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For  Reference 

Not  to  be  taken  from  ilus  room 


The  NEW  IPANA  tastes  better., 
cleans  teeth  and  breath  better. . 


reduces  decay  better 


"SPARKLE-FRESH"  FLAVOR! 


ibrushing  can  be  a  joy  instead  of  a  jqly^thanks  to  Ipana's  new,  more  refreshing  flavor.  New 
Tooth  Paste  was  voted  by  far  the  fla\^  favorite  by  hundreds  of  men.  women  and  children 
ried  It  HI  their  own  homes.  And  its  fres&i' clean  taste  lasts  and  lasts  in  your  mouth. 


PROOF  OF  HOW  WELL  NEW  IPANA  CLEANS  TEETH,  STOPS  MOUTH  ODOR 

IT' 


Teeth  52%  Cleaner.  Nfew  Ipana  has  been 
thorouehly  tested  and  Woved  effective  by 
scientists  at  a  leading  Ipntal  school.  One 
test  studied  results  o\  brushing  badly 
stained  teeth  with  new  ^pana  Tooth  Paste 
in  the  morning  and  after,  meals.  The  Md- 
ings:  teeth  52 ','0  cleaiicr.lL 


Mouth  Odor  Stopped  for  Hours.  Another 
^boratory  test  studied  breath  -th  a  saen^ 
t.fic  odor-measuring  osmometer.  Men  and 
^vomen  with  severe  cases  n^""^*;  °f  . 
brushed  their  teeth  with  new  Ipana.  Mouth 
odor  ^as  stopped-not  just  temporarily 
but  in  rtost  cases  for  hours. 


Famous  Ipana  Tooth  Paste  now  contains  two 
new  scientific  cleansing,  purifying  agents! 

New  improved  Ipana  gives  voii 
(ill  ihc  iriLTcdicnts  you  need  for 
clFcctivc  njoulh  hygiene  in  a 
wonderfully  Te(fcshinp.  non- 
staining  tooth  pa.stc. 

Ipana's  iwo  new  cleansing, 
purifying  agents  actually  clean 
better  than  any  single  tooth 
paste  ingredient  known.  Thev 

penetrate  where  even  water  cannot  reach  ...  to  help  keep 
>(nir  whole  nioiiih  cleaner,  sweeter,  healthier. 

You'll  notice  the  difference 

New  Ipana  gives  you  all  its  remarkable  benefits  in  a  tooth 
paste  that  has  a  sparkling  new.  more  refreshing  flavor 
that  hiirsis  ill^Ulntly  into  twice  as  much  loam. 

Xa^u'll  notice  the  diflerencc  the  very  first  time  you  use  the 
new  Ipana  Tooth  Paste.  Try  it  today. 

New  pieasanter  way  to  combat 
bdd  breath  anci  decay! 

You  can  stop  moi'fh  odor 
and  reduce  tooth  dccav  Djr, 
more  effectively  with  this  de- 
licious new  tooth  paste. 

Because,  thanks  to  its  ex- 
tra cleansing  power,  new 
Ipana  not  only  stops  mouth 
odor  instantly,  but  stops  it 
longer. 

And  new  Ipana  removes  more  of  the  mouth  acids  which 
are  a  principal  cause  of  dental  ca\  ities.  E\  ery  time  you  use  it 
you  get  better  protection  from  tooth  decay. 

Takes  care  of  your  gums,  too 

It's  a  fact  that  brushing  teeth  from  gum  margins  towards 
biting  edges  with  new  Ipana  helps  remo\e  irritants  that  can 
lead  to  gum  troubles.  So  for  teeth,  breath,  gums— use  the 
new  Ipana  Tooth  Paste.  Look  for  the  yellow -and-red  Ipana 
carton  wherever  fine  drug  products  are  sold. 


Guarani^  by " 
L  Cood  Housekeeping  i 

Product  of  Brmpl-Myers 


TOOTH       P   A    S  'T  E 


4  ' 


So  soft,  so  gentle  Jor  little  "sniJJI 


01  dinan 


Little  ladies  and  big  ones  too,  find  things  to  love  about  Scotties. 
So  gently  soft,  Scotties  won't  hurt  a  tot's  cold-sensitive  skin.  Yet 
they're  firm  enough  to  remove  Mother's  most  stubborn  make-up 
without  messy  crumbling. 

Even  the  men  like  Scotties'  practical  2-way  strength.  When 
Dad  lets  go  with  a  deafening  "a-choo" — Scotties  can  take  it 
without  wilting.  And  they  don't  crumble  in  a  boy's  pocket. 

Compare  Scotties  with  all  others  for  outstanding  value,  for  snoivy 
ivhiteness.  You  II  diseover  ivhy  so  many  families  are  fast  becoming 
"Scotties  families.^''  Another  "Great  ScotC  paper  value. 


I 


Ixll  II  Mill   Sl  IJ.IV  \M 

lias  a  ilo^  he  serves  us 
well  as  lid  ilie  slaves 
i<ijiipiirr  (l'age;{2). 

\\  (•  ins  OIK"  wile 
ami  iii\  lun  ilaiii^li- 
Icis  li\c  uilli  our 
Aii'^  in  Sonlli  Hriid. 
I  ml  ia  iia,  w  here  I 
s|peiiil  my  (lavs  in  llie 
l)e|iarliiieiil  of  I'luf.'- 
lisli  al  Noire  Dame  and  m\  iiif;lils  writ- 
ing what  I  IrnsI  will  he  in\  lillli  novel, 
seventh  book.  Day  and  nifjlil,  I  take 
long,  zigzagging  walks  to  straighten 


iar«l  Slilli\aii 


Ih 


j;hls.  Our  (loii  insists  on  il." 


iUldegartle  IhtlHon 


Ma>  IliivieslMiirlci 


of  her  (irsi 


No  Mnli\  !■  Il     i        J     1 1 

I  III/, hill  ilii   Miiiiiii  i  JJ! 

4  oii«l«*iiM<-«l  llooli-l.t'iiifili  Font  nil- 

'   /  ,  ^   /.',,„/,„,  v: 

Taw  .li..„..M,„  (hirsi  ,mrl  »(  (Iv,-)                     \l„,  /,,„„,  \l,„„.,„.i  J/. 

'       '"''ff'"-'          '  il^                                               I  l<..,l..  iU  lh,„„  ((I 

l<„l„n.l  ^ulln.n, 

I  lie  KiHK  of  Noni  W  .1-,.,,                                                   M.  l  II..,,,,,.,  ,  , 

<  r,  ,l,„  ll.,rll,..l,.m,  „  (.(I 

Siieli  I |ca\  \  ( ;if|M  II 

"Kcporl  on  ill.-  \iiirrieaii  (   l-i  '               lh„,,ili\   I  linin/.^.n,  II 

'IVII  Me  Doelor  (I'arl  li\.  )  II, n,^  II.  ^.iHm.l.  M  l)  l'» 
One  Man.  One  Hoj.  .  .  Hmili.  i  -  I.n  (  Im,|.  <• 

Hig  Sisters  Nee<l<  <i  '!  ....                                           \iii,n,n,i  ll„l.,  y  l.S 

(Ian  'riiis  Mariia;;e  he  SaNeil/  (I'ir-I  ol  a  Herii-s)  |(l 

'*•>'  <•'"  Oeiaiiiiinis                                       I'niiitinii  In  ll,  i,,i  Mnli^w  \1 

Lil'esaviiig  Drti^isCan  Harm  ^  ..n                     II  illiniii  I..  l.iiiiniKf  l.t 

{''almloiis  l'"ann\  (Tliinl  jiarl  nf         I       ....       Snininn  Kall.ni  \',: 

"Tlie  People  \\  lio  ( iiHiiir"                          ....  |ll| 

l*olili<al  I'llfiiims  l'rof;re,>:  'I  I  Wok.-  I  s  I  |i"  |o: 

Mow  ^  Oiiiig  Aineriea  l,i\es                                     1 1  ililitiiinir  I  ).,ls,„i  I.JI 

Ip4'iii'r:il  F«>;iiiir<'N 

Our  Headers  \\  rile  Us    | 

Makin;;  M  arriajxe  \\  oi-k                                      .(llifjftH'tl  li.    iiltims  I  I 

W  hen  ^  on  Sa>       es"  (  I  Ik-  Snh-Del.)  .    .    .     I.ililril  lis  Hiilli  I iiilii  \t< 

liilder-(.<iver  Slnff    .   Hcrminliii)'  Kirllv  211 

I'iriy  ^  ears  Ago  •  Jonriial  \lioul   Town   2') 

'I'lK-re's  a  Man  in  llie  House  Iliiiliiii  Millrr  .">  I 

Tiiis  is  a  l)ark-l)o|(e\  Miiiiii)  l.riif 

\sk  Any  \\  onian  Miircrlriii-  Cox  I  I  I 

Normal  !,i\es  I'orOnr  Dialielie  ( !liililren  l>r.  Ilriiiiiiii  \.  liiiiiili-svn  121 

I  )iary  ol  I  )omeslieil  y                                                       (,liiil\s  'I'iiImt  I.")(I 

FsiNliitiii  i\nt\  ■{("iiuly 

Tlie  Diel   Tlial  Lannelied  a  New  Life            Dmiii  (jiiirrll  \oriniiii  \(> 

Two-Way  Dress                                                                 \iir)i  ()' l.fiirv  .">ll 

Look  Ahead  to  .*^ninnier                                          II  illn  hi  (  iishiiniii  .>2 

.lersevs.  North  or  .Soiilli   If  illii-lii  (jisliiniiii 

Journal  Beaulv  Vpron                                    Dmrii  Crimfll  \oriniiii  71 

Hiis  is  the  W  a\  We  Like  lo  Dress                               \iirii  O'l.rtiry  I.U> 

This  is  the  W  av  We  Like  lo  Look                 Dunn  ('.loirrll  \oriniiti  l.'5T 

Fo4»«l  ll<»iii«>iiiiikin;! 

Lively  and  Livable  (iliiilv.s  'I'iiImt  58 

Come  on  Over  inn  Itiitchrliirr  62 

Line  a  Day  inn  liiilrlirliliT  61 

W  hat's  for  Dinner?  Miiriiin  'rraiy  I0>{ 

Best-Kver  Pie  KiH'line  Siiriiiiv  llithni-s  I  17 

Simple,  Hearty  and  \llra<-live                                         (.iiiii  Sliurt  112 

Conversalion  I'ieee  Riilli  Mills  'I'caiiiii'  I  18 

Arrlii(<'<-iiii*4'  anal  liil«'ri»r  lk*><M>rJilioii 

I'rovidenee  Riclmnl  I'riitt  31 

Little  House  AVilh  Larj.'e  I. leas  liichiinl  I'ratl  80 

How  to  Handle  Yonr  Holiday  Plants  Riclmnl  I'rutt  88 

"Our  Garage  Became  ( )iir  Living  Hooni"    .    .    .    ('yntliiii  .Mr.tiloo  138 

Young  Home-Builders                                              \iincy  Cranforil  110 

Quilted  and  Personal   II' 

Small  House  W  ith  One  (ilamorons  K<H>m  Riihiinl  Pratt  I.')6 

I*0«'III5« 

May  Sarton  66  •  Elizabeth  IMeFarlantl  73  •  Randall  .larrell  <)0  •  W  illiain 
Stafford  100  •  Mary  Jeremy  126  •  Joan  Story  W  right  1  l  i  •   BlaiK  he 
DeGraff  151  •  Maxwell  Anderson  160 

rov«>r  I'holotCriipli  kv  \Villi«'la  4'ii!>ihiiiaii 


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I  am  ama/ed. 
i-oiiresses  llll.DK- 
(.  MiliK  Doi.soN  (//«>ir 
>  ou  II  !>      t  III  cririi 

l.irvs.    Page  l.'.l). 

llial  so  niain  Joi  u- 
\  \l.  u  l  iters  are  able 
lo  lialaiirc  boss  and 
dogs  on  tiie  carriages 
of  their  ty])ewrilers. 
I  sleep  till  noon,  wrile 
the  first  dozen  dralts  in  pencil,  then 
type  beside  an  open  window  al  mid- 
night so  my  Greenwich  Village  neigh- 
bors can  hear  how  hard  I  work.  For 
lun,  I  also  paint.  To  classily  my  art 
work,  friends  grope  for  a  word  lower 
than  Primitive,  such  as  Ugh." 

Our  cfiscovery  of 
the  month  is  May 
Davies  Martenet, 
who  writes  "only 
w  hen  I  can  find  the 
time  and  place  in  a 
small  New  \  ork  apart- 
ment." Four  years 
elapsed,  to  the  day, 
,  between  the  first  word 
and  the  final  period 
novel.  Taw  Jameson 
(beginning  Page  26).  There  was  much 
time  out.  of  course,  for  husband  Ed- 
win, teen-age  daughter  Emily,  a  dog,  a 
cat— and  illness.  Right  now  she  hopes 
some  strong  character  will  barge  into 
her  mind  and  lake  over  either  of  two 
new  noveU  she  lias  simmering  there. 


Send  old  address  with  the  new,  enclosing  if  possible 

Ladies'  Home  Journal,  copyright  1<I52  by  The  Curtis  Publishing  Company  in  U.  S. 
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ThO  Curtis  PuMlshlng  Company.  Walter  D.  !•  uUer,  Cliairman  of  the  Board: 
Robert  E  MacNcal,  President:' Arthur  W,  Kohler,  Vice-President  and  .\dvertiEina  Di- 
rector- Mary  Curtis  ZimbaUst.  Vici^Preiident;  Cary  \\  .  Bok,  V  ice-Prcsident:  Lewis  U  . 
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Manager  of  Ladies'  Home  Journal.  The  Company  aL=o  publishes  TheStturday  Evening 
1' .St.  Country  Gentleman,  Jack  and  Jill,  and  Holiday. 


v\li(Mi  liiiir  l()s(»s  th(il 

Vital  look' 


brings  out  natural 

"life"  and  sparkle  .  .  . 

conditions  even 

problem  hair! 

The  one  and  only  shampoo 
made  with  homogenized  fresh, 
whole  egg  which  contains 
precious  CHOLESTEROL. 
ALBUMEN  and  LECITHIN. 

See  for  yourself  how  this 
conditioning  shampoo  enhances 
the  natural  "vital  look"  of  your 
hair— gives  it  maximum  gloss 
and  super-sparkle. 

You'll  find  your  hair  wonder- 
fully manageable— with  the 
caressable,  silky  texture  that  is 
every  woman's  dream.  Try 
Helene  Curtis  Shampoo  Plus  Egg 
today.  You'll  be  delighted 
that  you  did. 


Available  at 

All  Cosmetic  Counferi 

and  Beauty  Salons 


59<  and  $1 


shampoo 


4i 


The  Foremost  Nome 
In  Hair  Beauty 


L   A    n    T    E    S  ' 


II    O    i\l  K 


J    O    U    R    N    A  L 


Jantinrv,  /'A")'? 


DUNDEE  MILLS,  INC.,  Griffin.  Ga.  •  Showrooms:  40  Worth  St.,  New  York  City 

0»her  Dundee  fobricj:  DIAPERS  •   flANNElETTES  •  DUNfAST  ALL-PUHPOSC  COTTONS  ® 


OurJ?edders 


^•'w  Year's  TiiunI 

Chicago,  Illinois 
To  the  Editors :  I  have  just  hurrieclly 
filk'il  out  my  resuliscription  blank  to 
your  magazine.  I  had  been  toying  with 
tho  idea  of  not  sub.'^cribin-g  again — not 
Ix'cause  I  do  not  like  it.  (An  contraire !  j 
But  I  felt  I  could  always  get  it  at  the 
newsstand.  Then  a  horrible  thought 
came  over  me.  What  if  I  had  missed 
reading  the  wonderful  piece  about  Edna 
St.  Vincent  Millay?  It  alone  is  worth 
the  whole  price  of  a  year's — two  years'  — 
subscription. 

Very  worth-while  publications  have 
folded  up  for  lack  of  supporters.  I 
askeil  myself,  "What  if  my  Joi  rnai, 
should  fold  for  such  a  reason?"  I  knew 
what  I  had  to  do:  resubscribe. 

I  know  my  one  subscription  cannot 
make  or  break  you,  but  the  thousands 
who  feel  as  I  do  are  the  secret  of  your 
success.  And  you,  dear  Editors,  cater 
to  our  needs  and  so  are  blessed.  Vive 
les — Editors!  Sincerely, 

HELEN  KID'WELL 

►  Thank  YOU,  Mrs.  Kidn  vlL  for  one 
of  the  nicest  votes  »f  eonjidenee  a  ^nnip 
of  editors  ever  n-eeired.  Is  soon  as  ire 
reluctantly  announced  the  "cost  of 
puhlishinfl"  price  rise  ice  have  tried  to 
stave  off',  effective  this  month,  friends 
like  you  he>iaii  to  icrile  us  from  all 
over  the  country,  and  even  from  lands 
abroad,  saying  they  icoiilil  iiive  up 
movies  or  beefsteak  in  tliese  times,  but 
not  the  .loi'R \  U  e  shall  have  a  spe- 
cial toast  this  \eic  dear's  live.  W  hen 
the  cloi  k  strikes  twelve,  ice  icill  say, 
"l  ive  les — .loiKVM,  readers!"  With 
their  help,  ice  still  have  far  to  f>o. 

Hri CE  (ioL  I.I) 

BEATRirE  Bl.ACKMAR  (ioUI.D 

l>nlri»<iNni  IKiwii  lo  Kiirlli 

Los  Angeles,  California 
Dear  Editor:  Because  a  little  Polish 
emigrant  dared  to  si)eak  up  for  Amer- 
ica in  his  broken  English  at  a  commu- 
nist gathering  in  a  downtown  L.  A.  city 
park,  an  American  housewife  dccidi  il 
to  make  a  map  of  "The  Land  of  the 
Free." 

The  little  Polish  emigrant's  words 
were:  "If  you  Americans  knew  what  I 
know  about  the  communist  concentra- 
tion camps  in  Poland,  wlu  re  m\-  mother, 
father,  sisters  and  bnitlu  rs  were  mur- 
dered, you  would  get  down  on  your 
hands  and  knees  and  kiss  the  ground 
that  you  walk  on  in  this  land  of  the 
free." 

He  broke  up  that  communist  meet- 
ing—and his  words  are  being  echoed  to 


Mrs.  Cro«c''s  map. 

millions  of  other  Americans  all  un- 
known to  him.  It  was  this  incident  that 
caused  this  map  to  be  made  and  widely 
celebrated  and  displayed. 

Forty-four  go\  ernors  out  of  the  forty- 
eight  sent  sacred  historic  soils.  Your 
mayor  of  Philadelphia  sent  earth  from 


Independence  Square.  Newspapers,  li- 
brarians, senators  all  lielped  to  mak'- 
this  map  possible  by  lending  a  hand  to 
one  American  housewife  who  wanted 
to  pass  on  the  words  of  the  little  Polish 
emigrant  to  complacent  fellow  Amer- 
icans who  seem  not  to  know  the  score. 

It  took  seven  months  to  make. 
Many  a  night  to  1  and  2  a.m.  —  for  God 
and  Country — and  our  posterity. 

Sincerely, 
MRS.  JOHN  C.  CROWK 

Ht'lp  llii.sl«'n  P«»9i4t  l*r«'v<-iiili<iii 

New  York  City 
Dear  Editors:  We  really  thought  we 
could  feel  safe  about  polio  this  year. 
We  had  raised  a  lot  of  money  in  tln' 
March  of  Uinn's  last  j'car  and  believd 
it  woukl  take  care  of  all  emergencies. 
We  were  wrong. 

As  you  undouljtedly  have  seen  in 
your  newspapers,  there  will  be  even 
more  cases  in  l'J.S2  than  there  were  in 
194'),  record-breaking  polio  year,  and 
our  treasury  is  again  depleted. 

This  is  both  tragic  and  ironic  be- 
cause it  looks  as  if  scientists  at  last  are 
bi'ginning  to  get  somewhere  in  research 
ar.d  it  might  not  be  long  before  there  is 
a  jirexentive  for  polio. 

Xaturalh'.  t!i<-  American  people  are 
(li'terriiini-d  to  do  tlieir  utmost  to  make 
the  next  few  \■ear■^  the  last  polio- 
epidi'inie  years  there  will  ever  be. 

Our  campaign  will  open  January  2 
and  run  through  JaniuuN'  M.  Will  you 
pleas<-  help  focus  public  attention  on 
the  continued  need  for  support  of  the 
March  of  Dimes? 

Cordially  yours, 
DOROTHY  DUCAS 
National  Foundation 
for  Infantile  Paralysis 

\rmy  l*hil<>.<«o|ih<'r 

APO  164 
U.  S.  Army 

Dear  Bruce:  As  I've  said  before 
again  —  I  don't  like  the  militar.\  life, 
and  wouldn't  choose  it,  but  tle're  is 
much  to  learn. 

If  I  had  .some  eighteen-year-old 
priv  ate  on  my  knee,  and  were  obliged 
to  give  him  whatever  low-down  I  have 
(and  now,  as  an  officer,  I  am  so  obliged 
now  and  then),  I  think  I'd  say  first 
that  most  Americans  do  not  under- 
stand the  uses  of  simplicity,  and  that 
the  Army  is  the  i)lace  to  discover  these 
things.  By  "simplicity"  I  mean  the 
little-known  truth  that  all  you  really 
need  is  something  to  eat,  one  change  of 
warm  clothing,  and  a  place  to  lie  down 
at  night. 

The  Army  is  the  place  to  discover 
what  a  i)owerful  thing  one  man  can  be. 
One  man  can  dig  a  surprisingh-  large 
hole  in  the  ground  with  one  shovel,  in 
eight  hours.  He  can  transport  a  star- 
tling number  of  ammunition  boxes 
from  one  place  to  another,  in  the  .same 
amount  of  time,  with  his  bare  hands. 
(  'i\  ilian  Americans  wouldn't  dream  of 
digging  holes  or  transporting  an.\-thing 
with  tlu'ir  hands,  an<l  consequently 
have  forgotten  that  they  could  do  these 
things  if  they  had  to. 

In  the  less  obvious  sense,  I  mean 
"powerful"  in  the  way  of  will  power. 
It  was  \-on  Clausewitz  who  said  that 
the  momentum  of  every  battle  is  finally 
depi'iident  upon  the  personal,  indi\-id- 
ual  wills  of  the  opposing  commanders. 
I  didn't  understand  this  at  first.  It's 
been  revealing  itself  to  me  little  by 
little.  Nobody  in  any  military  machine 
wants  to  do  the  things  he  has  to — 
particularly  to  risk  his  life,  but  also 
to  w-ash  the  barracks  windows,  cook 
a  meal,  build  a  telephone  line,  or 
(Continued  on  Page  6) 


•l 
§ 

« 
% 
% 


H     II     \|     I  I     II     I      |(      \     ^  I. 


ali-li! 


YeS/  Ivory  lather  is  richer. . .  faster! 

You  take  it  easy  vvlien  you  take  an  Ivory  bath ! 
That  sturdy  cake  of  Ivory  floats  right  up  to 
meet  you  .  .  .  greets  your  lightest  touch  with  a 
burst  of  creamy  lather.  For  ivory  makes  more 
lather,  fasicr,  than  any  other  leading  bath  soap ! 

And  Ivory  lather  is  mild  as  mild . . . 
and  so  clean-smelling! 

Silky  Ivory  lather  is  such  a  delight,  so  right 
for  your  skin.  Why,  Ivory  Soap  is  mildness 
itself — more  doctors  advise  it  for  skin  care 
than  any  other  soap.  And.  nini/n!  .  .  .  the 
clean,  refreshing  frcr^'iaiicc  of  those  Ivory  suds 
leaves  you  perky  as  a  two-year  old! 

Yet  your  pleasure-filled  Ivory 
bath  costs  less! 

Most  folks  would  gladly  pay  more  for  the 
extra  pleasure  of  an  Ivory  bath.  But,  actLially, 
you  pay  less!  For  pure,  mild,  floating  Ivory 
gives  you  more  soap  for  your  money  than 
any  other  lea'ding  bath  soap. 


lis  n  |>I(VISIII'4»... 


lHIH^]>I<»ilSNI'<>! 


I 


99.^^  puTO  it  Floats 


'The  whole  family  agrees  on  Ivory 


6  r,  \  I)  r   K  s  •     II   o  \i   k     .i  o  i    k   \   \  i 


Janitarv,  /95.'i 


Mother  of  ten  has  won  nearly  150  prizes  in  cooking  contests 

Lt.  Governor  Presents  Cooking  Awards 
to  California  Homemaker 


California's    Lieutenant  Governor 

Goodwin  J.  Knight  presents  a  blue 
ribbon  to  Mrs.  P.  J.  Hodge  of  Hemet, 
Cal.  Mrs.  Hodge  was  one  of  the  top 
winners  in  the  cooking  competition 
at  this  year's  Farmer's  Fair  in  River- 
side County — slie  took  ribbons  on 
nine  of  her  ten  contest  entries! 

The  mother  of  ten  children,  Mrs. 
Hodge  has  had  plenty  of  cooking 
practice  .  .  .  and  like  so  many  prize- 
winning  cooks  she  uses  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast.  "It's  a  grand 


help,"  she  says.  "Always  rises  fast — 
and  stays  fresh  for  months  so  I  can 
keep  a  supply  on  hand." 

Out  of  5000  prize-winning  cooks 
surveyed,  97%  prefer  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast.  It's  so  much  more 
convenient  than  old-style  perishable 
cake  yeast — stays  fresh  for  months 
on  your  pantry  shelf.  Now  when  you 
bake  at  home,  it's  easy  to  use  yeast. 
But  use  the  best — look  for  the  label 
and  be  sure  you  get  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast. 


asier  Living 


"^j^^^)  'P'^^fr^  7H<lCeCi.  for  Neater,  Ea; 

ffouu  To  Hdi/e  Brighter, 

C/eaner  Cupboards! 


Your  Guarantee  of  Quolily 


SHELF  PAPER 


Wide  color  choice  ph/s  hard  "dust- 
shedding"  surfaces  are  the  reasons  why  most 
women  buy  KVP.  You'll  like  those  features, 
too.  Look  at  "Glazed"  for  pastel  shades  — 
"Enameled"  for  brighter  colors  —  and  "Kala- 
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ve  Time  —  Save  Work 

Shelf  Papers  •  Freezer  Papers  •  Heavy  and  Fancy 
Woxcd  •  KVP  and  Mrs.  Hayward's  Dusting  Papers 
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Parctiment    .     Pressing  Parchment     •  Kalacloths. 

lozoo  Vegetable  Parchment  Co.,  Parchment,  Michigon 


{Continued  from  Page  4) 
perform  maintenance  on  the  trucks, 
Tlie  comiiianclinij  ofificer  wills  that  these 
thinijs-be  done,  and  the  whole  cntcrpri.se 
drpenils  on  how  tenaciously.  On  his  per- 
sonal will  drags  the  intense  reluctance  of 
400,000  to  1,000,000  inflividual  soldiers. 
If  he  were  to  say  or  indicatt',  "  To  hell  with 
it,"  a  million  men  would  sa>-,  "  That's  just 
the  way  we  feel  about  it,"  throw  down 
their  rifies.  and  fjo  home. 

Finally.  I'd  tell  this  pri\ate  what  my 
commander  told  us.  his  iiri\  ates.  He  was 
the  model  of  a  .soldier  and  an  officer. 

He  said,  "Men,  I  went  tlirouf;li  the  war 
witli  the  Artillery.  Vou  are  all  new  in  the 
-\iin\-,  hut  you  ou).;lit  to  know  this:  that 
the  .\rm>-  is  not  a  philanthropic  institu- 
tion. Vou  weren't  drafted  to  he  given  a 
college  education  or  a  million  dollars.  You 
ma\-  .i;rt  a  college  ediu'ation  out  of  it,  but 
we  can  all  go  home  well  satisfied,  if  we  go 
home  in  one  piece." 

P.ecause  the  job  of  a  soldier  is  to  fight, 
\\  hen  all  is  said  and  done.  Yours, 

WARREN 


C'lifs  ^lanima 

Tampa,  Florida 
Dear  Editors:  Ours  isn't  just  any  old 
orflinary  cat.  No  sir  !  Our  cat  was  raised  on 
dog's  milk.  Note  enclosed  picture.  That 
old  dog  used  to  go  roaming  around  until 
she  could  discover  some  baljy  kittens,  steal 


Old  d. 


III.  k 


them  from  wherever  she  found  them  and 
thereliy  ac(niin-  her.self  a  family. 

Voti  just  don't  know  what  will  come  in 
in  the  mail  now  days.  Do  you? 

Thanks  again, 
W.  BURTON  TALBOTT 


Rudgjcick,  England 

Dear  Beatrice  and  Bruce:  How  much 
better  an  idea  of  England  people  visiting 
here  next  summer  would  get  if,  instead  of 
making  the  usual  tours  to  the  most  ob\  i- 
ous  places — Shakespeare's  birthplace,  and 
the  museums  which,  however  interesting, 
must  always  have  rather  the  air  of  taste- 
fidly  embalmed  corpses — they  would  plan 
a  tour  of  the  large,  and  not-so-large,  coun- 
try houses.  These,  now  in  the  hands  of  the 
National  Trust,  are  open  to  the  public  for 
two  and  six — 35  cents  to  you. 

"  I  never  met  so  many  interesting  people 
I>cfore,  as  I  do  now  the  house  is  open  to  the 
public."  the  owner  of  one  of  the  Midland 
show  iilaces  recently  remarked  to  me. 

In  man\-  of  these  places,  the  original 
fauiily  still  lives,  albeit  in  reduced  circum- 
stances and  in  one  of  the  smaller  wings. 
(Often  the  wing  that  in  other  dayr;  accom- 
modated the  servants.)  The  descendant  of 
a  hundred  earls  is  often  delighted  to  show 
the  visitors  round  in  person,  and  maybe 
sell  them  a  pamphlet,  written  by  himself, 
on  the  history  of  the  place.  Some  even  offer 
for  sale  a  basket  of  vegetables,  grown  on 
the  premises. 

The  windows  are  open.  The  flowers  are 
arranged  as  they  would  be  if  the  Queen 
were  expected  to  lunch.  And  over  them  all 
hangs  that  atmosphere  that  comes  only  to 
a  place  lived  in  and  loved  by  the  .same  fam- 
ily, through  countless  generations. 

Few  people  realize  how  easily  reached 
from  London  many  of  these  show  places 
are.  Hatfield  House,  one  of  the  most  fa- 
mous, is  a  short  train  ride  or  an  hour's 
drive  from  Lonrlon.  Here  live  the  -Sali.s- 
I)ury  family  who  have  provided  England 
with  so  inan>-  great  statesmen.  The  collec- 
tion of  portraits  and  tapestries  is  tmiciue. 
In  the  beautiful  gardens  are  oak  trees  hun- 
rlrerls  of  years  old. 

Knebworth.  in  the  same  county,  Hert- 
fordshire, is  an  easy  drive  from  Hatfield, 
(Continued  on  Page  8) 


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any 

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it's  fine  upholstery 

Masland  Duran  . . .  durable  and  easy 
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Lovely  colors  and  patterns  on 
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New  Colgate  Chlorophyll  Tooth  Powder  re- 
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.  .  .  you  actually  see  it  turn  from  white  to 
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V  Destroys  Bad  Breath  originating  in  the 
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Keeps  your  mouth  fresh  and  sweet  longer! 

✓  Fights  Tooth  Decay.  Attacks  harmful  acids 
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Maybelline  Mascara,  Eyebrow 
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EYE  SHADOW 


EYEBROW  PENCIL 


(Continued  from  Page  6) 
and  could  be  visited  the  same  day.  Bulwer- 
Lytton,  tlie  Victorian  novelist,  once  lived 
here.  The  rather  ornate,  Tudor  style  of  the 
house  is  said  to  have  influenced  the  build- 
ings of  the  Houses  of  Parliament. 

Still  within  easy  reach  of  town,  less  than 
twenty-five  miles  from  Marble  Arch,  Lon- 
don. Cliveden,  as  you  know,  home  of  the 
Astor  family,  stands  high  on  its  hillside, 
looking  down  to  the  distant  silver  of  the 
Thames,  over  toward  Windsor,  home  of 
the  present  English  kings.  Here,  one  sunny 
morning,  I  saw  Lady  Nancy  Astor  busy 
with  a  feather  brush,  furbishing  up  a  mar- 
ble cupid  that  had  a  neglected  look,  and 
poking  newspapers  out  of  sight  under 
sitting-room  cushions  before  the  house 
opened  and  the  public  came  in.  Precisely 
as  any  hostess  makes  hasty  last-minute 
preparations  to  receive  guests. 

Surrey  and  Sussex,  south  of  London, 
known  as  the  Garden  of  England,  have 
innumerable  beautiful  places,  just  as  ac- 
cessible. Here  the  country  has  so  neat  and 
well-groomed  an  air  that  it  is  difficult, 
often,  to  tell  where  the  big  estates  end  and 
the  ordinary  countryside  begins.  Old  mar- 
ket towns,  still  with  cobbled  streets,  arc 
by-passed  now  b>-  turnpike  roads. 

Through  Guildford,  twenty-five  miles, 
from  London,  and  on  the  Dorking  Road, 
lies  Albury  Park,  hoii.c  of  the  Duchess  of 
Northumberland.  Of  beautiful  rosy  brick, 
with  the  odd  carved  and  twisted  chimneys 
peculiar  to  this  part  of  the  country,  it 
stands  in  gardens  that  were  laid  out  in 
1667.  The  historic  pictures  and  tapestries 
from  Northumberland  House,  London, 
were  brought  down  here  when  Northum- 
berland House  was  closed.  And  here  they 
still  are,  for  anyone  to  look  at,  at  leisure, 
in  beautiful  and  peaceful  surroundings, 
for  two  and  six. 

Nine  miles  on,  on  a  hillside  near  Leath- 
erhead,  stands  Polsden  Lacey.  There  is 
nothing  imposing  or  magnificent  about  the 
low-built  country  house  where  Richard 
Brinslcy  .Sheridan  once  lived.  It  is  just  a 
perfect  example  of  an  English  Edwardian 
home.  But  for  English  folk  it  has  another 
and  more  special  interest.  Here,  years  ago, 
a  handsome  shy  young  Prince  brought  the 
little  Scots  girl  he  married,  on  her  honey- 
moon. It  was  a  love  match.  People  there 
still  remember  the  two  of  them  walking 
about  the  gardens,  hand  in  hand,  untrou- 
bled by  fame.  For  they  did  not  know  they 
would  one  day  be  King  and  Queen  of 
England. 

From  Potsdcn  Lacey,  south,  still  within 
easy  reach  of  London,  lies  Arundel  Castle. 
The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  whose  home  it  is,  is 
a  busy  and  harried  man  with  anxious 
months  ahead  of  him.  He  is  the  Queen's 
Master  of  Ceremonies,  and  has  the  han- 
dhng  of  arrangements  for  the  June  coro- 
nation. But,  like  other  tired  businessmen, 
he  comes  back  week  ends.  The  castle 
stands  high  and  turreted,  as  large  as  a 
small  village,  over  the  town  of  Arundel. 
North,  it  commands  the  downs,  and  to  the 
south,  the  sea.  Keep,  drawbridge  and  bar- 
bican are  intact,  and  soUd,  just  as  of  old. 
In  the  rounfl  shell  keep  there  is  the  living 
room  of  a  Norman  baron,  exactly  as  it  was 
in  the  days  when  a  Norman  baron  lived 
there.  Many  an  enemy  ship  has  crept  up 
the  channel,  many  a  Heinkel  has  hurtled 
overhead,  but  the  old  castle  stands  just  as 
it  has  stood  since  the  Norman  conquest, 
intact,  amidst  parklands  and  woods 
amongst  the  most  beautiful  in  England. 
Roe  deer  live  in  the  forest.  The  Duke's 
three  little  girls  likely  clatter  by  on  their 
ponies,  for  they  are  familiar  figures  at 
horse  and  pony  shows  in  the  neighborhood. 

Not  all  the  houses  well  worth  visiting 
are  either  large  or  splendid.  Bateman's, 
Burwash,  is  no  larger  than  the  average 
American  country  home.  But  for  twenty 
years  Rudyard  Kipling,  one-time  Journal 
author,  lived  here.  Here  he  wrote  Puck  of 
Pook's  Hill,  and  Rewards  and  Fairies. 
(With  the  accent  on  the  first  syllable. 
Reward  means  witch — not  a  good-conduct 
prize.)  Looking  out  over  a  pleasant  Eng- 
lish garden,  the  study  remains  exactly  as 
he  left  it. 

These  are  places  that  can  be  visited  from 
headquarters  in  London,  a  pleasant  day's 
trip,  and  home  in  the  evening  for  dinner, 
or  stopping  at  the  Crown  Inn,  Chidding- 
fold,  one  of  England's  oldest  and  pleasant- 
est  hostelries,  on  the  way  back. 

For  those  willing  to  go  farther  afield,  the 
Midlands  have  small,  enchanting  but  less 
well-known  places,  as  well  as  the  famous 
(Continued  on  Page  155) 


ITSAFAMILY  TRADITION 


...the  bedtime  lullaby! 


...the  dependability  of 
Johnsons  Baby  ProduoS 


COTTON  TIPS 


STERILE 


Whenyou  buy  cotton  tip^., 
iuy  the  dependable 

JOHNSON^  brand! 


orse 


enio 


deled 


home ! 


rhore  isn't  a  more  generous 
jshand  on  earth  than 
[ichael  O'Shea,"  \'hginia 
[avo  explains.  "But  he  gave 
lore  than  he  realized  when 
3  presented  me  with  my  first 
arse.  Now  we  practically 
lake  our  home  in  the  stables! 


"It's  fun  -  but  hard  work,  too.  Feeding  and  grooming  our  horses  —  cleaning  saddles  and  bridles  and  polishing  brass  — 
is  harder  on  my  hands  than  a  complete  housecleaning.  But  pure,  white  Jcrgens  Lotion  softens  them  again  so  beautifully. 


frankly  proud  of  the  stables  — and  keeping 
painted  up  spic  and  span  is  all  part  of  my 
That's  another  reason  I'm  so  grateful  for 
■ns  Lotion  —  it  soothes  my  hands  so  com- 
ly  and  so  fast.  Trv  this  and  see  tvhij:  Smooth 
hand  with  quickly  absorbed  Jergens  .  .  . 


"Apply  any  ordinary  lotion  or  cream  to  the 
other.  Then  wet  them.  Water  won't  'bead' 
on  the  hand  you've  smoothed  with  won- 
derful Jergens  Lotion  as  it  will  with  oily 
lotions  or  creams  that  just  coat  the  skin. 


"When  evening  comes  my  hands  are 
smooth  .  .  .  ready  for  close-ups  with  my 
fa\orite  leading  man,  Mike."  No  wonder 
Jergens  is  preferred  by  screen  stars  7  to  1. 
So  quick  and  easy— a  must  for  busy  people. 


Keep  your  hands  lovely,  too.  You'll  find 
Jergens  Lotion  e^ecf  if  c— because  it  doesn't 
just  coat  the  skin.  Jergens  really  penetrates 
the  upp>er  la\er  and  gi%es  it  softening 
moisture.  lO^*  to  Si,  plus  tax. 


Remember  JERGENS  LOTION... because  you  care  for  your  hands! 


Meelihg  last -loo  long? 

No  need  to  worry,  ma'am,  with  Minute  Rice  on  the  agenda!  You 
can  have  supper  on  the  table  in  a  flash — with  quick,  quicic  Minute 
Rice!  It's  luxury-quality,  long-grained  rice  pre-cooked  to  save  you 
time  and  trouble. 

Just  bring  to  a  boil,  turn  off  the  heat.  In  13  minutes  you  have  perfect 
rice — plump,  snowy,  and  full  of  flavor.  So  fool-proof  every  time,  so 
good  in  so  many  dishes,  you'll  move  to  serve  Minute  Rice  often! 
Everyone  votes  "aye"  for  Minute  Rice! 


« 


TURKEY  SUPPER  SUPERB 

S-t-r-e-t-c-h  those  holiday  leftovers  into  an  exciting  one-dish 
supper.  Prepare  I'/s  cups  Minute  Rice  as  directed  on  package, 
adding  Vs  teaspoon  savory.  Cook  1  package  Birds  Eye  Broccoli 
Spears  or  Cuts  as  directed;  add  2  tablespoons  butter.  Mix  2  cans 
condensed  cream  of  chicken  soup,  Vi  cup  milk,  2  diced  pimentos, 
a  little  chopped  parsley,  and  IVi  cups  diced  leftover  turkey, 
chicken,  or  other  fowl.  Mix  well,  season,  simmer  3  minutes  to 
heat  and  blend  flavors.  Arrange  on  platter,  and  serve  4  or  5. 
Golly,  how  good!  Remember — only  Minute  Rice  can  absorb  the 
savory  flavor,  make  such  a  scrumptious  one-dish  wonder  so  fast! 

Another  Quick  Delight — Almond  Rice!  Out  of  this  world  with 
roast  or  cold  sliced  chicken  or  turkey.  Prepare  I'  j  cups  Minute 
Rice  as  directed  on  package.  Saute  cup  slivered  blanched 
almonds  in  2  tablespoons  butter  until  golden  brown;  add  to 
rice  before  serving. 


MlNUT£ 


3  i  JS-*  ^- 1^*^^ 


Tor  perfed-  r\CB 
fhe  quidc  and  ea$/  way 


Minute 


A  Product  of  General  Foods 


JOIiP.V\L 


I  I 


"   iind  I  lir(Hif;lil  you  soiiii-lliiiif^,"  llic  Noiiiif^ 

sailor  said.  He  carefully  extracted  IVoin  beiiealli 
liis  l)louse  a  tliiii,  perforated  box  and  handed  it  to 
\  irf^inia  Habcock,  his  former  high-school  teacher 
ol  l)i(ilogy  at  Hroiixviiie.  New  York. 

When  she  opened  il,  a  small  tropical  snake 
uiitj^led  out.  She  did  not  dro])  it  or  scream,  as 
uonu'ii  who  receive  a  snake  arc  supposed  to  do. 
Instead,  she  thanked  iiini  for  his  rare  gift  witli 
real  deligiit.  In  spite  ol  regulations  and  personal 
hazards,  her  young  iriend  had  kept  tiiat  snake 
alive  on  shipboard  all  the  way  from  the  South 
Pacific. 

For  twenty  years,  Virginia  Bal)cock  has  been 
bringing  to  successive  generations  of  students 
the  excitement  of  finding  out  for  themselves 
about  the  nalmal  world.  She  leaches  life — with 
life.  She  shows  her  boys  and  girls  liow  to  keep 
alive  in  tiie  laboralorv  newts,  sala'manders,  frogs 
and  polliwogs.  as  well  as  white  mice,  rabbits  and 
kittens.  And  she  takes  on  all  the  extra  duties  of  a 
high-school  teacher — adviser,  counselor,  hobbv 
guide  (her  hobby  is  photography)  and  personal 
friend  of  young  people. 

In  October,  Virginia  Babcock  and  twenty- 
eight  other  career  women,  ranging  in  age 
from  12  to  79,  were  given  citations  by  Mount 
Holyoke  College  for  their  service  to  society  in 
manv  fields.  Among  them  were  Mrs.  Minnie 
Dwight,  editor  and  publisher  of  the  Holyoke 
Transcript-Telegram;  Comdr.  Louise  K.  Wilde, 
assistant  director  of 'the.  SJjipping  Control  di- 
vision of  the  Western  Sea  Frontier;  Dr.  Dorothy 
H.  .\ndersen,  associate  professor  of  pathology  at 
Columbia  University;  Miss  Esther  Hibbard,  pro- 
fessor of  English  at  Doshisha  University,  Kyoto, 
Japan;  and  Miss  Harriette  Vera,  director  of  re- 
search at  the  Baltimore  Biological  Laboratory. 

None  of  these  women  is  a  headliner,  but 
within  their  own  communities  they  command 
great  respect  and  affection.  If  the  twenty-nine  are 
representative  (they  include  a  half  dozen  with 
husbands),  a  woman  in  middle  life  who  has  an 
interesting  and  socially  useful  job  may  have  the 
best  chance  of  any  of  us  for  a  happy  and  produc- 
tive old  age— and  she  won't  have  to  go  to  a  school 
for  grandmothers  to  keep  her  mental  health. 
Virginia  Babcock,  of  Bronxville,  and  all  those  like 
her  across  the  nation,  silently  and  successfully 
serve  us  and  our  children.  Their  gifts  are  heavy 
gifts,  but  seldom  noted.  ^ 


IU^|Miri  III! 

Aiiii^rii'iiii  i  iiiiiiiiiiiiisi 


IJy  DOUOlin  lll(>MI's(»N 

IliVKIC^  (lin  e  in  a  while  I  |»ick  up  a  lionk.  ami  cxrlnirTi  li. 
myself,  ''Now.  al  last,  here  is  wluil  l"\r  hern  wailiiig"for." 

Such  a  liook  is  Hcport  on  the  Vnicricaii  (iommuiiist  f»y  a  lawyer,  .Mnrri- 
Erri.st,  anrl  a  jouriialisl.  I)a\  id  l.olli. 

Here  is  the  lirsi  time  that  aiivone  has  attem[)lc(l  a  srientijic  approach  to  the 
problem  of  the  American  communist.  The  authors  knew  iti  advance  what  tlu- 
communist  'ideology"  is;  how  its  organization  functions  on  the  national  and 
inlernalioiial  levels;  how  it  recruits  members:  how  il  infiltrates  American  or- 
ganizations and  institutions,  governmental  and  |)ri\atr.  \\  r  all  know  or  should 
know  these  things  bv  now. 

But  what  no  one  has  hitherto  attempted  to  find  out  was  nliy  an  American 
becomes  a  communist:  is  there  a  communist  personality  "type":  what  has  been 
the  home  and  economic  background  of  the  communist;  are  some  national 
groups  more  susceptible  than  others:  is  it  true  that  'once  a  communist  al- 
ways a  communist";  how  many  communists  leave  the  party,  and  if  so,  why; 
how  many  consider  leaving  il  hul  don't,  and  if  so,  why  not — and  numerous 
other  questions. 

The  authors'  means  of  obtaining  answers  was  to  study  the  case  histories  of 
something  over  300  ex-communists  willing  to  tell  their  stories  under  the  pro- 
tection of  complete  anonymity.  There  was  no  exception  to  this,  except  of  a 
very  few  persons  whose  names  and  testimonies  have  already  been  made  public. 
Each  in  telling  his  own  story  of  necessity  casts  light  on  many  others,  in  and  out 
of  the  party. 

Anonvmity — and  the  attitude  of  the  researchers — removed  any  atmosphere 
of  inquisition  and  also  tempered  a  possible  inclination  toward  e.xhibitionism. 
These  cases  were  not  of  communist  leaders,  but,  almost  without  exception,  of 
rank-and-file  members.  They  are  not  the  cases  of  members  who  feel  the  urge. 


c       i  ,^n-,l,inr  Marv  Bass  •  Managing  £</''<".  Laura  Lo"  Brookman 

^   "     n  ,'u"iH^r  W'ilhela  Cushman  William  E.  Fink,  Richard  Pratt,  Henrietta  Murdock.  I^uella  G.  Shouer.  Mar>-  hez  Page, 
Associate  Editors:  Hugh  MacNair  Kahler,  Bernardine  Kielty.  A""  Katchelrter    vu^^        _  O'l^ary  Barbara  Benson,  Glenn  ^^althe^v  White.  Donald  Stuart,  Ruth  Imler 
Dawn  Crowell  Norman.  John  Godfrey  Moms  ^^^''2?,''^.' f Sl'^.f       q^^^^       Denny  Shultz,  Margaret  Hickey.  Betty  Kidd.  Ruth  M.Us  Teague 

Contribut,,,,  EdUors:  Gladys  Taber,  ^^ou'se  Pame^^^^^^^  Alice  Conkling.  Joseph  Di  Pietro.  Anne  Einselen.  Betty  Niles  Gray. 

Editorial  Associates:  John  Werner,  Charlotte  Johnson.  R"'^  Mary^Packard.^Kuth^^  ^^^^^^^  ^^^^^^ 

,r  .       Horrl.  V  riTinia  Carr  June  Torrey.  Rosemary  Jones.  Nelle  Keys  Perry,  Peter  Briggs.  Alice  Kastberg,  Adrina  Casparian, 
Assistant  Editors:  Charles  Stryker  Ingerman,  V.clorta  H^/      Y-^f  ^  ,3^„7ee  H  Bauder!  Dorothy  Anne  Robinson.  Jean  Todd  Freeman 

....  Le'l'ltren  Cu^eToo"^^^^^^^^  ^-'^  A"-"  ^""^  ^^^"^  ^"^"^'^ 


Editorial  Assistants 


CHOCOLATE 

PENUCHE 

COCONUT 


unket 


FOOL-PROOF  FUDGE  in  4  minutes!  No 

beating— no  testing  because  "Junket"  Quick. 
Fudge  and  Frosting  Mix  is  pre-cooked  ! 
Praise  will  pour  in  for  this  creamy,  home- 
made-tasting candy.  Recipe  is  so  simple 
even  a  child  can  make  it ! 


TRADE-MARK 


QUICK  FUDGE  &  FROSTING  MIX 

3  DELICIOUS  FLAVORS:  CHOCOLATE,  PENUCHE,  COCONUT 

"JUNKET"  (Rt-B.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off.)  Is  the  trade  mark  of  dir.  Hansen's  Laboratory.  Inc..  Little  F.ills,  N.  Y.. 
for  Us  fudec  and  frosting:  mix  and  for  Its  rennet  and  other  food  products. 


for  a  variety  of  reasons,  to  rush  into  print 
about  their  experiences— or  go  to  the  FBI. 
Their  testimonies  by  no  means  revealed  a 
uniform  pattern,  nor  should  they  lead  to  in- 
discriminating  generalizations.  But  they  do 
reveal  some  facts  that  may  startle  many 
Americans  with  fixed  ideas  about  the  aver- 
age communist,  and  about  what  makes  him 
one.  And  they  also  cast  very  serious  doubts 
on  whether  society  is  taking  the  right 
measures  to  get  rid  of  communism.  Actu- 
ally the  bulk  of  the  testimony  reveals  that 
in  one  particular,  at  least,  society  is  defi- 
nitely aiding  the  Communist  Party  by 
some  of  the  means  it  takes  to  combat  it. 

One  thing  that  the  testimonies  bring  out 
is  that  the  average  American  communist  — 
whatever  may  be  the  case  in  other  coun- 
tries—is not  the  product  of  "poverty,  ig- 
norance, disease  and  exploitation." 

He  has  usually  been  brought  up  in  com- 
fort and  often  in  luxury.  He  is  far  above  the 
average  in  education,  is  usually  a  univer- 
sity graduate,  and  often  holds  a  graduate 
degre'".  He  has  rarely  been  a  delinquent 
child.  But  he  (or  she)  has,  in  a  truly  re- 
markable incidence  of  cases,  been  an  op- 
pressed child,  who  has  "grown  up  with 
marked  hostility  to  an  aggressive  father 
or  ...  an  overwhelming  mother,"  or  is  the 
child  of  a  home  broken  by  divorce,  deser- 
tion or  death. 

The  great  depression  of  the  early  1930's 
did  not  greatly  increase  the  membership  of 
the  Communist  Party— an  idea  widely 
held,  repeated  in  the  last  election  campaign, 
and  often  used  to  explain  or  excuse  the 
growth  of  communism.  Those  who  entered 
the   party   in  revolt 
against  "organized  so- 
ciety" at  that  time  were 
either  people  who  were 
not  themselves  seriously 
affected  by  the  depres- 
sion, or  were  the  newly 
poor.  They  were  not  the 
apple  sellers. 

A  movement  designed 
to  subvert  the  existing 
social  and  political  orders  of  all  the  non- 
communist  states  in  the  world  would, 
one  might  superficially  think,  attract  the 
extroverted  type  who,  were  he  not  a  com- 
munist, might  be  a  gang  leader.  ("Com- 
munist" and  "gangster"  are  sometimes 
used  as  interchangeable  terms.)  This, 
again,  is  not  the  case.  The  average  com- 
munist is  an  introvert,  has  less  than  an 
average  tendency  to  personal  violence,  and 
as  a  child  was  likely  to  flee  from  a  fight 
rather  than  invite  one. 

The  average  American  communist  is  not 
alien-born.  Those  who  compose  the  rank 
and  file  are  almost  entirely  native-born, 
white  Americans. 

The  leadership,  in  contrast,  has  a  great 
many  foreign-bom  individuals,  and  the 
top  command  is  largely  Russian-bom,  or 
born  in  areas  neighboring  to  Russia. 

The  American  Negro,  certainly  the  most 
underprivileged  American  as  a  member  of 
a  group,  is  less  susceptible  to  communism 
than  his  white  fellow  citizen. 

The  professional  hard-core  communist 
is,  in  contrast  to  the  rank  and  file,  more 
cynical,  determined,  supple  and  ruthless. 

The  rank  and  file  are  sacrificial. 

Of  all  the  notions  regarding  the  average 
American  communist,  the  one  that  comes 
closest  to  hitting  the  mark  is  that  he  is  "a 
long-haired  intellectual  who  lives  in  a 
world  of  books  but  never  did  an  honest 
day's  work  with  his  hands." 

The  average  American  communist  has 
been  brought  up  in  a  great  city,  is  timid 
rather  than  aggressive,  spiritually  and 
emotionally  frustrated  rather  than  eco- 
nomically oppressed,  and  is  usually  in- 
competent manually.  Even  if  he  goes  into  a 
factory  to  infiltrate  it,  he  usually  works  in  a 
clerical  position. 

The  average  American  communist  enters 
the  party  young— the  peak  age  for  recruits 
is  18-23,  many  having  served  first  in  the 
Young  Communist  League.  "The  late 
teens  seems  to  be  a  particularly  susceptible 
time." 


It  is  as  fatal  as  it  is  cowardly 
to  blink  facts  because  they 
are  not  to  our  taste. 

—JOHN  TVNDALL 


A  majority  do  not  come  from  church- 
going  families,  though  some,  once  very 
pious,  transferred  to  communism,  anc 
eventually  transferred  back  to  the  church 

All  sorts  of  political  and  social  reasons 
are  given  for  joining  the  Communist  Party 
But  the  same  reasons  which  will  make  om 
person  a  revolutionist  make  another  a  re- 
former. Millions  of  Americans  are  against 
the  evils  and  injustices  the  communists  in- 
veigh against,  and  are  doing  far  more  tharl 
the  communists  to  abolish  them.  Also,  there 
has  never  been  a  time  when  America  lacked 
her  fair  share  of  radicals.  But  these  were 
not  and  are  not  conspirators,  trained  ir 
subterfuge  and  deceit,  and  giving  blind 
allegiance,  to  the  point  of  treason,  to  thej 
government  of  another  country.  The  com- 
munist cannot  just  be  classed  as  "another ' 
radical. 

It  is  obvious  from  these  case  histories 
that  other  factors  than  ideas  or  ideals,  mis 
placed  though  these  may  be,  collaborate 
to  create  the  American  communist.  Onq 
such  factor  is  the  lack  of  love  in  child- 
hood and  youth. 

Communism  recruits  from  youths  who 
are  emotionally  and  spiritually  rather  than 
economically  afflicted;  from  girls  who  are 
wallflowers;  from  boys  who  have  beeni 
unhappy  at  home  and  don't  get  on  well! 
with  the  run  of  other  boys.  The  party  is  a 
refuge  for  the  lonely  and  frustrated.  It 
is  a  very  close  and  closed-in  society  of  peo-| 
pie  trained  to  consider  themselves  a  lead- 
ership elite— a  compensation  to  those  who 
are  not.  normally,  "born"  leaders. 

Many  girls  go  into  the 
party  through  a  com- 
munist boy  friend.  Many 
leave  it  when  the  boy 
friend  leaves  them .  Many 
actually  like  the  "donkey 
work"  allotted  the  rank 
and  file— carrying  ban- 
ners, picketing,  running 
duplicating  machines, 
and  so  on.  Remember, 
these  are  people  who  have  never  "toiled." 
The  Communist  Party  offers  a  social  life 
with  the  comrades;  it  furnishes  at  one  and 
the  same  time  a  substitute  for  family, 
church,  school,  society,  home.  It  combines 
(at  least  for  a  time)  inspiration  and  disci- 
pline. And  it  furnishes  a  father— "The 
Great  Stalin."  Those  who  already  have  all 
these  things,  or  enough  of  them  to  satisfy 
most  spiritual  or  emotional  cravings,  are 
not  communist  "prospects."  And  the  pro- 
fessional communist  paid  organizers  don't 
go  after  everybody.  They  scout  for  easy 
converts. 

Many  of  these  characteristics  have  been 
observable  to  people,  like  myself,  who  have 
attended  communist  rallies,  and  known 
some  communists.  The  Progressive  Party, 
organized  in  1948,  was  certainly  a  com- 
munist front.  My  friend  Rebecca  West 
and  I,  who  were  both  reporting  it,  she  for 
British  newspapers,  quite  separately  made 
the  same  observation:  the  singular  lack  of 
pulchritude  of  the  many  young  female 
progressives  attending  it.  I  wrote  (rather 
brutally)  that  they  all  needed  to  have  their 
hair  washed.  (The  remark  raised  a  horrid 
storm  from  their  parents.) 

Actually,  they  were  not  naturally  less 
attractive  than  the  average,  and  certainly 
neither  the  boys  nor  the  girls  came  from 
poor  families.  They  weren't  dressed  out  of 
department-store  basement  sales,  though 
they  might  as  well  have  been.  But  they 
were  the  type  who  don't  care  how  they  look 
and  affect  a  contemptuous  superiority 
toward  girls  who  do.  Anyone  who  has  lived 
on  a  college  campus  and  known  such  girls 
intimately  enough  knows  that  most  of  them 
are  convinced  that  they  are  too  plain  or 
even  ugly  to  be  worth  an  expenditure  of 
effort.  They  aren't.  They  make  themselves 
as  they  imagine  themselves  to  be.  And 
often  they  have  beautiful,  vivacious  or 
socially  gifted  sisters— with  all  the  dates. 

The  authors  are  convinced  that  the 
problem  of  the  American  communist  is 
primarily  psychological.  They  are  them- 
(Conlinued  on  Page  87) 


\ 


r 


Now  you're 

$POON  DEEP  in 

COUNTRY  Flavor 


llrnr's  corn  so  swcft  and  rirh  —  it's  Ann-m  a\ 
favorite  hrarid  of  ncarn  siyh;  corn.  Two  woruler- 
I'll  iliings  muki-  I)i  i  Mdntk  so  good: 

Wc  grow  our  ouii  -pccial  sc<*d  lo  give 
you  sii|)«Mi(»r  corn  in  every  respect  — 
plunij)  golden  kernels  very  tende-r  becai^ 
lliey're  extra  lliin-skinned. 

I )epeii(lalii I il\ . . . \ on  can  (unnl  on  -upeil* 
flavor  and  ipialilv,  linic  after  lime.  Arifl 
isn't  that  tlie  really  impressive  thing 
about  any  l)i:i.  Month  Food  you  buy? 

It's  easy  to  see  IJki,  Montk  Brand  Torn  gives 
you  the  most  for  your  money  in  cream  o^yle.  loo. 
Knjoy  it  toin'glit. 


p. S.  Did  you  know  tlial,  arrording  tn  thr  U.S.  Drjiarlro^nt  of  i^itor 
(Au^..  IM52).  ranni-d  liuiu  and  vrgrublrv  hsvi-  gvae  up  in  price 
lc»  than  hall  a>  iiltlrh  ai  "all  fooda"  iince  193S-397 


CORN  FEAST  SOUP  -  DANISH-STYLE  MEAT  DUMPLINGS 


soup: 

3  bouillon  cubes 
6  cups  water 

I  bud  garlic,  slivered  (or  V* 
teaspoon  garlic  salt) 

1  teaspoon  salt 

1  cup  each:  carrots,  onions,  celery, 
potatoes  (all  cut  in  small  pieces) 

2  No  303  cans  DEL  MONTE  Golilen 
Cream  Style  Corn 


dumplings:  • 
'/]  lb.  ground  beef 

Vt  lb  ground  smoked 
ham 

V*  cup  fine  cracker  crumbs 
1  egg 

'A  teaspoon  salt 

1  tablespoon  finely  minced 
parsley 


Dissolve  lioiiillon  cul)es  in  water  in  large  kettle.  Add  garlic, 
salt,  carrots,  onions,  celery  and  potatoes.  Simmer  for  1/2  liour 
or  until  vepetables  are  just  tender.  Meanwhile,  mix  all  dumpling 
inpredients:  form  into  small  halls  ahout  T'in  diameter.  (Makes 
30  Ijalls.)  Drop  carefully  into  simmering  soup,  cook  for  V2  hour. 
.•\dd  Dei.  Monte  Golden  Cream  Style  Corn  and  reheat  until 
piping  hot.  Serve  at  once  with  toasted  pumpernickel,  rye  bread 
or  melba  toast.  Makes  6  servings  as  a  full-meal  soup. 


I 

I 

I 
I 


Choose  from  3  styles  for  extra  enjoyment: 

Golden  Whole  Kernel 
Golden  Cream  Style 
White  Cream  Style 


Del  Monte  Corn 


1 1 


4- 

-4- 
4 

■-f 
4 


4- 

.4. 

> 

■4- 

t 

■4- 

4- 
4^ 


By  CLIFFORD  R.  ADAMS 


Be  well  mannered  with  men — it  will  astonish  some  and  delight  all. 


A  Siiifjlr  SlaiulanI  for  Courtesy 

MANY  a  girl  lias  a  special  set  of  manners  for 
dates.  Respectful  and  polite  to  her  elders, 
reasonably  considerate  of  other  girls,  and 
conscious  of  niceties  in  most  situations,  she  com- 
pletely reverses  her  behavior  when  with  a  man  she 
has  attracted,  or  hopes  to  attract. 

If  Mary  is  delayed  in  meeting  another  girl  for  a 
movie,  she  expects  to  apologize.  Yet  she  purposely 
keeps  a  man  waiting  half  an  liour  or  more,  lest  she 
appear  overeager.  When  Joan  lunches  with  a  girl  of 
little  means,  she  suggests  a  modest  restaurant  even 
though  they  are  going  Dutch.  Yet  on  a  dinner  dale 
with  a  man,  she  regards  any  hut  a  pretentious  place 
as  an  affront  to  her. 

An  extrer^^ly  papular  girl  may  get  away  with 
such  behavfor  while  she  is  single.  Being  greatly  in 
demand,  siie  can  conliinie  to  be  rude,  inconsider- 
ate and  highliarldfd.  and  still  get  plenty  of  dates. 
But  her  taclio.  and  the  attitudes  they  foster,  are  a 
serious  handicap  to  her  chances  of  happiness  in 
marriage. 

For  most  girls,  bad  dating  manners  are  also  a 
handicap  in  attracting  dates — or  a  desirable  hus- 
band. Unfortunately,  some  girls  cultivate  such  be- 
havior, in  the  belief  that  it  is  an  aid  to,  or  a  mark  of, 
popularity.  Others  confuse  common  courtesy  to- 
w^ard  men  with  pursuit  tactics;  they  fear  that  if  they 
are  polite,  a  man  will  assume  he  is  being  chased. 

No  man  goes  on  a  date  to  be  made  uncomfortable, 
to  be  inconvenienced  or  belittled,  or  to  be  exploited 
financially.  There  is  little  satisfaction  in  trying  to 
please  someone  whose  behavior  suggests  complete 
indifl'erence  to  him.  Yet  indifference  is  exactly  the 
impression  bad  dating  manners  create. 

•  Don  t  keep  him  waiting.  To  do  so  is  to  bolster  your 
vanity  at  the  expense  of  his  self-respect.  And 
lengthening  the  evening  accordingly  at  the  other 
end  is  a  real  imposition. 

•  Dorit  break  dates.  Most  men  justifiably  consider 
this  a  breach  of  faith,  and  resent  it  even  if  another 
man  is  the  victim. 

•  Dont  use  him  as  insurance,  being  just  nice  enough 
to  keep  him  on  the  string.  When  he  asks  for  a  date, 
don't  stall  while  awaiting  a  better  offer.  Accept — 
and  keep — the  date;  or  decline,  and  take  your 
chances.  But  answer  yes  or  no. 

•  Dont  demand  constant  attentions.  Customarily,  a 
man  lights  a  woman's  cigarette  for  her.  But  for  a 
girl  to  insist  that  a  man  cross  the  room  to  do  so, 
while  she  sits  with  a  lighter  before  her,  is  an  absurd 
ilistortion  of  etiquette. 

•  Dont  take  his  courtesy  for  granted.  When  he  docs 
light  your  cigarette,  or  opens  the  door  for  von.  or 


holds  your  coat,  thank  him — even  though  these  are 
routine  attentions. 

•  Dont  belittle  hint  by  trying  to  prove  your  popu- 
larity. That's  what  you  are  doing  when  you  praise 
vour  other  men  friends  excessively,  or  leave  him  in 
the  background  while  vou  play  up  to  another  man. 

These  little  offenses,  irritating  in  themselves,  are 
more  serious  as  reflections  of  insensitivity  to  other 
people's  feelings.  Men  are  human,  too — Avhether 
dates  or  husbands.  There  is  neither  reason  nor  ex- 
cuse for  a  double  standard  of  manners. 

Husbands  \S  ho  Live  Away  From  Home 

"/";//  in  (I  ijUdndarY.  As  a  construction  engineer,  my 
husband  has  worked  on  Incnty-tico  different  jobs  in 
fifteen  years,  all  for  one  cow/xinv.  lie  likes  excitement 
and  change,  but  I  want  roots  fir  nivsclj  and  our  three 
children.  After  ten  years  of  foUnuing  him  around,  the 
children  and  I  settled  in  this  small  toirn,  and  he  gets 
home  uhen  he  can,  tu  ice  this  last  year.  .\ow  he  wants 
to  bur  a  trailer  so  we  can  be  with  him  wherever  he  is. 
That  tear,  the  children  icould  grow  up  without  a  real 
home;  this  way,  they  re  without  their  father,  and  I 
without  my  husband.  What  ought  I  to  do?'' 

'T^HIS  wife's  story  high-lights  a  problem  which 
^  affects  many  households  to  a  lesser  extent.  A 
man's  absence  from  home  drastically  alters  the 
whole  pattern  and  quality  of  family  life.  Repeated 


How  Irritable  Are  You? 

Ability  to  get  along  with  people  of  either  sex  de- 
pends a  great  deal  upon  your  own  feelings  and  how 
they  are  affected  by  what  others  say  and  do.  Answer 
yes  to  each  question  for  which  you  think  the  answer 
is  true  half  or  more  of  the  time. 

1.  Are  you  grouchy  early  in  the  morning? 

2.  Do  you  lose  jour  temper  easily? 

3.  Are  you  somewhat  on  the  impatient  .si<h-? 
t.  Do  you  raise  your  voice  when  arjiiiinai' 

/>«ps  it  usually  annoy  you  to: 

5.  lie  interrupted  while  talkin;;? 

6.  Have  somchotly  read  over  your  sh«»iilderl' 

7.  Be  held  up  by  a  stop  light? 

8.  Have  somelM>dy  jostle  you  «  hen  passing? 

9.  lie  kept  waiting  past  the  ap|>ointe<l  time? 

10.  Flave  somel>ody  step  ahead  in  line? 

11.  Be  corrected  when  you  make  a  mistake? 

12.  Have  a  visitor  stay  past  >our  hcdtime? 

13.  Be  hurried  when  you  are  already 

hurrying? 

14.  Enter  a  store  and  be  kept  waiting? 

If  "yes"  answers  total  8  or  9,  your  score  is  aver- 
age. A  score  of  6  or  less  suggests  that  people  may 
take  advantage  of  your  good  nature.  With  a  score  of 
10  or  more,  you  may  be  too  irritable  to  make  or  hold 
friends  easily.  Trv  to  be  less  temperamental  and 
more  tolerant. 


Ph.  /)..  Pcnrf  ylranin  Starr  CitUpflf,  Dr/mrtnirnt  nj  Pfivchittititv 


and  prolonged  separations  destroy  the  continuity 
of  relationship  which  gives  marriage  meaning. 

No  reasonable  wife  will  complain  about  occasional 
short  business  trips.  Jobs  which  require  more  con- 
tinuous travel— selling,  journalism,  show  business — 
create  greater  hardship.  But  the  situation  can  still 
be  satisfactorily  handled,  provided  a  husband  keeps 
in  touch  by  letter  and  telephone,  and  spends  week 
ends  at  home.  So  long  as  contact  is  maintained,  the 
sense  of  family  unity  can  be  preserved.  Even  a  long 
separation,  however  unw^elcome,  can  be  tolerated 
if  there  is  a  definite  time  limit  and  prospect  of  being 
reunited. 

But  no  offsetting  factors  are  apparent  in  the  letter 
ijuoted.  This  husband  has  adopted  permanently  a 
way  of  life  which  allows  only  makeshift  arrange- 
ments for  his  family. 

The  only  solution  he  proposes,  a  trailer  home, 
(•onimits  them  to  a  nomadic  existence.  Such  a  life, 
dillicult  for  a  wife,  is  still  worse  for  children,  who 
need  the  security  of  established  friendsliips,  familiar 
schools  and  a  stable  environment.  Following  the 
husband  from  place  to  place  might  relieve  the  prob- 
lem temporarily,  but  will  nev^r  solve  it,  since  it 
denies  the  opportunity  to  put  down  roots. 

If  the  wife  wishes  to  preserve  her  marriage,  and 
rejects  the  idea  of  uprooting  her  children,  only  two 
choices  remain.  The  first  is  to  continue  to  maintain 
a  permanent  home  for  the  family,  with  the  husband 
returning  at  intervals;  for  this  arrangement  to  be 
tolerable  or  enduring,  he  must  find  some  means  of 
comrng  home  more  often,  certainly  not  less  than 
twice  a  moilth. 

The  reniaining  and  best  solution  is  for  the  hus- 
band to  change  his  work  conditions  to  allow  him 
more  adequate  time  with  his  family.  If  he  cannot  be 
permanentfy  assigned  to  one  location,  perhaps  he 
can  be  assigned  to  one  area,  so  that  he  can  com- 
mute from  home,  or  at  least  get  home  often.  Failing 
that,  he'd  best  seek  other  work. 

Changing  jobs  may  mean  accepting  less  satisfac- 
tory employment,  but  a  real  husband  and  father  puts 
his  family's  welfare  and  happiness  ahead  of  his  own 
personal  preference.  And  if  the  change  means  some 
loss  of  income,  a  w  ife  will  gladly  trim  expenses  for 
the  sake  of  sharing  her  life  with  her  husband. 

Certainly  some  solution  must  be  found  to  this 
wife's  problem  if  her  marriage  is  to  retain  any 
meaning.  While  her  help  will  be  needed  in  solving 
it,  her  biggest  contribution  will,  be  in  persuading 
her  husband  to  face  his  responsibility — and'Sccept 
it. 

Do  You  Know? 

Are  there  more  men  than  teomeii  in  the 
I  tiited  Stales? 

No.  For  each  1000  adult  women,  there  are  only 
966  men. 


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16 


ami  mean  it, 

it's  a  very  important  date. 
Tliitt  is  tite  date  titat  has  you  wronderiny 


What  shall  t  nwear? 

This  isn't  the  date  to  experiment  with  sister  Nancy's  new 
silk  print  or  to  buy  the  first  dress  that  fits;  this  is  the  date  to 
wear  the  tried  and  true — something  old;  but  add  something 
new!  It's  easy  to  feel  casual  in  a  blouse  or  sweater  and 
skirt  you  knoiv  are  becoming  and  appropriate  for  movies 
and  informal  parties;  or  a  wool  dress  with  a  three-compli- 
ment record — if  it's  to  be  a  concert  or  play  in  town.  For 
any  date  more  formal  than  a  pep  rally,  wear  "heels."  If 
you  simply  must  wear  something  "new,"  make  it  a  mono- 
grammed  belt  or  novelty  scarf.  Save  that  fancy  dress  for  a 
big  school  dance  when  you  may  want  to  "knock  him  out!" 


Will  he  lilee  my  folks? 

Yes — especially  if  you  gently  lead  him  into  the  parents' 
den!  Be  ready  early  and  greet  him  at  the  door.  If  everyone 
is  natural,  he'll  be  at  ease  too.  (Of  course  dad  will  feel 
slightly  grumpy  if  you  insist  that  he  wear  a  tie,  and  mother 
irritable  if  you  hide  the  tintype  of  her  great-great-grand- 
father!) Although  your  parents  rib  you  about  him  when 
you're  alone,  they  won't  in  his  presence,  particularly  if 
you  supply  a  topic  of  conversation.  ("Mother,  this  is  Pete. 
Pete,  this  is  my  dad.  Pete  writes  the  editorials  for  the  school 
paper.'")  Pete  may  be  quizzed  on  his  plans  for  the  date. 
Relax.  His  parents  did  it  too. 


What  shall  ire  talk  about? 

If  your  best  stories  fly  away  when  silence  rushes  in,  try  the 
Life  Around  Us  tactic:  a  comment  on  something  you  see. 
Is  it  a  concert  poster?  Then  call  his  attention  to  it  and  say, 
"I  wish  I  knew  more  about  classical  music."  (Dogs  and 
automobiles  are  even  more  inspiring!)  Or  try  a  combination 
comment-and-question:  "Do  you  sing  in  a  choir?  A  boy 

with  a  deep  voice  like  yours   "  Boys  (and  girls)  like 

to  talk  about  their  interests:  you,  themselves,  sports, 
school,  and  so  on.  Never  apologize  for  a  longer-than-usual 
silen'ce;  instead  say  warmly,  "This  was  such  a  good  idea" 
(to  go  for  a  walk,  take  the  bus). 


Will  I  do  the  riyht  thiny? 

Fortunately,  the  days  of  an  endless  array  of  silverware  are 
over.  Today  the  correct  way  is  usually  the  casual  way.  It's 
perfectly  right,  for  example,  for  either  you  or  your  date 
to  ask  a  waiter  to  explain  something  on  a  menu  that's 
puzzling.  If  your  biggest  problem  is  determining  the  size  of 
Pete's  wallet,  you  can  say,  "What's  good  here,  Pete?"  or 
"What  do  you  suggest?"  (In  his  desire  to  do  the  right 
thing,  he  may  suggest  something  much  too  expensive;  if  he 
does,  order  something  which  costs  a  little  less.)  Give  your 
order  to  Pete,  who  will  repeat  it  to  the  waiter.  Confess  your 
confusion,  and  Pete  will  feel  both  smooth  and  protective! 


Will  he  kiss  me  yood  niyht? 

You  hope  he  wants  to  but  that  he  wont.  (You  don't  want 
him  to  think  you  go  around  kissing  every  boy  who  takes 
you  out.)  Most  girls  and  boys,  too,  agree  that  the  first  date 
is  just  too  soon  for  a  good-night  kiss,  so  dismiss  the  pos- 
sibility from  your  mind  and  decrease  the  probability  by 
acting  accordingly.  Get  out  your  key,  smile  and  say,  "It's 
been  a  lovely  evening.  Thank  you,  Pete."  Then  open  the 
door  and  disappear.  If  you  linger  at  the  door  or  go  into  a  long 
oration  on  How  Much  Fun  It  Was  he'll  wonder  what  you 
expect  him  to  do  and  if  he  ought  to  make  a  speech,  too, 
and,  well,  most  boys  just  don't  like  to  make  speeches. 


Will  he  eall  me  ayain? 


If  you  thoroughly  enjoyed  yourself,  it's  a  pretty  safe  bet 
that  he  did,  too,  and  that  he'll  be  on  the  phone  again  as 
soon  as  his  finances,  schoolwork  or  basketball  practice  will 
let  him!  However,  at  least  once  in  your  life  you'll  meet  a 
guy  who  will  seemingly  be  swept  off"  his  'feet  with-  your 
charms  and — you'll  never  hear  from  him  again!  (He  has 
his  reasons,  as  you  do,  for  his  dating  ups  and  downs.)  Or 
you'll  come  home  from  a  date  mortified;  you  know  he  was 
bored  stiff  and  then— surprise,  surprise— you're  wrong  and 
he's  on  the  phone  the  next  day!  Life  (isn't  it  wonderful?) 
is  like  that.  .  .  .  Sweet  dreams. 


PHOTOS  BY  TANA  HOBAN 


I      v     I)     I  I 


II       •)       M       I  I       M       I  |( 


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oil 


fROSTILU 


FRAGRANT 


A      LADY'S       LOVELY       LOTION       SINCE  1873 


Soothing!  Smoothing!  Softly  fragrant!  That's 
Frostilla.  Use  it  for  your  hands— to  smooth,  soothe, 
soften!  For  your  legs— to  end  those  nasty  nylon  snags. 
For  elbow  bumps,  ankle  chaps,  all  the  ills  soft  flesh 
is  heir  to.  Never  sticky,  never  greasy,  never  gummy. 
Frostilla  leaves  your  skin  so  fresh,  so  fragrant,  oh.  .so 
smooth!  Yes,  pamper  r///  of  you — with  fracrrnnt  Frostilla! 


I'  AItT  .1 


''Th«-  liltir  I'ool  tVuln'l  IvW  niv 

until  l\vt»  \v«>«>ks  u^o. 

If  voii  «-ari  lu  r  

By  IIKNKY  It.  SM  FOKi),  M.|). 


IE  ]Xiir  who  had  boon  ushered  into  I  lie 
onsullinn  r(X)m  were  obviously  mother 
iauKhter—  the  resemblance  was  strik- 
The  professional  eye  made  note  of 
■  facts,  however,  which  caused  its 
r  to  observe : 

lie  young  lady  is  the  patient.  I  see.  Sit 
over  here  in  this  chair,  my  dear.  You 
t  to  tx'  in  bod  this  very  minute,  instead 
liking  around.  vSit  over  there,  madam, 
1  please." 

le  daughter  had  nothing  to  say  except 
rcely  audible  "Thank  you."  Her  face 
lushed  and  her  eyes  showed  a  dullness 
1  the  doctor  had  noted  with  his  first 
e.  She  sank  wearily  into  the  chair  as 
ih  she  were  grateful  for  its  support, 
doctor  consulted  the  history  card. 
Irs.  Gray,"  he  said,  "I  am  glad  to 

you  and  your  daughter.  What  has 
iht  you  to  consult  me?" 
Veil,  Doctor,"  was  the  woman's  reply. 

a  friend  of  Mrs.  Brown,  who  is  a  pa- 
of  yours.  She  told  me  how  you  got  her 
if  serious  trouble  last  month:  and  so  I 
j;ht  we  ought  to  consult  you.  If  you 
lo  as  well  for  my  daughter,  well  both 
)ur  friends  the  rest  of  our  lives." 
ndeed,"  was  the  doctor's  comment, 
1  may  be  sure  I'll  do  the  best  I  can  for 
Not  all  cases  are  alike,  however,  and 

yield  to  treatment  more  happily  than 
s.  Mrs.  Brown's  case,  I  imagine,  was 
ibly  very  different  from  your  daugh- 

'hat's  just  the  point.  Doctor,"  was  the 
;  reply.  "It  isn't.  It's  the  same — too 
1  the  same — that's  the  first  reason  that 
:ed  me  to  bring  her  to  you." 
V'ell,  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  discuss 

Brown's  case  with  anyone,"  pointed 
he  doctor.  "Suppose  we  get  down  to 

about  this  one.  How  old  is  the  young 
?" 

'ifteen — just  past  fifteen." 

fifteen!  I  should  have  thought  her 

fes,  I  guess  anyone  would.  She  looks  it 
there  are  occasions  when  she  acts  it." 
le  girl  cast  a  glance  of  quick  resent- 
at  her  mother,  then  looked  down  at 
ooT.  The  woman  proceeded,  somewhat 
rly: 

'lo  has  always  seemed  older  than  her 
5,  and  has  gone  around  with  older  girls 

she  gave  up  pigtails.  Lately  she's 
n  to  going  around  with  older  boys — 
that's  the  trouble." 

think  I  see.  Well,  now,  Mrs.  Gray,  I 
3  you'll  have  to  supply  me  with  some 

sht.  1952,  by  Henry  B.  S.llford,  M.D. 


further  facts,  if  I  am  to  come  to  further 
conclusions." 

"Oh,  I'll  do  that,  all  right,"  i)romised 
the  woman,  "and  maybe  it'll  do  her  gtxKi 
to  hear  me  tell  about  her  carryings-on  lo  a 
stranger." 

The  doctor  raised  a  hand  deprecatingly. 
"  I  only  want  to  hear  what  necessarily  bears 
upon  your  daughter's  present  condition," 
he  ix)inted  out.  "  Her  conduct  concerns  her 
ak)ne— her  and  her  parents,  I  might  add." 

The  woman  swallowed  hastily  and  then 
resumed  in  a  flow  of  words  that  became  a 
veritable  torrent,  as  though  she  were 
anxious  lo  get  the  subject  ofT  her  mind  and 
be  done  with  it : 

"Fk)  has  been  going  around  with  a 
bunch  of  older  girls  and  boys  at  the  coun- 
try club.  Swimming  pjirties  at  night,  and 
that  sort  of  thing.  They've  been  drinking, 
too,  quite  a  lot,  I'm  informed  now  that  il's 
too  late.  Well,  there  was  a  dance  at  the 
club  on  last  Fourth  of  .July,  and  Flo  went 
out  with  one  of  the  boys  at  intermission. 
They  went  and  sat  in  one  of  the  parked 
cars — it  must  have  happened  then." 

"I  see,"  said  the  doctor  gently.  "That 
was  just  about  two  months  ago." 

"That's  right.  Doctor." 

"And  when  did  you  first  learn  about 
her  .  .  .  difficulty,  Mrs.  Gray?" 

"The  little  fool  didn't  tell  me  until  two 
weeks  ago.  If  she  had,  it  might  have  been 
different." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,  Mrs.  Gray.  I 
think  I  can  understand  her  reticence.  I'd 
like  to  ask  you  one  question,  though  it's 
none  of  my  particular  business.  Have  you 
been  in  the  habit  of  inviting  your  daugh- 
ter's confidences?  " 

"Why— ah— the  idea  of  such  a  ques- 
tion!" sputtered  Mrs.  Gray.  "Of  course  I 
have.  But  the  little  fool  just  keeps  every- 
thing to  herself  and  then  she  goes  and  gets 
herself  and  her  family  into  this  mess." 

"How  did  it  happen  that  a  .girl  barely 
fifteen  was  allowed  out  alone  with  some 
fellow  older  than  herself  in  a  parked  auto- 
mobile at  midnight,  after  they'd  all  been 
dancing— and  drinking?" 

Mrs.  Gray  arose  with  hauteur.  "I 
didn't  come  here  to  be  insulted.  If  you  had 
any  idea  of  what  it  means  to  raise  a  family 
these  days  " 

"Oh,  but  I  have."  the  doctor  quietly  in- 
sisted. "  I  raised  two  daughters. 

"Mrs.  Gray,"  he  continued,  "I  had  no 
intention  of  insulting  you.  I  just  stated  the 
facts  as  they  appeared  to  me.  I  sympathize 
very  much  with  your  daughter.  She  has  got 
(Continued  on  Page  15S) 


Oil  1 


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BRASSIERES 

NEW  YORK  16  •  CHICAGO  54  .  LOS  ANGELES  U  .  TORONTO 


LADIES'       HOME       JOURNAL  January,  1953 


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COPYRIGHT.   1948,  THE  NEW  YORKER  MAGAZINE.  INC. 


LOST  ANP  FOUND 


'Charlie!"  .  .  .  "Martha!" 


Bv  BERNARDINE  KIELTY 


IN  the  course  of  the  past  thirty-five 
years.  7.5,000  wives  have  appealefl 
for  help  in  locating  their  missing; 
hiishancis,  and  only  l.>  husbands  have 
asked  lo  have  their  wives  located,  ac- 
cordinjs:  to  one  of  the  bureaus  that 
undertake  to  find  what  is  lost. 

Something  must  be  wrong,  and  we  have 
no  solution,  but  we  did  read,  in  a  book 
on  diet,  that  "  The  quarrelsome  mate  is 
quite  likely  to  be  one  whose  nerves  are 
starved  for  protein,  calcium  and  the  B 
vitamins,  especially  thiamine."  (Kat  am> 
Grow  Younger,  by  LeIonI  Kordel.) 

We've  also  looked  into  Your  Mar- 
riage AND  THE  Law,  written  by  two 
well-known  women  lawyers,  Harriet 
Pilpel  and  Theodora  Zaveti.  It  gives 
the  legal  angle  to  all  problems  likely 
to  come  up  in  marriage— wills  and 
estates,  the  rights  of  children,  joint 
property  and  so  on— and  is  thorough- 
going and  to  the  point. 

In  Gertrude  Lawrence's  uhU,  true  lo 
her  ivorldly  experience  and  her  under- 
standing of  a  tvoman's  needs,  she  he- 
queathed  to  her  daughter,  Pamela,  all 
her  wearing  apparel,  and  two  thirds 
of  her  estate,  to  he  held  in  trust  until 
she  reaches  the  age  of  forty-three. 


the  same  as  after  reading  How  to 
Stop  Smoking,  by  Herbert  Brean. 

We  read  that  book  on  April  17,  1951, 
and  on  the  morning  of  April  18  woke  up 
saying,  "I  shall  never  smoke  again!" 
And  to  date  have  not  smoked,  nor 
wanted  to  smoke.  Headaches  are  more 
serious.  And  we  await  the  results  of  this 
particular  reading  with  interest !) 


Strange  as  it  may  seem,  Headaches: 
Their  Nature  and  Treatment, 
hy  Steivarl  If  b// and  Harold  G.  Wolff, 

is  a  fascinating  book— that  is,  if  you 
have  headaches.  As  one  who  does  have 
them,  this  reader  felt,  after  finishing  the 
book,  as  though  she  had  had  a  thorough 
treatment  for  migraine,  and— what  is 
more— as  though  she  would  not  have 
another  attack!  (The  effect  was  much 

•  •••#•••< 


.4s  father  approaches  his  60's  and 
sees  retirement  looming  up  ahead,  he 
finds  himself  having  to  scru I  inize  the 
future  Just  as  carefully  as  he  did  when 
he  plannetl  to  get  married.  Time  was 
when  "retirement"  suggested  a  lei- 
surely old  age.  People  looked  forward 
to  it.  Now  they  wonder  tvho  is  going  to 
pay  the  bills,  or  at  least  what  they're 
going  to  do  with  all  that  spare  time. 

The  Best  Years  of  Your  Life: 
What  to  Do  When  You  Retire,  by 
Marie  Beynon  Ray,  makes  that  future 
sound  positively  exciting.  It  is  a  so- 
phisticated book  aimed  primarily  at 
people  of  means.  Look  at  the  big  men  in 
big  jobs,  it  says,  men  who  have  retired 
from  the  making  of  money  to  the  making 
of  a  belter  world,  like  Hoover,  Benton, 
Bowles,  Hoffman. . . .  Note  the  fact  that 
Trygve  Lie  has  been  pleading  for  more 
American  women  to  enter  politics. 

The  point  the  book  makes  is  thai  there  is 
no  connection  ivhalever  between  ability 
and  age.  At  sixty  and  over  we  are  prac- 
tically as  capable  of  learning  as  ever. 
Memory  and  speed  of  reaction  may  be  a 
shade  off.  but  judgment,  reason,  creative 
imagination  and  speech  are  unimpaired 
and  often  improved.  If  ever  a  book  coidd 
bolster  morale,  this  is  it. 


I  II     11  A  1. 


vs  AiNi»  MivVNs  I'o  Si  <:<;i;ssi  I  I. 
i;\li:!N  l',  by  lurlvn  Cnllif  and 
f.'.  I'ttrroul,  is  fiiHiicntly  pi.uli- 

suKHi'sls  ways  of  starting  small 
Bs  enlfr|)rist's.  if  you  have  sonic 

lo  invesl,  of  ^;l.•llinn  jobs  if  yon 
t.  flic  cryinn  need  for  dinnilied 
.ic  help  opens  up  vistas  for  (he 

woman,  and  Uic  field  of  "allciid- 
for  men. 

use  oj  (ion  riiniciil  /x/ni/ilili  ls  is 
iized:  Occiiluitional  Oiilloak  I  hind - 
951  edition,  U.S.  Dc/xirhHoil  oj 
for  {xirl-limi'  j'ariHinn  advice.  And 
■  small  hiisinesswan.   ten  lilies 

Old  by  the  U .  S.  I)e/>arlmeiil  of 
jce,  at  from  15  to  20  cents  each. 

KKK  T«  Ki'Vi'iKi':  \\i>  How,  by 
iWrn  .S.  Illtitirluiifl,  docs  whaL 
iiiscs  ^,'ives  climale,  cost  of  liv- 
issihilities  of  part-time  work  in 
i  localities,  together  with  Ihc 
)ny  of  some  of  the  people  who 
'tired  lo  (licsc  places. 


II  Ihiiik  Ihf  .lOUKNAI.  is  ii  kimmI 

ilK-    lo   IllMf  illxHit    lll<-N<-  <l:i>s, 

I  iilvc  iiol  (' ol' »       I  il  iiiciiiil  loa 

III  ill  I  rail  i\v  >  oiiiiK  la<li<'s  mo  re 
.i\l>    >»-ais   Ufitt.    "iMj  ^raiiil- 

.loliii  S.  I,iiiilsa>."  Hi'iU's  Mrs. 
iii'lliiill  (I'oiii  I  loll>  uoo<l.  ">tas 
.i's|»<'ai'<';iii  ;iii4l  <'lassi<'al  :i<'loi\ 
l<-<l  \t\  a  lal<-iil<-il  anil  aii'oiii- 
I  <i>iii|>aii>  uhii'li  coiisisl I'll  <>l 
i>  of  liis  (laii^li  I <  IS  as  roiilil  l>c 

Iroiii  lioiiK-.  [M>  iiioIIkt  anil 
I  ITS  i-njo.M'il  |ila>iiiK  I  In- iliaina 
iiM'liiiK  >«illi  llii'ir  lallicr.  ImiI 
■iii^oil  al  llii'  iIioiikIiI  of  l»-iii{i: 
I'll  as  a  slio«  li'oii|>«-.  .So  >tlii'ii- 
ii'V  a|>|ii-ai'<Ml  on  llio  slit'i-l  on 
a>  lo  and  I  l  oni  I  lir  I  lii-al  i-i-.  < nu- 
ll ;il\^  ;i>  s  i-;ii-t-i4><l  I  111- l;i  I  i-sl  <'o|>> 

l,\i>ii;s-  iioMi;  .J<>ll|{^vl  -in 

lial  llic-ri-  slioiilil  he  no  i|iies- 
lo  I lieii-  ideals." 


?'s  a  new  Charles  Dickens, 

)/,£;  l)ioiirapliy  in  two  volumes,  by 
.h'litisoii,  which  will  keep  the  en- 
nily  busy  all  wi>iter.  As  CliJ'lon 
m  says:  "He  is  pari  of  our  mental 
lid;  we  know  his  characters  even  if 
ot  read  his  books;  we  are  all.  in  a 
is  children." 


en  I  was  a  young  girl,  my  mother 
e  not  lo  talk  to  strangers  on 
'  writes  Margaret  Mackuy.  who 
as  she  grew  up  that  talking  to 


FROM  THE  NEW  COLLECTION  OF 
"sister"  CARTOONS  BY  STANLEY 
AND  JANICE  BERENSTAIN 


'Oh,  voii  are.  are  \oii?" 


rs  on  trains  was  one  of  the  most 
3le  practices  in  traveling.  How 
dd  she  get  someone  to  help  with 
gs?  Or  if  not  by  talking  to 


strangers,  by  at  least  lookinK  Ix-'wil- 
dered  and  wryly  amuHcd,  when  help  of 
some  kind  was  imperative?  I 
IN  A  .Siiin:AMi-;  is  a  chatty  jKcounl  of 
the  attractive  author's  travels  in  many 
countries  on  four  conlineniH.  (We  know 
that  she  is  attractive,  because  we  once 
met  her.  Where?  On  a  train!) 

And  speakinii  oJ  Iravelinn.  in  Yonkns 
the  Otis  Elevator  Co.  reci  iilly  o/,nied  up  a 


uiii-kiNnni  (iMiuiicv 

Mill  SAtllHIlAV  IIVKNINI.  HIHI 


'  Vrlliiir.  Mill  kiiou  llial 
guia^e  we  liad?  .  . 


neio  ISO-car  parkin<i  lot.  it  has  one  section 
marked  "Ladies'  Roiv."  It  is  close  to  the 
gate  and  has  an  extra-wide  aisle. 


An  engaging  book  for  teen-agers,  the 
most  omnivorous  of  all  readers,  is  |{|<; 
'l"i<;ii{    AM>   CintisiiAN.  by  I'riiz 

Mtilili'iiH^p.,  the  story  of  a  Ciiincse 
boy  and  an  English  boy,  who  have 
wondrous  adventures  together  in  Mon- 
golia, across  the  Gobi  desert  and  among 
the  remote  tribes  of  inner  Asia.  1 1  will 
remain  on  the  bookshelves  long  after 
other  children's  books  have  been  dis- 
carded. 

• 

Did  you  know  that  a  hummingbird, 
less  than  four  inches  long,  can  put  a 
hawk  to  flight?  That  house  wrens, 
frivolous  as  they  sound,  mate  for  life? 
And  that  crows  are  on  the  increase? 
OUK  Ama/.ING  Birds,  l.illle-known 
Facts  Alxiiil  'llieir  l'ri\ale  Lives, 
by  Robert  S.  Leiiinioii,  answers  all 
such  ornithological  questions,  is  beauti- 
fully illustrated,  and  will  make  a  good 
gift  for  the  nature  lover  who  isn't  just 
out-and-out  scientific. 

Another  most  attractive  nature  book  is 
Green  Treasury,  edited  by  Eiltcin 
M  ay  Teale—an  anthology  oj  nature 
writingjrom  sources  as  varied  as  the  Bible 
and  Thomas  Wolje.  W.  H.  Hudson  and 
John  Steinbeck,  Rachel  Carson  and 
A  ristotle. 

There's  also  fine  fare  in  mysteries: 
Alias  Uncle  Hugo,  a  Tommy 
Hambledon  behind-the-Iron-Curtain 
spy  story  by  Mnuniug  Coles:  THE 
Clock  Strikes  Thirteen,  murder 
in  a  bacteriological-warfare  lab,  by 
Herbert  Brean ;  and  a  new  Nero  Wolfe- 
Archie  Goodwin  whodunit.  Prisoner's 
Base,  by  (always  our  favorite)  Re.\ 

StOtlt. 

The  Moment  of  Triumph,  by 
Pamela  Frati  kau,  is  a  good  meaty 
novel  about  one  of  those  devastating  tall 
(Continued  on  Page  120) 


\>  Im  ii  \  on 
S.'imiii  I  ( ,oM\s  \  h'k 
iH-\>  iiiii-ir.il  \s  oiM  II  if  1 1  III 


SoiiK  iliin;^  woiidci lul  liapjjcns 
l'<  <  .1  use  oil  I  (i\  I  he  roniiini  i( 
^  Ilf  '>!  I  in-  ;.;r('.ilcsi  sioi  \  teller 

^  "I  lil<  Ml  .ill  ...  ill  If  I  Imjmi  (lie  I.I  I  villous 

.1  II  'I    11  II  I  Ol  ;^(l  I  .1  M  (•    I  .1  I  ( ■^   Il  ,     \',\<\  .  .  , 

S.'imiici  (.oldwyn  li.is  (ic.iied  soiiicilini'.;  more 
'''•"1  ;i  iiioiioii  I  lire  .  .  ,  soiiKi  Iiiiig  oil  tlic 
beaten  path  of  eniei  i.iiiiiiieiil  as 
wc  know  it  ...  a  imilt i-inillion 
dollar  1  Lchnicolor  musical 
that's  all  .song  and  daiu c  and 
love  and  joy! 

Yes,  something  wonderful 
happens  — and  it  happens  to 
you  —  when  you  see 

"Hans  Christian  Andersen"! 


8  WONDERFUL  SONG  HITS! 

"No  Two  I\(i|)k  '".  '".Vn)  \\  here  I  W  ander",  ^ 

'■Thuinbeliiia  ",  "Wondtrliil  Copenhagen"  , 

.  . .  and  more  ' 


f 


Hans 


CtvristiatvAridersen 


ond 


^  ARLEY  ^'^'^NGER  •  JEAr'^^MRE 


COLOR  BY 


'  DOR  •  Screenplay  by 

■     -  jraphy 
fS.  IKC 


IMPORTANT  ANNOUNCEMENT!  Once  a^ain  you  can  add  to  your  treasured  family  sterling  flatware! 


•  TRADE  MARKS,  COPYRIGHT  \  BY 


Shown  here,  only  66  of  over  200  pattern- 
classics  from  the  famed  Gorham*  Sterling 
collection,  all  again  available  on  special 
order!  Even  if  your  pattern  isn't  among 
these  shown,  your  Gorham  dealer  will  give 
you  whatever  "special-order"  information 


you  desire.  Just  bring  in  a  sample  of  each 
piece  of  the  pattern  you  wish  duplicated. 
Wonderful  to  know  that  when  you  choose 
from  any  of  the  precious  Gorham  Sterling 
patterns,  you're  assured  that  you  can  add  to 
it... even  years  later! 


Look  for  these  famous  hallmarks  ^ 
and  you'll  know  it's 


STER.LIIVG 

AMERICA'S  LEADING  SILVERSMITHS  SINCE  1831 


1 


I'UmJC  AI'FAIHS  IHil'AHTMKNr 

tun  ted  by 

M  VK<;AKKT  IIICMIV 


One  Maii^  One  Hoy.  .  . 


Hro||iri>  |)\  CI 


Bi<i  Sisters  NiM^led  Too 

By  MAK(;AHK;r  IIK.KKY 

ONE  million  children  are  picked  ti|)  h\  ilic  |i(ilic,'  cvci  s 
year,  acrordinp;  to  tiic  latest  rejiort,-  t'roin  the  Cliii- 
dron's  Bureau.  As  many  as  .{.SO.OOO  are  lirou^ht  liefore  I  he 
courts  for  delinquent  heliax  ior. 

Most  of  these  unfortunate  youngsters  w  ho  come  to  eourl 
are  around  fifteen  years  of  age.  Roys  outtunnher  girls  four 
to  one,  hut  the  girls  seem  more  [)erniat)entiy  damaged  1)\ 
the  experiences  that  lu  ing  them  afoul  of  the  law.  Society  is 
more  reluctant  to  hel()  the  girl  "with  a  past"  than  ifie  hov 
with  a  court  record. 

Not  enough  organizations  provide  help  and  guidance  to 
girls  and  women,  either  hefore  or  after  thev  "get  into 
tronhle."  In  several  cities,  however.  Big  Sister  groups  are 
providing  suhstitute  family  ties,  wholesome  recreation  and 
even  shelter  to  girls  in  need.  Prohation  officers  and  ca.se 
workers,  hard  pressed  hv  their  firofessional  load,  welcome 
the  help  of  these  volunteer  "hig  sisters"  ahle  to  give  the 
friendship  and  [)ersonal  attention  voung  girls  crave. 

One  of  the  first  Big  .Sister  cluhs  was  started  in  the  hor- 
ough  of  Queens,  New  York,  in  1914  hy  a  group  of  women 
who  acted  as  volunteer  assistants  to  prohation  officers  in 
their  work  with  girls  and  hovs.  Tfieir  pioneer  work  led  tr) 
the  founding  of  tfie  Child  Service  League  of  Queens  l?oi- 
ough,  which  now  conducts  recreation  |)rograms  in  churches 
and  puhlic  schools  for  some  .Wi)  children  a  dav.  In  Manhat- 
tan, the  Catholic.  .lewish  and  Protestant  Big  Sisters,  all  with 
offices  in  the  Children  s  Court  huilding,  give  a  helping  hand 
to  voung  people  in  need  of  counsel  and  guidance. 

In  Minneapolis,  Minnesota,  the  Big  Sisters,  who  offer 
opportunities  for  all-round  good  citizenship,  find  that 
voung  girls  want  simple  things  such  as  an  afternoon  of 
skating,  tahle  tennis,  learning  to  cook,  listening  to  records. 
An  agencv  of  the  Connnunitv  Chest,  the  Big  Sisters  main- 
tain a  camp  on  Lake  Minnet(mka.  where  many  girls  have 
had  their  first  taste  of  wholesome  outdoor  life. 

In  Los  Angeles,  the  Big  Sister  League  offers  homeless  or 
insecure  girls  not  onlv  friendship,  recreation  and  shelter 
but  job  guidance,  and  medical  or  psychiatric  care.  For 
pregnant  girls  and  young  mothers  particularly  tliere  is 
protection  and  guidance. 

Child-care  agencies  wherever  possible  are  adding  care- 
fully selected  volunteers  to  the  team  needed  to  win  back 
youngsters  to  normal  childhood.  Last  year  at  the  Big 
Brother  convention  Dr.  Eduard  C.  Lindeman,  former  pro- 
fessor of  the  New  York  School  of  Social  Work,  called  the 
volunteer  the  connecting  link  between  the  professional 
scientific  interest  in  human  welfare  and  the  community. 
The  Big  Brother  and  Big  Sister  organizations,  he  observed, 
give  a  recipe  for  usefulness  and  action — a  way  to  demon- 
strate the  brotherhood  of  man.  THE  END 


When  you're  eleven,  and  a  boy,  and  it  seems  that 
everyone's  against  you— that's  when  a  fellow  needs  a 
real  pal.  The  Big  Brothers  of  Boston  help  many  such  . 
boys  each  vear  throush  friendship  and  guidance.  % 


Y(H  are  .Mrs.  T 
lack  I'egrr.  (lireelor  id  llir  Kii-ii.ii  Hig  Bruiii.  i  \^^...  Mil. in, 
pulled  ii  cliair  out  lor  lii>«  fjiicHl  iiml  -al  ilnwii.  Iiai  k  In  ilcKk,  lai  iii^' 
lier.  Beliinil  liini  on  llie  wall  wa>.  a  |ii(lnre  of  a  ..riiall.  frecltlcil  Im»\. 
wearing  a  Hal,  roiiml  lial  ami  lallrn  d  -iieak-..  i  Inn  on  liM.  mIiIi  iln- 
oiie-wnid  ca|i|iuii.  Slnicksl" 

The  woman's  glain  i-  raised  |o  llir  |)iciure,  uvniiiinf;  iln-  (linM  |<>r"«. 
syrnpallielic  <'yes.  as  she  repeated  her  iianir.  "I  came  In  >*«'e  voii  uh<iut 
tny  son,  Hohhy,"  Aw  naid  a  Lit  iii  r\i»uslN  aini  <|uii  kl\.  "Ile"«  ••|ev«Mi 
in>\\— the  other  hvo  are  girl-.  \l\  liii<liaiid  wa-  killed  al  \ii/io.  .  . 

Her  slor\  was  iml  an  iinfatniliar  one  to  tin-  Hig  lirolher  \sMii*tali(in. 
w  liirli  liiars  all  kind-  with  one  I  act  or  in  <  oinnion  —  vourif!  hoys  willn»iJl 
lather>  and  witlioul  aii\  -orl  id  male  <  (inipaiiion-hip  or  guidarn-e.  \Iosl 
idleii  it  is  liecaiise  of  the  death  ol  (he  lather  pi  rliap-  a  hero"-  dealh: 
in  other  ca.se.s  the  lather  is  in  [trison.  or  a  nnnt.il  li(.-|iilal.  or  ha«  de- 
serted his  family,  or  is  ineurablv  ill.  S<nni'.  lather*  in  name-  oid\,  are 
irresponsible  weaklings  or  brutal  drunkard*.  Ollen  poverl\  i«  the  lot  rd 
a  woman  ahuie  with  xcnitig  son>:  ofti-n  nnniev  is  mil  a  [irohlem.  Iln- 
l)oy"s  need  is  the  same  —  he  Mi'e(l>  a  dad. 

The  |)rohlems  Bohhj  s  nmther  had  were  not  serious,  \el  they  could 
become  so.  Bobby  was  not  doing  well  in  school  and  had  already  been  a 
truant  several  times.  He  was  a  big  boy  —  lo(»  hig  lor  her  to  handle.  In  a 
recent  tantrum,  he  had  struck  and  kicked  her.  He  did  not  get  along 
well  with  olhers  of  his  age  and  tended  to  he  a  bullv,  pieking  on  smaller 
vdimgslers.  Could  \Ir.  l  eger  (iml  a  Big  Brother  lor  Bohhv,  who  w<iulil 
straighten  hini  ouiy  ^oung  Jack  IVger.  a  handsom*-.  blond  "man  s 
niaii  "  w  ho  would  change  anyone's  ideas  of  what  a  social  wfirker  should 
look  like,  thought  that  he  coulil,  but  didii  l  [)romise  that  an\  I'l^ 
Brother  would  "slraighlen  Bobb\  out. 

The  most  anv  Big  Brother  can  do  for  a  little  brother  is  to  be  his 
good  friend,  and  perhaps  -iib-titute  (Continued  on  Fagr  II6) 


LOUIS  B.  SCHLlVElv 


isni  11  your  move  r 


what  could  be  simpler?  Milk  is  all  you  add. 

And  compliments,  compliments,  compliments 


Pills  bury  thanks  you  — for  making  these  the  most  popular  of  all  cake  mixes. 
Today  more  Pillsbury  Cake  Mixes  are  bought  than  any  other  brand  —  by  far 

Pillsbury  Cake  Mixes 

WHITE. . .  CHOCOLATE  FUDGE. . .  GOLDEN  YELLOW 


Cake  MIX 


Cake  MIX     cake  MIX 


No  eggs,  flavoring  or  extras  of  any  kind  required. 
These  are  complete  mixes. 


FN  jmiuary.  I<>(».{,  l.cfon-  llic 
L  (liiyw  «>r  iiK-oiiK-  lax,  \ii<lr«-w 
!urii<';;ii-  fiavi'  liis  nalivc  lowii  in 
(■ollainl,  DmilVniiliiK',  ,S2.r»(M»,. 
DO  aii.i  joliii  I).  K.H'krr.  llcr  do- 
al<-<l  S7,(>(»(»,()(M)  f„r  'l'|{  K  s.  ar.  li. 
I  PH.  Aslor  had  ()(>(»  |i<-<>|)l<-  l<> 
inner  in  licr  l^'illli  Av<-ini<-  nian- 
on.  llaH'ol  all  llu-  nn-iTs  snilH  in 
I'lH  connlry  wrrr  made  of  dark 
Inc  Hcr;;*',  an<l  Tallidah  Hank- 
i\id  waH  Ixirn. 

new  dcpurlnifnl  ap|i«-ar<Ml  in 
le  Juniiary.  I'HKi,  JOIIHNVI., 
n«'V«'r  hclor*'  at  t<>in|>(c<l  l»y 
!!>•  iiiaKa/.inf"  —  free  a<lviec 
om  one  of  I  lie  <-oiinlry 's  abl<-st 
ained  nurses  (o  every  JOLU- 
\L  reader. 

"iei'cH  rifihths  of  the  actions  of 
uncn  are  injlueiivt'd  by  the 
>r<ls,  'If  hat  wHI  people  sav?'" 
niplains  Editor  link.  "How  long 
e  tronien  going  to  remain  under 
is  thraldom?" 

dling  100  girls,  the  JOURNAL 
und  thai  18  of  them  >touhl 
llier  he  men  heeause  of  the 
sight  of  eonventioii  hamper- 
0  their  activities. 

lys  the  Lady  from  Philadel- 
lia:  "If  some  man  has  paid  you 
e  highest  compliment  in  liis 
'wer  to  bestow,  and  you  cannot 
cept  his  love,  do  not  tell  other 
•Is.  This  little  self-denial  for 
nor's  sake  will  make  you  a  liner 
)uian." 

t  is  a  I'erv  caittmaii  ihiii^  to 
<tr  a  girl  say,  'Oh ,  dear!  I  have 
e  blues  tof/ay/'  An  orange  he- 
re breakfast  is  excellent  for 
is  trouble." 

iy  sister  and  I  are  typewrit- 
5,"  says  a  JOURNAL  reader, 
kfter  eleven  years,  we  now 
ch  average  .§9.75  a  week  and 
ve  bought  a  home  worth 
)00." 


4p4»NNi|»  jiImhiI 

|M>o|»l4>  YOU  know. 

K<lil4»rM  voii  liki'. 
»n«l  wliiii  |{o«>N  on 

ill  !>■<»«•  l'4»rk 


THE  day  when  l«enl>  allracliM- 
young  wf>men  from  ltnrnia.<:e\- 
lon,  Kgypt,  Pakistan.  Japan,  Korea, 
Lebanon,  Lilxria,  the  IMiilippines, 
Tliaihuui,  Maht>a,  (weece,  India, 
i  iirkey  anil  I  ganda  <  anu-  to  visit  us 
all  here  at  the  Workshop,  ue  were 
l«-ft  feeling  very  nuK-h  in  love  uilli 
|>raelically  the  whole  luinian  race. 
These  girls  «ere  wonderful.  They 
asked  hun<lreds  of  <(uestions,  from 
washing  ma<-liines  to  polities,  lead- 
ing one  of  our  young  editors  to  ex- 
claim, "Pd  like  to  believe  I  etiuld 
step  off  a  plane  in  Ceylon  or  I  ganda 
and  seem  as  poised  and  informed!"' 
They  had  just  arrived  l>>  air  Iroin  all 
their  various  natix-  land>  (uliere 
they  arc  staff  or  volnnte<-r  \torkers 
for  the  Y.W.C.A.),  and  I  hey  will  be 
-  in  this  country  until  June  (working 
at  various  Vs  throughout  the  coun- 
try). Mostly  they  spoke  perfect 
Lnglish.  Even  so,  lh<-y  agreed  uilh 
Mary  Bass  when  she  sai<l  liou  nice 
it  was  "to discover  that  as  uonx'n  we 
all  speak  the  same  language."  An- 
other instinct  these  girls  shared  with 
femininity  everywhere  showed  up  in 
Dawn  I\oriuairs  beauty  dc|>art  nient, 
where  each  one  unfailingly  of  her 
«»wn  accord  as  she  went  through 
stepped  on  the  scales.  .  .  .  Please,  if 
you  should  happen  to  in<-et  up  with 
them  while  they  are  here,  give  them 
our  very  best. 

It  came  over  us  that  occupational 
hazards  occur  in  the  most  unlikely 
occupations  when  we  heard  Journal 
copy  chief  Jack  tt  erner,  who  not 
only  guards  the  grammatical  purity  of 
the  magazine  but  generally  speaks 
correctly  himself — when  we  heard  him 
say,  "I  feel  like  I'm  catching  a  cold." 
E.xplained  he  had  a  Taw  Jameson 
hang-over  from  repeated  readings  in 
manuscript  and  proof  of  May 
Dalies  Martenet's  serial  beginning 
in  this  issue.  Except  for  always  using 
"like"  as  a  conjunction,  Taw  speaks 
perfect  English.  Jack  queried  the  au- 
thor. In  Taw's  part  of  the  Tarheel 
State,  seems  like  that's  the  way  every- 
body talks. 

When  Wilhela  Cushman  came 
back  from  Paris  the  last  time,  she 


r).  Ii.ici^'ti  )  vi>i|.,r- :  M,.i 
iK  cii,  Irlmrioii;  MalH-l  (;.ir.liicr.  Imlia;  Jaiur  Siil.a  Khan.  I'akiMan 


-III  1. 1 IV, .1  ,,H  with  ii  forecaot  on 
inri,  s  lasliiiinx.  "Look  for  grcaler 
elegaiH  )-,"  s,ii,|.  "|- imrii  r  nnil- 

ings  and  reidix  rexplriidi  ii I  \eH|H  — 
llie  Edwardiiin  loiu  li.'"  hiivinu 
returned  lliroiigb  Spuin.  ..h,  hk 
how  tlx-  IniiuH  were  nlliii  •.iili>- 
lra<-keil  and  held  up.  She  •.iirniised 
that  I  lie  train',  i-arried  I  riiiu  o  iii 
least.  Itui  it  wa-n"!  Iraneo.  she 
found  out:  it  «;is  jusi  U^\,.  \  ,^\, 
trains  an<l  lisli  t  rucks  have  I  be  right 
of  way  in  .Spain.  Tbey  aren't  re- 
frigcratt-d  and  have  to  burr>.  ^  ou 

know    wbat    liapi  s    l<i    (isli  midI 

visitors  after  llirc<-  da>s. 

Fashions,  too.  travel  fast.  The  jeweled 
H'ool  shawl  and  the  electric-pink  gloves 
on  this  month's  cover  came  from  Paris- 
designed  by  ScUiaparelU,  selected  by 
II  ilhela  Cushman  when  she  was  there 
covering  the  winter  selections.  By  the 
time  the  holiday  season  arrived,  the 
shawl  idea  had  leaped  the  ocean  and 
spread  from  coast  to  coast.  Wilhela  took 
the  picture  after  she  got  back  to  New 
York.  The  girl  is  Miss  Evelyn 
Mclirule,  who  wore  the  red  hat  on  the 
August  cover. 

Coming  past  AV>rn  (yLeury's  pat- 
tern room,  we  thought  we  saw  a  fa- 
miliar face,  a  slender  figure  being  fitted 
on  this  winter  day  with  a  summery 
frock.  It  was  Dorothy  Black,  here 
from  England,  and  about  to  leave  for 


EVE  ARNOLD 


Ilurtna  (wc  hojx-  ihi  rc'll  be  1- 
with  three  dresses  thai- Nora  dc-,. 
the  kind  you  can  wash  out  and  wear 
ihe  next  morning.  And  if  you  want  to 
know  Dorothy's  size,  it's  a  fourteen. 

H  oineii  inuHt  In-  urou  inu  temm  m-iimi- 

liii — anil  iiiitrt-  Henniltlt  alnnit  llt4- 

sizf  of  ihfir  .  Ilo'^iery  nittuuftii  - 
liirer-i  rriHirt  ii  ilrtiii-nff  it,  h/;,.,  >f  >  ^ 
iiinl  unili-r.  an  inrreiimf  in  sizen  III 
••nil  II. 

When  you  see  Come  Back,  Little 
Sheba,  as  you  surely  should  when  ii 
comes  out  next  month,  y«u11  notice 


Dorothy  Black,  on  her  way  to  Burma, 
gets  new  dresses  from  Fashion  Dept. 


Star  Shirley  Booth  and  producer 
Hal  Walhs  arimire  Little  '^hrhi. 


there's  much  talk  about  the  dog  Sheba 
which,  like  the  rabbit  in  Harvey, 
never  appears.  Shirley  Booth,  who 
stars  in  the  movie,  spoke  of  this  to 
Peter  Briggs  backstage  recently  at 
the  Empire,  where  she's  playing  one  of 
the  hit  parts  of  the  season  in  The  Time 
of  the  Cuckoo.  "Nobody  knew  what 
Sheba  looked  like,  so  to  set  our  minds 
at  rest,  we  let  an  animal  painter  de- 
cide its  breed  and  do  a  portrait."  .As 
you  can  see.  Sheba  turned  out  to  be  an 
English  sheep  dog. 

Speaking  of  Harvey,  its  author.  .Mary 
Chase,  was  telling  Louise  Benjamin 
how  affected  she'd  been  by  one  line  in  a 
review  of  her  new  play.  Bernardine.  this 
season.  The  critic  wrote,  "Mary  Chase 
tcrites  like  a  woman  who  leaves  her 
bureau  drawers  open."  "Now  how  does 
he  know."  she  asked  Louise,  "that  I 
keep  my  bureau  drawers  open?" 


27 


The  dress  tore  loudly. 

Clutching  at  the  stuff, 
Chloe  faced  her  mother. 

"What  makes  you  so  lying? 
You  lying  mother!'''- 


I 


1'hltH'  irtiM  ln'iiiil ifiil  —  /oo  hi'iiulifni. 
Whtit  Mtrtiiiffv  fiitiirt'  vinihl  Ihvrv  /##»  lur  thin  rliilil 
trho  had  alrvatlfi  U'lirni'il  tit  hitli'  hvr  hi'iiri?  .  .  . 

ih'ffinninff  a  ni'ir  Hvriiil 

Bv  »IAV  IIAVIKS  >I.\HTK>ET 


EVEN  in  the  season  of  wildest  rainy 
winds  the  sound  comes  in  no  more 
than  a  murmur.  You  would  not  be- 
lieve an  earthquake  could  budge  this 
moorland  prison  or  a  tidal  wave 
dampen  it  inside.  You  begin  to  think 
that  even  air  and  shadow  do  not  shift 
in  here.  And  that  this  place  should  be 
set  upon  something  which  moves — 
upon  a  blossoming  globe  awhirl  in  the 
air — seems  impossible.  So  it  is  inside. 
But  from  outside,  on  nights  when 
there  are  bright  moons  and  the  moor 
grass  tosses  and  rolls  away  for  miles, 
I  think  the  prison  must  seem  like  a 
ship.  A  dark  hulk  afloat  on  a  sea.  We  are 
here,  each  separate,  and  yet  we  are  to- 
gether as  men  are  on  a  ship.  For  some, 
I  knoAv,  it  is  a  gray  voyage  with  no  port 
but  the  grave.  But  for  me  this  is  not  so. 

I  am  one  of  the  lucky  ones.  I  came 
here  with  much  to  go  upon,  and  I  have 
paper  and  pencils  and  the  warden's 
leave  to  keep  the  light  burning.  And 
the  nights  are  long.  Work  is  over  and 
supper  eaten  by  half  past  five.  A  man 

Copyright,  1952.  by  May  Davics  Martenet 


with  a  story  to  write  can  do  well  here. 
There  is  lime  not  only  for  remember- 
ing, but  for  seeing  a  shape  to  which 
the  remembered  things  belong,  and 
what  now  takes  hold  of  my  thought  is 
the  shape  inside  of  which  we  mcM^ed — 
or  that  we  made,  all  of  us  together — 
myself  and  the  others.  Those  others, 
each  one  of  them  could  not  be  more 
known  to  me — more  mine — if  I  were 
a  writer  who  had  made  them  up.  I 
have  cooked  what  they  ate,  made 
clean  the  indoor  spaces  where  they 
lived,  and  tended  the  trees  and  flowers 
of  their  lands.  I  have  read  all  the 
books  of  their  libraries,  driven  them 
in  their  cars  over  plains  and  moun- 
tains, through  cities  and  forests — and 
felt  their  thoughts  hke  a  taste  in  my 
mouth.  All  who  knew  us — them  and 
me — pitied  me  that  I  should  be  so 
much  theirs  and  have  nothing  of  my 
own.  But  this  was  foolish  pity. 

I  saw  her  there,  looking  like  some 
kind  of  little  flowery  jewel  in  a  black 
(Continued  on  Page  66) 


111 


'I'Im-  ,|oiini;irH  (;(»III|>l.  l.  -ill.()||,-UM,r  NoN.  I. 


Mary  fakhkn  went  into  the  gun 
room  one  morning  about  half  past 
eleven,  and  took  her  husband's  re- 
volver and  loaded  it,  I  lien  shot  her- 
self. The  butler  heard  the  sound  of 
the  gun  from  the  pantry.  He  knew 
that  Sir  John  was  out  and  that  he 
would  not  be  back  until  lunchtime, 
and  no  one  in  the  house  had  any  busi- 
ness to  be  in  the  gun  room  at  that 
hour  of  the  day.  He  went  to  investi- 
gate, and  there  he  saw  Lady  Farren, 
lying  on  the  floor,  in  her  own  pool  of 
blood.  She  was  dead. 

Aghast,  he  called  the  housekeeper, 
and  after  consultation,  they  agreed 
he  must  first  telephone  the  doctor, 
then  the  police,  and  lastly  Sir  John 
himself,  who  was  at  a  board  meeting. 

The  butler  told  the  doctor  and  the 
police,  who  arrived  within  a  few  min- 
utes of  each  other,  what  had  hap- 
pened; his  message  on  the  telephone 
had  been  the  same  to  each: 


iiy  III  >i  \  i  iiii:ii 

"ilci  ladyship  has  had  an  accidj-til. 
She  is  lying  in  the  gun  room,  with  a 
gunshot  wound  in  her  head.  I  fear  she 
is  dead." 

The  message  suriiinoinng  Sir  John 
home  was  worded  differently.  It  just 
said,  "Would  Sir  John  picasf  n'tiirn 
home  at  once,  as  her  ladyship  had  met 
with  an  accident." 

The  doctor,  therefore,  had  to  break 
the  news  to  the  husband  when  he 
came.  It  was  a  painful,  wretched 
business.  He  had  known  John  Farren 
for  years,  both  he  and  Mary  Farren 
were  patients  of  his,  a  happier  mar- 
ried couple  did  not  exist,  and  they 
were  both  looking  forward  to  the  baby 
that  was  to  be  born  "o  them  in  the 
spring. 

No  difficulties  were  expected;  Mary 
Farren  was  normal,  healthy,  and  de- 
lighted at  the  prospect  of  being  a 
mother. 

Copyright.  1952.  by  Daphne  du  MaurKT, 


Ihe  siiicidr.  ili<r<ff)rc,  did  noi 
make  MMi.se.  Ue<ause  it  was  suiride. 
i'liere  wa.s  no  doubt  about  it.  Mary 
l  arren  had  scribbled  three  words  on  a 

riling  pad.  which  she  had  put  on  the 
desk  in  the  gun  room.  Tlie  wor<ls  were, 
"Forgivi-  me,  darling." 

The  gun  had  been  put  away  un- 
loaded, as  always.  Mary  Farren  had 
quite  definitely  taken  out  the  gun, 
loaded  it,  then  shot  herself. 

The  police  corroborated  with  the 
doctor  that  the  wound  had  been  self- 
inflicted.  Mercifully,  she  must  have 
died  at  once. 

Sir  John  Farren  was  a  broken  man. 
In  that  half  hour,  talking  to  the  doc- 
tor and  the  police,  he  aged  about 
twenty  years.  "But  why  did  she  do  it?" 
he  kept  asking,  in  agony.  "We  were 
so  happy.  We  loved  each  other,  the 
baby  was  on  its  way,  there  was  no  mo- 
tive, 1  tell  you,  absolutely  no  motive." 

(Continued  on  Page  112) 


lleop  williin  <■■■<«  «%-«>niaii*»<  lii'iirl  is  ii  9«04«r«>l.  Slw  tUwH  nwt  know  ii  v«>i. 
Ii<>r  IiiikIisiikI  iiiiimI  ncvi'r  kn«»w. 


'Why  did  she  do  it?"  Sir  John  asked  later. 

we  loved  each  otiier." 


'We  were  so  happy. 


I  I 


30 


Mite 


By  ELIZABETH  DUNN 


A  UGUST  heat  hung  over  the  garden. 
JTm.  The  Sunday  paper  clung  to  Candy's 
fingers ;  Bill,  stretched  out  in  a  deck  chair, 
lay  gasping  like  a  large,  languid  trout. 
There  was  the  sound  of  a  car  stopping 
on  the  gravel  drive,  followed  by  the  slam 
of  the  screen  door,  and  Molly  and  Adam 
Campbell  came  out  onto  the  terrace.  Bill 
rolled  his  eyes  at  them. 

"Thank  heaven  it's  you!"  he  groaned. 
"I  was  just  yearning  for  you  both." 

Adam  began  smugly,  "Precisely  the 
reaction  of  all  our  friends  " 


But  Molly  interrupted.  "Why?"  she 
demanded,  with  cold  suspicion. 

Bill  replied  with  disarming  candor, 
"Because  Candy  has  invited  something 
named  Lily  de  Forest  to  tea." 

Adam    was    outraged.    "Nobody  is 
named  Lily  de  Forest!" 

"She  married  the  de  Forest  part," 
Candy  explained. 

"And  is  now  trying  to  unmarry  him," 
Bill  added. 

"Oh,  I  know  who  you  mean!"  Molly's 
black  eyes  snapped  with  interest.  "The 
girl  who's  rented  the  Oliphant  house. 
How  do  you  know  her?" 

"My  mother — her  mother,"  Candy 
said  economically.  "We're  supposed  to 
be  kind  to  her.  Mother  says  she's  a  pa- 
thetic little  figure.  Life  has  treated  her 
cruelly." 

"I  do  not  like  women  with  pathetic 
little  figures,"  Adam  announced  regally. 
"And  life  has  treated  me  cruelly,"  Bill 
said.  "Who's  going  to  be  kind  to  me?" 


"Nobody,  dear,"  Candy  said.  "You 
go  and  get  the  tray.  It's  in  the  pantry." 

Bill    arose    with   agonizing  effort. 
"There  are  whole  days  when  I  think 
divorce  is  a  noble  institution.  And  don't 
tell  me  not  to  slam  the  screen  door,  be 
cause  I  intend  to." 

"Darling,"  Molly  cooed,  "don't  you 
want  to  help  Bill?" 

"No,  darling,"  Adam  replied,  with  his 
eyes  shut. 

Molly  looked  at  him  and  wisely  aban- 
doned this  stratagem.  She  turned  .o 
Candy.  "I  have  some  news  for  you.  You 
know  the  Labor  Day  dance  at  the  coun- 
try club?  Well,  Fve  been  elected  chair- 
man of  it — and  I've  had  the  most  mar- 
velous idea!"  Adam  rolled  over  on  the 
edge  of  the  terrace,  looking  apprehen- 
sive. "This  year,"  Molly  announced 
happily,  "it's  going  to  be  called  an  Ara- 
bian Night's  Entertainment — and  every- 
one will  come  in  costume.  Arabian 
costume." 

"Oh,  no!"  A  hoarse  cry  issued  from 
the  living  room.  Bill,  in  the  doorway, 
gave  every  evidence  of  being  about  to 
drop  the  tray.  "Say  it  isn't  true,  Molly!  " 
Molly  grinned.  "Prizes  for  the  best 
costumes — a  grand  march  atmidnight — 
Arabian  food  for  supper — and  the  deco- 
rations! Wait  till  you  see!  Isn't  it  a  heav- 
enly plan?" 

Bill  put  the  tray  down  with  a  small 
crash .  Adam  buried  his  head  in  his  arms, 
and  shuddered.  "It's  an  obsession,"  he 

moaned.  "It's  a   (Continued  on  Page  151) 


THE 


JUDGMEN 


OF 


LILY 


THE  dogs  that  a  person  reads  about  are 
generally  pretty  heroic.  It  has  got  so  a 
dog  doesn't  seem  worth  mentioning  unless  it 
has  at  least  saved  a  baby  from  drowning,  or 
maybe  rescued  an  aged  couple  from  burning 
to  death  in  a  flaming  cottage.  So  probably 
Jupiter  isn't  a  very  suitable  dog  to  center  a 
story  about,  because  of  all  dogs  resident  in  the 
North  Temperate  Zone  in  the  Western  Hemi- 
sphere during  the  present  century,  he  was  cer- 
tainly one  of  the  most  notably  unheroic. 

A  large,  shaggy,  brown-and-white  beast, 
with  paws  the  size  of  teacups,  he  was  the 
product  of  a  variegated  ancestry  in  which  bulk 
and  good  will  had  been  dominant  traits.  He 
never  did  a  brave  deed  in  his  life.  He  was  not 
noble.  He  wasn't  even  quick  or  cunning,  ex- 
cept at  such  things  as  favored  his  comfort. 


like  sneaking  up  onto  the  davenport  the  in- 
stant the  family  was  gone.  He  was  very  simply 
a  sizable  dog  of  genial  disposition,  slow-mov- 
ing, capable  of  assuming  enormous  dignity 
when  his  feelings  were  hurt,  undiscriminating 
in  his  esteem  for  human  beings,  and  abso- 
lutely dependent  upon  the  aifection  of  the 
family  which  owned  him,  the  Mertons. 

Understanding  his  need,  the  Mertons  cod- 
dled him  a  bit.  Indeed,  the  only  excuse  for 
writing  about  such  an  unheroic  dog  at  all  is 
that  he  managed  to  inspire  in  three  people  an 
attachment  which  was  deep,  warm  and  oc- 
casionally the  least  bit  ridiculous.  Such  at- 
tachments are  never  ordinary. 

Oh,  there  were  reservations.  Mr.  Merton, 
who  tried  to  grow  flowers  in  his  back  yard, 
annually  found  Jupiter's  predilection  for 


sleeping  on  freshly  turned  earth  a  grave  de- 
terrent to  horticulture.  Mrs.  Merton,  who  had 
learned  to  put  up  with  muddy  pawprints  on 
the  kitchen  linoleum,  still  raged  when  Jupi- 
ter sneaked  upstairs  to  sleep  on  the  beds. 
And  Barbara  Merton,  going  on  sixteen,  had 
lately  begun  to  object  violently  to  the  long 
brown  and  white  hairs  which — as  a  result 
of  Jupiter's  long-standing  conviction  that  he 
was  a  lap  dog — decorated  all  her  skirts, 
blouses,  sweaters,  dresses  and  coats. 

Yet  for  all  their  grumbling,  the  Mertons 
were  seriously  fond  of  the  big  old  dog  that 
had  emerged  out  of  the  fat  puppy  with  the 
wobbling  legs  which  they  had  got  eight 
years  before  on  Barbara's  seventh  birthday. 

People  will  do  strange  things  for  dogs  they 
are  fond  of.  There  (Continued  on  Page  78) 


''"Good  old  Jupie!" 
crooned  Barbara. 


!#*'  iHTvr  dill  a  hraro  tli'Vfl  in  tiitt  lifp. 
and  titougli  ltt>  lliought 

hi'  Iran  a  lap  dog 
hi*  tniM  thi'  Hizv  of  an  viephani— 
a  irhilo  vlophant. 


34 


Built  by  Joseph  Niglitingale  in  1792  and  designed  by  an  architect 
named  Caleb  Ormsbee,  this  house,  with  its  fine  pedimented  Pal- 
ladian  front,  is  one  of  the  largest  early  frame  houses  in  America. 


HOUSE 


Suddenly  from  the  bigness  and  bustle  of  downtown  Providence  you  come  to 
a  kind  of  residential  clilf  up  which  you  climb  through  quiet  streetfuls  of  early 
elegance  and  charm.  It  is  as  though  the  fine  old  houses  standing  on  the  steep 
hillside  were  taking  part  in  a  period  tableau;  the  periods  they  represent 
ranging  from  pre-Revolutionary  to  the  beginning  1800's.  You  soon  realize 
that  it  is  the  later  ones  that  are  the  larger  and  more  magnificent,  standing  out 
like  stars  fro..i  the  chorus.  And  the  reason  for  their  splendor  can  be  found 
in  the  fact  that  they  were  built  by  wealthy  citizens  of  the  town  at  a  time 
when  the  prosperity  of  Early  Republican  Providence  had  reached  its  peak, 
principally  through  the  fabulously  rich  trade  with  China,  a  trade  which  had 
its  effect  on  the  furnishings  of  the  great  houses,  as  you  will  see  in  the  photo- 
graphs on  these  four  pages.  For  here  are  three  of  the  finest  of  these  homes. 

IS         ic  I  (    11   V  IS  i>     i»  te  v  1'  I 

Architectural  Editor  of  the  Journal 


The  palatial  scale  and  character  of  the  Nightingale  house  can  be 
seen  from  this  immense  and  handsomely  furnished  bedroom  with 
its  exquisite  chandelier  and  its  queenly  canopied  four-poster. 


Thebroken-pedimentecldoonvavan.l„ui,nifu.en,ma,U,.|ur.heNi,lmn«aleparIor^ 

century  woodwork.  Ihc  wl.ole  l.ouso  is  iK-aulilully  ,nai,Uai,u-,l  l.y  ils  ow-um-.  JoIw,  N.Vl.ola.  Un,.„.  „f  ,|h-  old  Pn.vi.l,.„c,.  family. 


Stateliness  was  one  of  the  prime  eliaracteristics  ot  weaitliy  homes  in  tlie 
early  repubh'c,  particularly  true  of  tliis  great  example  from  1810. 

E  »  -^v  i%.  R  r»     c  ."V  le  «  1  rx'  o  T  o  rv 

HOUSE 


Edward  Carrington,  who  came  by  the  house  in  1812,  was  a  Providence 
merchant  of  obvious  means,  a  shipowner  and  shipbuilder  to  boot.  He  was 
also  consul  to  China,  as  his  collection  here  of  Chinese  rarities  makes  clear. 


This  fabulously  colorful  reception  room  which 
opens  into  the  Chinese  parlor  on  the  previous  page 
recalls  in  its  richness  of  architecture  and  deco- 
ration the  great  early  mansions  of  Mississippi. 


E  x>  "w  ^irz»     c:       it  i«  t  rv  «»  i  o  ix 

H  O  ILJ  S  E 


The  big  canopied  four-poster  in  one  of  the  major 
Carrington  bedrooms  carries  upstairs  the  sumptuous 
feeling  of  the  rooms  below.  The  house  is  made  open 
to  the  pubhc  by  the  Rhode  Island  School  of  Design. 


1 


.17 


AN  UNFORGETTABLE  STORY 


OF  THE  POWER  OF  GOODNESS 


AN  IRRESISTIBLE  LITTLE  BOY 


BORN  WITHOUT  ARMS. 


By  Leon  a  S.  Bruckner 


1ITTLE  did  I  believe 
J  when  I  entered  the 
hospital  to  give  birth  to 
my  second  child  that  the 
events  that  followed  would 
change  my  entire  life.  I  had  no  premonition 
that  anything  was  wrong  when  I  kissed  my 
husband  good-by  that  March  7,  1950. 

Immediately  I  was  prepared  for  the  baby's 
delivery.  I  do  not  know  how  much  time 
elapsed  before  I  was  placed  on  the  delivery 
table.  The  pains  were  coming  quickly,  evenly 
spaced.  I  barely  had  time  to  take  a  deep 
breath  of  relief  after  each  when  the  next  pain 
would  start.  I  opened  my  mouth.  It  was 
parched,  and  my  lips  cracked  from  dryness.  I 
spoke,  but  it  was  just  a  low  whisper:  "When 
is  my  doctor  coming?" 

I  felt  a  hand  take  mine,  and  with  effort  I 
opened  my  eyes.  It  was  Dr.  K.  I  felt  some  of 
the  tenseness  of  my  body  relax.  "There  now, 
Mrs.  Bruckner,"  he  said  gently.  "Just  a  few 
more  moments  and  it  will  all  be  over." 

As  he  spoke  I  could  hear  someone  moving 
around  the  table  I  lay  on.  I  heard  my  doctor's 
voice  again;  I  do  not  know  what  he  said,  but  I 


Copyright.  1952,  by  Leona  S.  Brucltner.  This  is  a  coodensation  of  the  book 
soon  to  be  published  by  Simon  &  Schuster. 


felt  the  ether  mask  being  slipped  over  my 
face.  I  began  to  breathe  deeply,  eagerly,  wait- 
ing for  sleep  to  end  the  throes  of  childbirth. 
Almost  at  once  the  mask  was  lifted  from  my 
face.  I  gasped,  "More — I'm  not  asleep  yet." 

The  mask  was  again  over  my  face  and  I 
faintly  heard  the  voice  of  my  doctor  telling 


"There  is  to  be  no  crying  in  this  house.  We  do  not 
pity  ourselves  or  our  son,  and  do  not  want  pity." 


me  to  bear  down,  bear  down.  I  was  utterly  ex- 
hausted, but  I  did  try  to  follow  his  orders. 
Even  before  that  pain  was  over  another  came, 
and  it  was  the  worst  of  all.  Almost  as  though 
in  a  dream  I  heard  the  words  of  my  doctor: 
"Ah,  good,  good,  the  head  is  already  out." 

I  braced  myself  for  the  nejct  pain.  It  came, 
and  then  there  was  complete  silence.  The 
next  pain  was  somewhat  easier  to  bear,  and 
through  it  I  heard  the  almost  unrecognizable 
voice  of  my  doctor.  I  heard  a  mumble  of 
indistinguishable  words,  and  then  the  loud 
voice  of  my  doctor  saying,  "Put  her  to 
sleep — now.  At  once!  Put  her  to  sleep." 

I  must  have  still  been  half  awake  because 
I  could  hear  someone  moaning.  Although  I 
was  in  that  world  of  half  sleep  and  half 
wakefulness,  I  realized  it  was  myself  who  was 
crying.  I  wanted  to  stop,  but  I  seemed  to  have 
no  direct  control  over  my  actions,  and  I  really 
did  not  care.  Then  I  heard  another  voice 
faintly  crying,  and  after  a  while  I  heard  my 
name  called.  I  recognized  the  voice  of  my 
husband.  I  felt  no  curiosity  to  know  about 
the  child  1  had  delivered.  My  eyes  were 
tightly  closed,  and  it  seemed  that  it  would 
be  impossible  for  me  to  open  them  even  if  I 
had  to.  That  quiet  strange  voice  kept  calling 


.l'> 


my  name  over  and  over. 
It  faded  and  then  I_could 
no  longer  hear  it.   All  was 
quiet  and  still  then — I  was  asleep. 

I  felt  the  sun  streaming  on  my  face, 
and  it  awakened  me.  For  a  long  time  I  lay 
trying  to  collect  my  thoughts.  My  body  felt 
weak,  but  my  mind  was  alert  and  rested,  and 
eager  for  details  of  the  previous  night. 

I  recalled  how  quickly  everything  had  hap- 
pened, my  disappointment  at  not  being  put 
completely  to  sleep  as  I  had  at  the  birth  of  my 
first  child,  Karen,  just  three  years  before. 
Remembering  the  voice  of  my  doctor  telling 
the  anesthetist  to  put  me  to  sleep,  I  was  puz- 
zled. What  had  been  the  reason  for  such  a 
strange  procedure?  If  the  doctor  had  planned 
to  put  hie  to  sleep,  why  had  he  not  done  so 
before  the  actual  delivery  had  started?  Why 
hadn't  I  been  awakened  immediately  follow- 
ing the  delivery  of  the  child? 

A  middle-aged  nurse  came  in  and  looked  at 
the  chart  that  was  hanging  at  the  foot  of  my 
bed.  "Are  you  Bruckner?"  she  asked  me  in 
a  surprised  tone  of  voice.  "You  had  a  seven- 
pound  boy  last  night." 

"Oh,  how  wonderful,"  I  answered,  and 
sighed  happily."My  husband  must  be  excited." 


\ 


"His  Jure  lit  uj>  with  warmth  and  beauty, 
and  his  intelligent  eyes  laughed;  suddenly 
the  tight  knob  in  my  heart  melted  away." 

"He  was  here  last  night.  He  looked  terribly 
upset.  He  only  stayed  about  thirty  minutes. 
When  you  didn't  awaken,  he  left." 

I  wondered  w  hy  my  husband  had  been  so 
upset.  I  remembered  his  apparent  composure 
when  he  had  accompanied  me  to  the  hospital. 
His  calmness  must  have  been  pretense  to  re- 
assure me. 

The  nurse  washed  and  sponged  me, 
changed  me  into  a  fresh  hospital  gown,  and 
assisted  me  in  combing  my  tangled  hair.  When 
she  left  the  room  I  sighed  with  happiness.  I 
felt  wonderful. 

1  called  to  my  roommate,  Dorothy,  "W  hen 
do  they  bring  the  babies  to  the  mothers?" 

Dorothy  grinned.  "I  am  sorry  to  be  the  one 
to  tell  you,  but  no  babies  are  being  brought 
to  the  mothers.  There  has  been  a  siege  of 


colds  in  the  hospital. 
You  can  walk  to  the  nurs- 
ery w  indow  to  see  him  as  soon 
as  you  are  allowed  out  of  bed." 
"Oh,  gosh,"  I  said,  "now  f  will  have  to 
wait  five  days  before  I  can  see  him.  Mv 
doctor  doesn't  approve  of  his  patients"  get- 
ting up  until  the  sixth  day." 

The  breakfast  wagon  came.  I  was  starved 
and  the  aroma  of  coffee  drifting  into  our  room 
smelled  delicious.  W  hen  I  got  my  tray  I  ate 
ravenously.  I  had  just  finished  the  soft- 
boiled  egg  w  hen  I  became  aw  are  of  someone 
approaching  the  doorway.  It  was  my  doctor 
and  I  was  eager  to  talk  to  him.  Before  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  say  a  word  he  noticed  the 
tray  and  said,  "Oh,  if  you  are  eating  I  will 
come  back  later."  I  didn't  want  him  to  leave 
and  wanted  to  tell  him  so,  but  he  left  before  I 
could  say  a  word.  I  was  disappointed  and 
didn't  enjoy  the  rest  of  the  meal. 

A  nurse  I  hadn't  seen  entered  the  room 
and  said  hello.  Dorothy  was  first  to  speak. 
'Aren't  you  the  nursery  nurse?"  she  asked. 

The  nurse  hesitated.  "I  am  going  off  duty 
now."  she  said,  and  I  implored: 

"Tell  me  about  my  baby.  I  haven't  even 

seen  him  yet."  (Continued  on  Page  90) 


First  of  a  revealing  new  series  on 


"When  a  couple  want  to  co-oper- 
ate in  working  for  the  success 
of  their  marriage,  the  Amer- 
ican Institute  of  Family  Rela- 
tions is  able  to  show  them  how 
to  do  this  satisfactorily  in  more 
than  80  per  cent  of  the  cases; 
and,  indeed,  is  often  able  to 
straighten  out  the  difficulties 
of  the  marriage  by  seeing  only 
one  partner.  Over  the  past  23 
years,  since  the  founding  of 
this  institute,  we  have  been 
I'aul  i'openoe         ^j^j^       j^^jp  20,000  people  to 

happily  adjusted  marriage.  We  strongly  advocate  pre- 
marital counseling  as  the  basis  for  insuring  happy 
marriage  without  crises  later  on.  The  institute  staff 
now  includes  37  counselors;  the  one  responsible  for 
this  case  was  Dr.  Fenna  B.  Simms." 

Paul  Popenoe,  Director 


Diaha  tells  Her  Side 

"I  haVe'^^Hiome,  no  children  and  no  peace," 
pretty  twenty-two-year-old  Diana  said  to  the 
calm-faced  marriage  counselor  at  the  American 
Institute  of  Family  Relations  in  explanation  of 
her  reasons  for  wanting  a  divorce.  "I  have  no 
husband  and  no  love  as  I  think  of  it,"  Diana 
said.  "Guy  never  kisses  me  except  when  I'm 
frantically  busy  at  some  household  task,  and 
then  his  kisses  are  rough  and  hurt  me.  For  six 
years  my  husband  has  made  love  to  me  as  a 
matter  of  routine,  like  taking  in  a  bottle  of 
milk — something  to  be  done  with  in  a  hurry. 
And  he  picks  the  time;  I  don't. 

"My  secretarial  job  is  as  hard  as  Guy's  job," 
Diana  continued  the  recital  of  grievances,  "but 
Guy  refuses  to  so  much  as  dry  a  dish.  He  throws 
his  newspaper  on  the  floor  for  me  to  pick  up, 
and  then  complains  our  apartment  looks  like  a 
pigsty.  When  dinner  is  five  minutes  late  he  flies 
into  a  fury,  but  he  won't  even  help  with  the  mar- 
keting. We  own  an  automobile  but  Guy  won't 
allow  me  to  drive  it.  When  we  drive  anywhere 
it's  where  he  wants  to  go. 

"My  savings  are  supposed  to  be  set  aside  so 
we  can  buy  a  house,"  Diana  said  bitterly,  "but 
my  savings  for  the  house  are  always  being  frit- 
tered away  on  his  car.  Guy  says  we're  too  young 
to  own  a  home,  and  I  wouldn't  know  how  to 
keep  it  anyway.  I  want  my  babies  while  I'm 
young,  but  my  husband  setms  determined  to 
postpone  having  a  family  until  he's  an  old  man 
hobbling  along  on  a  cane.  He  says  I'd  ma:ke  a 
rotten  mother.  Guy  criticizes  everything  about 
me,"  said  Diana.  "My  taste  in  clothes,  my  hairdo, 
even  my  Saturday  art  class — one  of  my  few 
pleasures.  Other  people — my  boss,  the  girls  and 


real-life  marriages 

SHE:  "I'm  a  prisoner,  on  trial  for  everything  I  do.  . .  . 
My  vanity  is  dead. .  .  .  He  never  compliments  me." 

HE:   "I  wanted  a  clean,  peaceful  place. . . . 
The  house  is  a  mess.  ...  I  never  please  her." 


young  men  I  work  with — find  things  to  admire 
about  me,  but  from  Guy  I  receive  only  nasty 
criticism.  Never  a  word  of  affection  or  praise. 

"I  knew  Guy  just  six  weeks  when  we  eloped," 
said  Diana  in  reply  to  a  question  about  the 
courtship  and  marriage.  "I  was  barely  sixteen 
and  had  just  begun  dating  and  dancing  and 
having  fun.  I  thought  marriage  would  be  won- 
derful. I  think  I  fell  in  love  with  Guy  because  he 
was  nineteen  and  seemed  like  an  older  man  to 
me,  and  so  gentle  and  kind.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  can  tell 
you  how  I  felt  about  him  then.  When  I  was  a 
little  girl,"  said  Diana,  "my  family  was  terribly 
poor,  but  one  place  we  lived,  just  a  shack  really, 
had  a  back  yard  and  a  big  tree  and  a  swing. 
There  were  nine  of  us  kids  and  it  was  always 
crowded  and  hard  t-o  be  alone,  but  often  at  night 
I  would  slip  out  of  bed  and  go  to  the  tree.  I 
would  swing  and  swing — higher  and  higher — 
to  see  if  I  could  touch  a  star  with  my  toe.  The 
night  I  married  Guy — this  may  sound  crazy  and 
corny,  but  it's  true — I  felt  as  though  I'd  touched 
the  star.  Something  in  me  wished  and  believed 
the  lovely,  peaceful  feeling  would  last  forever. 

"The  feeling  certainly  didn't  last,"  said  a  dis- 
illusioned Diana,  contemplating  six  years  of 
wretchedness.  "Even  our  honeymoon  was  awful. 
We  ran  off  to  Las  Vegas  in  a  car  Guy  borrowed 
from  a  friend,  and  the  car  broke  down  and  the 
repairs  took  all  his  money  and  all  mine  too.  I 
had  a  job,  of  course;  I've  always  worked.  When 
we  got  back  here  to  Los  Angeles,  with  only  ten 
cents  between  us,  we  had  to  go  and  stay  with 
Guy's  family.  His  mother  was  furious  over  the 
marriage — she  hated  to  lose  Guy's  earnings  and 
didn't  mind  saying  so— and  she  was  dreadful  to 
me.  His  father  wasn't  so  bad,  but  he  drinks  too 
much  and  doesn't  work  half  the  time  and  is  for- 
ever cadging  loans  from  Guy. 

"After  I  took  all  his  mother's  abuse  I  could 
stand,  we  moved  in  with  my  family.  Two  of  my 
sisters  doubled  up  with  my  little  brothers  so  we 
had  a  room  to  ourselves,  but  Guy  criticized  my 
whole  family  terribly. 

"Then  finally  we  took  our  own  apartment; 
in  six  years  we've  lived  in  seven  different 
places — the  landlady  asked  us  to  move  out  of  the 
last  one  because  we  quarreled  so  much — but 
none  of  our  places  have  been  a  home.  Guy  fights 
with  me  and  criticizes  all  the  time;  we  don't 
want  the  same  things;  we're  unsuited  to  each 
other  in  every  way.  My  back  isn't  strong,"  said 
Diana,  "and  sometimes  it  pains  so  much  I  can 


hardly  bear  it,  and  the  doctor  says  the  pain  is 
caused  by  worry  and  nerves.  Sometimes  I  cry 
for  hours;  I  have  horrible  nightmares  and  even 
cry  in  my  sleep.  I  know  my  worry  and  unhappi- 
ness  are  caused  by  my  marriage,  by  trying  so 
hard  to  please  Guy  and  always  and  forever  fail- 
ing. For  six  years  I've  felt  as  if  I  have  been  a 
failure  in  everything. 

"The  lawyer  I  went  to  for  the  divorce,"  said 
Diana  in  conclusion,  "suggested  I  come  to  you 
for  advice  and  that's  why  I'm  here.  What  I  want 
is  a  divorce,  and  a  new  life  and  a  new  start.  I'm 
young.  Surely  I'm  entitled  to  a  home  and  chil- 
dren and  a  husband  who  loves  me.  I  don't  see 
how  you  can  help  me  and  Guy  make  anything  of 
our  marriage,  but  if  you  can  I  suppose  I'm  will- 
ing to  try." 

Guy  Tells  His  Side 

"Sometimes  when  Diana  is  crying  for  herself  the 
way  she  does,"  said  twenty-five-year-old  Guy. 
telling  his  side  of  the  story  to  the  counselor  with 
whom  Diana  had  previously  spoken,  "I  thinl 
I'll  go  crazy.  I  almost  think  I'm  back  listening  to 
my  mother  crying  over  her  imaginary  aches  and 
ills  and  making  me  take  care  of  the  twins  and 
put  supper  on  the  stove,  while  she  lay  on  the  bed 
jawing  about  my  dad  being  no  good. 

"Maybe  Diana  told  you  about  the  pains  in  her 
back  that  the  doctor  says  is  nerves.  Diana  thinks 
her  back  and  her  nerves  are  all  my  fault  like 
everything  else  that  goes  wrong.  She's  just  like 
my  mother,  always  whining  and  complaining 
and  crying  for  sympathy  or  compliments. 

"My  wife  wears  tight  sweaters  and  skirts  to 
the  office,"  the  young  husband  said  bitterly, 
"and  then  comes  home  and  tells  me  how  cute 
her  boss  says  she  is.  Then  she  has  another  cry- 
ing spell  unless  I  tell  her  she's  beautiful  when 
her  boss — that  big  shot — has  already  said  it  all 
and  said  it  better,  as  she  doesrt't  hesitate  to  let 
me  know.  Like  the  art  class  she  goes  to  on 
Saturdays:  Diana  brings  home  her  paintings  I'm 
supposed  to  admire  while  I  listen  to  her  tell  how 
dumb  I  am  about  art.  I'm  just  a  mechanic,  and 
these  days  my  wife  is  too  high-toned  to  be  inter- 
ested in  machinery. 

"Maybe  she  should  have  married  a  big  shot 
like  her  boss,"  said  Guy,  "or  an  art  professor  or 
some  movie  star  like  Gable  who'd  hand  her  a  line 
of  mush  all  the  time.  She'd  probably  condescend 


I)  dress  u|)  and  priiii|)  for  (lahle  iIk;  way  she 
riinps  (or  tlu'  ollicc.  \  on  oiiglu  to  sec  wluil  she 
,(*ars  at  home  for  me!  Any  old  iliinf;  will  do. 

"I've  done  everylliing  on  earlli  |o  please  my 
fife,"  avowed  V,uy,  "l)ul  Diana  is  a  ^irl  there's 

0  pleasing.  We've  moved  seven  times  in  six 
ears  to  find  an  apartment  she  likes,  and  now 
he's  insisting  that  we  buy  a  house  we  ean'l 
IVord.  Sure  \\\  like  my  own  home  someday, 
nd  some  children,  loo,  but  what's  the  hurry, 
hy  eaii't  we  wail? 

"Diana  thinks  I'm  a  dope,"  said  Guy.  "Ac- 
jally  she's  the  one  who's  completely  childish, 
linking  of  nobody  except  herself.  Our  meals  are 
Iways  two  hours  late  and  then  the  food  isn't 

1  to  eat,  and  you  can  hardly  gel  in  our  kitchen 
ir  the  dirty  ilishes.  One  thing  1  always  wanted 
hen  I  married  was  a  clean,  peaceful  place  to  go 
hen  I  linished  my  day's  work;  the  kind  of  place 
ly  dad  never  had  with  my  mother.  Living  with 
'iana,  I  sure  haven't  got  it. 

"When  I  was  a  boy  and  would  think  about 
•tting  a  wife,"  said  Guy  in  reply  to  a  question. 
I  would  have  a  picture  of  my  ideal.  Somebody 
acile  and  pretty  and  sweet,  not  necessarily 
rainy  and  with  a  lot  of  ideas,  but  thinking  1  was 
'.K.,  and  keeping  a  nice  clean  home  and  looking 
ter  me  the  way  nobody  ever  had. 

"What  I  liked  about  Diana  at  first  was  she 
'cmed  that  way  to  me — shy  and  sweet  and 
ind  of  scared  and  not  know-it-all  like  most 
rls,"  Guy  recalled  from  the  courtship.  "You 
lould  have  heard  her  say  how  wonderful  I  was 
>  be  smart  about  mechanics.  Boy,  did  she 
lange  in  a  hurry! 

"She's  forever  nagging  to  drive  our  car,  and 
le  doesn't  know^  beans  how  to  treat  a  car.  She 
recked  the  car  I  borrowed  for  our  honeymoon 
id  ruined  our  trip,  so  we  had  to  go  to  my  home 
I  stay.  My  mother  kicked  up  one  of  her  rows, 
id  Diana  wouldn't -take  what  I'd  been  taking  all 
ly  life.  She'd  have  left  me  flat  right  on  our 
oneymoon,"  said  Guy,  still  wounded  and 
umiliated  after  six  years,  "unless  I'd  gone  to 
ay  with  her  family.  My  family  is  no  bargain, 
Lit  hers  is  worse.  Diana  and  I  haven't  had  a 
;aceful  day  since  we  married.  If  she  wants  to 
)  ahead  and  get  the  divorce,  it's  all  right  with 
le.  A  new  shake  might  be  better  for  both  of  us. 
m  good  and  sick  of  things  the  way  they  are. 
ut  if  you  can  help  change  things  and  improve 
iana,  I'll  try  and  do  my  part." 

fhe  Marriage 
Counselor  Prescribes 

Diana  and  Guy  got  off  to  a  wretched  start,"  said 
le  counselor  in  discussing  the  case.  "Both  were 
nready  for  marriage,  both  were  selfish  and  im- 
lature,  ignorant  of  themselves  and  of  each 


'Sometimes  when  Diana  is  crying  for  lierself  the  way  she  does,"  said  Guv.  "I  think  I'll  go  crazy!" 


other  and  of  the  differing  family  backgrounds 
and  experiences  which  had  shaped  their  person- 
aHties.  In  short,  they  knew  nothing  of  the 
meaning  of  marriage. 

"For  instance  their  sexual  relations  were  dis- 
appointing. Whv?  Diana  was  romantic;  chroni- 
cally resentful  marriage  didn't  provide  the  thrills 
and  fun  she'd  missed  in  her  teens.  On  the  other 
hand,  Guy  was  contemptuous  of  tender  love- 
making  in  marriage  as  'unmanly.'  Consultation 
disclosed  his  contempt  and  the  'roughness'  of 
which  Diana  complained  were  based  on  igno- 
rance of  the  nature  of  sex.  The  young  husband 
was  actually  unaware  that  sexual  satisfaction  for 
women  existed.  Several  good  books  on  the  sub- 
ject enlightened  him,  and  when  he  showed 
tenderness  and  consideration  for  Diana  the 
sexual  maladjustment  was  solved. 

"When  Diana  stopped  reporting  office  com- 
pliments at  home  and  bought  a  few  pretty  dresses 
for  home  use  exclusively,  she  soon  received  the 
compliments  and  praise  she  had  been  tactlessly 
demanding.  By  the  same  token,  Guy's  vanity  was 
soothed  by  the  extra  attention,  and  his  jealous 
belief  that  Diana  was  forever  comparing  him  dis- 


advanlageously  with  other  men  was  changed 
into  pride  that  he  had  a  beautiful  wife. 

"Diana  and  Guy  saved  their  marriage  not 
oidy  by  changing  and  adapting,  but  bv  applying 
thought  instead  of  emotions  to  their  problem. 
A  new  marriage  would  have  solved  nothing  for 
either,  since  their  basic  trouble  lav  in  them- 
selves. For  six  wasted  years  both  young  people 
honestly  believed  they  were  trying  to  please  and 
understand  each  other,  whereas  the  truth  was 
they  were  merely  indulging  in  harmf  ul  criticism. 
The  tw  o  adopted  a  new  scheme  of  living  in  w  hich 
mutual  criticism  was  eliminated  as  far  as 
humanly  possible.  Instead  of  criticizing  they 
endeavored  and  eventually  learned  to  under- 
stand themselves  and  each  other.  As  a  logical 
result  of  this  gradual  re-education,  thev  began 
to  give  each  other  the  loving  help  and  attention 
that  is  marriage. 

"Diana  s  poor  housekeeping  stemmed  from  a 
weak,  inefficient  mother  and  a  slovenly  girlhood 
home.  Similarly,  Guy  s  unrealistic  dream  of  per- 
fect meals  served  in  a  clean,  \sell-run  home,  w  ith 
himself  doing  nothing  to  assist,  represented  a 

rebellion  against  a  (Continued  on  Page  8::) 


\ 


TKR  DALE  COLLECTION 


POT  OF  GERANIUMS 

HENRI  MATISSE   (1  8  69—  ) 


For  nearly  four  centuries  European  painters 
accepted  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  dictum  that  "the 
first  requisite  of  painting  is  that  the  bodies 
which  it  represents  should  appear  in  relief." 
Fifty  years  ago  Henri  Matisse,  the  king  of  the 
Fames,  or  the  Wild  Beasts,  as  he  and  his  friends 


were  called,  challenged  this  doctrine.  He  pointed 
out  that  shading,  or  the  modeling  that  suggests 
volume,  and  perspective,  at  least  as  taught  in  the 
art  schools,  tend  to  weaken  the  effect  of  line, 
color  and  pattern.  Now  over  eighty,  he  has 
described  his  rebellion  against  the  teachers  of  his 


youth,  who  told  him  to  "copy  nature  stupidly." 
He  wished  "to  study  each  element  of  construc- 
tion separately:  drawing,  color  values,  com- 
position; to  explore  how  these  elements  could  be 
combined  into  a  synthesis  without  diminishing 
(Cinilinued  on  Page  112) 


By  WILLIAM  L.  LAURENCE 


— <iii</  litis  article  is  meant 
/<>  be  a  warning,  not  an  expose. 
The  anlihi<}li<-  <lrngs  are 
still  the  most  poiverftti  u-eapons 
in  the  arsenal  of  ntetlirine — iutleed, 
the  only  ones  against  many  of 
the  most  serious,  anti  formerly  fatal, 
bacterial  infections.  Emphasized  here  is 
lohat  medical  leaders  in  this  field  hare 
said  before.  As  Dr.  \f  allace  E.  Uerrell, 
of  the  Mayo  Clinic,  I  old  his 
felloic  physicians  at  a  meeting  of  the 
American  Therapeutic  Society  in  Chicago, 
"There  is  nothing  u-rong  tvith  the 
antibiotics — the  trouble  is 
icith  the  people  prescribing  //ifm." 
Or  as  Dr.  R.  L.  Gilman,  captain  in 
the  Navy  Medical  Corps,  has  stated 
in  the  Armed  Forces  Medical  Journal: 
"In  penicillin  we  do  not  have 
a  sovereign  remedy;  all  things  will  not 
yield  to  it:  it  has  failed  to 
substitute  for  the  thought  and 
drudgery  necessary  to  evaluate 
the  patient^s  complain  ts.^^  W.  L.  L. 


''A  biological  product  that  may  .kivc  a  life  tclicn  given  tin- 
first  lime  may  become  a  killer  tvhen  given  the  .second  time." 


DOCTORS  are  taking  a  hard  sfcoiul  look 
al  ihcaiitihiolics — ihose  lil'esaviiig  chem- 
icals produced  by  a  variety  of  living  organisms, 
particularly  certaiii  molds  found  in  the  soil. 
After  several  years  of  general  use  for  most  ^f 
the  antibiolics  (more  than  a  decade  for 
penicillin),  we  are  told  that  they  are  by  no 
means  the  completely  harmless  agents  nearly 
everybody  once  thought  they  were. 

In  the  use  of  the  major  antibiolics — peni- 
cillin, streptomycin,  aureomyein,  Chloro- 
mycetin and  terramycin— many  of  the  un- 
wanted results  are  due  to  "drug  allergy,"  the 
inability  of  certain  persons  to  lolerate  'certain 
drugs.  It  is  now  known  that  an  individual 
allergic  to  an  antibiotic  may  react  only  mildly 
to  a  first  course  of  treatment  but  suffer 
severely  when  he  takes  it  another  time. 
What's  more,  a  person  at  first  not  allergic  to 
an  antibiotic  may  become  so  and  suffer  a 
severe  shock,  which  on  occasion  may  be 
fatal,  when  the  drug  is  administered  a  second 
time  or  more. 

More  significant  still,  it  has  come  to  light 
that  the  intermittent  or  prolonged  use  of  the 
antibiotic  named  chloramphenicol,  better 
known  as  Chloromycetin,  may  be  associated 
with  serious  disorders  of  the  blood  that  have 
caused  death  in  nearly  a  hundred  cases.  In  a 
word,  it  is  beginning  to  appear  that  one  man's 
"w-onder  drug"  is  another  man's,  or  even  the 
same  man's,  poison.  Unless  proper  precau- 
tions are  taken,  it  may  even  kill  him. 


Are  proper  precautions  Ix-ing  laken?  If  not. 
why  not?  Dr.  .Samuel  Marlon,  an  auth(trit\ 
on  drug  allergy,  in  a  radio  talk  sponsored  by 
the  Medical  Society  of  the  County  of  New 
^  nrk,  pointed  out  recenti) :  VThe  antibiotic-; 
have  indeeil  [)roven  to  be  lifesaving  \>T(>- 
cedures  in  a  number  of  illnesses.  However, 
there  has  been  a  tendency  to  use  them  some- 
what too  readily  and  too  frecjuently  at  the 
first  sigii  of  a  fever  and  very  often  at  the  in- 
sistence of  (he  patient  or  the  patient  s  familv." 
One  reason,  then,  is  that  popular  demand 
sometimes  outweighs  professional  caution. 

Recentiv  while  staying  in  one  of  the  coun- 
trv's  leading  hotels  I  became  feverish  during 
the  night  and  called  for  the  house  physician. 
He  came,  and  after  the  briefest  of  examina- 
tions, before  I  was  fully  aware  of  what  he  was 
about  to  do.  gave  me  an  injection. 

"What  is  that?"  I  asked  him. 

"Penicillin.  "  he  said.  "Fix  you  right  up." 

I  asked  him  how  he  knew  that  I  had  not 
been  made  hypersensitive  to  the  substance 
bv  a  previous  injection,  or  whether  this  one 
injection  might  not  make  me  hypersensitive 
to  it.  "Sometime  in  the  future  when  I  really 
need  it,  I  might  not  be  able  to  take  it,  "  I 
pointed  out. 

"Nonsense,"  he  snorted.  "Just  get  some 
sleep  now  and  you'll  be  O.K."  He  bri^Kly 
closed  his  little  black  bag  and  departed. 

But  I  am  not  the  only  one  who  can  testify 

from  personal  (Continued  on  Page  110) 


4S 


I 


I  wanii  t  uniil  lir  liaij  n-ai  ln-.I  Nornrwhrrr  in  lowrr  (j,n- 
Mi  l  II.  III.  l.H.liiifi  itUitm  ihr  Mrrrill  I'arLway  in  thr  .lark  ml 
r.iiivi'riil.lr  l..Har.l  M.-rra  ami  f.iur  li..ur»  r«m<>v.-.|  fr..m 
Main.',  dial  Iuh  Hulx-.tiiM-iouH  [N-rniill.-.i  liirn  at  lanl  t.»  nijjli.  A 
loiij;,  virlually  i-ilII. 

"Ii<.y,"  ll.  iiry  Miniair  llaiui.  nian  -.aid  •..fiiv,  "li.iv."  II.- 
•*lio<.k  his  wa\y  .lark  hair  a  lilll.-.  ii..t.-.|  ^iih  «urpriM-  thai 
llif  .  ar  railio  wa«.  idavinf.'  -  .»ii»-  .if  ih.i^r  ri.li.-ul.»u».ly  louf?h 
.l.-l.  i  tiv.-s  vsaM^.  lliiif.'  iK-al.-n  upapiiii.  and  Al .  lirk.-.l  il  ..iTwiih- 
oul  n'f{n-l— an.l  l.  ain-.l  l»a<  k  .)ii  ih.-  |.-atli.  r  ».  al  r»  l.ix.  <llv  II.- 
woul.l  III-  in  Manhattan  in  an  hour  or  so.  Hoy. 

\iil  that  ih.-r.-  was  anylliinji  wroiij^  with  th.-  i|at.-  ol  M.iinc, 
II. •  hk.-.l  its  r.>i  kl)(.uiid  .-.niHt  (as  thry  ^^ay)  aii.l  il»  lighthount-H 
anil  the  d.-w  mi  i<.s  morning  grass  and  the  ice  on  its  litlln 
pond.<.  The  •.tat.-  nl  Maine  was  all  right. 

All  right  to  visit,"  hi-  said  Id  nolmdy  a.s  thf  f.-onvcrtihlr 
took  the  parkway's  curves  easily  and  cheerfully,  like  a  liappv 
ice-wagon  horse  galloping  liack  to  its  stable  at  night,  the  day's 
work  over.  "Vou  couldn't  gi-l  me  to  live  then-,  though."  So 
many  people  said  that  about  Al's  New  York  that  he  W/  to 
make  the  crack.  Even  to  nobod\. 

It  was  the  night  of  New  Year's  Day,  and  what  was  de- 
pressing Al  Hanrieman  so  was  that  he  had  spent  the  holiday 
week  end  at  a  reconstructed  farmhouse.  So  it  was  in  Maine. 
So  it  could  have  been  Pennsylvania  or  New  Hampshire.  The 
Blythes.  Fran  and  Mark,  had  rebuilt  this  farmhouse,  see?  You 
listened  to  Mark  tell  you  for  hours  on  end  exactiv  what  he  was 
going  to  do  with  the  miserable  little  barn  in  back,  and  you 
nodded  politely  while  another  transplanted  New  Yorker  from 
a  neighboring  reconstructed  farmhouse  explained  in  detail 
how  the  board  of  selectmen  was  going  to  take  action  on  some 
vitally  important  right  of  way.  You  sat  gingerly  in  a  rorker 
from  Benedict  Arnold's  day  and  at  dinner  you  tried  to  season 
your  fillet  w  ith  a  pepper  grinder  instead  of  a  cellar.  You  know 
the  rest,  in  the  books  you  have  read. 

At  thirty,  Al  Hanneman  was  a  professional  New  Yorker. 
He  wasn't  born  there,  naturally.  (Continued  on  Pazr  82i 


By  MEL  HEIMER 


Ih  k  tk 


Do  you  remember  Helen  FralcY — the  woman  tvho  lost  160  pounds 
and  reduced  her  dress  siz  from  a  voluminous  60  to  a  slim  14?  A  reducing  diet  helped 
her  emerge  from  what  she  calls  her  "mountain  of  fat"  to  become  a  slender,  attractive 
housewife  who  is  now  "sitting  on  top^of  the  world." 

Because  we  believe  her  heartening  example  and  friendly  sympathy 
will  encourage  many,  ive  asked  Mrs.  Fralcy  to  send  a  letter-a-month  to  iveight-conscious 
Journal  readers.  In  consultation  with  our  Beauty  Department  she  will  advise  on  success- 
ful reducing  routines  outlined  by  professional  experts,  combining  with  these  the  wisdom 
and  understanding  resulting  from  her  oivn  experience,  to  help  others  escape  the  heart- 
■  ^'^^"^  ""'^  /f//m/7(«/(on5  that  haunt  the  "fat  girl." 

In  response  to  the  hundreds  of  requests  she  has  already  received  for 
"More  menus,  please!",  the  series  begins  by  giving  three  weeks  of  Mrs.  Fralev's  tastiest, 
low-calorie,  low-cost  meals.  As  the  months  go  by,  individual  overweight  problems  will 
receive  personalized  attention  designed  to  give  each  basic  diet  program  the  boost  it 
needs  to  succeed!  — Dawn  Crowell  Norman 

Beauty  Editor  of  the  journal 


ONE  day  last  spring  the  Journal  received 
a  remarkable  letter.  Written  in  a  small, 
neat  hand,  the  words  sprang  from  their 
pages  to  tell  a  stirring  and  inspiring  tale  of 
one  woman's  faith  and  will  power  and 
almost  unbelievable  dietary  achievements. 
The  letter,  signed  "a  very  happy  ea-fat  lady, 
Helen  Fraley,"  told  how  this  lifelong  resi- 
dent of  a  little  town  in  Nebraska  reduced  her 
weight  from  a  hideous,  heartbreaking  295 
pounds  to  a  trim,  vital  135  pounds! 

Perhaps  you  read  Mrs.  Fraley's  letter  in 
last  August's  Journal  and  were  as  impressed 
as  we  were  by  her  before-and-after  pictures. 
Remember  the  one  of  Helen  which  she 
called  "Fatso  Fishing"?  Her  near-300-pound 
bulk  was  spread  generously  over  the  bank  of 
a  little  lake  and  a  huge  basket  lunch  (an 
appropriate  symbol  of  the  weakness  for  food 
which  haunted  her  through  life)  was  close 
by.  Other  pictures  helped  tell  Helen's  life- 
as-a-fat-girl  story.  One  revealed  her  as  a  ro- 
tund ten  year  old — "the  age  my  parents 
should  have  consulted  a  doctor  about  my 
weight."  Another  was  a  "dime-store  picture 
hubby  used  to  carry.  Look  at  the  arm — big 
as  most  girls'  legs.  Bet  he  never  showed  this 
to  the  fellows."  Still  another,  taken  in  1950 
and  displaying  her  52"  waistline,  was  cap- 
tioned, "Wow!  Look  at  the  neck  and  chest, 
not  to  mention  all  those  chins." 

The  smiling  pictures,  hke  the  outwardly 
cheerful  and  humorous  woman,  hid  from 
the  world  a  heart  that  yearned  for  a  little 
admiration  and  a  normal  way  of  life.  T 
never  really  had  a  childhood,"  Helen  re- 
calls. "By  the  time  I  was  thirteen  I  weighed 
200  pounds.  The  kids  made  so  much  fun  of 
me,  I  quit  school." 

While  other  girls  her  age  were  enjoying 
their  first  enchantment  of  popularity  and 


parties,  Helen,  alone  at  home,  continued  to 
feel  left  out.  As  she  said,  "What  fellow 
would  ask  to  wield  200  pounds  around  a 
dance  floor?"  Even  the  business  world 
spurned  Helen's  attempts  to  find  happiness. 
"I  was  too  fat  to  work.  My  appearance  and 
my  limited  education  kept  me  from  being  a 
desirable  employee."  What  did  she  do  while 
life  passed  her  by?  "I  went  on  feeling  lonely 
and  sorry  for  myself.  To  ease  the  pain,  I  ate." 

The  first  hope  for  Helen  arrived  in  the 
form  of  genial  Sam  Fraley,  who  "married 
me,  fat  as  1  was.  My  mail-order  wedding 
dress  was  a  size  60,  but  my  bridesmaids 
looked  pretty  and  we  had  a  nice  church  wed- 
ding." Still,  the  new  husband  and  home  were 
unable  to  divert  Helen  from  her  preoccupa- 
tion with  food.  Instead,  spurred  on  by  the 
knowledge  that  Sam  also  had  a  hearty  appe- 
tite ("he's  big,  but  not  fat"),  Helen  blindly 
continued  to  put  away  the  dozen  doughnuts, 
rich  desserts  and  calorie-packed  sandwiches 
that  supplemented  each  day's  meals  and 
helped  the  scales  climb  steadily. 

Helen  had  been  married  13  years  before 
she  met  her  real  "blessing  in  disguise."  .  .  . 
"One  Saturday  morning  in  August,  1950,  I 
squeezed  a  pimple  on  my  right  cheek.  A 
severe  infection  scared  me  into  seeing  my 
doctor.  He  gave  me  a  double  shot  of  peni- 
cillin and  told  me  to  be  back  at  9  a.m.  the 
following  Monday.  Well,  I  felt  mighty  low 
all  week  end,  even  wished  that  I  were  dead. 
Every  time  I  looked  in  the  mirror  I  hated 
myself.  Such  a  mess!  \l  was  that  week  end 
I  finally  made  up  my  mind  that  /  was  go- 
ing to  reduce. 

"My  doctor  helped  me.  His  charts  show 
that  in  exactly  one  year  I  lost  138  pounds. 
Altogether  I  lost  160  pounds  and  today 
my  weight  is  135;" 


47 


car  JoiiiiKil  Readers:  Atii  I  "a  real,  live 
(im""'.''  ir  so,  could  I  "arrange  to  be  seen 
I  away,  jiisl  for  proof"?  Wlu-n  llio  lole- 
iie  rang  al  6  a.m.  llic  day  alter  my  dii-l 
y  appeared  in  ihe  Jouhnai,,  1  was  startled 
ear  an  unfamiliar  voice  asking  me  this, 
sured  my  early-bird  caller  that  I  was 
1  Itdd  that  much  weight,  but  that  I 
it  was  a  litlli'  too  early  in  the  day  to  be 
.  (I  feel  cheerful  at  6  A.M.,  but  I'll  bet 
rrot  stick  not  many  women  feel  hos- 
ale  at  that  hour!) 

understand  other  people's  amazement 
ly  weight  loss.  When  I  thumb  through 
"Fat  Lady's  Scrapbook,"  the  one  in 
jh  I  keep  clippings  of  good  low-calorie 
us  and  recipes,  weekly  records  of  my 
iction  and  progressive  snapshots,  I  feel 
liough  I  am  renewing  an  acquaintance 
I  an  old  friend! 

he  mailman  has  delivered  hundreds  of 
■rs  to  our  little  home  and  my  darling 
by  and  I  have  been  devouring  them 
■y  day  for  our  luncheon  dessert!  No 
lies,  but  the  most  satisfying  thing  I've 
■  digested!  One  lady  sent  me  a  box  of 
•  sachet  puffs  because  I  had  given  up  so 
ly  sweets  she  thought  I  deserved  them  in 
ther  form. 

[y  youngest  "fellow  fatty"  is  a  thirteen- 
-old  girl  from  Tennessee.  ,She  weighs 
pounds  and  says,  "I  w^ant  to  weigh  135 
luse  I  just  know  mamma  would  then  buy 
a  whole  bunch  of  swell  new  clothes."  It 
le  young  ones  who  haven't  lived  that  I 
sorry  for.  We  just  grow  from  children 
women  and  have  no  girlhood  days, 
ch  should  be  the  happiest  of  our  lives, 
etters  have  arrived  from  women  of  all 
;,  topped  off  by  a  sprightly  sixty-nine- 
•-old  who  says,  "Have  tried  your  diet  for 
eek  and  already  feel  better  around  the 
stline!"  Some  have  only  five  or  ten 
nds  to  shed,  but  one  woman  weighs  394 
nds.  All  are  equally  sincere  about  want- 
to  lose  weight.  Here  and  now  I'll  say: 
shful  thinking  will  get  us  fatties  nowhere. 
have  to  make  up  our  minds  to  really  do 
lething  about  it.  Then  we  have  to  manu- 
ure  our  own  will-power  supply.  Our  good 
ipetent  doctors,  loving  husbands  and 
"velous  friends  and  neighbors  cannot 
ply  this  for  us. 

don't  want  to,  nor  could  I  possibly,  take 
ir  doctor's  place.  I  dieted  under  close 
Jical  supervision.  It  is  only  logical  that 
one  who  wants  to  lose  10  pounds  or 
re  should  consult      (Continued  on  Page  106) 


r 


I 

S 


Itrral.ft.st 


( „h„,.  . 

k  Oiltlill'lll  I  '4  <  ll|))     .  1(11 

SIviiii  milk  (  !  cup)  .  ,  .  II 
W  IkiIc-u  lll'lll   liuiHl   (1  mIIi-c, 

liulill>  liiilli'iril)  .  ..  100 
(^oflcc  or  tfa  (pluin).    .    .  . 

244 


.Slirctl  oruiigo  80 

Poaclu'cl  <■){((  on  wliolr-whnat 

loiiHt,  '  2  |)al  liutliT  .  .  170 
(^>ffec  or  lea  

250 


P<i(>I)('(l  wlieat  (J^  cup) 
Skim  milk  (J/$  cup)  .  . 

banana  (sliced) .  .  . 
Coffee  or  tea  


,S0 
44 
50 

144 


Yi  grapefruit  100 

Toast  (Isliee.lightlybuttered)  100 

Coffee  or  tea   

2(M) 


Orange  juice  (4-o7..  glass) . 

.  65 

Corn  flakes  ('^  cup)     .  . 

,  40 

Sl(im  milk  (}4cupJ  .    .  . 

.  44 

20 

169 

Poached  egg  on  1  slice  toast, 

ligtitly  buttered  170 

Coffee  or  tea   

170 


(Late) 

^  2  grapefruit  100 

Sweet  roll  200 

Coffee  or  tea   

300 


l-iiin'h 


in n  It  IT 


Mill   lollMllo  JUHT  <  I'lMJIIir  gluHM/.tO 

|li'\ili'd   egg    (mix    yiilk  willi 

diiHli  fif  MlllHlard  )  I'i 
TouKl  (I  nlirr.  liglill'  linllcrrd)  KKI 
2  peur  liulveH,  2  tltHpii.  jijirr  50 


Onion  soup  (I  cup)  .    .  H'li 
Pineapple  (I  Hliee)  and  rotlage 
clieese  ( !4  cup)  (iala<l    .  120 

Soda  erarkern  (2)  50 

Coffee  or  tea   

270 


Parsley  omelet  (2  eggs  in  1  tsp. 

butter)  175 

Vibole-wbeal    toast    (1  slice, 

ligbtly  buttered)  100 

Apricot  balves  (5  small)  and 

juice     ,    .    !  50 

Skim  milk  (8-oz.  glass)    .    .    .  R8 

in 


Tomato  soup  (1  cup)  .  . 
Oyster  crackers  ()^  cup)  . 
Pear  balves  (2)  with  juice 
Skim  milk  (8-oz.  glass) 


100 
.30 
50 
88 

268 


Vegetable  soup  (homemade* — 

large  bowl)  200 

Rye  wafers  (2)  60 

Gingersnaps  (2)  100 

Coffee  or  tea   

360 


Salad  plate  (4  pear  balves 
topped  with  cottage  cheese 
seasoned  with  salt,  pepper, 
pear  juice  and  chives)  .   .   .  200 

Rve  wafers  (2)  60 

Skim  milk  (S-oz.  glass)    ■  .   .  88 
348 


Chilled  fruit  cup  (J4  orange, 

Yl  iirapefruil — mixed)  .  .  140 
Roast  beef  (2  large  lean  servings)  250 
Potato — medium  (brow  ned  with 

roast)  100 

Green  string  beans  (H  cup)  30 
Celery    stuffed    with  cottage 

cheese  (3  stalks)  75 

Angel  cake  (1  slice)  100 

Coffee  or  tea   

695 


IliiMlril  <  iil>r  -li'lik  '  1  pirtf-/ 

1  .0 

liriiilrd  iiiiMai<M-<i  <2  iiniall) 

10 

Mrdiiiin  briilrd  polalo 

IIXI 

l-fllucc        brad)  no-f-aloric 

7  iiiiil 

drr»»««inK*  ... 

20 

1'  roil  OM'klail  (  Yi  cup) 

I'll  litru'h 

20 

fur 

<  nfTrc  or  irij  ^pldin  1  ... 

405 

liroiird  beef  liver  (1  (lice)    .  , 

ISO 

Mixed  Halail — Irtlucc,  Kre'rD 

pepper,  grated  carrot  and  no- 

Uf 

calorie  drcHKing*     .  . 

lirun  iiMifliii  

\m 

iiu>.|ilicrr>  gelatin  (whipix-d. 

1  itiiii 

_  I  i  cup;  

100 

Coffee  or  tea  .  . 

390 

Jtir  iltiy 

Evening  Snack 

100 

lOlO 

Yl  broiled  chicken  

KM) 

Browned  [Milato  (medium) 

100 

Carrots  (2  small,  browned) 

30 

(.loleslaw  with  "diet  dressing"" 

(large  serving)  

30 

Tntnl 

Vanilla  custard  (\i  cup)  .   .  ■ 

130 

390 

enlorifx 

"Boiled  Dinner" 
Pork  hock  (small)  ^ 
^  bite  potato         (  boiled 
Carrots  (2)  ftogetber 
Cabbage  ( J-^  cup)  J 
Lime  sherbet  (1  small  scoop) 
Coffee  or  tea  


100 
100 
30 
40 
100 

Evening  Snack  ^ '  ^ 

Banana  100 


Baked  salmon  (2  slices)  with 

1  large  grated  onion  .... 
Boiled  cauliflower  {%  cup)  .  . 
Green  beans  (J^cup)  .  .  .  . 
Fruit-flavored  gelatin  (J^  cup) 


240 
30 
30 

100 

400 


Tomato  juice  (4-oz.  glass)   .   .  30 
Broiled  chopped  steak.  1  me- 
dium patty  150 

Peas  ( J 4  cup)  65 

Potato  (steamed,  then  browned 

in  broiler)  100 

Lettuce-and-tomato  salad,  no- 
calorie  dressing*  30 

Vanilla  pudding         cup)   .    .  130 

Coffee  or  tea   

505 

Evening  Snack 
Apple,  or  any  fresh  fruit  of 

comparable  calories ....  100 


for  tiny 
947 


To  la  I 
calorii's 
Jar  flay 

9.38 


Total 

calories 
for  (lav 

929 


Total 

calorie.') 
for  tla\ 

1023 


Total 
calories 
for  day 

1095 


*Recipes  on  Page  10" 


When  college-girl  members  of  the  New  Yorkers'  Charity 
League  needed  help,  Fanny  gave  it.  She  showed  the  girls 
some  steps  for  their  production,  A  Night  in  Montmartre. 


Fanny's  first  movie,  My  Man  (Warner  Bros.),  was  also  one 
of  the  first  talkies.  It  capitalized  on  her  private  life,  was 
the  first  time  she  had  sung  My  Man  since  divorcing  Nick. 


When  Fanny  was  married  to  third  husband 
Billy  Rose  by  New  York's  late  mayor  Jimmy 
Walker,  she  wondered  what  it  would  do  to  Nicky. 


*I  wvnt  atti*r  sonn'thintf  I  rvtiUy  lihln'l  iranf,^* 

S0iul  Fanny  oi  hvr  divoree  from  Nieli,  '"and  f/ot  it.' 


By  NOil3IAX  KATKOV 


Fanny,  with  party  giver  Elsa  Maxwell,  was 
quite  a  hostess  herself.  She  wanted  to  en- 
tertain more  than  anybody  in  New  York. 


Fanny  and  noted  actress  Constance  Collier 
had  a  late  chat  at  a  night  club  as  they 
celebrated  the  opt-ning  of  the  1935  Follies. 


Fanny  with  actress  friends  Beatrice  Lillie 
(left)  and  Ilka  Chase  (right).  She  made 
lasting  friendships  everywhere  she  went. 


Fanny  Bricc,  a  Broadway  star  at  eighteen  who  went  on  to 
icin  the  hearts  of  millions  in  Ziegfeld  Follies,  in  the  movies 
and  on  the  radio  as  Baby  Snooks,  rose  from  singing  in  back 
yards  of  Brooklyn  neighbors.  Brilliance,  hard  work  and  her 
singing  voice  soon  thrust  her  into  the  spotlight.  At  the  peak 
of  her  success,  she  fell  in  love  with  gambler  and  confidence 
man  Nick  Arnstein.  They  married  and  had  two  children, 
Frances  and  Bill.  Although  Nick  often  was  away  from  home 
on  his  own  affairs,  Fanny  still  loved  her  man  and  was  de- 
termined to  wait  for  him. 

Ill  THOSE  months  when  Nick  was  in  Leavenworth,  when, 
as  Fanny  told  Will  Rogers,  "I'm  happy  because  I  know 
where  he's  spending  his  nights,"  she  was  as  much  in 
love  as  she  had  ever  been.  She  signed  to  star  in  The 
Music  Box  Revue  for  the  1924^25  season. 

For  a  time  Fanny  was  at  ease  in  her  heart.  With 
Nick's  nights  accountable,  she  spent  more  and  more 
time  with  her  children.  When  Frances  wrote  a  poem: 

The  corn  is  shaking. 

Because  the  chickens  are  leaking, 

Fanny  displayed  it  as  proudly  as  though  it  were  the 
libretto  for  a  new  musical  in  which  she  was  to  star. 
Young  Frances  later  told  a  sob  sister,  "My  name  is 
Frances,  but  I  want  to  be  called  Fanny,  because  it  is 
my  mother's  name  and  my  mother  is  a  great  actress. 
I  don't  want  to  be  an  actress.   I  want  to  be  an 

opera  singer.  (Continued  on  Page  123) 

Copyright.  1952.  by  Frances  Stark  and  William  Brice 

Editorial  comments  and  captions  in  all  installments  were  prepared  and  written  by  the  editors. 


50 


For  a  lucky  girl  who  sews... 

This  Two-way  Dress 

a  whole  costume  ||3J*  ^^^^ 


THE  neatest  suit,  the  prettiest  dinner  dress  .  .  .  prac- 
tically a  tchole  wardrobe  from  one  pattern.  The  fabric  is 
an  acetate-and-rayon  ottoman-type  faille  you  can  buy  for 
about  $1.00  to  $1.50  a  yard.  The  suit  goes  anywhere.  The 
dress  is  becoming,  basic  and  versatile.  Both  lend  them- 
selves to  inexpensive  changes.  For  the  suit  a  plaid  wool 
sleeved  stole,  a  red  jersey  circlet  with  fringe.  For  the  dress, 
a  bright  velveteen  shrug  jacket,  or  a  brilliant  felt  apron. 

By  Nora  OT.eary 

Pattern  Editor  of  the  Journal 


rS  A  SWr— dress  with 
Hatching  jacket  gives  the 
llusion  of  a  suit.  The  fit-  ^ 
ed  jacket  is  lined  . . .  Vogue 
)esign  No.  S-4339,  12  to  20. 


THIS  IS  WHAT 
IT  COST  US: 

5  yards  ottoman- type  faille 

@  $1.19  a  yard  ....  $5.9.5 
IJg  yards  ravon  taffeta 

lining  @  59c  89 

Pattern   1.00 

Slide  fastener  25 

Seam  tape  10 

Thread  10 

Button  molds  25 

Total  $8.54 

See  Page  119  for  Back  Views. 


Buy  Vfi|t;ue  Patterns  at  tli<* 
8tf>rc*  whi<'h  »«ells  them  in 
your  city.  Or  or<ier  l>y  mail, 
enclfising:  eheek  or  innney 
order,*  from  Vofiiie  Pat- 
tern S<*rvi<'e,  Putnam  Ave., 
Oreenwieh,  Conn.;  <»r  in 
Canada  from  198  Spaflina 
Ave.,  Ti»ronto,  Ont.  Some 
pric'es  slightly  hij;;her«in 
Canada.  .(*Conn.  resi<lenl» 
please  aou  sales  tax.) 


IT  LENDS  ITSELF  TO  CHANGE 


$1.00 

Makes  a  velveteen  bolero 
to  wear  day  or  night, 
with  push-up  sleeves. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7912. 


•SS.OO 

For  a  gay  hostess  apron 
from  one  vard  of  36-inch 
feh.  Artificial  flowers 
anil  sparkles  on  pocket. 


$t.00 

For  a  bright  circlet  c 
red  jersey  edged  wit 
hiack  wool  fringe.  We£ 
inanv  ways.  No.  791( 


.$5.00 

Makes  a  sleeved  stole  de- 
signed to  stay  in  place. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7912. 


Itiiiiitiiafiiiif.'  in  ilic  |>anlr>  lli<-  oilier  i  \ .  iiini., 
I  coiifiialiilalcd  my  La(l\  l,(»\(  <>ii  the  nilinai  \ 
and  f;aHtr<»ii<>iiiic  dn-aiiiH  witli  uliicli  licr  fuvor- 
ilc  (•<M>klKM)k  in  HliifTcd:  It  <  <uiiaiiiH  at  IcaMi  r>(H) 
l  afifjeii  iccipcH  fit  for  an  I '.Hcofii-r  mIm  'h  lorn  Troni 
inafja/incs  and  ncu H|.a|M  i h,  wiili  tin-  avowrd 
lull  iMdiillill<-<l  inlrnlion  of  rookin"  |o  di-- 
li;i;lil  inc.  Luckily,  I  still  like  liaHli. 

/  iviali  KT  anihl  prrscrvf  und  put  tifi  this  CJirisl- 
iiKis  spirit  ill  oiic-jidiiikI  tin  ho.vr.s  like  holiday  fruit. 
aikt\  and  open  a  box  of  it  every  profane  inontli 
all  year  long.  ( And  I  wish  we  roiild  frire  those 
Moscow  go-getters  a  taste  of  it.) 

Tiie  minute  Junior -^(il  lionic  (Voni  c(.llc^<'  lor 
tlic  holidays  he  asked  me  wliicli  <^ii  \  in  our  iici^li- 
borliood  it  was  who-s  prettier  in  my  opinion  than 
Miss  America.  When  I  told  him  the  names  of 
three  of  'em,  he  retorted  scornfully,  "Shucks,  [ 
knew  them  before  they  got  their  teeth  straight- 
ened!" 

Some  of  the  men  at  the  big  round  table  at  the 
club  are  old-fashioned :  They  ihirtk  that  if  a  f>irl 
aeeepts  a  mink  coat  from  a  man  she's  slifiliilv 
obligated.  (Even  if  he's  only  her  husband.)  .  .  . 
But  does  a  i>irl  who  lets  <i  man  buy  her  a  $.3  steak 
e.vpect  to  be  kissed,  or  not? 

Recently  on  a  visit  to  New  York  I  took  rtiy 
Dream  (iirl  to  see  the  United  Nations  hideout. 
(She  wants  to  redo  her  bedroom  more  like  those 
three  big  meeting  rooms  decorated  by  the  three 
Scandinavian  countries.)  ...  I  argue  every  yel- 
low school  bus  in  the  country  should  carry  two 
or  three  loads  of  pupils,  teachers  and  parents 
every  summer  vacation  to  see  the  UN! 

A  few  of  the  more  cvnical  stores.  I  notice,  are 
selling  fake  Tl  antennas,  intended  to  deceive 
your  highfalutin  neighbors  into  thinking  You've 
got  a  Tl  set  loo.  . . .  But  I  observe  that  some  of  mv 
highbrow  and  upper-middlebrow  friends  like  to 
brag  they  don't  have  Tl  ,  even  if  they  do. 

"A  room  without  any  books  in  it,"  asserts  Peter 
Comfort  dogmatically,  tossing  rock  salt  on  his 
icy  driveway,  "is  positively  uncivilized!"  (Under 
provocative  pressure  from  his  wife,  he  muttered 
yes,  he  means  a  bathroom  too.) 

Our  neighborhood  hardware  man  tells  us  that 
a  wife  should  have  her  own  pliers,  hammer  and 
screw  driver,  and  leave  her  husband's  alone. . . . 
Myself,  I'm  neutral  any  more,  since  I  know 
now  I  can  always  find  my  tools  either  in  our 
youngest's  underwear  drawer  or  in  the  com- 
partment where  my  wife  keeps  the  silver. 

• 

My  ardent  search  for  a  modern  rocking  chair 
almost  reached  pay  dirt  when  I  spotted  an  awe- 
some rocker  in  a  57th  Street  window.  It  rocks  on 
solid  wrought-iron  curves  and  its  body  seems 
blond  and  stuffed  with  foam  rubber.  What  a 
brave-new-world  blend  of  the  nineteenth  and 
twentieth  centuries!  Then  I  heard  a  rumor  that 
it  costs  $135  or  $235. 


/  nmiine  the  mtirnoffr  v/«m  «/  collrffe  iirr 
roaehiiiff  the  cwd^  im  the  moot  iiue\iiim  n/  roinamr- 
a-la-l'JH:  If  a  f(irl  won  a  /«;>  iihih^ouiwd  m  hint- 
jeans,  ran  the  keep  hi>  tore  i/  she  remainx  ,  lo.l 
in  lli/elv  blue  jnins  at  diniii  rf' 

Somr  of  oiii  ujilouii  [im  iidx  look  ii»  lo  lir.ir 
lldith  I'laf  Hiiic,  alter  ue'il  pla\<  d  lier  phono, 
grajih  records  lor  yum.  .  .  .  Our  \erdie|;  s|„. 
doeMii'l  tear  your  liearl  iiilo  hh.  h  il,,,,  |,|||,. 
MiripH  Mince  her  riirxen  ^jol  ho  o|>uI<  mI. 


If  our  skating  pond  (which  always  reminds  me 
of  a  Breughel  painting)  freezes  early  enough,  I'll 
teach  our  youngest  to  skate  in  time  for  our  New 
Year's  Day  wienie  roast.  (If  I  can  stay  erect  long 
enough,  that  is!)       ^  ^ 

'Tain't  true  that  a  man  never  Imrns  anything 
after  he's  twenty  or  thirty  years  old:  .lust  last 
week  a  friend  told  me  (in  a  burst  of  confidence) 
that  he  shaves  his  prominent  chin  first,  while  his 
blade  is  still  sharp.  I  always  shaved  my  right 
cheekbone  first,  but  I  tried  out  his  scheme  and  il 
works  like  magic. 


I 'lie  ihiii^  llif  Kirl  of  my  <lrraiii»  and  I  don't 
luj^iie  uImiuI:  fiiur  iane  loll  rooiU.  Wr  Uiih  likr 
Vim.  .  .  .  She  r\ril  ihiiikk  woinrii  oukIh  I"  f-'»trr 
llinr  Kluir  lef;ii.lal<irx  lo  \>ff^n  In  Ifuild  iiHirc  of 
em.  (And  I  ilnnL  He  oiikIiI  to  »*-\\  tutnw  of  our 
tmrniM  old  "corn  reir  roH|Nttliii"  lo  ihr  irurk 
line*  lo  iiM-  at  oiie-wa>  frrjghl  r<Mtil».) 

• 

lie  A/lie  ////»  <//  ii/ii/i    11.    ,1  If  lltr  blft 

Inun."  •,n\%  ltiit\  (tmilnrl.  iiinnin^ily  plimnft 
'Xl-ienl  a. pound  olinL  Im  Im  ihi-  utnhi  biidi  "I 
eiip,\  the  II  indoli  .shiippiiin  hImik-  nil.  lihllr  I'tlt-t 
pifi\  W<\/\  al  the  fin     iif  the  bin-lmi  n  ImiIii'%." 

I  lohl  m\  dream  niil  ihnl  )  mi  Itilmi^  In  Me  ho% 
the  prettiest  nurds  of  the  year' n  popular  s/mf(^,  uhal 
uilh  its  Mli  er  plane  m  er  the  inran,  ami  its  jiin/ilr 
wet  with  rain.  " .■ind  which  girl  dues  ii  remind  you 
ofy"  slie  askcil  siispidoudy, 

"You.  my  darling!"  ijiioth  I. 

Our  lN\e|\e.\eur-old  ha-  iiilirril.il  iii\  old- 
time  bachelor  foiidneHn  for  eating  in  a  cafeteria 
(  buffet  Hi  \  lej:  he  liken  to  nee  il  lir*l.  .  .  .  Kill  lie 
and  I  iioH  have  a  definite  undi-rHlandiii^:  IIik 
dinner  clier'k  liii|H|irt  be  over  .'lO  een|.  iiiore'ii 
mine  or  he  goen  witlioiil  denHert. 

\\  hen  I  heard  that  the  new  movie  lechniipie 
called  (iinerama  "plunger  vou  into  a  ntarlling 
new  worlil"  I  told  my  wife  that  I  hadn  t  realized 
how  much  ir  would  mean  to  see  Betlj  Grable's 
knees  in  three  dimensionn. 

M\  pluinpi.-h  friend  neM  door  <'oiilideH  that 
a  modern  wife  (pialilies  as  an  expert  diet  and 
menu  manipulator  if  she  can  bring  in  .*.'{0  worth 
of  groceries  without  including  a  single  item  that 
makes  her  husband's  eves  li^hl  iij)  ulien  In- 
raids  the  icebox. 

■  • 

Alas,  even  after  election  day  I  still  can't  ex- 
plain to  mv  twelve-year-old  how  the  same  wicked 
men  who  were  unwisely  shooting  al  cmiimunists  in 
Korea  could  be  villainously  stiijjing  dovernmenl 
offices  with  em  in  IT  ashington. 

Latelv  fashion  has  loosed  so  manv  red  coats 
on  American  streets  that  some  of  \\  ashington"s 
older  cliff  dw  ellers  are  reminded  of  the  time  the 
invading  British  burned  the  \^  bite  House. 
Don't  shoot,  though:  there  are  women  inside 
those  coats:  hold  your  fire,  even  if  thev're  more 
dangerous  than  red-coated  ronnnies. 

At  moments  I  feel  husbandly,  inhibited  and 
shackled,  but  .  .  . 

When  my  daughter  makes  better  bean  soup 
than  the  U.  S.  Senate  restaurant's  .  .  . 

Or  Junior  carries  my  favorite  books  off  to  col- 
lege or  up  to  his  attic  den  .  .  . 

And  our  youngest  uses  a  five-syllable,  75-cent 
word  I  liaven't  used  since  I  was  thirteen  .  .  . 

Or  my  wife  tells  me  she  wouldn't  swap  me  for 
Henry  Fonda  and  a  left-handed  shortstop  .  .  . 

Then  I  blossom  out,  and  make  a  noise  very 
unlike  a  bachelor,  and  postpone  my  next  voyage 
across  the  ocean  (in  a  silver  plane)  indefinitely. 


The  straight  box-jacket  suit  in  a  beige  striped  flannel  with  straw-cloth  cuffs  goes  straight  into 
spring.  By  Alvin  Handmacher.  Worn  with  chamois  gloves,  gold  bracelets,  and  a  basket-straw  hat. 

Linen  dress  with  ribbon-trimmed  cashmere  sweater  by  Clare  Potter,  linen  pumps  by  Ben  Sommers. 


Wlu'lluT  yoirrc  looknii;  iliKiiiiili  simi^lasscs  lor 
a  |)r(>vi(MV  of  siiriiincr  or  a(  liiall\  miisiii^'  soiilli,  voiril 
1  heavenly  colors  atid  hrillianlly  ailaplalilc  dollies. 

Take  a  sky-hluc  Iwccd  coal  and  |)ii|  ii  o\ cr  silk-,, 
•otions,  wools.  Board  any  slii[(,  plane  or  train  in  a  sand-l)ci"c 
wool  snit,  or  \v(\ir  il  in  llic  cil\  iti  llic  sprini,'. 

Discover  a  new  world  of  (lrcss-and-sw(\iier  ideas- 
linen  or  printed  silk  with  cashmere,  printed  cotton 
b  zephyr  wool.  Coral  is  a  color  to  wear 

with  white— in  a  linen  jacket,  kidskin  pumps, 
cotton  gloves.  Pique  sun  dresses  in  pink  or  golden  yellow 
are  important  enough  for  afternoon  parties. 
The  sheath  in  jersey,  silk  or  linen 

is  the  fashion  for  sashes  and  scarves, 
e-top  dresses  add  a  jacket  or  a  stole.    By  Wilhela  Cushman 

Fashion  Editor  of  the  Journal 


three-piece  separates :  Black  linen  skirt,  Sanforized  terra- 
i  cotton  camisole  and  cotton  bolero  by  Lotte.  Straw  Breton. 


blue  tweed  coat,  cruise  or  summer  fashion,  by  Thomas  Ruggiero. 


Look  ahead  to  Summ  er 


TAKE- ALONG  accessories:  ribbon  headbands  in  half  a  dozen  colors  .  .  . 

jersey  hoods  or  turbans  .  .  .  capeskin  gloves  in  pale  shades,  fashion 
for  silks  as  well  as  wools  .  .  .  coral,  turquoise  and  white  beads  to  double 
for  bracelets  or  necklaces.  Travel-light  shoe  idea — pale  beige  calfskin  pumps 

go  with  almost  everything — travel  suit  to  afternoon  print. 


The  fashion  of  yellow  and  orange,  a  two-piece 
poplin,  worn  with  flat  sandals,  cotton  handkerchief. 


WILHELA  CUSHMAN 


Jeweled  linen  bolero  dress  by 
Joset  Walker,  kidskin  sandals. 


Multicolor  dragon-print  silk  with  prinl-trunincd  cashmere  sweater,  a  fashion  adaptable  to  many 
seasons,  by  Clare  Potter.  Worn  with  gold-and-turquoise  bangles,  and  colored  chiffon  scarves. 

Sunshine  yellow  matelasse  pique  for  January  or  June,  by  Carolyn  Schnurer. 


LEOMBRUNO  •  BODI 


le  linen  sheath  in  pastel  stripes  with  a  die-straight  jacket  in 
iral  hnen,  by  Clare  Potter,  worn  with  white  capeskin  gloves. 


I  \\(I-I()I1C  lldllcd  I'dlliiil    -lul  l  .llirl 

riillori  -kirl  Willi  i-hi-lni/.-d  |m-Ii. 


Saiilori/.i"(i  |)ii|ij«'  ixdiiifj  \s  ii  li 
pink  hraifl,  hv  IsuIm-I  Dfihson. 


Dream  ot  a  summer  dress — tashion  of  matelasse  pique  in  bare-back,  bell- 
skirt  dress  for  outdoor  luncheon  or  afternoons,  by  Carolyn  Schnurer. 

Calico  fashion  for  bathing  suits,  bloomer  style.  Sun  hat  by  Mr.  Alf. 


NORTH 
OR 

SOUTH 


1 


Under  fur  coats  now,  without  a  coat  in 
the  spring,  for  January  vacations  or 
<*ool  iii<;hts  ill  .lun<'  —  these  coh>rful 
jerseys  are  a  present  and  future  fash- 
ion. Mid<Iv  silliouelle,  s<'arf  dress, 
jacket  dress  and  hasic  —  their  colors 
are  lovt'ly  with  hiaeiv,  brown  and 
bhiiid  furs  or  with  coats  in  country  i 


and  city  tweeds.     By  Wilhfxa  Cusiiman 

Fashion  Editor  of  the  Journal 


1 


f 


Scarlet  wool-jersey 
sheath  with  straight 
cardigan  by  Pat  War- 
ren, with  Hattie  Car- 
negie's two-tone  jersey 
turban,  soft  beige  pig- 
skin gloves  and  pumps, 
and  calfskin  travel  bag. 


WILHKLA  CIJSHMAN 


by 

Ve 
fal 


Blut;  jersey  with  a 
fringed  scarf  by  Janice 
Milan.  Pull  the  scarf 
through  your  belt  or 
drape  it  aro'ind  your 
shoulders.  A  lovely 
dress  to  own  —  also  in 
pastel  mauve-pink, 
beige,  gohl  or  white. 


■  i  / 


'rwo-pi<'<'<'  t>ii<ld\  ^illi(Mi(-t  t<-  in  lila<-  j«'rsey 
by  Haleiu  iaf.';! ;  blond  ol  l<  r  <  oal.  Maximilian. 

Year-round  jersey,  tweed  coat  by  Italbo, 
calfskin  bell,  eonluroy  bag  by  l{«-n  King. 


J 


t 


58 


i 


ivel7  ctnd 


ivaPie 


By  GLADYS  TAKER 


IV  J0\^  ADAVS  many  young  couples  marry  whether  they  have  a 
J.  1  plai  e  to  liang  a  frying  pan  or  not.  Something  w  ill  turn  up,  they 
gay — and  it  does.  Even  a  garage  can  be  a  home!  Such  a  home  was 
made  from  an  old  stanch  carriage  house.  The  young  couple  both 
work  in  nearby  Philadelphia  and  want  ease  and  efficiency. 

The  Journal  solved  the  problem  of  a  complete  workable 
kitchen  in  the  little  house.  A  totally  separate  kitchen  would  have 
made  the  apartment  seem  smaller  and  isolated  the  cook  from  fam- 
ily and  friends.  On  the  other  hand,  a  kitchen  merely  part  of  the 
living  room  would  detract  from  the  charm  of  both  rooms.  The 
answer  was  a  storage  wall  built  between  the  kitchen  and  living 


room,  with  open  shelves,  a  pass-through  counter,  and  gay  shut- 
ters that  can  be  open  or  closed.  In  the  8'3"  xl3'  kitchen  every  inch 
is  put  to  use.  A  typical  space-saver  is  the  gas  range,  small-sized 
but  a  honey,  with  full  oven  and  four  burners;  having  once  cooked 
on  a  three-burner,  I  do  appreciate  what  that  fourth  one  means. 
Using  the  small  range  left  space  for  an  automatic  washer.  Across 
the  storage  wall  is  the  dining  center,  with  round  table  and  four 
comfortably  cushioned  ice-cream-parlor  chairs. 

So  .  .  .  take  an  old  carriage  house  where  satiny  horses  once 
stamped  softly,  add  imagination,  season  with  feeling — you  have  a 
livable  home  that  will  be  fun  for  its  owners  and  gay  for  guests! 


Locating  clothes  washer  on  sink  wall  saves  in 
plumbing;  c/ibinct  above  holds  laundry  sup- 
plies. Bright  note  is  cherry-red  radio  clock  with 
open  countenance;  easy  to  read  from  a  distance. 


Dining  center  provides  comfortable  sit-down 
for  four.  Pass-through  to  kitchen  makes  serving 
easy,  cleanup  fast.  Shutters  close  to  hide 
clutter  after  meals.  A  Victorian  walnut  chest 
ivith  marble  top  is  buffet  and  server.  Wheeled 
table  ( a  wedding  gift  any  bride  ivould  cherish ) 
plugs  into  electric  outlet  to  keep  dinner  ivarm. 
Colors  are  harmonized  in  living  room  and 
kitchen  to  add  sense  of  space.  On  the  floor,  dark 
blue  plastic  tile  is  continued  in  the  gray-and- 
blue  gingham  plaid  in  the  kitchen.  The  blue 
of  the  shutters  is  matched  on  three  walls  of 
the  kitchen.  The  gray  of  the  living-room  wall 
is  echoed  on  the  end  wall  of  the  kitchen. 


Smooth,  (ontinuous  icork  siiiJikc  tit  ^in\  Ititcit-neuve  plastic  nidkcs 
small  kitchen  spacious,  adds  norkahilily.  Corner  cabinets  ivith  turn- 
around shelves  make  good  use  of  hard-to-reach  space.  China  and  glass 
on  storage-nail  shelves  are  reachable  from  dining  side  or  kitchen.  Steel 


cabinets  hold  everything  from  sugar  and  spice  to  ivedding  goblets. 
Faucet-type  dishicasher  is  also  a  nice  space-saver;  uith  hand  control 
user  can  choose  clear  or  sudsy  irater  through  the  spray.  For  a  gay  note, 
cafe-type  curtains  are  made  of  economical  striped  dish  toiveling. 


scale  in  feet 


0     12    3     4  5 


10 


ventilator 


Closet    I  HALL  '  ''  BEDROOM 

Storage  tvall  with  folding  shutters  divides  kitchen  area  from  dining  room. 


Handy  work  desk  is  lucked  in  corner,  with  menu  files  above.  Movable 
stool  and  wastebasket  ft  under  counter.  Space-saving'  refrigerator 
has  full-height  cold  compartment.  Cupboard  beyond  holds  cleaning  aids. 


4.  V 


61 


> 


A LOT  of  stories  have  been  written  about  the 
-  age  of  seventeen,  one  of  them  a  classic.  It's 
an  age  to  write  about.  To  a  girl,  it's  the  begin- 
ning of  things.  It's  excitement,  promise.  To  a 
boy  it  can  be  a  kind  of  literal  no  man's  land,  a 
land  that  exists  somewhere  between  boyhood 
and  manhood,  in  which  he  is  lost.  Sometimes  it 
seems  the  end  when  there  has  been  no  begin- 
ning. .  .  .  Here's  another  story  for  the  book. 

Stu  Simms  was  seventeen  in  May,  and  the 
following  September  he  entered  his  senior  year 
in  high  school.  He  was  head  yell  leader,  he  was 
in  Dramatics  Club,  he  had  a  job.  The  job  was  a 
good  one.  He  could  work  as  many  hours  as  he 
wanted,  or  as  few.  It  paid  well.  It  allowed  him 
so  many  cashmere  sweaters  that  he  didn't  have 
-  to  wear  the  same  one  twice  in  a  week.  It 
provided  him  with  a  car,  one  that  occa- 
sionally wouldn't  run,  but  he  knew^  how  to  fix 
it,  and  it  was  safe.  Stu  was  careful  about  things 
like  that. 

In  Dramatics  Club,  Stu  met  Shirley  Brown. 
Shirley  was  a  senior  too.  She  was  a  brain,  but 
she  didn't  have  to  work  at  it.  It  came  easy  to 
her.  Everything  came  easy  to  her.  She  had  the 
lead  in  practically  all  the  plays.  She  played  the 
Grieg  Piano  Concerto  at  the  orchestra  concert, 
and  she  could  swing  it  too.  None  of  her  sweaters 
were  cashmeres;  just  the  same,  she  was  voted 
one  of  the  best-dressed  gals  in  school.  Things 
looked  like  cashmere  on  her.  They  looked  good. 


ILLUSTRATED    BY    BARBABA  SCHWINN 


Stu  had  always  known  who  Shirley  was,  of 
course.  They  said  "Hi"  as  they  passed  in  4he 
halls  or  on  the  stairs,  though  they  didn't  have 
any  classes  together.  He  could  have  asked  her 
for  a  date  any  time,  but  it  had  never  occurred 
to  him,  somehow.  He  had  gone  to  the  orchestra 
concert  with  his  mother  and  father,  and  his  fa- 
ther had  said,  "All  that,  and  she  can  play  tool" 

"Do  you  know  her,  Stuart?"  his  mother  had 
asked;  and  he  had  merely  said,  "Sure." 

But  even  then,  though  he  was  proud  of  her 
the  way  you  are  of  any  kids  in  school  who  are 
good,  he  didn't  think  of  her  in  regard  to  him- 
self. He  didn't  picture  himself  calling  for  her, 
helping  her  into  his  car,  sitting  beside  her  in  a 
movie.  And  then  he  joined  Dramatics  Club,  and 
he  got  the  lead  opposite  her  in  the  senior  play. 
It's  easier  for  a  fellow  to  get  a  part  than  for  a 
girl.  Stu  was  tall,  and  his  face  wouldn't  scare 
anybody,  and  he  could  manage  his  feet. 

He  knew  he  was  not  much  of  an  actor,  but  if 
Shirley  knew  it,  she  never  let  on.  In  rehearsals 
when  they  had  to  do  a  part  over  and  over  again, 
she  acted  as  if' it  was  as  much  because  of  her  as 
because  of  him.  It  wasn't  put  on  either.  She 
worked  hard  at  her  acting  and  Stu  learned  a  lot 
from  her.  Maybe  he  would  be  terrible  in  any 
other  play  or  with  any  other  girl,  but  with 
Shirley  somehow  he  wasn't  bad.  She  made  him 
feel  real  natural.  Together  they  were  building 
a  little  w  orld,  as  Miss  Mellon  said,  that  was  real. 

They  were  acting.  (Continued  on  Page  158 


i 


This  is  the  time  of  year  when  fireplaces  are  much  on  our  minds. 
I  mean  on  the  minds  of  the  country  dwellers.  These  city  folk  who 
pull  up  to  a  steam  radiator  and  shiver  every  time  a  gust  of  wind 
comes  racing  across  the  pane  are  as  ignorant  of  the  importance 
of  the  fireplace  as  a  catbird  is  of  Chopin's  Fifth  Symphony. 

You  know  I  was  up  in  Vermont  last  fall.  Just  dropped  in  on 
them  to  say  howdy  and  pick  up  an  heirloom  or  two.  By  the  way, 
I  got  a  Bennington  jug  and  a  candlestick  that— well,  you  wait. 
I'll  get  them  both  tied  into  a  food  picture  someday,  if  it's  the  last 
thing  I  do  on  earth.  And  I  found  two  of  the  most  fascinating  old 
photos  of  the  "square"  in  Woodstock,  circa  1840,  and  a  group 
picture  of  the  Woodstock  Cornet  Band,  taken,  many,  many 
years  later,  in  front  of  the  bandstand.  (Now  gone  these  many 
years.  But  I  remember  it.)  And,  although  I  don't  see  at  the 
moment  how  I  can  get  this  in  a  food  picture,  maybe  I  can  get  it 
for  you  some  other  way.  It's  priceless,  only  cost  me  a  dollar. 

Well,  better  be  getting  back  to  that  fire;  we  can  throw  on 
another  log,  put  up  the  screen  and  let's  to  the  dining  room.  If 
your  family  reunion  or  party  isn't  (Continued  on  Page  123)  g 

I 

H 
OS 

3 


64 


BOWL  OF  FRUIT,  by  Henry  f'arnum  Poor 


1  A  book  that  has  engaged  me  lately  is  Evelyn  Waugh's 
Men  at  Arms.  This  is  the  first  in  a  trilogy  of  novels 
about  a  civilian  and  the  British  army.  Only  Waugh 
could  have  written  it.  You  will  be  the  ones  to  read 
it  and  enjoy  it. 

2  No  wedding  is  complete  without  chicken  salad.  And 
any  buffet  lacking  it  is  not  worth  reporting.  This  goes 
for  summer  or  winter.  Whatever  else  is  left  out,  chicken 
salad  there  must  be.  As  necessary  as  candles  on  a 
birthday  cake.  I'm  telling  you. 

3  Everyone  knows  a  dozen  ways  of  serving  the  in- 
evitable stand-by,  but  do  you  know  this  one?  Scoop 
out  part  of  each  half  of  an  avocado.  Prepare  one  half 
for  each  guest.  Mix  the  scooped-out  pear  meat  with 
the  salad.  Fill  the  avocados,  and  garnish  them  with 
chopped  hard-cooked  egg,  paprika,  hearts  of  palm  or 
celery,  and  ripe  olives. 

4  Don't  laugh  or  even  smile  at  the  idea  of  turkey  hash. 
Some  folks  do,  and  they're  among  those  who  are  on  the 
missing  end.  If  you  long  to  surprise  those  who  know, 
add  a  little  fine-minced  orange  and  lemon  rind  to  your 
hash,  with  a  little  nutmeg,  just  for  the  nut  of  it.  Serve 
the  scoffers  a  boiled  egg — in  the  shell.  And  eat  up  all 
the  hash. 

5  For  the  sweet-tooth  set:  Melt  over  hot  but  not  boil- 
ing water  1  package  semisweet  chocolate  pieces.  Stir  in 
}/2  cup  shredded  coconut  and  %  cup  bran  cereal.  Drop 
by  teaspoonfuls  on  a  greased  baking  sheet  and  chill 
until  firm.  Known  as  "haystacks,"  and  they  are 
very  good. 

6  Glaze  your  ham  as  you  will,  only  once  in  a  while 
give  it  a  treatment  like  this:  Melt  '  2  can  jellied  cran- 
berry sauce  over  hot  water.  Mix  in  J  4  cup  prepared 
mustard.  And  you'll  find  it's  pretty  tasty  on  steak 
or  tongue  as  well  as  ham.  Broiling  sort  of  sets  it  out — 
or  it  sets  out  the  broiled.  I  don't  know  which. 

7  Now  oysters  are  very  much  in,  and  how  they  taste 
when  the  drifts  are  drifting  and  the  frost  is  frosting ! 
Well,  for  what  I  hear  is  an  especially  good  Sunday- 
night  business,  take  large  fried  oysters,  and  drape 
them  between  slices  of  toast  spread  with  butter  and 
horse-radish,  and  there's  a  sandwich!  Oysters  are 
very  much  in. 

8  Confetti,  confetti,  but  not  to  thro\  This  is  the 
kind  you  eat,  and  it's  partyish,  especially  for  the  sled 
set.  Make  some  good  rich  biscuit  dough,  and  add 
chopped  pimiento— oh,  about  a  tablespoon— and  the 
same  of  chopped  green  pepper,  very  fine.  Very.  Then 
cut  and  bake  as  always.  Serve  hot  with  plenty  of  butter. 
These  confetti  biscuits  are  also  nice  to  top  a  casserole. 


J>  If  you  are  pan-roasting  potatoes,  do  a  few  extra. 
Set  away.  Next  day  it's  a  wise  girl  who  slices  them, 
salts  them  a  little,  and  fries  them  in  bacon  fat.  Drain 
and  add  to  the  breakfast  menu.  Good  with  grilled  ham. 

10  And  Sunday  breakfast  gives  you  a  little  extra  time 
and  you  may  let  other  things  ride  a  spell.  The  night  be- 
fore, cook  some  farina,  say  jkt  cup  in  41-2  cups  salted 
water,  until  pretty  thick. 

11  Next:  Add  1  cup  chopped  dried  apricots  or  dried 
peaches.  Pour  into  a  loaf  pan.  Chill  overnight,  unmold, 
slice,  and  fry  in  hot  fat  to  a  brown  like  an  autumn 
leaf.  Serve  with  fine  sugar  and  bacon.  Or  with  maple 
sirup  and  sausages.  This  is  New  England. 

12  Mix  equal  parts  apricot  jam  and  honey.  Spice 
lightly  with  cinnamon,  cloves  and  nutmeg.  And  that 
is  a  topping  for  waiifles. 

13  He-man  stuff:  Slice  thin  a  big  red  onion,  marinate 
the  slices  in  French  dressing  to  which  a  little  oregano 
has  been  added.  Drain,  and  make  a  sandwich,  using 
rye  bread. 

14  Little  individual  salads  are  molded,  garnished  with 
lettuce  cups,  artichokes  in  oil  disposed  in  artistic  array 
around  their  shapes,  and  dressed  with  mayonnaise, 
tinted.  Forgot  to  say  that  the  salads  are  sardines, 
shrimp  and  crab  meat,  put  to  sleep  in  little  beds  of 
tomato-and-lemon  aspic.  The  mayonnaise  is  tinted  to 
match.  Looks  like  a  Rembrandt,  or  maybe  a  Turner. 

15  Add  some  canned  corn  to  your  griddlecake  batter. 
Bake  as  usual,  serve  with  maple  sirup  and  crisp  bacon. 

16  For  jellied  eggs:  Poach  enough  eggs  to  go  round. 
Arrange  on  a  deep  platter  in  partly  set  aspic  made  of 
chicken  broth  and  gelatin.  When  this  is  set,  cover  with 
more  aspic.  Chill  until  firm.  Decorate  with  mayonnaise 
tinted  pale  green  if  you  feel  like  it. 

17  And  for  another  vegetable  trick,  add  a  little  finely 
chopped  pimiento  to  the  melted  butter  or  margarine 
for  your  cauliflower.  Looks  good — tastes  good. 

18  Leftover  doughnuts  are  no  problem.  They  rarely 
get  left  over.  But  should  you  have  a  couple,  split, 
toast,  spread  while  warm  with  butter  or  margarine,  dip 
in  sugar  and  cinnamon.  Something  good  for  breakfast. 

19  Chapter  1:  Too  good  to  overlook:  Griddlecakes, 
thin  and  baked  brown  on  both  sides,  used  to  wrap,  like 
a  Christmas  surprise  package,  a  crisp  brown  link  sau- 
sage in  each.  Fasten  with  a  toothpick.  Keep  them  hot. 
Have  plenty  of  broiled  bacon  in  the  making.  Arrange 
the  griddlecake-sausages  on  a  hot  platter.  Sprinkle 
them  well  with  grated  cheese.  Brown  under  the  broiler. 


20  Chapter  2:  Make  some  truly  creamy  scrambled 
eggs.  Add  thin-sliced  sauteed  mushrooms  and  green 
peppers.  Serve  on  triangles  of  crisp  buttered  toast,  and 
arrange  the  griddlecakes  and  sausages  on  top.  This 
is  an  elegant  dish. 

21  Does  anyone  remember  when  onions  were  declassee 
in  a  big  way?  Many  a  fine  lady  turned  up  her  aristo- 
cratic nose  at  the  mention  of  the  lowly,  homely,  wrong- 
side-of-the-tracks  onion.  But  oh,  my,  how  times  do 
change.  For  instance : 

22  Onion  soup  is  on  the  menu  in  the  smartest  places 
and  is  a  popular  feature.  You  may  make  it  (I've  given 
you  plenty  of  receipts).  Or  buy  it  in  cans.  Serve  piping 
hot  with  toasted  cubes  of  bread  baked  with  cheese. 

23  Creamed  finnan  haddie  is  a  cold-weather  inspira- 
tion. Add  diced  green  peppers,  diced  pimiento  and 
sliced  sauteed  mushrooms.  Bake  in  a  casserole  and  you 
have  Finnan  Haddie  Delmonico. 

24  Don't  tie  your  apron  on  wrong  side  out.  It's  bad 
luck.  And  a  dropped  fork  means  an  unexpected  man 
to  dinner.  A  spoon  biting  the  linoleum  means  a  woman 
who  expects  to  stay  for  tea.  Watch  for  these  things. 

25  Should  you  roast  a  duck — and  I  hope  you  will — 
garnish  the  platter  with  big  black  cherries,  heated. 
'Nuf  said. 

26  Bet  you've  never  tried  this  one.  Cook  beets  as 
usual.  Remove  skins,  slice,  and  serve  them  with  sea- 
soned sour  cream. 

27  A  dip  for  chips,  or  a  spread  for  crackers:  Mix  1 
package  crean>cheese  with  3  tablespoons  chopped  ripe 
olives,  3  tablespoons  finely  chopped  salted  almonds  and 
3^^  clove  garlic,  crushed. 

28  Here's  what  is  known  as  a  humdinger  of  an  idea. 
Get  a  small  freezer  container — one  of  the  little  square 
boxes  is  ideal — line  with  wax  paper  or  foil.  Now  pack 
into  it  tightly  a  big  bunch  of  parsley  from  which  you 
have  removed  the  long  stems.  Pack  tightly. 

2f>  Part  II:  Wrap  foil  or  wax  paper  around  the 
parsley,  making  a  neat  little  package.  Freeze  the  box  of 
parsley.  Now  whenever  you  need  a  little  chopped  pars- 
ley for  garnish  or  whatever,  simply  shave  a  bit  off  with 
a  sharp  knife.  It's  fresh,  green,  flavorful,  as  if  newly 
picked  from  the  garden.  A  little  boxful  lasts  all  winter. 

30  Down  in  New  Orleans  they  do  things  with  oysters. 
Open  them,  set  them  in  the  half  shell  on  a  bed  of  rock 
salt.  Cover  them  with  Thousand  Island  dressing. 
Sprinkle  with  grated  cheese.  Bake  seven  minutes  in  a 
hot  oven. 

31  Now  it's  good-by  once  more — from  me  to  you.  The 
winter  draws  on  apace.  Up  where  I've  been  a  spell,  the 
drifts  are  high,  the  night  winds  are  no  lullaby.  But  the 
sun  is  warm  and  the  skis  are  stacked  everywhere.  I 
never  saw  so  many  red  mittens  in  my  life.  I  guess  all  is 
well  in  Stowe  and  beautiful  on  Equinox.  Wishful 
thinking  in  my  mind,  love  in  my  heart.  Your  Annie. 


I      \    I)     I     I      s  •        II  M 


'         I    <i    I      IC    N    A  I. 


Winter  Woallicr  i 


3  Hoi  ideas  for  cold  days 


HY 


4^1 


ANM-:  M \HSIIAI.I. 

hirvrUtt  Hume  S'U  utiomtr* 


0 


^  -iii\i;nY  HAYS  ...  when  llic  wiriij 
\%  liistl«'s  . . .  Houp  is  particularly  ap- 
|trjliii^.  riif  look  <»f  it  . .  .  sli-ani  rising. 


f  look  <»f  it 
Tlic  sriK'll  of  it  .  .  .  fragrant  and  appctix- 
.savory  and  warming.  Thai's  why  meals 
I'uill  ardund  soup  arc  sf)  welcome. 

Here  are  some  cold  wcallier  soup  suggc^tions- 


iri''.  riio  taste  of  it 


/    The  pipiiifi  liof  Sunday  Supitcr.  Soup  is  one 

ol  llie  lew  main  di>li(;n  wliirli  i  uii  Ix-  prc|)ai  c  (J  in  just  four  min- 
utes. So  the  family  chooses  soup,  Sundays  . . .  it's  so  easy,  for 
mother's  "night  off".  Cream  of  Chicken  Soup  (real  down-on- 
tho-farm  soup),  sandwich  tray  and  relishes. 

^  The  hurry -UJ)  hot  lunch*  Soup's  just  a  natural 
ill  u  inter.  All  the  lolk>  ( onie  home  cold  at  noon  will  love 
thi>  kind  of  warm-you-fast  lunch.  Vegetable  Soup  (14  vegetables 
in  a  good  beef  stock),  brow  n  bread  and  cream  cheese,  ham  and 
celery  rolls.  \\  hat  a  really  good  lunch! 

3    Tlw  big  steaming  mug  of  soup.   A  winter 

afternoon  special  .  .  .  quick  pickup  when  you  re  chilly.  Serve  it 
with  something  crunchy  for  contrast.  Tomato  Soup  (taste 
those  sun-ripened  tomatoes),  crackers  and  pretzel  sticks. 


A  good  cooli  keeps  a  full  aoup  shelf    '  * 


66 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


TO  STOP  BAD  BREATH,  I  RECOMMEND 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM.  BRUSHING  TEETH  RJGHT 
>  AFTER  EATING  WITH  COLGATE'S  MAKES  YOUR 
MOUTH  FEEL  CLEANER  LONGER-GIVES  YOU 
A  CLEAN,  FRESH  MOUTH  ALL  m  LONG! 


AND  COLGATES  HAS  PROVED  CONCLUSIVELY 
THAT  BRUSHING  TEETH  RIGHT  AFTER  EATING  STOPS 
TOOTH  DECAY  BEST?  IN  FACT,  THE  COLGATE  WAY 
STOPPED  MORE  DECAY  FOR  MORE  PEOPLE  T}^AN  EVER 
BEFORE  REPORTED  IN  DENTIFRICE  HISTORYl 


LATER — Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 

THIS  SHOULDER'S  NICE,  AND  COZ>  \  r  '  \ 
WHICH  SHOWS  WHAT  COLGATE  CARE  (M  I'll'  ; 


Brushing  Teeth  Right  After  Eating  with 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

STOPS 
BAD  BREATH 

Clind 

STOPS  DECAY! 

Colgate's  instantly  stops  bad  breath  in  7  out  of  10 
cases  that  originate  in  the  mouth !  And  the  Colgate 
way  of  brushing  teeth  right  after  eating  is  the 
best  home  method  known  to  help  stop  tooth  decay  I 


IT  CLEANS  YOUR  BREATH  WHILE  IT 
CLEANS  YOUR  TEETH! 


box,  sitting  up  on  the  front  seat  of  the  Pierce- 
Arrow.  I  was  coming  out  of  the  mill  gates  and 
when  I  looked  at  her  she  looked  at  me.  She 
couldn't  have  been  over  eight,  and  the  eyes 
in  such  a  face  ought  not  to  make  you  think 
of  the  biggest  thing  in  the  world.  But  I, 
who'd  never  seen  it.  thought  of  the  ocean, 
which  no  matter  how  much  or  little  of  it  you 
were  looking  at  you'd  always  know  there  was 
more,  so  deep,  and  girdling  all  around  every- 
thing there  was  on  the  earth.  Even  the  bold 
thing  I'd  just  done,  and  how  scared  I  was — 
I  forgot  lhat  for  a  minute.  But  then  the 
hollow-log  feeling  came  back  in  me  and  I 
went  on  across  the  road  to  the  stream. 

I  didn't  notice  the  little  girl  getting  out  of 
the  car  because  I  had  to  think  what  to  do. 
The  four  dollars  in  my  pocket  belonged  to  the 
McKails.  They'd  made  me  a  pallet  and  given 
me  pone  and  collards — and  jowl,  when  they 
had  it—from  the  time  I  came  down  to  Hey- 
ward  till  I  got  in  at  the  mills.  It'd  taken  three 
months  to  catch  up  paying  them.  I'd've  had 
two  dollars  for  myself  now  if  I'd  got  what  was 
owed  me.  But  Jake  Hennys— he  was  the  pay 
boss — he  said  he'd  let  me  know  who  could 
cut  hell  by  lightin'  out  before  he'd  got  a  new 
man  into  the  openin'  room. 

"Not  as  how  you're  any  use  there,"  he 
said.  "Same  mess  you  was  in  spinnin'.  But 
you're  hired  by  the  week.  Ain't  nobody  ever 
quit  on  Wednesday.  Fact,  ain't  nobody  ever 
quit." 

"  I'm  quittin',"  I  said. 

"Think  so?"  Jake  said.  "I'm  firin'  you 
now.  And  you  can  take  the  four  dollars  or 
leave  it." 

He  stuck  his  head  out  of  the  office  as  I 
walked  ofY.  "Hey ! "  he  hollered.  "Where  else 
d'you  think  a  ignoramus  hillbilly  is  goin'  to 
get  him  a  job  in  this  nigger -jammed  town?" 

Except  to  give  them  the  money  I  couldn't 
go  back  to  the  McKails.  Because  if  I  stayed 
there  they'd  try  to  feed  me,  and  they 
couldn't. 

So  here  I  was  standing  while  the  sun  set 
and  thinking  how  dew  falls  heavy  sometimes 
in  September.  Maybe  some  people  who  had 
garages  didn't  lock  them,  and  if  I  was  just 

to  

"King  Thrushbeard ! "  she  said,  and  I 
jumped.  It  was  the  little  girl,  standing  in  her 
thin  fine  dress,  right  on  the  big  rock  beside 
me.  "That's  who  you  might  be,"  she  said, 
"King  Thrushbeard." 

"Or  I  might  be  a  ol'  robber  who  et  chil'- 
ren,"  I  said,  but  she  just  laughed. 

"If  it  was  real  your  beard  wouldn't  be 
white,  because  you're  young,"  she  went  on, 
and  I  realized  there  was  lint  stuck  along  the 
light  stubble  of  my  jaw  and  chin.  I  plucked  it 
off.  "  You  could  still  be  him,"  she  said.  "  You 
know,  to  fool  the  stuck-up  Princess  he 
dressed  in  rags  like  the  beggar-fiddler." 

I  looked  down  at  my  work  clothes,  which 
were  everything  I  owned,  and  "Oh,"  she 
said,  real  quickly,  "  I  didn't  mean— in  your 
nice  jeans  and  all — I  didn't  mean  you  looked 
like  a — like  a  " 

"I  know,"  I  said.  "You  was  just  talking 
about  this  King." 

She  nodded.  "They  all  walked  easy  and 
were  tall,"  she  said.  "Well,  maybe" — she 
broke  off,  frowning — "I  guess  maybe 
Grimms  says  there're  a  few  little  kings  and 
princes,  fat  or  scrounged-up  ones.  But  I 
don't  count  those." 

"Who's  he— Grim?"  I  asked. 

"Why — that's  the  fairy  tales!  Didn't  you 
read  them  when  you  were  little?" 

"Not  ever,"  said  I,  who'd  had  all  my 
schooling  one  winter  in  Pinetop  when  I  was 
going  on  nineteen. 

"What's  your  name?"  she  said. 

' '  Tawl*  Taw  Jameson. ' ' 

"Mine's  Chloe.  Chloe  Hey  ward." 

"Proud  to  be  acquainted,"  I  said. 

"Thank  you.  Me  too."  She  stuck  out  her 
hand  and  I  shook  it.  "Now,"  she  said,  sort  of 
pleased  and  solemn,  "I  told  you  about 
Grimms.  What  books  do  you  like?" 

I  thought  of  the  one  they  gave  me  in  Pine- 
top,  that  one  about  the  cat  that  ran  after  the 


TAW  JAMESON 

(Continued  from  Page  27) 

rat  and  the  little  red  hen  who  was  always  so 
busy,  and  decided  it  wouldn't  interest  her. 
The  only  other  book  I'd  ever  read,  it  being 
all  we  had  at  home,  was  the  Bible.  So,  "The 
Bible,"  I  said. 

This  impressed  her,  and  a  foolish  pleasure 
ran  all  over  me. 

I  knew  she  ought  to  be  back  up  in  that  big 
automobile.  I  had  to  get  on  to  looking  for  a 
sleeping  place  and  'twould  do  no  good  if  who- 
ever brought  her  to  the  mills  found  her  on 
that  rock  with  me.  But  now  her  eyes  were 
looking  far  off,  clouded,  and  I  saw  how  her 
little  fancy-slippered  feet,  a  mite  pigeon- 
toed,  were  set  down  on  the  big  stone  and  how 
her  little  arms  just  hung  down  out  of  the 
rufifles;  and  her  lonesomeness  was  coming 
right  out  of  her.  I  squatted  beside  her. 

The  sun  was  gone,  just  in  that  minute.  All 
the  bright  patterns  of  shrub  around  us  turned 


The  Teachers 

Itti  3laii  Sartnn 

History  happens  in  small  rooms. 

And  people  grow 
In  your  large  hands  like  states 

patiently  won 
From  wilderness.  But  the  work  is 

slow. 

You  do  not  see  the  end  and  it  is 
never  done. 

You  are  as  clear  as  light;  this  is 
your  mystery: 

To  give,  to  build  the  love  you  do 

not  share, 
And  still  to  grow  by  this.  You  have 

no  history. 
Lose  what  you  win,  you  who  so 

deeply  care. 

For  this  largess,  this  gift,  words 
are  too  narrow, 

They  are  not  needed.  The  praise 
is  afterwards. 

For  you  who  are  the  future,  wear- 
ing love  at  marrow. 

The  praise  is  later,  found  in  lives, 
not  words. 


dark  and  a  faint  wind  from  nowhere  blew 
over  the  water  and  lifted  a  piece  of  her  hair. 

She  bent  over,  hands  on  knees."  You  know, 

that's  my  name  all  right,  Chloe,  but  " 

She  looked  sideways  at  me.  "You  promise 
not  to  tell  something?" 

I  nodded. 

"  I'm  a  changeling,"  she  said.  "  I  am,"  she 
said,  telling  it  to  me  that  way  we  tell  the  im- 
portant lies,  to  stare  the  other  person  down 
and  make  it  true. 

"Why,"  I  said,  "  I  know'd  that  right  off." 

"No!  Nobody  does! "  She  looked  so  upset 
I  explained  I  was  fooling  and  didn't  even 
know  what  it  was,  a  changeling. 

So  she  told  me  about  how  the  newborn 
baby  could  be  witched  away  and  another  one 
put  in  its  place  to  grow  up  with  even  the 
mother  not  knowing  it  wasn't  hers. 

It  was  so  much  to  her,  this  idea,  that  I  had 
to  keep  quiet  a  while. 

"Do  you  just  read  books?"  I  asked  pres- 
ently. "Don't  you  never  play?  Like  fox  an' 
geese  with  other  kids?" 

She  stood  of?  from  me,  proud  and  careful. 
"Sometimes,"  she  said. 

"What's  the  matter?"  I  said.  "I  bet  you 
can  play  good." 

"Peter  says  I  can." 

"Your  brother?" 

She  shook  her  head.  "Peter  Mebane.  We 
have  a  little  house  in  the  hedge.  And  a  desert 
island.  I  can't  tell  where  that  is." 


"Desert  island!"  I  said.  "Don't  you  like 
tag,  and  all?" 

She  didn't  answer  at  first.  Then:  "They  al- 
ways say  I'm  dressed  up.  They  say  rompers 
are  just  fancy-pants  and  when  Mademoiselle 
found  out  I  put  mud  on  me  on  purpose  be- 
fore I  went  looking  for  them  she  went  back  to 
New  York  and  mummy  said  how  could  I  with 
the  war  so  you  can't  get  servants!  But  I 
don't  think  it  was  my  mudhole.  I  think  it  was 
because  in  Heyward  she  could  never  have 
anybody,  only  me,  to  talk  to.  Nasty  hated 
her." 

I  had  lost  track.  "Nasty?"  I  said. 
"Our  cook.  She  won't  say  her  name 
Nasturtium.  'Nasty,'  she  says, ' that's  me. ' " 

It  was  just  then  Mr.  Heyward  came  over 
the  road.  I'd  never  laid  eyes  on  him  but  you 
could  see  right  away  that  it  all  belonged  to 
him,  the  mills  and  every  littlest  leaf  of  grass. 
But  this  was  more  in  the  plain  polite  way  he 
said  good  evening  to  you— having  already 
thought  and  decided  you  wouldn't  harm  the 
child— than  it  was  anything  else.  He  took 
his  daughter's  hand,  but  she  hung  back  talk- 
ing and  telling  him  my  name. 

"On  the  night  shift?"  he  asked. 

"No,  sir." 

"Do  you  want  a  job?" 
"Not  here,  sir." 

Though  it  was  nearly  dark  I  could  see  his 
calm  eyes  chill  over. 

"If  you  are  a  gentleman  of  leisure,"  Mr. 
Heyward  said,  "we  won't  trouble  you 
further.  But  with  a  war  on,  since  you  aren't 
in  uniform,  I  thought  you  might  want  to 
work." 

"  I  do,"  I  said.  "  I 'm  lookin'  for  work." 

"  It's  there."  He  flung  his  hand  toward  the 
mill . '  'Are  you  afraid  you  '11  find  it  ? " 

"Daddy! "Chloe said.  "Oh,  daddy!" 

We  looked  down  at  her  small  face  strain- 
ing up  in  the  dusk  and  were  silent. 

As  he  started  away,  "  You  could  do  worse," 
Mr.  Heyward  said.  "Our  wages  are  high  up 
the  scale."  And  this  was  true.  In  1918,  in 
North  Carolina  mills,  two  dollars  was  good 
pay  for  a  ten-hour  day. 

"I  know,  sir"— I  pushed  my  voice  out  to 
follow  them.  "  It's  just  I  wasn't  no  good  at 

it.  I   "  Mr.  Heyward  turned  back, 

listening.  "  I  just  got  the  feelin'  there,  in  the 
never-stoppin'  howl  of  noise,  and  doin'  the 
same  little  things  over  and  over,  that 
I  " 

"Oh,"  he  said,  "you'd  get  used  to  that." 

"That's  what  I  was  feared  of." 

"Dammit!"  Mr.  Heyward  said.  "Don't 
you  want  to  make  a  living?  " 

"Course  I  do.  But  if  makin'  it  you  got  to 
lose  the  reason  for  it  then  you  just  as 
well  " 

"Why,  boy,  that's  dreamer's  talk!"  He 
said  the  word  "dreamer"  like  it  was  "thief" 
or  "shiftless." 

"Sir,"  I  said,  "if  you  was  to  know  of  any— 
if  you  was  to  just  tell  me  of  anywhere  else 
they'd  want  a  willin'  worker.  I'm  right 
strong  and  " 

"We  need  somebody  to  work,"  Chloe 
said.  "Daddy,  you  said  so.  Oh,  let's  have 
Taw!" 

Her  father  gathered  her  up,  setting  her  on 
his  shoulder.  She  wavered  like  a  moth  on  his 
heavy  decent  body  while  no  one  spoke. 

At  last,  "I  suppose  you  can  cut  grass," 
Mr.  Heyward  said.  "What  about  cleaning 
house?" 

"Yes  sir!" 

"When  could  you  begin?" 

"Now,  sir.  But  there's  one  thing.  If  I  was 
to  work  for  you  things'd  ought  first  to  be 
square  between  us." 

"If?"  He  gave'a  startled  snort.  "Now 
what?" 

I  told  him  how  it'd  been  when  I  left  the 
mill.  "So  you  owe  me  two  dollars,"  I  said. 

He  set  Chloe  on  the  ground  and  stood 
staring  at  me.  Then,  "Just  get  yourself  in 
the  back  of  that  car,  Taw,"  he  said.  "No, 
wait."  He  took  out  his  wallet  and  put  two 
dollars  carefully  in  my  hand.  He  said,  "I'll 
speak  to  Hennys  in  the  morning." 


I      <l     I  UN 


fore  lie  drovi'  us  off  lie  lookwl  hack  al 
lid  he  Ix'nan  lallnllin^^  to  himself.  "I'll 
imned  ! "  lie  said. 

'ou  uoiii'  U)  lire  him,  sir?  Ilennys?"  I 
1. 

xTlainly  not."  Mr.  Ilcyward  steered 
id  the  sweep  of  Mill  Uoad.  "He's  very 
Hui  we'll  watch  him  after  this." 
loe  knell  up  and  leaned  back  across 
-onl  seal  toward  me.  For  a  lon^;  lime 
)()ked  me  all  over,  like  she  was  finurin^ 
,  something,  wiiile  the  wind  whirled  her 
and  worry  louciied  iier  face.  Wiien 
aliier  told  her  lo  sit  dowu  she  slid 

I  slowly  and  leaned  her  lu  ad  against 
"  1  )o  you  nuess  we  can  keep  him?"  she 
1. 

.  I  Icyward  was  chan^inf^  Rears.  "  What  ?  " 
aw."  Chloe  said.  "Will  mummy  like 
viiin  him?" 

!)nly  a  few  minutes  we  went  through  the 
ess  part  of  town.  The  other  mills  hadn't 
)me  to  I  ley  ward  nor  tiie  Rains  Chemi- 
;)mpany  nourished  out  of  it  into  a  New 
sks  scraper  and  over  the  world  on  radio, 
leyward'sinills,  the  National  Hank,  the 
Helk  store  and  the  old  smoky  brick 

were  the  lar.uesl  buildin.us  in  town 
There  weren't  more  than  fifteen  thou- 
peoi)le  alto.uether  in  Heyvvard.  But 
hin.u  had  touched  this  town  already, 
foreknowinff  excitement.  The  dark  air 
xl  with  it  while  we  rode  out  where  the 
r  houses  sal  back  in  land  deep  with 
and  in  the  black-patterned  streets  you 

feel  the  silent,  almost  secret,  stir  of 
3.  As  if  the  town  readied  itself  lo  meet 
icominK  ten  years,  the  years  that  would 
t  with  humans  till  it  swelled  four  times 
;e. 

II  V'illaKe  was  sort  of  separate.  This 
cluster  of  little  frame  houses  for  the 

.>rs  lay  west  of  the  mills.  When  first  I 

there  I  was  struck  dumb  by  what 
•d  to  me  such  a  swarmin.u;  crush  of 
e,  all  loud  and  worn-out  and  tangled 
lier  among  the  thin  walls  and  little 

streets.  Night  and  morning  the  smell 
lier  men's  food  was  in  your  nose  and 
's  the  sound  of  their  struggle  in  your 
the  scrape  of  their  laughing  anc'  the 
loise  of  their  quarreling  and  the  sad 
jl  sounds  of  their  loving.  The  best  I 

do  was  to  turn  myself  dead.  So  at  first 
.  stayed  on  my  pallet  at  the  McKails' 
hey  let  me  be,  never  tankering  al  me  to 

into  the  talk.  Until  the  night  Ran 
ison  came  over  with  his  likker  jug  they 

harried  me.  He  was  overseer  in  the 
in'  room  and  I'd  found  out  something 
y  my  pa'd  used  to  say— when  his  shot 
a  squirrel  neat  and  perfect  back  be- 
the  ears-  he'd  say,  "Dawg!  Couldn't 
me  better  had  he  been  a  Atcheson!" 
those  days,  hunting  with  pa,  I'd  never 
Ran.  Atchesons  kept  off  our  ridge.  And 
those  scarce  times  we  were  down  lo 
h  meeting  or  to  a  dancing  we  had  no 
of  them.  Pa'd  keep  my  sisters  side- 
ling, or  drag  them  clean  away,  if  there 
Atchesons  dancing  in  a  reel. 
Hey  ward,  at  the  mills,  all  that  seemed 
way.  As  if  it'd  been  some  other  boy  I 

about  in  some  mountains  in  another 
Pa  had  us  working  the  field  slope  early, 
iris  when  they  were  thirteen  and  four- 
and  me  as  soon  as  I  could  hold  a  hoe. 

never  gave  up.  Not  ever  having  seen 
ich  and  easy  things  come  out  of  watered 
au  land,  he  scrabbled  on  in  rocky  dirt, 
las  no  natural  farmer — a  hunter,  he 
-and  he'd  never  heard  how  shelfing  a 
and  plowing  wavy  rows  would  hold  the 

against  winter  washes.  So  we  scratched 
;r  with  less  to  eat  each  year  while  the 

slipped  away.  And  when  the  worst 
T  came,  with  the  deer  gone  and  possum 
quirrel  so  scarce,  the  girls  just  faded  and 
Ded  down— almost  in  a  day  it  seemed. 

just  coughed  some,  not  long,  and  were 

We  put  them  down  deep,  and  in  the 
grove,  far  away  from  that  slope  where 
had  poured  out  their  strength, 
len  I  was  a  kid,  sometimes  I'd  think  to 
a  how  it  was  with  me  when  the  air  was 
and  thin  blowing  around  at  sunup,  or  on 


nights  when  we'd  set  out  with  kuiuiiht  star* 
hanging  into  the  irecs  IkxauHi-  there  wah 
sonielhing  in  these  tunes  to  tell  you  the  rea- 
son for  us  hoeing  and  getting  lh^ou^'h  wm- 
ters  and  for  men  biiilfhng  cities  and  l.  ;imii^' 
things  and  iravelmg  over  the  world,  I  hi-re 
was  something,  a  thing  that  would  prouden 
or  comfort  you.  A  reason,  Hut  I  never  talked 
to  pa  about  this.  Hecause  I  wkjm  IouiuI  out  he 
had  his  own  reason.  And  it  was  no  km  Ir)  the 
thing  1  was  so  sure  al)oiit.  For  pa  there  was 
nothing  but  his  lonesome  light  against  tin 
strange  powers  thai,  having  got  hini  hen- 
seemed  set  on  getting  rid  of  inni.  The  ohjei  i 
was  lo  slay  alive.  He  got  s<j  taken  u|)  with 
tins  that  at  the  very  last,  when  he  looked  lik. 
no  more  than  a  brown  handful  of  leaves  oi: 
his  col.  he  would  eat  the  Uhh\  he  kne\\ 
wouldn't  save  him  and  which  he  knew  m.i 
ought  lo  have,  just  lo  win  one  more  day,  om 
more  minule.  Ma  and  1  would  hold  up  his 
head.  He  would  swallow,  and  it  was  as  if  hi 
shook  his  lisl  at  everything. 

IIy  fall  of  the  year  1916  ma  and  I  were 
alone  and  it  was  then  we  went  down  lo  I'ine- 
to])  Village.  I  was  ashamed,  being  so  big  at 
eighteen,  lo  be  at  the  beginning  of  scIkxiI 
Hut  I  wanted  bad  lo  read  and  write  and,  tx'- 
sides,  ma  was  set  on  having  me  sch(X)led.  She 
had  a  houseworking  job  for  the  winter  and 
though  she  was  ixiorly  she  would  never  lei 
me  help  wilh  the  heavy  chores  until  after  my 
lessons  were  done.  The  village  was  full  of  talk 
about  the  lighting  in  Europe  and  I  had  a  mind 
to  get  in  the  Army. 

"Not  yet,  son,"  ma  said.  "Maybe  before 
summer's  over  I'll  be  fixed  to  do  without 
you."  She  had  come  lo  meet  me  out  in  the 
yard  of  where  she  worked  and.  in  that  glaring 
treeless  place,  all  at  once  I  could  see  it.  How 
winter  had  hollowed  out  her  face  and  stained 
the  red  patches  onto  her  cheekbones.  She 
looked  off  west  to  the  mountains  for  a  long 
time.  Then  she  put  her  hand,  now  turned 
sparrow-thin,  up  to  my  shoulder.  "You  got 
lo  take  me  back."  she  said.  She  kept  her  eyes 
hard  on  mine  so  I'd  know  I  was  not  to  speak 
of  what  she  knew  I  knew  she  meant. 

We  bought  meal  and  other  victuals  and  gol 
a  wagon  ride  halfway  up  home.  At  first,  when 
I'd  chinked  up  the  holes  and  cleaned  the 
chimney,  she  seemed  better.  Hut  by  Septem- 
ber she  was  on  the  pallet.  Somehow,  though, 
she  was  sort  of  gay.  We  both  were.  I'd  make 
hoecake,  and  with  the  lire  twinkling  I'd  read 
to  her.  I  liked  Ecclesiastes.  bul  she  would 
always  choose  the  part  about  Jesus  making 
Peter  a  fisher  of  men.  In  November  there 
came  one  of  those  days  that  belong  more  to 
spring.  She  wanted  to  go  out,  so  I  wrapped 
her  good  and  carried  her  as  she  directed.  She 
had  shrunk  so  she  weighed  no  more  than  a 
child  against  me  when  we  sat  down  on  the 
slope.  The  air  was  drifting  with  those  little 
ghosts  of  dandelions  and  she  stared  round 
and  down  into  the  valley. 

"  It's  a  sort  of  circle,"  she  said.  "  You  were 
little,  and  I  used  to  set  here  holdin'  you.  Now 
I'm  little,  and  you're  holdin'  me." 

She  stirred  and  gave  a  kind  of  laugh  but  it 
turned  into  a  choke  and  her  head  fell,  light 
and  sudden,  onto  my  shoulder.  Her  eyes  were 
shut  and  the  dainty  scarlet  bubbles  were  at 
her  lips.  I  never  took  her  back  inside  the 
house. 

It  was  strange  how  I  had  to  work  on  the 
place.  Like  it  was  the  beginning  of  something 
instead  of  the  end.  I  sawed  and  hammered 
and  scrubbed.  And  I  knew  that  I  would  walk 
down  off  Jameson's  Ridge  and  never  come 
back. 

The  recruiting  center  was  in  Henderson- 
ville  and  I  got  few  rides  so  it  was  New  Year's 
before  I  had  the  examinations  for  the  Army. 
Because  they  gave  the  physicals  at  the  end  I 
went  all  through  those  question  lists -intel- 
ligence tests.  When  they  got  through  they 
said  I  was  fine  and  passed  me  to  the  doctor. 
I  wouldn't  do,  he  said.  I  didn't  have  two.  bul 
only  one  and  one  third,  lungs. 

"  You  must  have  had  a  whale  of  a  consti- 
tution to  get  through  that,"  said  he.  "When 
was  it?" 

"Was  what?" 

"Why— the  tuberculosis,"  he  said.  But  I 
didn't  know.  There'd  been  so  many  colds  and 
coughs  when  I  was  little. 


When  does  a 
"simple  cold"  become  serious? 


Whenever  fever  —  even  a  degree  or 
so  above  normal  —  accompanies  a  so- 
called  "simple  cold,"  it  is  serious 
enough  to  be  called  to  the  attention  of 
your  doctor. 

Many  of  us  are  inclined  to  regard  a  cold 
all  too  lightly — even  when  it  brings  on  "a 
touch  of  fever."  We  may  say:  "ll  will  be 
gone  lomorrow,"  and,  relying  on  our  fa- 
vorite home  remedy,  attempt  to  continue 
our  usual  activities. 

Doctors  take  a  more  serious  view  of 
colds.  They  believe  that  any  cold  should  be 
properly  treated— and  preferably  as  soon 
as  it  develops.  While  many  measures  are 
used  for  the  relief  of  colds,  most  physicians 
believe  that  the  best  treatment  is  simply 
this: 

Remain  at  home  and  rest  as  much 
as  possible,  preferably  in  bed;  eat 
light,  wholesome  food;  drink  plenty  of 
liquids;  and  be  sure  to  check  your 
temperature. 

The  latter  point  is  particularly  important 
because  a  feverish  cold  often  indicates  the 
onset  of  more  serious  illnesses — sinusitis, 
ear  infections,  bronchitis,  and  certain  com- 
municable diseases  including  the  various 
forms  of  pneumonia. 

In  fact,  it  has  been  estimated  that  colds 
are  the  starting  point  for  nine  out  of  ten 
cases  of  pneumonia.  So,  in  addition  to 
keeping  check  on  your  temperature,  it  is 


wise  to  watch  out  for  chills,  pain  in  the 
cbo";i  or  side  after  coughing  or  deep  breath- 
ing, and  the  appearance  of  rusKolorcd 
sputum.  S lion  It/  any  of  these  sympiorm  of 
^pncunwiiia  develop,  cull  the  duct  or  at  once. 

Fortunately,  medical  science  has  made 
enormous  strides  against  pneumonia.  Just 
a  few  years  ago,  one  oiU  of  every  three 
pneumonia  victims  died.  Today  modern 
drugs  are  so  effective  that  only  one  out  of 
every  25  cases  is  lost.  This  record  should 
not  lull  anyone  into  a  false  sense  of  security 
— for  pneumonia  can  still  strike  and  rap- 
idly become  serious.  Prompt  treatment 
is  just  as  vital  as  ever. 

Good  health  habits  help  prevent  winter 
ailments  such  as  pneumonia.  So,  during 
the  cold  months  ahead,  you  may  find  these 
simple  precautions  helpful  in  conser\ing 
your  resistance  against  colds,  pneumonia, 
and  other  respiratorv  diseases: 

Avoid  loss  of  sleep,  excessive  fa- 
tigue, and  over-exposure  to  extreme 
cold  and  dampness. 

Eat  a  well-balanced  daily  diet. 

Stay  away  from  people  who  cough 
or  sneeze  carelessly. 

See  your  doctor  for  a  thorough  phys- 
ical examination  if  you  have  frequent 
colds. 


Metropolitan  Life 
Insurance  Compariy 

.(  ill  Tl  AL    Kt    COill'A.S  ) 

A\T,.,  New  Youk  10,  N.  Y 


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of  your  booklet,  153-.J. 
"Respirator>'  Diseases." 


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ME  JOURNAL 

"Don't  worry,"  the  doctor  said,  "just  live 
normally.  Plenty  of  good  meat  and  fresh 
vegetables.  And  plenty  of  rest." 

I  put  my  two  twenty-five-cent  pieces  one 
in  each  pocket  and  started  walking  down  to 
where  the  jobs  were. 

I  knew  the  McKails  and  others  from  our 
parts  had  come  to  Heyward.  But  I  hadn't 
known  how  far  it  was.  It  took  a  sight  of  odd 
jobs  to  earn  the  war  price  of  eating,  and  in 
some  towns  I  was  held  up  for  longish  spells.  I 
didn't  know  then  how  small  they  were,  those 
towns.  They  were  full  of  motorcars.  I  had 
seen  a  few  in  Pinetop.  A  truck  or  two,  and 
little  peevish-looking  flivvers.  In  the  towns 
the  cars  had  a  different  look.  Like  they  were 
tending  to  their  business  hauling  things  and 
people  all  around. 

Even  more  than  with  the  cars  I  was  taken 
up  with  watching  the  black  people.  The  tide 
of  them  rose  and  heavied  the  farther  you 
came  down  onto  the  plain.  In  Pinetop  they'd 
been  so  scarce  and  "nigger"  was  only  a 
careless  way  of  saying  "Negro."  By  the  time 
I  got  to  He-'ward  I  knew  all  the  bitter  shad- 
ings that  could  be  put  into  the  word— 
whether  by  mouths  in  white  faces  or  in 
black  ones.  I  was  struck  by  how  much  the 
colored  people  laughed.  Like  other  folks, 
they  had  all  kinds  of  laughter;  still,  most  of 
it  was  real.  Like  the  sorrowing  of  their  songs. 
I  came  to  feel  the  secretness  in  their  lives. 

In  Heyward  no  colored  man  ever  showed 
his  face  in  Mill  Village.  Except  that  once. 
The  night  Ran  Atcheson  was  at  the  Mc- 
Kails'. It  was  August  by  then  and  Mrs.  Mc- 
Kail  and  Jamie  and  their  two  boys  were  out 
on  the  little  porch  with  Ran.  Through  the 
window  I  could  see  them  passing  the  jug 
around  and  the  two  boys— about  my  age 
they  were,  around  twenty— kept  calling  in 
for  me  to  come  on  out.  The  talk  didn't  come 
to  much.  Besides  the  likker  being  Ran's, 
Jamie  and  the  boys  were  in  spinnin',  and  it 
was  soon  plain  Ran  wouldn't  laugh  at  the 
little  jokes  they  tried.  He  would  only  wait  for 
the  jug  to  come  back.  Then  he'd  take  big 
swigs  and  cuss  at  them  and  they  sort  of  haw- 
hawed  at  him  like  they  hoped  that  was  what 
they  were  meant  to  do. 

Just  suddenly  the  black  man  was  there.  He 
stepped  into  the  bright  circle  that  came  from 
the  arc  light  hanging  in  front  of  the  Mc- 
Kails'. Maybe  it  was  the  slow  careful  way  he 
was  walking  that 'd  kept  us  from  hearing  him 
coming.  Even  I,  inside,  could  see  how  bad  his 
feet  hurt  him.  He  was  young,  but  at  first.that 
was  hard  to  tell  with  his  old  hat  throwing 
shadow  down  and  the  clothes  hanging  loose 
on  him.  Everything  was  ragged  down  to  his 
feet.  And  then  there,  to  set  you  agape,  were 
those  shoes.  How  long  they  had  lain  in  some- 
body's attic  there  was  no  telling,  but  when 
you  saw  them  you  knew  all  the  fierce  and 
humble  joy  with  which  they  had  been  put  on 
and  the  pride  that  would  keep  them  on  those 
splayed  feet  until  they  wore  to  nothing.  They 
were  old-fashioned,  pointed-toed,  aglitter 
with  polish  and  buttons.  On  the  sides, 
through  razored  slits,  brown  toes  or  bunions 
showed.  The  slits  were  so  neat— to  let  out  the 
agony  but  not  spoil  the  elegance.  The  col- 
ored boy  stopped,  looking  around,  then  made 
as  if  to  come  toward  the  porch. 

Right  away  Ran  was  on  his  feet.  "  Git  off ! " 
he  hollered.  "Listen,  you  black  booger !  What 
d'you  think  you're  doin'  up  here?" 

The  boy  backed  off  a  step,  not  answering, 
and  in  that  still  minute  I  knew  the  McKails 
were  against  him  too.  The  McKails  and  all 
their  kind  have  seen  their  children  hungry 
because  Negroes  could  be  so  cheap-hired. 

"Anstver  me,  you!"  Ran  said  and  went 
down  off  the  porch. 

The  Negro  backed  up  another  step  and 
Ran  grabbed  hard  hold  of  him.  "Doin' 
nothin',  boss!  Jes'  wonderin'  where  is  I 
at,"  he  said.  "Leggo,  boss;  please,  does  you 
know  where  is  Dimity  Street?" 

"  Nigger  town ! "  Ran  gave  a  wrench  at  the 
arm  he  held.  "How  come  you  to  ask  Ran 
Atcheson  does  he  know  the  stinkin'  streets 
in  nigger  town?"  Something  smutty  was 
mixed  into  Ran's  words. 

I  got  up  quick  and  went  outside. 

"Ise  strange  here,"  the  boy  was  saying. 
"Jes' come  in  f 'um  Salisbury.  Got  to  find  me 


Jan  nary,  1953 

Dimity  Street."  He  was  trying  to  get  his  arm 
loose.  "Yessuh,  jes'  lemme  go  on  find  it." 
He  had  nearly  got  his  arm  away.  "Tha's  it, 
jes'  lemme  go  on,  tha's  right." 

"Don't  you  dast  tell  me  what  is  or  ain't 
right!"  Ran  said  and  swung  his  thick  fist 
back.  But  then  his  eyes  fell  on  the  shoes. 
The  boy  stood  frozen  while  Ran's  little  eyes  I 
crawled  up  slow  to  his  face  and  back  down 
to  his  feet.  And  when  Ran's  big  boots  came 
stomping  and  grinding  into  the  bright 
leather  and  poor  brown  lumps  of  flesh  the 
boy  just  bent  over  some  in  the  middle  but 
made  no  sound.  i 

I  must  have  knocked  the  wind  out  of  Ran. 
He  laid  still  while  the  mushroom  faces  of  the 
McKails  crowded  to  the  porch  edge.  j 

The  colored  boy  was  limping  off  by  the  1 
time  Ran  sat  up.  "Wait!"  I  called  out.  ; 
"Lemme  go  with  you.  I  '11  show  you  where's 
Dimity  Street." 

"  ToH' .'"  Mr.  McKail  said. 

But  Ran  said,  "Oh,  leave  him  go!  I  can 
wait.  But  I  '11  get  that  nigger-lover  if  it's  the 
last  thing  I  do." 

Since  I  was  not  in  spinnin'  any  more  and  '■ 
Ran  didn't  come  again  to  the  McKails',  that  : 
was  the  last  time  I'd  seen  him.  But  the  s 
McKails  were  scared.  They  said  excepting  I  i 
was  to  leave  Heyward— and  maybe  even  if  : 
I  did— he  would  get  me  sure.  ; 

I'd  never  been  in  the  stylish  part  of  Hey- 
ward till  the  night  when  Mr.  Heyward  and  , 
Chloe  were  taking  me  home  in  the  Pierce-  ; 
Arrow.  I  strained  to  get  a  sight  of  everything 
as  we  went  along.  I  know  now  those  houses  ■> 
didn't  amount  to  much,  but  to  me.  then,  they  • 
were  rich  and  splendid.  And  when  we  came  i 
to  that  columned  one,  so  large  and  yet 
slender-looking,  with  no  weight,  like  a  pale  n 
dream  in  a  dark  place,  I  must  have  spoken  ( 
right  out.  ; 

"A  hundred  years  old,"  Mr.  Heyward  J 
said.  "I  wish  Preston  Easley  would  keep  it  : 
repaired!  It's  probably  the  finest  thing  in  - 
town."  ; 

"Our  house  is  nicer,"  Chloe  said.  - 

Her  father  chuckled  and  drew  her  to  him.  ; 
"Nobody  with  taste  would  agree  with  you,"-  < 
he  said,  "but  I  do."  i 

When  we  came  to  it  the  windows  were 
lighted  up  and  it  was  squatted  there  like 
some  big,  curious,  good-natured  kind  of 
creature  with  lots  of  eyes  and  with  little 
horns  and  curlicues  on  it.  We  drove  around 
to  the  back.  On  the  kitchen  steps  was  Nasty. 
Her  pipelike  black  arms  were  akimbo.  Her 
bosom  was  deep  but  under  it  her  white  apron 
wrapped  nearly  twice  around  her  middle  and 
her  skinny  neck  with  its  wool-topped  head 
jutted  up  from  a  too-big  clean  collar. 

Nasty  pitched  herself  down  the  steps. 
"Mistah  Jih-yum!"  she  hollered.  "What'n 
this  world  you  bin  up  to?  You  knows  you 
knows  better'n  to  keep  that  baby  out  this 
late!  Ycu  knows  Miz  Heyward's  goin'  to 
snatch  me  baldheaded  if  Chloe  ain't  put 
away  up  yonder  in  that  bed  befo'  seven 
o'clock  ever'  night!" 

Mr.  Heyward  just  smiled,  opening  the  car 
door  and  lifting  Chloe  out.  "Nasturtium," 
he  said,  "this  is  Taw  Jameson."  And  he  told 
her  I  would  clean  for  them  and  do  the  yard 
and  that  I  was  to  have  dinner  and  sleep  in 
the  attic  room. 

Nasty  looked  at  me  without  expression. 
To  Chloe  she  said,  "Come  on,  Sugarfoots. 
Come  on,  let  Nasty  undo  you  in  back  an' 
you  git  right  on  up  there  into  bed.  Nasty'U 
bring  you  a  real  good  tray." 

When  I  was  left  alone  in  the  kitchen  I  sat 
down  quick.  There  were  so  many  shiny 
things,  pots  and  china  and  the  sink  and 
stove;  and  because  I  was  so  empty  the- 
wonderful  smells  of  Nasty's  fine  food  simmer- 
ing and  baking  away  made  me  feel  faint. 

When  my  head  cleared  there  was  Nasty 
in  the  door  looking  hard  at  me.  She  pointed 
to  the  sink.  She  said,  "Wash  yo'self,  white 
boy,"  and  went  off  in  the  pantry. 

Before  I  finished  with  the  towel  she  was 
back,  poking  a  coat  at  me.  It  was  high- 
collared  and  white  and  stiff  as  a  dead  man. 

"Ever'  las'  button  got  to  be  done  up," 
Nasty  said. 

"I  wear  this?"  I  asked.  "Did  Mr.  Hey- 
ward tell  you?" 


Doaii'  need  lo  (ell  inc.  Kvi-(Jenl-\y." 
ity  said,  "you  ain'L  seen  fier  yel,  l^vcn 
)  jus'  slan'  roun'  clullerin'  up  my  liiU  licu 
lodo  il  slylisli  in  litis  liousc." 

Oil  and  one  tiling  more,  Taw,"  Mrs. 
/ward  said.  "  Don'l  say  'ma'am.'  Tlie cor- 
liiin^;  is  'yes,  madam.'  Only  royalty 
Queen  oi  ICnuland,  for  example  can  be 
perly  addressed  as  'ma'am.'" 
Yes,  madam,"  I  said.  I  kepi  my  eyes 
11  ^;oin^;  over  lo  where  Mrs.  Mi'hane  was 
:lied  on  (he  boudoir  chair.  It  came  lo  me 
[  Mrs.  Mebane  was  holdinn  back  a  urin. 
enl  (|uick  wilh  my  wax  can  and  benan 
kinn  where  Mrs.  Ileyward  had  lold  inc. 
he  Moor  ri^hl  opposite  the  bedroom  door. 
Killy."  Mrs.  Mebane  said,  "does  Nasty 
'madam'?  I  )oes  she  really?  " 
or  a  second  Mrs,  Ileyward  looked  un- 
ain,  then  slu'  decided  to  hold  her  ground, 
set  her  beaut  ihil  ^leen  eyes  on  her  friend 
hat  sort  of  bla/.inn  stare  she  could  ^ive 
etimes.  "Oh,  Nasty!  Of  course  she's 
led  and  there's  nothing  to  do  alx)ul  her. 
how,  you  know  darn  well"  here  she 
led  to  her  mirror  and  lau.u:hed  in  that 
that  always  drew  jieople  to  her,  not  by 
special  gaiety  or  meaning  in  the  lauj^h- 
but  because  il  was  such  a  downriKht 
)ry  animal  sound  -"you  know,"  she 
,  "how  Jim  has  spoiled  Nasty ! " 
I  know  how  she'd  have  spoiled  .|im. 
■s  aRo,"  Mrs.  Mebane  sairi.  and  added 
ly,  "could  .lim  be  spoiled." 
Could  I  be  jealous,"  Mrs.  Ileyward  said 
1  quick  and  lau.uhinK  a^ain,  "I'd  be 
)us  of  you,  Alice." 
Pooh."  Mrs.  Mebane  said. 
.  was  farfetched,  the  idea  of  this  rich- 
ed  (mah<),t!:any  color,  il  was)  marble- 
ed  woman  being  jealous  about  a  man 
was  so  rock-bottom  satisfied  wilh  her. 
.hal  first  morning  I  "d  have  lhouf;hl  any- 
y  was  crazy  who  lold  me  she  was  forty- 
.  Mrs.  Mebane  was  only  Ihirly-three  and 
was  the  older-looking  of  those  two. 
/be  il  was  not  sleeping  enough,  taking 
lor  Mebane's  night  phone  calls  and  going 
I  him  when  there  were  no  nurses  thai 
;  her  the  look  of  a  small  spunky  bird. 


The  other  wom.in,  ilH.UKh  Ilo-\^a>^  lai  was 
as  curved  and  colored  as  wax  fruit,  and  the 
bright  sharp  notes  of  the  sin«mK  voice  hIu- 
had  were  in  her  talkinx. 

"Well,  Alice,  what  Ih  it?"  Mrn.  Ileyward 
said  next.  "OI  course-  there 'k  a  reawm  for 
your  coming  al  this  hour.  What  do  you  feel 
you  must  tell  me?"  When  Mrs.  Mebane 
didn't  answer  right  off  she  went  on.  "I 
know.  Last  night.  The  I lawksworilm  were 
plainly  annoyed,  and  the  Kawleys.  Hul  why? 
Shouldn't  I  have  mentioned  iny  career?  Is 
it  heinous  that  I've  sung  In-foie  crowned 
heads  to  I  heir  Majesties  in  London  and  lo 
Queen  Maud  al  Christ  iania?  Or  are  women 
111  the  gallant  Soulh  supiiosed  lo  do  notluHK 
but  give  birth?" 

]^01i,  hush  up,"  Mrs.  Mebane  said  mildly. 

"  Well,  why  do  they  always  Ix-g  me  lo  sing 
if  they  don't  like  il  ?" 

"Y()u  know  they  like  it."  Mrs.  Mebane 
said.  "And  you  know  you  sounded  glorious 
last  night.  You're  always  Ix-sl  al  the 
Kasleys'.  The  acoustics  might  have  been 
arranged  just  for  your  voice." 

"Don't  change  the  subject!"  Mrs.  Iley- 
ward said.  "What  did  I  do?" 

"N()tltini>.  Hul  Kitty  these  people  know 
in  their  hearts  their  fathers  or  grandfathers 
were  justly  licked  by  the  ^'ankees.  They 
know  that  maybe  they  should  have  lost 
everything  but  the  point  is.  they  did  lose 
everything.  And  yet  they  feel  they  are  still  of 
some  importance  you  know,  the  drojiping 
petals  of  a  civilization's  flower.  They  feel, 
without  having  traveled,  without  having 
had  decent  educations,  most  of  them,  that 
they  are  the  really  cultivated  people  of  this 
land.  Il  just  naturally  makes  'em  nervous, 
hearing  a  good-looking  Chicago  woman  talk 
about  conservatories  and  classical  prizes  and 
the  capitals  of  the  world! 

"And  another  thing,"  Mrs.  Mebane  went 
on.  "Maybe  il  wasn't  just  cultural  nervous- 
ness wilh  Preston  and  Laura.  Did  I,  or  not, 
detect  an  open  covetousness  in  your  ap- 
preciation of  their  house?  " 

"What  if  you  did?" 

"Mustn't  scowl.  Kilty!  Wrinkles!"  Mrs. 
Mebane  laughed  and  stood  up.  "What  I 
came  lo  see  you  about,"  she  said,  "isChloc." 


J    o    I      II      .     \  I 


7  I 


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at  the  last  minute  and— If  ait!  Wail!  Don't  hang 
up!  I  didn't  say  no,  I  tias  just  asking  a  question.' 


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72 

sometimes  pierce  me  with  guilt  and  sorrow 
for  the  way  things  were.  And  when  the  worst 
year  came  for  me,  that  time  when  escape 
from  the  Heyward  house  and  a  little  forget- 
fulness  were  the  only  things  that  kept  me 
going.  Ola-Mae  was  there  to  help  me. 

Had  I  known  what  the  years  would  bring 
maybe  I  would  have  listened  to  Mrs.  McKail 
and  not  gone  back  to  the  Heywards'  that 
September  night.  But  could  I  have  understood 
it  all — not  just  the  facts  of  what  would  hap- 
pen, but  how  I  would  come  to  feel  about  it — 
I  would  have  gone  back  to  that  house  any- 
way. As  it  was  I  walked  in  ignorance  with 
my  thoughts  all  adream  and  my  body  astir 
with  its  ripening. 

I  cut  across  Magnolia  Street,  coming  onto 
the  Heywards'  grounds  at  the  back  and 
skirling  round  Nasty's  small  house.  It  was 
here  that  Nasty  gave  counsel  to  her  kin  and 
fed  them  from  the  Heywards'  larder,  and 
here  she  received  the  husband  who  had 
wandered  off  but  who  would  sometimes  re- 
turn, secretly,  like  a  lover.  In  the  daytime 
Nasty's  house  looked  like  some  cozy  toy  with 
the  sunflowers  and  white  stones  she  had  fixed 
all  round  the  door,  but  now  I  saw  it  for  the 
place  of  mystery  it  really  was. 

I  was  right  by  the  Heywards'  back  porch 
when  it  came  on  me  again,  that  feeling  of 
someone  following  me.  And  this  time  there 
was  a  swift  thudding  of  feet  behind  me  and 
two  hard  arms  pinned  my  own  to  my  sides. 

"Now,  you  smart, "  a  voice  said  in  my  ear, 
and  with  all  my  might  I  wrenched  away  to 
face  Ran  Atcheson. 

He  came  on  swinging  at  me,  but  I  moved 
backward  up  the  steps  and  he  missed.  He 
sprang  up  beside  me  on  the  porch,  queerly 
light  and  catlike  for  all  his  hard  thickness. 
Dark  as  it  was,  I  could  see  his  teeth  bared. 

"  Yella,  too,  ain't  you?"  he  said. 

"Come  down  the  street,"  I  said.  "I  can't 
fight  here." 

"You're  goin'  to  git  your  beatin'  here," 
Ran  said.  "I  tracked  you  from  McKails' 
and" — he  swung  again— "you're  goin'  to  git 
it  now." 

My  head  snapped  sideways  and  I  fell 
against  the  water  cooler.  I  righted  myself  and 
grabbed  at  Ran  and  we  thrashed  down  and 
rolled  over  the  boards.  Blood  was  running 
into  my  eyes  and  my  knuckles  were  bloody. 
I  had  just  got  on  top  of  him  when  the  electric 
light  flooded  all  over  us.  The  kitchen  door 
crashed  open  and  there  was  Mr.  Heyward  in 
a  nightshirt,  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand. 

"Good  work,"  he  said  and  Ran,  who 
couldn't  see  which  of  us  the  gun  was  pointed 
at.  reached  up  as  if  he  had  still  to  struggle 
with  me. 

"Mister,"  Ran  said,  panting  hard,  "I  just 
caught  this  feller — was  snoopin'  all  around — 
was  fixin'  to  break  in  here!" 

"Indeed?"  said  Mr.  Heyward,  and  he 
stepped  round  so  Ran  could  see  the  pistol 
nose.  "Let  him  up  now.  Taw." 

Between  wanting  to  laugh  at  the  look  on 
Ran's  face  and  fearing  he  would  faint,  I 
couldn't  speak. 

As  Ran  and  I  got  up,  Mr.  Heyward  said, 
"Since  Taw  lives  here  it's  plain  which  one 
of  you  was  breaking  in." 

"Neither  one,  sir,"  I  said.  "We — it's  just 
an  old  quarrel  getting  settled.  I'm  sorry  you 
got  disturbed.  Mr.  Heyward,  sir." 

"Pray  don't  mention  it,"  said  Mr.  Hey- 
ward, then,  "Dammit,  boy,  keep  your 
brawls  away  from  my  roof!"  But  his  voice 
had  a  curious  edge  of  kindness. 

At  the  name  of  "Heyward"  Ran  gave  a 
start.  He  said,  "I'll  vow  ol'  Taw'll  behave, 
sir!  Taw's  a  good  boy— just  kinda  hot- 
headed sometimes! "  He  reached  out  as  if  to 
clap  my  shoulder,  but  our  eyes  met  and  his 
hand  fell  back. 

"Who  are  you?"  Mr.  Heyward  asked. 

Ran's  little  eyes  blinked.  "Jones,"  he  said. 
"Name  of  Randolph  Jones." 

"Taw,"  Mr.  Heyward  said,  "tell  me  this 
man's  name." 

Ran  looked  at  me  out  of  his  gray  face,  but 
I  remembered  the  Negro  boy  and  I  just 
looked  back  at  him.  Finally  he  mumbled  out 
the  truth. 

Mr.  Heyward  thought  for  a  while,  then, 
"You're  an  overseer,"  he  said. 


January,  1953  I 

Ran  pushed  his  stubby  hands  through  his 
hair.  "My  room  ain't  never  fell  behind!"  he 
cried.  "I've  done  got  more  slubber  into 
thread  for  littler  time  and  money  than  you 
ever  had  before,  sir." 

"I  never  discharge  an  able  man."  Mr. 
Heyward  said.  "But  you  are  the  exception. 
Call  for  your  money  tomorrow  afternoon." 

As  Ran  was  hating  Mr.  Heyward,  so  he 
stood  despising  Ran.  And  with  each  one 
what  had  just  happened  was  not  the  impor- 
tant thing.  This  was  only  an  accident  which 
showed  forth  feelings  that  were  old  in  each 
of  them.  Ran  hated  Mr.  Heyward  not  so 
much  for  firing  him  but  for  having  the  power 
to  do  it,  for  simply  being  James  Heyward 
who  had  inherited  a  small  mill  and  who  had 
been  able  to  turn  it  into  a  big  one.  For  Mr. 
Heyward,  Ran  had  shrunk  down  to  being  j 
just  a  sample — a  sample  out  of  a  human 
group  in  which,  according  to  Mr.  Heyward's 
ideas,  you  would  find  the  largest  number  of 
liars  and  toadies.  Maybe  Mr.  Heyward's 
ideas  were  honest-born  from  his  own  ex- 
perience. But  he  would  never  wonder  if  he 
or  others  like  himself  might  not  be  partly  to 
blame.  He  had  his  private  set  of  rules  which 
he  would  always  follow,  even  against  his  own 
fortune,  and  this  made  him  good  and  made 
him  a  man  Ran  would  never  know  much 
about.  But  there  was  a  whole  heaven  and 
hell  of  things  Mr.  Heyward  could  never 
know  about.  I  knew  this,  all  at  once,  stand- 
ing near  him. 

Mr.  Heyward  never  tried  to  find  out  any- 
thing about  my  fight  with  Ran.  He  just 
looked  at  my  hands  that  night  and  said, 
"You  were  hired  to  help  us.  Do  you  think 
those  will  do  us  any  good  tomorrow?  "  Then 
he  waited  on  me  himself  while  I  bound  up  my 
knuckles,  working  patiently  in  the  kitchen 
till  they  and  the  cuts  on  my  forehead  were  > 
neatly  dressed. 

I  didn't  sleep  much  that  night.  All  around  ] 
my  window  the  tops  of  drying  vines  scratched  i 
and  whispered  and  airy  gusts  came  flying  J 
like  spirits  into  the  dark  space  over  my  bed.  j 
Toward  morning  I  dreamed  of  a  voice.  It  J 
kept  pouring  its  desolate  sound  into  my  ears  i 
till  I  wascrazy  with  grief  for  the  sadness  of  it. 
Then  I  found  myself  sittirig  up,  still  hearing 
its  echoes  in  my  waking  ear.  I  listened,  not 
breathing,  but  the  house  was  silent.  I  had  i 
just  decided  it  was  my  own  voice,  sleep-  j 
talking,  that  had  wakened  me,  when  the  low  j 
wail  came  up  on  the  air  into  my  room.  It 
wasn't  loud,  but  it  was  full  of  troubled  sor-  , 
row,  and  edged  with  fear.  The  voice  of  it  was  1 
not  like  Chloe's— not  a  voice  you'd  ever  con-  .1 
nect  with  any  child— yet  right  away,  with  i 
goose  flesh  pricking  over  me,  I  knew  it  was 
Chloe  who  had  made  this  sound. 

It  was  getting  light,  so  I  hurried  my  clothes  . 
on  and  went  downstairs.  I  listened  at  the  . 
door  of  Chloe's  room,  which  was  right  under  ] 
mine,  but  she  must  have  been  crying  in  her  -| 
sleep  and  never  wakened.  All  I  could  hear 
was  the  silky  swish  her  window  curtains  . 
made.  ^ 

The  light  was  still  gray  when  I  got  out  in 
the  yard.  I  hadn't  been  there  long,  studying  , 
the  lilac  clump  and  how  I  should  prune  it, 
when  I  saw  the  child,  like  a  skinny  brown 
ghost,  on  the  slope  up  west  of  the  house.  It 
was  Peter  Mebane.  He  came  running  on  ! 
silent  feet.  j 

When  he  reached  the  yard  he  came  straight 
to  the  side  of  the  sun  porch.  Here  he 
stopped,  throwing  back  his  head  to  stare 
at  the  windows  of  Chloe's  room.  He  never 
noticed  me,  half  hidden  by  lilac,  and  I 
started  to  speak.  But  there  was  something 
in  his  turned-up  face  that  stopped  my  tongue. 
My  eyes  followed  his  to  see  Chloe  climbing  \ 
down  from  the  sill  of  her  window  onto  a 
balustrade  that  ran  the  length  of  the  sun  j 
porch— a  good  twelve  feet  above  ground.  I  i 
dared  not  speak  out  now  or  even  move.  All  I  i 
could  do  was  watch  her  while  she  went  to-  i 
ward  Peter  as  directly  as  if  he  had  called  her. 

She  skimmed  along  the  balustrade  and  her  l 
silk  pajamas  looked  no  bigger  than  a  scrap. 
At  the  corner  of  the  porch  she  crouched  and,  | 
like  a  kitten,  leaped  into  the  wistaria  lattice  i 
and  scrambled  down.  Peter  reached  up  and  [ 
held  her  round  the  waist  for  her  last  leap  to 
the  ground. 


you 


losi'd 


"Listen,"  lie  said,  "Chloe,  listen.  We'll 
lave  another  picnic!  And  I  won't  let  old 
iohby  .Inst  ice  come  or  any  ol  'cm  if  y^i, 
lou  t  want  'em."  He  was  still  holding  to  her 
ind  iier  imwinkinK  l)Ine  eyes  blazed  into  his 
ace.  "Listen,  if  yon  want  me  to  I'll  (i^;ht 
lim  Hobby,  .jusl  tell  me  wh.il-a" 
vant." 

"All  I  want,"  Chloe  said,  throunii 
ceth,  "is  I  want  to  urow  up!" 

Peter  let  no  of  her  as  if  she'd  knockcf 
ireatli  ont  of  hint. 

She  looked  at  him.  surprised.  "They  could 
ave  a  million  picnics,  if  we  were  «rown  n|)," 
he  said,  "and  we'd  never  even  care.  I  wish 
;e'd  be  nrown  before  lunchtime.  IXm't  you 
ish  so,  I'eter?  " 

1  le  made  no  answer. 

"When  we're  urown  I'm  fjoinn  to  have  a 
)l  of  palaces."  Chk)e  said,  "and  you'll  visit 
le.  All  the  time.  Or  you  can  take  h.ilf  of 
■m  and  wi''ll  visit  each  oilier. " 

Peter  sh(M)k  his  head.  "  W  hen  we're  i;rown. 
ou'll  K<>  away." 

"No."  Chk)e  said,  '"cause  I'm  noinn  to 
X  our  house  into  a  iialace.  with  Rold  floors 
;id  all.  I'll  never,  nerer  tjive  it  up.  So  we'll 
ay  here  the  most.  1  tell  you  what  le's  ^ive 
1  the  other  palaces  to 
le  |)oor ! " 

Peter  was  scowling 
3W.  "You  talk  crazy." 
:  said. 


And 


you  re  mean ! 


lyinn  I'll  leave  you !" 

"You  will,"  Peter 
lid.  And  his  eyes 
irkened.  "They'll 
ke  you  away,  or 
)u'll  be  ^^one,  or  dead. 

something." 
Chloe's  doubled-up 
its  struck  him  in  the 
ce.  He  staKKcred  back 
id  for  a  second  she 
:K)d  blind-eyed  and 
jmblinn.  Then  she 
w  the  mark  of  her 
Dws  under  Peter's 
litened  cheekbone, 
le  hid  her  eyes,  crying 
rribly. 

Peter  reached  his 
nd  onto  her  hair, 
ley,"  he  said.  But 
e  shook  him  off,  duck- 
X  her  head.  He  knelt 
w^n.  peering  up  into 
r  face.  "Stop,"  he 
Rged.    "Chloe  — it 

m't  come  true,  what  I  said.  I  won't  lei  it. 
u  hear  me?  I  won't  let  it  — I  promise!" 
She  quieted,  peeking  at  him.  , 
"Look— you  promise  too."  he  said,  stand- 
l  up.  "You  promise  not  to  go  off.  and  I 
amise  not  to  let  you.  O.K.?" 
Chloe  sniffled,  and  then  drew  a  long  sigh. 
).K.."  she  said. 

Peter  fished  in  his  pocket  and  brought  out 
little  pasteboard  box  stuck  full  of  holes, 
lere.  you  can  have  him."  he  said. 
"It's  Judge  Parsons!"  Chloe  cried,  and 
r  face  turned  pink.  "Oh,  Peter !  For  keeps? ' ' 
"Forever."  answered  Peter. 
He  took  the  lid  off  the  box  and  for  a  long 
)ment  both  children  gazed  at  the  frog  in- 
e.  He  started  to  leap  and  Peter  slapped 
;  top  back  on,  then  slid  it  along  till  they 
ild  peep  into  the  box.  Chloe  began  to 
igh. 

luDGE-Y,"  Chloe  said.  "Just  lookit  Judge 
rsons!"  and  Peter  laughed  too.  "Lookit 
1  now!"  Chloe  shrieked.  "When  he  blinks 
i  puffs  hisself  out— that's  the  judge  sing- 
:  in  church  last  Sunday ! " 
'You  reg'n."  asked  Peter,  "you  reg'n  the 
Ige  could  arrest  a  frog?  I  mean  for  looking 
t  like  him? " 

'Poo-oor  li'l'  ol'  Judge-y,"  moaned  Chloe. 
"hey  goin'  to  send  a  big  p'liceman  for  to 
j1  'im  to  county  jail!" 
5he  held  her  sides  and  Peter  shook  so  he 
1  to  close  the  box.  They  leaned  together, 
;ir  legs  wobbly  with  the  passion  of  their 
ghter,  while  the  first  sun  glimmered  onto 
:ir  hair  and  every  bough  and  green-gold 
f  tossed  up  in  the  wind  around  them. 


Ilie  Return 


Itn  Klizithflh  Mfl-'urlHiul 

When  winter's  icy  tears  freeze  the 
world  and  all  our  Mays, 
And  the  last  bird  throat  is  frozen, 
the  warm  song  sung, 
Remember  how  it  was  in  our  green, 
leaf-moving  days 
When  our  hearts  and  my 
girl-round  arms  were  young. 

And  if  you  should  mourn  that  time 
of  blossoming  flow, 
Call  our  child's  name  :  from  youth, 
youth  will  return ; 
Its  leaves  not  dead,  but  fresh 
beneath  the  snow 
And  kinder  there,  as  birds  and 
thin  deer  learn. 


!•    \    I)    I     I      s  •  II 

Away  iKfore  ThanksnivinK  Mr.  I  Icy  ward 
'ad  to  buy  himself  another  auto.  No  H<M,ner 
h^Kl  I  learned  to  run  th.-  Pierce  Arrow  than 
Mrs.  I  ley  ward  had  me  all  drtwd  out  m 
cai)  and  gloves  from  Altman's,  New  Vr.rk 
City,  and  driving  her  and  Chl.x..  in  all  direc- 
tions. We  had  the  Pierce,  and  Mr.  Meyward 
would  lake  himself  to  the  mills  or  the  ^-olf 
club  in  his  Olds  coupe. 

On  certain  days  I  t(K)k  Chl(K,-  out  to 
female  College  and  called  to  fetch  her  home 
again.  Miss  Annie  Paisley's  Private  C  lasscH 
<>n  y  went  through  second  grade  and  they 
didn  t  send  Chloe  to  the  public  sch(K)l  "Hut 
next  year,  she  should  go,"  Mr.  Ileyward  al- 
ways said,  and  Mrs.  Ileyward  wc.ultl  hum 
and  kM)k  olf.  |)alting  her  hair. 

I  iiLOK  had  her  lessons  with  "Aunt  Um" 
Anderson.  Mr.  Ileyward's  elderly  cousin 
who.  until  they  retired  her.  had  Ix-en  presi- 
dent of  the  college.  The  mountainous  prison 
of  her  old  worn-out  llesli  was  stuffed  into  a 
wheel  chair,  but  at  the  lop  of  ii,  under  the 
Ihm  (lags  of  her  ill-combed  gray  hair,  her 
eyis  glared  out  free  and  furious.  It  went 
away  back.  I  guess,  the  fury  in  her,  back  to 
the  time  of  being  "the  ugly  one"  of  the 
Ileyward  girls,  the  one 
who  wanted  to  write  a 
thesis  about  some 
wicked  Creek  woman 
called  Sapiiho.  Well, 
she  had  written  it;  and 
in  the  despair  of  her 
heart  and  I  he  hunger  of 
her  big  unbeautiful 
body  she  had  married 
"I loot  "  Anderson,  the 
only  Ileyward  "beau" 
cold-blooded  enough 
and  poor  enough  to  be 
attracted  by  her  small 
share  of  the  Hey  ward 
property.  It  was  dur- 
ing the  eighties  that 
they  turned  the  old 
"seminary"  where  she 
taught  into  a  college 
and  she  became  its  pres- 
ident. 

I    would  bring 
Chloe's  books  and  lay 
them  on  her  knees  and 
she  would  say,  "Come, 
buglet,  get  to  it.  You 
may  as   well  learn 
something    in  these 
dreadful    hours  we 
spend  together." 
"You're  not  dreadful,"  Chloe  said  once. 
"  I  didn't  say  I  was.  And  I  say  you're  a 
bonny  girl."  her  teacher  answered,  "but  you 
now  represent  my  only  intellectual  contact 
and  you  are  eight  years  old.  Were  1  young.  I 
would  be  challenged  by  your  possibilities,  for 
mark  me.  you  have  them.  Or,  had  I  reached 
senility,  we  might  both  quite  simply  enjoy 
ourselves.  But  you  see  how  it  is,  my  dear.  We 
are  both  helpless  and  we  are  both  bored." 

Because  of  my  being  so  much  away  from 
the  house  they  got  Ora  Jenks  to  come  every 
day  to  help  Nasty.  Ora  was  a  fat  light-brown 
girl  who  did  laundry  for  several  families. 
Mrs.  Heyward  just  made  up  her  mind  to  pay 
more  money  than  anyone  else  could  afford. 
Ora's  other  ladies  were  hornet-mad.  At  first 
Mr.  Heyward  didn't  approve  of  the  new  ar- 
rangement. But  Mrs.  Heyward  pointed  out 
how  my  doing  all  the  errands  gave  her  the 
time  she  needed  for  looking  after  business 
matters  and  for  her  composing,  which  was  so 
important. 

She  did  write  music,  working  for  hours  at  a 
desk  and  the  little  extra  piano  in  the  back 
parlor.  Mr.  Heyward  would  have  been  hard 
pressed  to  tell  the  difference  between  Yankee 
Doodle  and  Hearts  and  Flowers  and  his  real 
pleasure  in  her  singing  was  the  way  she 
looked  when  she  did  it— wonderful— with 
her  throat  arched,  and  her  red  mouth  kind 
of  curled  back  and  her  eyes  flashing.  He  took 
her  word  for  it  that  her  composition  was  ex- 
cellent, and  he  was  proud  about  it  though  he 
could  not  enter  into  it. 

With  her  interest  in  business  it  was  differ- 
ent. Sometimes  she  would  mention  a  stock 
they  might  buy  because  of  a  thing  she'd  read 


\i  ( 


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74 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


in  the  paper,  saying  how  she  had  looked  up 
the  company  in  a  big  book  called  Moody's, 
or  she  would  talk  over  the  George  Street 
property,  and  then  the  solid  pleasure  of  good 
partnership  would  be  mixed  with  her  hus- 
band's delight  in  her.  Often  he  would  laugh, 
calling  the  George  Street  block  of  houses  her 
"bracelet."  This  was  because,  the  Christmas 
before,  she  had  begged  to  have  it  for  her  own 
instead  of  the  jewelry  he'd  had  in  mind  for 
her.  She  could  have  bought  herself  a  bracelet 
with  just  what  she  got  from  the  rents  in  one 
year.  She  had  a  big  turnover  in  tenants  and 
could  keep  raising  her  prices.  The  mills  were 
bringing  so  many  new  people  in,  there  were 
always  those  who  had  nowhere  to  lay  their 
heads. 

The  first  thing  like  a  quarrel  I  ever 
heard  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Heyward  was 
when  he  found  out  exactly  how  much  she  had 
made,  and  he  made  her  promise  to  lower  the 
rents.  She  said  she  could  see  no  reason,  just 
because  the  town  was  named  Heyward,  for 
him  to  imagine  he  was  Sir  Galahad. 

"My  imagination,"  Mr.  Heyward  said, 
"is  scarce.  But  if  I  had  no  other  reason  I 
would  not,  for  your  sake,  and  Chloe's,  allow 
our  name  to  become  associated  with  bald- 
faced,  flagrant  profiteering." 

She  talked  to  him  more  and  more  about 
how  they  ought  to  have  the  Easley  house. 
"This  place  just  isn't  appropriate,  darling!" 
she  said  one  day.  "Look  at  your  mills.  You're 
the  biggest  man  in  Hey^vard,  and  " 

"You  must  never,"  said  Mr.  Heyward, 
"express  that  view  to  Johnson  Rains." 

"Pooh!"  Mrs.  Heyward  tossed  her  head. 
"You  own  a  quarter  of  Rains  stock.  He  was 
darn  glad  to  get  your  money  at  the  start." 

"I'm  damned  glad  he  did,"  Mr.  Heyward 
said. 

"  Well,  what's  the  use  of  taking  in  with  one 
hand,  Jim,  if  you  throw  out  with  the  other? 
You  know  you've  lent  Preston  Easley  more 
money  than  you'll  ever  get  back  on  that 
mortgage.  Unless  we  buy  the  house  from 
him." 

"Kitty— you  can't  buy  a  man's  house  if 
he  won't  sell." 

"But  if  a  man  had  to  pay  up  his  mortgage," 
Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "he  jolly  well  would 
sell!" 

At  first  it  puzzled  me— her  being  so  taken 
up  with  that  house.  Because  she  didn't  really 
know  how  beautiful  and  curious  a  thing  it 
was.  When  all  the  red  men  had  been  killed  on 
the  land— or  pushed  off  of  it— and  the  black 
men  brought  in  chains  to  work  it— then  the 
white  shafts  and  petaled  rooftop  had  soared 
up  out  of  it.  And  after  a  century,  with  all  the 
blood  and  sweat  well  soaked  down  out  of 
sight,  the  body  of  the  house  gleamed  on  the 
earth,  brought  there  by  men's  mortal  appe- 
tites, and  showing  through  the  whole  space 
and  shape  of  it  how  men  are  kin  to  something 
perfect  and  immortal. 

Around  Halloween  Mrs.  Heyward  decided 
I  was  "trained"  and  invited  people  for  a 
dinner  party  before  the  golf-club  dance. 
Though  it  was  Saturday,  Chloe  was  shipped 
off  to  "Aunt  Lx)u's"  for  the  whole  day.  But 
when  Mr.  Heyward  said  he'd  get  lunch  down- 
town she  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  By  noon  she 
had  Nasty  making  his  favorite  com  pone 
and  everything  else  he  liked.  She  wore  her 
best  lace  dressing  gown  to  the  table  and  I 
hadn't  taken  off  the  soup  plates  before  she 
began  about  the  Easley  house. 

Mr  .  HEYWARD  put  down  hisspoon.  "Kitty," 
he  said.  "I  am  perfectly  satisfied  with  our 
own  house.  If  you  are  not,  when  the  war  is 
over  I  will,  as  I  have  told  you,  build  you  a 
house;  any  kind  you  want.  Now— let  me  say 
that  I  love  you,  that  you  look  entrancing, 
and"— he  took  a  bite  of  corn  pone— "that 
Nasty  could  not  have  done  better  by  you. 
But  I  will  not  foreclose  my  mortgage  against 
Preston  Easley." 

"And  in  the  end  he'll  lose  the  house  any- 
way," Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "He's  bound  to. 
What  income  have  he  and  Laura?  Not 
enough  to  buy  all  that  ocean  of  liquor  he 
drinks!  Oh,  Jim.  to  keep  a  shiftless  man  in 
the  place  that  Chloe  ought  to  have  is 
wrong— and  you  know  it!" 

Mr.  Heyward  looked  up  mildly.  "Why 
must  Chloe  have  Preston's  house?  "  he  asked. 


"Because  it's  the  best!  It's  the  real  thing— 
what  she  might  have  inherited." 

"Preston  inherited  it."  Mr.  Heyward  said. 

"Well,  he  doesn't  deserve  it!  Why— if  we 
gave  him  a  good  price  he  could  pay  off  all  his 
debts.  Don't  you  see  how  " 

The  doorbell  rang,  and  when  I  went  to 
answer,  it  was  Mrs.  Easley. 

"How-do,  Taw,"  she  said,  and  walked 
right  past  me.  Her  felt  hat  was  just  banged -on 
to  her  head  but  even  so,  and  with  her  tweed- 
covered  arms  sticking  out  so  bitterly  thin 
from  the  sides  of  her  suit,  she  looked  stylish. 
I  had  to  bring  in  the  dessert  and  when  I  got 
to  the  dining  room  she  was  at  table,  eating 
Mrs.  Heyward's  pone.  "Well,  Jim,"  she  said, 
"I  was  determined  to  be  the  first  to  bring 
you -all  the  news." 

With  extra  courtesy,  because  he  did  not 
really  like  her,  Mr.  Heyward  said,  "Won't 
you  have  some  dessert,  Laura?"  and  as  she 
shook  her  head,  "What  news,  then?" 

"You're  going  to  buy  our  house,"  she  told 
him.  "Did  you  know  that.  Jim?  I  heard  it 
downtown." 

"Why,  Laura!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and 
the  color  came  up  in  Mr.  Heyward's  face 

"Will  you  sell  it?"  he  asked 

"  I  have  to  sleep  somewhere,"  Mrs.  Easley 
said,  "and  anyway,  it's  Preston's." 

"Would  he  like  to  sell?"  asked  Mr.  Hey- 
ward. 

"Oh,"  Mrs.  Easley  said,  "would  he  have 
any  choice  in  the  matter?" 

Mr.  Heyward  got  up  stifiiy.  "I  don't 
understand  this  ridiculous  conversation, 

Laura,  so  if  you  will  excuse  me  I'll  see 

you  and  Press  this  evening." 

"She  insulted  you,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said 
when  Mrs.  Easley  had  gone. 

Mr.  Heyward  said,  "The  house  is  Pres- 


ton's. I  can't  take  away  his  house.  He's  never 
done  an  unfriendly  thing  to  me." 

"Oh,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "Oh."  And  she 
fell  silent.  As  soon  as  Mr.  Heyward  went 
out— and  she  was  very  gay  and  loving,  tell- 
ing him  good-by— she  was  at  the  phone,  call- 
ing up  the  florist.  When  the  tall  roses  came, 
about  a  bushel  of  them,  deep  red  and  heavy 
sweet,  she  directed  how  I  should  bank  them 
on  tables  all  around  the  sun  porch.  Except 
for  this  she  spent  the  whole  afternoon  in  her 
bedroom.  When  she  began  dressing  she  called 
for  Ora. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Ora  got  back  to 
the  kitchen.  She  came  in  popeyed.  "Mmn— 
n-n—unh!"  she  said,  and  she  gave  a  hootchy- 
kootchy  roll  to  her  big  hips.  "  I  gots  to  git  me 
some  uh  dat!  Ain'  nothin'  in  pants  won'  bus' 
hisself  out  when  he  smell  dat  stuff  she  dabble 
backa  her  eahs  an'  down  inside  her  dress.  Is 
you  seed  dat  dress?  Nasty!  Is  you?" 

Nasty  didn't  answer  and  Ora  leaned  her 
brown  face  nearer  to  Nasty's  black  ear. 
" How  come  she  bait  de  trap  so  heavy? "  Ora 
said.  "Ain'  lie  do  everything  all  the  time  jus' 
like  she  want?" 

Before  I  saw  her  the  Mebanes  had  arrived. 
They  came  in  with  Mrs.  Mebane's  curly  hair 
all  blown  and  the  doctor's  face,  even  his  large 
forehead,  turned  pink  by  the  cool  air.  Mrs. 
Mebane  had  a  new  gray  silk.  I  was  going  off 
with  their  things  when  Mrs.  Mebane  gave  a 
soft  little  whistle,  like  a  boy,  and  nudged  the 
doctor.  Mrs.  Heyward  had  come  to  the  top 
of  the  stairs.  I  had  never  seen— nor  at  that 
time  even  read  about— a  woman  who  was 
like  she  was  just  then.  Besides  the  way  she 
looked  there  was  something  she  did,  inside 
herself,  by  her  own  will.  I  could  feel  her  do- 
ing it,  and  though  I  reasoned  she  couldn't 
change  the  true  nature  of  things— including 


herself— still,  whatever  it  was  she  did,  this 
will  of  hers  had  a  queer  effect.  You  wanted 
to  believe  she  was  wonderful. 

I  don't  know  how  long  we  stood  looking 
up  at  her,  the  Mebanes  and  I.  Her  dress, 
colored  like  wine  and  blood,  draped  under 
the  hips.  It  had  floating  stuff  at  the  top  which 
fell  away  from  her  rich  fair  arms  and  barely 
covered  her  white  bosom.  Pointing  down  be- 
tween her  breasts  was  a  glittering  necklace 
and  this  made  her  shoulders,  her  hair,  all  of 
her  flesh,  seem  soft  and  warm.  Not  often  in 
his  life  would  a  man  see  a  ripeness  so  perfect 
and  so  cunningly  set  forth. 

Mr.  Heyward  came  out  of  his  bedroom  and 
Mrs.  Heyward  held  out  her  hand  to  him.  The 
toddy  she  had  sent  for  while  she  dressed  had 
added  its  glow  to  her  face;  but  the  deep  look 
she  gave  her  husband  was  of  a  sort  to  make 
him  feel  that  the  glow,  and  all  the  splendor 
of  her  clothes  and  her  body,  were  because  of 
him  and  for  him.  He  drew  her  hand  through 
his  arm  and,  solid  as  he  was,  kind  of  floated 
down  to  the  hall. 

OuRiNG  the  hubbub  of  the  Parsons'  coming 
I  noticed  Doctor  Mebane  had  gone  halfway 
up  the  stairs.  Chloe  was  crouched  on  the 
other  side  of  the  second-floor  banister  with 
one  bare  foot  poked  through.  The  doctor 
reached  up  and  pulled  at  her  toe.  "Where 
are  your  slippers?"  he  said. 

"If  I  get  them,"  Chloe  said,  "will  you 
stay  here?" 

The  doctor  nodded.  "And  your  bathrobe." 

Chloe  was  back  in  a  flash.  The  doctor 
wrapped  her  robe  around  her  and  they  sat 
down  together  on  the  top  step. 

"Good  heavens!"  Mrs.  Heyward  looked 
up.  "Why,  Donald!  And  you  a  doctor— get- 
ting that  child  out  of  bed!" 

Doctor  Mebane  cocked  his  eyebrow. 
"Well,  Kitty,"  he  said,  and  the  arrow-glance 
of  his  gray  eye  flew  down,  "one  soon  learns 
that  with  your  daughter— one  must  seize 
one's  opportunities." 

The  doctor  came  on  down  and  I  was  sent 
to  hurry  Chloe  into  bed.  "Golly ! "  she  said. 
"Did  you  see  mummy?  Did  you  ever  know 
she  was  that  pretty.  Taw?  Oh,  now  I  wish— 
I  wish  she  had  only  just  bomed  me  tonight." 

"Why,  you're  the  girl  wants  to  be  an  old 
grownup,"  I  said. 

"Well,  I  know,"  Chloe  said,  "but  it's 
not  ez-zackly  that  way.  It's— well,  some- 
times I  just  get  afraid,  you  know." 

"Of  what?" 

"That  I— that  I  won't  be  grown.  That  I 
just  won't  get  there!" 

"Fiddlesticks,"  I  said.  But  I  wished  some- 
body could  have  kissed  her  good  night. 

In  the  dining  room,  before  the  Easleys 
came,  Mrs.  Heyward  explained  the  seating 
to  Mr.  Heyward. 

"You'll  have  to  have  Mrs.  Parsons,"  she 
said,  "but  Alice  can  comfort  you  on  your 
left.  I'll  take  on  Preston.  Even  I  wouldn't 
punish  Preston  so  hard  as  to  make  him  sit 
near  Laura ! " 

During  cocktails  she  was  gay  and  teasing 
with  everyone  around  the  living-room  fire, 
and  when  the  Easleys  came  she  took  them 
each  by  the  hand  to  draw  them  into  the 
circle. 

She  did  not  let  go  of  Mr.  Easley.  She  stood 
smiling  and  talking,  as  if  carelessly,  still 
touching  him.  Mr.  Easley's  head,  away  up 
on  his  elegant  body,  would  put  you  in  mind 
of  all  that  band  who  fell  out  of  heaven  with 
Lucifer.  His  face  never  showed  anything  he 
didn't  want  it  to  show.  He  glanced  down  at 
Mrs.  Heyward's  hand  on  his  own;  and  then, 
with  an  almost  lazy  motion,  he  lifted  his 
cocktail  glass  and  looked  her  in  the  eye. 
Really?  said  his  face.  Well— we  must  certainly 
look  into  this! 

He  had  held  on  pretty  well  to  the  outside 
shape  of  the  Easleys.  But  there  was  a  painted 
picture,  famous  in  "Heyward,  of  his  Great- 
grandfather Ellison,  and  it  showed  a  limber- 
ness  in  the  man  who  had  sat  for  it.  He  had  no 
look  at  all,  like  Mr.  Easley,  that  the  narrow- 
ness of  him  might  be  hollow.  Before  there 
was  any  town,  when  only  a  church  stood 
where  the  Heyward  and  Easley  lands  met, 
Ellison  Easley  could  say  his  field  hands  had 
never  even  seen  a  whip.  And  there  never  was 
(Continued  on  Page  78) 


THIS  is  the  pretty,  striped  percale  apron  all  members  of 
the  Journal  Beauty  Workshop  wear  when  they  want  to  protect 
themselves  from  splattering  shampoos,  make-up  spots  and  powder 
smudges!  Efficient  and  flattering,  the  apron  neatly  minimizes 
your  waist  as  well  as  your  work!  One  enthusiastic  Journal 
reader  said  if  she  could  buy  the  pattern  she  would  make 
six  in  all  fabrics  and  colors  to  take  her  through  a  variety  of 
activities — including  evening  entertainment  at  home!  For  the 
pattern,  send  25c  to  Reference  Library,  Ladies'  Home  Journal, 
Phila.  5,  Pa.,  and  ask  for  No.  2599.        By  Dawn  Crowell  Norman 

Beauty  Editor  of  the  Journal 


I    \  I)  I  I 


II    <)    M    I        I    (I    I  |( 


Bur- Lines  ^ 


(•wile's  dicimi  . 
)Sl  no  iillrnlioii 


WISH  YOU  COn.I)  sFF.  mv  .lining 
""""  •  •  •  It's  truly  my  |)ridi-  and  joy!  l  liaiN 
Ixcaiisc  the  walls  arc  paii.-lccl  will.  IM..\.\K\Vl:i.l) 
.  .  .  lu-wfst  member  of  ilie  raiiious  WelduoiKl 
I  lywood  "lamiiy."  It  .eallv  is  heaiiliinl  .  .  and 
so  lla^lerl^^  Ki  all  my  fiir  iiisliiiins  .  ,  .  for  I'l.ANK- 
WI'.LD  is  real  wood,  /./,■./;,» i//,//  lo  \n\nv,  out  all 
llie  ruluiess  of  the  natural  wood  (.pain.  It's  a 
.dways  looks  bright  and  clean  willi 
.  and  it's  liuinaiititd  to  last  as  lon^ 
ic  house.  I  cliosc  l*hiiii)|)iMe  mahogany,  i)ut  FI.ANK- 
LI)  also  comes  in  i)ir(  h,  oak  and  other  handsome  woods, 
it's  moi'c,  it's  iiol  expensive  and  it's  easy  lo  install.  M\ 
land  did  the  jol)  for  less  than  S2I)().  Sounds  ^oocl?  Then 
ic  send  \(>u  (his: 

;E  FOLDER  .  .  .  with  complete  description  and  step-by-slop 
ictions.  I'll  also  send  the  name  of  your  PLANKWELD  dealer 
ause  I  know  you'll  want  to  see  this  smart  new  paneling.  So  don't 
3y  .  .  .  see  OFFER  No.  I  in  boxl 


/.\NI'     l()    K.XOW    my  newest 
beauty  secret  .  .  .  llie  way  I  keep 
liair  neativ  {•roomt'd  nil  day  loii«?  1 
■  a  \'ENin.\  Hair  Net  ...  for  I 
d  that  true  hair  beauty  means  more 
merely  shampooing,  brushing,  styl- 
ing   and  .selling. 
Tlie  impo riant 
thing    is    lo  keep 
your  hair  in  ])lace 
.  .  .  exactly  ihe  way 
\()u   arranged  il! 
.\nd   a  VF.NID.\ 
is  the  only  answer 
lo  that  ...  in  fad, 
I  he  1 0  seconds  you 
d  slippini;  a   \  KXIDA  over  your 
each  moining  nol  only  saves  you 
s  of  redoing  lime,  but  gives  you  a 
derful  feeling  of  assurance  that  your 
always  looks  its  very  best.  Once  you 
low  perfeclly  a  \'E'NIDA  Hair  Net 
the  waves,  you'll  never  be  without 
.  .  .  so  get  yourself  several  today. 

come  in  perfectly  matching  shades 
in  styles  to  conform  to 
hairdo.  And  when 
bu\'  bob  pins,  irififl  on 
(IDA  Rubber-Tipped 
Pins  .  .  .  for  they  have 
3nger  tension  grip  and 
Dth  safety  ends  that 
:  catch  or  scratch.  You'll  like  them 
/  certainlv  do. 


J 


S  nil.KI',  A  NKVV  AI)I)HI().\ 
to  your  nursery  this  New  N'ear? 
Then  Johnson  &  Johnson  RED  CROSS 
CO  ri  ON  BALLS  belong  there,  loo  .  .  . 
for  you'll  lind  ihey  answer  your  baby's 
special  needs  to  perfection.  Thai's  be- 
cause these  gener- 
o  u  s  size  balls 
(about  the  size  of 
a  half  dollar)  arc- 
spun  from  the  soft- 
est, whitest,  most 
absorbent  surgical 
coiion  available . . . 
and  thcv  come  lo 
>'ou  /06%  sterile! 
This  means  you 
can  trust  them 
completely  for  all 
can'i-lake-chances  jobs  .  .  .  such  as 
applying  lotions  and  oil  lo  hair  and 
scalp,  bathing  baby's  eyelids,  caring  for 
the  ears,  cleansing  the  diaper  area  and 
the  like.  But  don't  give  your  baby  a 
monopoly  on  RED  CROSS  COTTON 
B.\LLS  ...  I  think  they're  just  as 
wonderful  for  first  aid  medications,  for 
powder  and  rouge  puds  and  other  beauty 
needs.  They  cost  amazingly  little,  too 
.  .  .  only  35c  for  a  box  of  65's  or  60c  for 
the  large  economy  package  of  130's  at 
siorcs  everywhere.  No  connection  wdih 
.'\merican  National  Red  Cross. 


til) 


'OVE  A  BARGAIN  ...  in  beauty?  Then  now's  the  lime  for  you  lo  stock  up 
on  LADY  PEPPERELL  Sheets  .  .  .  during  the  money-saving  January  White 
>.  I'm  certainly  going  lo  .  .  .  for  it's  the  grandest  way  I  know 
akc  your  dreams  of  lu.xury  sheets  on  a  budget  come  true.  Bui 
already  know  what  an  irresistible  value  LADY  PEPPERELLS 
ys  are  .  .  .  how  exquisitely  textured,  caressably  smooth  and 
I  long-wearing.  So  take  advantage  of  the  low  January  sale 
•s  .  .  .  by  treating  yourself  to  both  the  white  and  colored  LADY 
PERELL  Fine  Combed  Percales  and  LADY  PEPPERELL 
:r-fine  Muslins  ...  in  the  regular  sheets  as  well  as  the  new 
>Y  PEPPERELL  Reversible  SNUG  FIT  Sheets.  These  are  ^ 
;ct  .  .  .  for  they  have  all  the  advantages  of  ordinary  filled  sheets 
er  bed-making  and  sweeter  sleeping!)  and  are  reversible,  too. 
one  reminder  .  .  .  when  you  shop  for  yourself,  Nvhy  not  get 
;  extra  LADY  PEPPERELL  Sheets  for  gifts  during  the  year? 


1  BORN  BEAUTY  is  an  outmoded  phrase  ...  for  with  clever  make-up,  every 
r  woman  is  beautiful.  And  for  that  I  recommetffd  Q-TIPS  Swabs  .  .  .  because 
I  find  they're  nol  only  wonderful  for  baby  care,  but  are  also 
the  perfect  cosmetic  accessory!  And  the  reason  is  this  .  .  . 
Q-TIPS  are  dainty  little  applicator  sticks  with  soft  cotton 
securely  anchored  at  both  ends.  It  never  becomes  loose  and 
messy  .  .  .  never  leaves  lint!  That's  why  they're  oh-so  neat 
and  convenient  to  use  .  .  .  and  why  I  consider  a  Q-TIPS  Swab 
the  ideal  answer  to  every  make-you-pretlier  job.  They  come 
in  a  brand  new  pink  and  black  cosmetic  package,  now,  too 
.  .  .  with  beauty  tips  galore  inside  the  wrapper.  You'll  learn 
all  kinds  of  quick,  easy  "tricks"  for  clever  make-up  .  .  .  such 
as  this  "Q"  to  lovelier  eyebrow  grooming. 
Soften  your  eyebrow  line  with  a  dry  Q-TIPS  .  .  .  then,  to  add  lustre  to 
ibrows,  touch  a  Q-TIPS  end  in  brilliantine  and  apply  gently. 

don't  stop  there  .  .  .  follow  all  the  suggestions  inside  the  new  Q-TIPS  package. 


anry  Sasser 


.1  '  •  I  !■  i  I  I 


iji.s  r-r)!'  I 
will) 


I 


whit  II 


KOO.M  in  ihr  l).>  .  v 
I  .\fOK(,AN-|O.M.S 
•  11  Miili 
add  a  (iiidri 


'\  KIICML.N  IS  nil.  ULsr-r)!'!  id 
I'vr  junl  dri  krd  it  oui 
lli'  \'ir  llir  liii|>litcii|  and  |.i  ■ 
(Icvrtly   i«|ju(cd    iiiidti-i  iiloi' 
drrorai4»r  nulr  iliai'ii  »i(ti|j|y 
.iii  ihry'rr  /iiflly  .  .  .  arr 
H(  |»  <  led  tolloii  III  insurr  iuix-i  . 
Dinh  I'liwrlit  arr  irally  ftlra-ltiintt 

o|  inoiitiurr  in  "m(»"  tiin«-.  And  ilirii  »i/r  i*       riKlii  .    .  larK 
<  iioiit>li  for  your  I)im{»-»1  l)«»wU,  yri  nul  llir  Iriul  bit  Indkv 
l.itim  wrar  in  wovrn  ri^lil  in,        .  .  .  diry'rr  lolot-fati  wiili 
Hlront^ly  itliii  lird  lirinn,  Bill  why  Kiy  more  .  .  .  your  fuviiriir 
Groi  cry  or  V'aririy  .Suirr,  a*  well  an  Linrn  Orp.i' "n- ni    m.,.  I 
If  I  wvvv  you  I'rl  alwi       mat<  liitiK  .MOI<(;,\.\ 
for  tliey  add  ihi-  iKTfict  finifiliing  touch  .i 


I.  ...     .  .  for 


M'  /I  ■  . 
drink  up 


rvrry  dr»<|< 


\V  M"  ,  \  V  lO.V'KS. 

Mdldrni 


^11  IS  IS  I')  .  i  ,  .  .  high  liiiir  for  y.i.i 
to  (|uil  ironing  ihc  old-fa.ihionrd 
way  .Hid  try  PRES K)  .\iiic)inaii(  \'a|M»r- 
Suam  Ironing.  You'll  Ix-  as  drlinliii-d 
with  il  as  I  am,  I  l.now  .  .  .  for  in  ilii.s 
one  amaziiit;  iron,  you  get  the  four  fca- 
turc-H  you've 
always 
wanted: 
I.  Il  uiat 
iuil  ordi- 

^  O^'^l.  •  •  • 

-J*^k!^^^--t^  distilled 

  ^^^^  water  nol 

needed. 

2.  Vapor-Steam  irons  .  .  .  wilhoul  sprlnicling. 

3.  It  presses  .  .  .  without  press  cloths.  4.  Il 
dry  irons   perfeclly  .   .   .   without  foligue. 

A  PRF.STf)  \'ai)or-Sicam  Iron  is  com- 
pletely a'llnnialir,  loo,  and  "boasts"  an 
exclusive  Solcplaie  Heat  Indicator  .  .  . 
clearly  marked  for  all  types  of  fabrics  to 
prevent    scorching.    The    cost  needn't 
worry  you  at  all,  either  .  .  .  because  it 
soon  pays  for  il.self  in  pressing  bills  alone. 
Bui  learn  all  about  it  first-hand  ...  at 
your  Electric  Hou.sewarcs  Dealer,  Hard- 
ware, Department,  Furniture  or  Jewelry 
Store.  .'\nd  send  for  this: 
FREE   BOOKLET   .   .   .   with   helpful  hints 
galore  that  will  make  your  ironing  faster, 
easier  and  better.  See  OFFER  No.  2  in  box. 


p\i  I,  IS  \Vf).\l)l.l<l  I  I.  uhrn  you 
frrj  wonderful  .  .  .  and  you  will 
wiili  ihr  hr||)  of  a  .MAf;ARA  I)rc|i 
Ma.Ma^r  Homr-Sri.  I'm  nurr  of  ic  .  .  . 
ff)r  tlirw  nrw,  ih  irnlific  drvif  r«  arr  llir 
Ijrtil  way  in  ihr  world  to  hrip  Riiniiilair 
bItHKl  I  irrulaii'in,  raw  nrr\'ou«  triuion 
and  "lunr-up"  ihr 
Ixjdy  ...  an  wril 
ai  comfori  sorr. 
arhiuK  mu.v  lrsand 
joinin.  You  can 
lake  my  word  for 
it  .  .  .  Ixraunr 
N  I  A  f;  A  R  A 
Homc-.S«-is  arr  ac- 
tually Malrd-down 
vrrsionsof  ihr  large 
ex|X'nsivr  rrjuipment  iST.AG.ARA  makrti 
for  hospitals,  clinics  and  health  centers. 
And  they're  so  eaiy  to  us<'  .  .  .  you  jutit 
sit  on  the  units,  ri-si  your  frrt  on  them, 
lie  on  them  or  \x)\>  them  behind  your 
back  as  you  read  f>r  work.  .Soon  you 
relax  to  a  8f)oihing  ma.ssagr  action  .  .  . 
Ix'gin  to  feci  wonderful!  ^'ou'll  find  that 
only  a  few  minutes'  use  daily  will  help 
keep  muscles  firm,  supple  and  strong, 
too  .  .  .  but  send  for  this: 

FREE  BOOKLET  .  .  .  tells  you  all  about 
NIAGARA  Home-Sets  along  with  informo- 
tive  illustrations.  See  OFFER  No.  3  in  box. 


/^ITTLE  THINGS  LIKE  LEFTOVERS  can  be  the  "life"  of  your  meals  .  .  . 
csC  provided  you  know  the  trick  of  turning  them  into  taste-tempting  treats!  How 
do  I  do  it?  It's  easy  ...  I  dress  up  second-day  turkey,  chicken, 
beef,  veal,  hamburger  and  the  like  wiih  a  good,  rich  gravy. 
A  word  lo  the  wise,  though  .  .  .  pan-browning  alone  isn't 
enough.  Always  use  a  little  KITCHEN  BOUQUET  .  .  .  then 
you  can  be  sure  your  gravy  will  be  extra-rich,  extra-brown  and 
c.v/;fl-delicious!  You  see,  this  famous  gravy  aid  is  a  rare  blend 
of  14  choice  vegetables,  herbs  and  spices  .  .  .  which  brings  out 
the  true  natural  taste  of  meal  or  fowl  .  .  .  never,  never  adds 
any  artificial  fiavor.  Of  course,  smart  chefs  and  good  cooks 
ha\e  known  this  for  over  75  years  .  .  .  they  wouldn't  dream 
of  risking  a  prize  roast  with  ordinary  pan-browned  gravy  .  .  . 
they  always  depend  on  KITCHEN  BOUQUET.  But  try  it  yourself  tonight  ...  I 
know  you'll  agree  that  KITCHEN  BOUQUET  makes  the  most  perfect  gravy  you 
ever  tasted! 

//RRE'S  A  SPECIAL  HAPPY  NEW  YEAR'S  MES.SAGE  to  mothers  .  .  .  about 
the  wonderful  improvements  in  CRE.\M  OF  RICE.  To  Ix-gin  with,  this 
delicifjus.  creamy-smooth  rice  cereal  comes  in  a  new  package  .  .  .  with  a  convenient 
pouring  spout  that's  easy  to  open,  easy  to  close  and  pours  like 
magic.  And  CRE.\M  OF  RICE  cooks  in  only  Vi  minute  now 
...  10  times  /aj^T  than  ever  before  .  .  .  which  means  it's  almost 
an  instant  cereal/  Best  of  all,  though,  many  doctors  recommend 
CRE.AM  OF'  RICE  .  .  .  because  it  has  these  distinct  advantages 
over  any  other  kind  of  cereal.  Listen: 


CREAM  OF  RICE  gives  quieter  nutrition  .  .  .  new  life  begins  lo  pour  Into 
the  system  in  a  few  minutes.  Il  gives  more  energy  .  .  .  with  Vitamins  Bi,  B; 
and  Niacin  added,  plus  Iron  for  rich,  red  blood  and  better  growth. 
It's  easier  to  digest  .  .  .  and  least  likely  of  oil  kinds  of  cereals  to  cause 
allergic  reactions. 

And  if  your  family  is  like  mine,  they'll  all  love  new  Yz  minute  CRE.AM  OF  RICE 
...  so  serve  it  often.  I  do. 


Write  Nancy  Sasier,  271  Modison  Ave., 

Nevt 

York  16,  N.  Y.,  for  y^wr  FREE  copy  of:  J 

□    OFFER  No. 

1  . 

.  PLANKWELD  folder.  J 

□    OFFER  No. 

2  . 

.  RKCSTO  Ironing  Booklef.  ] 

'                                        □    OFFER  No. 

3  . 

.  NIAGARA  Home-Ut  Bookltt.  > 

rOP  imsm  oi  the  diamond  jubilee  , 

the  most  talked  abod 


most  flexible !  cork  cushioned  h' 


best  liltinf5 ! 


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Why  /  ^ 

For  the  comfort  of  its  easv,  flexible 
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sole  under  foot.  For  il»  fine  fit  that 
hugs  the  heel,  frees  the  toes— guaran- 
tees no  slip,  no  gap,  no  pinch  ever! 
For  its  tip-to-toe,  outstanding  (piality 
that  makes  it  the  best  shoe  Imiv  in 
America. 


Shoes  Illustrated, 


Funsters,  S8.95  to  S9.95.  Other  stales.  S9.95  to  611.95 

Higher  Denver  Wesf  ond  Conada. 


Manufactured  in  CANADA  by 
Perth  Shoe  Company,  Ltd.,  Perth,  Ont.  :J 


T^TAl%/r/^1\TT^       TTTT5TT171?       1    O   H   O  irkCO 


78 


L  A   D    T    K    S  '       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


(Continued  from  Page  74) 
but  a  single  runagate  from  Easley's—some 
kind  of  chieftain,  this  was,  a  man  new-bought, 
not  bred,  like  the  others.  Easleys  had  been 
generals  and  judges  and  members  of  the 
Cabinet.  But  slowly,  underneath  this  rich 
flowering,  the  canker  at  the  taproot  had  fed 
on  them.  For  they  were  a  clear  and  delicate- 
minded  strain.  So  they  had  tried  to  give  up 
thinking  for  talking  and  drinking.  And  each 
following  son  was  gutted  a  little  further  of 
his  Easley  marrow.  Until  now  Mr.  Easley 
could  not  set  down  his  liquor  glass,  and  would 
not  turn  himself  away  from  Mrs.  Heyward. 

At  dinner  she  talked  most  sweetly  to  the 
judge.  She  urged  him  to  take  some  cham- 
pagne. They  weren't  breaking  prohibition, 
she  explained,  because  all  their  liquor  had 
been  down-cellar  for  years  and  years.  The 
judge  refused,  but  she  kept  me  filling  Mr. 
Easley 's  glass.  She  would  send  bright  beam- 
ing glances  to  her  husband.  She  managed  so 
well  that  even  Mrs.  Easley  didn't  see  when  — 
nor  the  way— she  looked  at  Mr.  Easley. 

After  dinner,  with  coffee,  she  got  every- 
one settled  around  the  living-room  fire  again; 
then  she  started  the  old-fashioned  music  bo,x. 
Phonographs,  she  declared,  "vulgarized" 
music.  When  I  brought  in  the  brandy  she  and 


Mr.  Easley  were  on  the  sun  porch.  I  went 
out  there  to  serve  them. 

"Don*t  forget  the  ash  trays.  Taw,"  she 
said,  "and  put  the  rest  of  these  cigars  right 
back  in  the  humidor." 

Maybe  she  didn't  know  Mr.  Heyward  had 
set  the  humidor  and  the  used  ash  trays  on 
the  long  table  in  the  living  room.  Or  maybe 
she  didn't  care.  Anyway,  this  table  was  set 
under  the  open  window  that  gave  onto  the 
sun  porch.  The  two  of  them  were  not  four 
feet  away  from  me.  Of  course  they  were 
screened  by  all  the  roses,  but  Mr.  Easley 's 
low  voice  came  right  in. 

"I  realize,"  he  said,  "we  are  not  out  here 
together  in  this  sweet-smelling  bower  be- 
cause you  believed  that  when  I  found  you 
irresistible  I  would  offer  to  sell  you  my 
house.  You  know  very  well  that  gallantry— 
either  fine  or  foolish— is  not  in  my  nature." 

"Press,  dear,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "what 
are  you  talking  about?" 

"About  us,  Kitty.  You  and  me.  Two  pred- 
atory people.  And  about  my  house,  since 
your  desire  for  it  has  made  you  plan  that  I 
should  take  you— like  this— into  my  arms." 

"Press!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said. 

"Hold  still,"  Mr.  Easley  said;  and  then, 
"My  house,"  he  said,  "is  the  only  good 


thing — when  you  consider  my  character — 
that  I  got  from  my  forebears.  You  want  it. 
Well,  I  have  owned  its  every  beautiful  bone. 
And  its  beauty  has  survived  my  abuse.  My 
will  to  keep  it  is  strong  as  yours  to  take  it 
from  me.  And  yet  now — when  I  touch  you 
now — I  wonder  if  I  might  not  simply  look 
into  your  eyes  and  say.  Take  it.  As  much  of  it 
as  I  have  left  to  give  you." 

"Wait,"  she  said,  "wait.  Press.  I  " 

"I  know,  I  know,"  Mr.  Easley  said.  "I'm 
astonished  myself.  You  counted  on  casual 
lechery  from  me,  nothing  more.  Nothing  so 
strange  and  simple  as  this  would  ever  enter 
your  head.  So  the  plan,  of  course,  is  for  Jim 
to  find  me  out  here  taking  caddish  liberties 
with  you." 

"Oh!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "You're  hor- 
rible! Let  go  of  me!  Press!" 

"Too  late,"  he  said.  "At  great  risk,  I  shall 
get  even  with  you.  Because  you  are  going  to 
want  me  after  this— and  what  you  want  you 
want  badly." 

I  thought  there'd  be  sounds  of  a  struggle, 
and  then  the  two  of  them  coming  back  in. 
But  there  was  only  silence.  Until  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward said,  in  a  bright  cold  voice,  "Now  — 
Preston,  surely  that  will  do.  Do  you  still 
think  I'm  going  to  want  you?" 


Mr.  Easley  made  a  hoarse  sound.  "Before 
God.  woman!"  he  said. 

"Oh— be  quiet,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said. 
"Here— give  me  your  arm.  We  may  as  well 
go  back." 

"Yes— we  may."  Mr.  Easley  had  got  hold 
of  himself  now.  "Since  Jim  refuses  to  come 
out  here  all  your  trouble  has  been  for  noth- 
ing. Poor  Kitty!" 

"Poor  Kitty  your  grandmother!"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said.  "Since  you  know  so  much, 
Preston  Easley,  you  may  as  well  know  I'm 
going  to  get  that  house.  Because  I  am!" 

For  a  minute  nothing  happened.  Then  Mr. 
Easley  began  to  laugh.  "I  can  see  that  you 
are.  You'll  damn  well  do  it  somehow,  won't 
you?  Oh,  Kitty— wait!"  He  was  still  laugh- 
ing. 

"You  won't  think  it's  so  funny,"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said. 

"  I  certainly  won't."  Mr.  Easley  said,  "but 
we  are  funny,  right  now.  And  let  me  tell 
you— since  I  am  one  mere  man  a  id  no  match 
for  an  elemental  force— I  lliink  1  prefer  to 
give  up  now.  How  much  will  you  give  me  for 
my  house? " 

"A  lot,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "Come  on!" 

( To  be  Continued ) 


JI'PITEK 

(Continued  from  Page  32) 


is  a  mystery  in  the  human-canine  relation- 
ship. The  Mertons  were  always  solicitous 
over  Jupiter;  but  as  he  aged— and  as  they 
aged,  all  three  of  them  — their  solicitude  in- 
creased with  his  dependence.  Irritated  at  the 
trouble  he  made,  they  worried  about  him. 
Indignantly.  I  hey  deferred  to  his  lumbering 
presence.  To  most  of  their  friends— to  all 
their  friends  who  had  never  owned  dogs,  and 
worried,  and  deferred— the  Mertons  seemed 
rather  silly  about  Jupiter.  Indeed,  Mr. 
Merton  often  declared  that  they  were  silly. 

"We  treat  him  as  if  he  owned  the  mort- 
gage," said  Mr.  Merton. 

So  that  day  in  spring  when  Mrs.  Merton 
discovered  the  glaze  over  Jupiter's  eyes,  and 
reported  it  in  grave  distress  to  her  husband 
the  moment  he  came  home,  he  was  equipped 
with  an  answer. 

"You  and  Barb/?/s5  too  much  about  that 
dog ! " 

"But  there's  a  queer  filmy  look  " 

"Doesn't  mean  a  thing,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  but  we  could  let  the  vet  have  a 
glance  at  it." 

"A  cold,"  said  Mr.  Merton.  "  It'll  clear  up 
in  a  day  or  two.  You'll  see." 

But  afterward  he  went  out  into  the  back 
yard — where  the  pinks  had  marvelously 
stayed  green  under  the  snow  all  winter 
long — and  took  Jupiter's  big  head  in  his 
hands  and  inspected  the  dog's  eyes. 

"What  is  this?"  he  whispered  to  Jupiter, 
and  looked  anxious. 

That  night  at  dinner  Barb  said,  "  I  think 
old  Jupe's  got  hypertension.  He  just  walked 
right  off  the  back  porch  without  even  touch- 
ing the  steps.  That's  what  you  do  with  hy- 
pertension— get  dizzy,  lose  your  sense  of  bal- 
ance." 

"When  did  he  fall  off  the  porch?"  cried 
Mrs.  Merton,  talking  to  Barbara,  but  look- 
ing at  her  husband. 

"Just  noiv." 

"It's  his  eyes!  He's  got  cataracts!  I  knew 
there  was  something  " 

"I  think  it's  just  hypertension,  mamma.  I 
read  a  column— you  know,  those  health 

hints  "  Barbara  paused  abruptly;  all  at 

once  both  she  and  her  mother  were  staring  at 
her  father. 

"I've  already  decided,"  said  Mr.  Merton, 
in  the  rather  proud,  firm  voice  he  always 
used  when  beaten  in  an  argument,  "to  take 
Jupiter  out  to  the  vet  in  the  morning.  Now 
will  you  both  please  stop  fussing?"  He 
glanced  casually  at  the  far  wall.  "Almost 
certainly,"  he  said,  "this  is  nothing  but  a 
cold.  We  make  entirely  loo  much  out  of  lit- 
tle things  in  this  house." 

Next  morning  he  loaded  Jupiter  into  the 
back  seat  of  the  car,  making  sure  that  all  the 


windows  were  up  back  there,  because  once 
the  dog  had  fallen  out— or  had  jumped  out; 
there  was  some  doubt  in  the  family  as  to 
whether  the  sight  of  a  couple  of  enemy 
horses  in  a  field  had  not  precipitated  the 
plunge — and  then  with  hoarse,  hot  canine 
breathing  at  the  nape  of  his  neck,  he  drove 
out  to  the  vet's  white  clinical  establishment 
at  the  edge  of  town. 

Jupiter,  who  spent  his  time  out  here  each 
summer  when  the  family  was  on  vacation, 
always  loved  the  vet's  place.  This  morning 
he  seemed  to  sense  it  as  a  destination ;  and  he 
sniffed  and  snorted  and  cavorted  in  the  back 
seal  like  an  old  Ixjy  going  back  to  a  class  re- 
union. When  Mr.  M'erton  let  him  out  of  the 
car  he  lunged  wildly  forward,  and  Mr.  Mer- 
ton, at  the  other  end  of  the  leash,  lunged 
wildly  after,  narrowly  avoiding  collision 
with  a  little  old  lady  who  was  just  coming 
out  of  the  vet's  front  door,  carrying  a  taffy- 
colored  cocker  puppy  with  a  bandaged  fore- 
paw. 

In  the  vet's  waiting  room,  on  the  daven- 
port under  the  gold-framed  oil  painting  of  a 
champion  Gennan-shepherd  dog,  Mr.  Mer- 
ton sat,  ordering  Jupiter  to  do  the  same  on 
the  linoleum.  Jupiter,  however,  tried  to  climb 
up  into  Mr.  Merton's  lap. 

Just  then  a  nurse  in  white  peered  round 
the  comer  of  an  open  door  leading  to  an  in- 
ner r^om.  Seeing  Jupiter,  she  groaned.  "Oh, 
no!  You're  not  going  to  board  him  with  us 
again,  Mr.  Merton ! " 

"I  just  want  doctor  to  look  at  his  eyes," 
he  told  her. 

Jupiter  jumped  toward  the  nurse  and  be- 
gan to  wriggle.  She  came  forward,  bent,  and 
scratched  him  behind  one  ear.  "Old  dope," 
she  said.  "Old  dopey  Jupiter."  She  smiled  at 
the  painting  of  the  champion  German  shep- 
herd. "You  remember  the  time  he  jumped 
up  on  the  davenport  there  and  tried  to  fight 
that  police  dog,  Mr.  Merton?  " 

"Last  couple  of  times  he's  never  even  no- 
ticed the  picture." 

"How  long  have  his  eyes  been  glazed  like 
this?" 

"Well,  just  lately  we've  begun  to  notice 
it,"  said  Mr.  Merton.  "Do  they  look  queer 
to  you?" 

"We'll  let  doctor  see  them,"  said  the 
nurse.  "Old  dope,"  she  said,  whacking 
Jupiter  on  the  ribs.  "I'll  see  you  in  a  minute, 
Mr.  Merton." 

She  went  into  the  inner  chambers,  and  in 
a  little  while  a  red-haired  girl  leading  a  Dal- 
matian came  out,  and  the  nurse  beckoned  to 
Mr.  Merton,  and  Jupiter  made  a  furious  rush 
at  the  Dalmatian;  but  Mr.  Merton  dragged 
him  into  the  glistening  white  consulting  room 
and  with  both  arms  hoisted  him  up  onto  the 
chrome  table  and  said  to  the  tall,  old,  thick- 


spectacled,  white-haired,  thin-faced  vet, 
"How  are  you,  doctor?" 

"Did  it  ever  occur  to  you,"  said  the  vet, 
looking  with  resignation  at  Jupiter,  "years 
ago  I  mean,  when  you  were  inspecting  pup- 
pies, that  there  are  a  great  many  smaller 
dogs  than  this?" 

"Blame  him  on  my  wife  and  daughter," 
said  Mr.  Merton.  "They  picked  him  out 
in  the  first  place.  Now  they're  worried  about 
his  eyes." 

So  the  examination  proceeded,  on  the 
chrome  table,  in  the  glistening  white  room. 


Part  of  the  secret  of  success  in  life 
is  to  eat  what  you  lilce  and  let  the 
food  fight  it  out  inside. 

—  MARK  TWAIN 


with  the  bottles  and  the  shiny  surgical  in- 
struments lying  on  the  glass  shelves,  and  the 
cold-water  faucet  of  the  washbowl  in  the 
corner  dripping  and  dripping  like  Chinese 
torture,  and  the  old  doctor  very  intent,  and 
the  nurse  murmuring,  and  Jupiter  intermit- 
tently deciding  that  this  was  all  nonsense, 
and  struggling  to  his  feet,  and  Mr.  Merton 
grappling  with  him  and  leaning  with  all  his 
might  on  the  dog's  back,  while  the  nurse 
said,  "Qui-yet,  you  old  dope!"  And  after 
much  inspection,  and  shooting  of  lights  in 
Jupiter's  eyes,  and  peering  through  black 
gadgets,  the  vet  said,  "I  don't  like  to  tell 
you,  Mr.  Merton,  but  this  dog  of  yours  is  go- 
ing blind." 

Mr.  Merton  said,  "Can  you  do  anything 
about  it?"  and  scratched  Jupiter's  ear. 

"There  isn't  anything  anybody  can  do. 
I'm  pretty  good  at  eye  trouble,  if  I  say  so 
myself  " 

"I  know  you  are!"  cried  Mr.  Merton, 
using  both  hands  to  scratch  both  of  Jupiter's 
ears. 

"         but  there  just  isn't  anything  to 

do,"  said  the  vet.  "In  another  month — say, 
two,  three  months  at  the  most — you're  go- 
ing to  have  a  blind  animal  here.  I  could  give 
you  a  nice  song  and  dance  about  surgery,  or 
I  could  tell  you  what's  the  matter  with  him 
in  technical  language  you  wouldn't  under- 
stand. But  the  plain  truth  is  you've  got  just 
two  possibilities." 

The  nurse  had  walked  round  the  table 
and  was  cooing  to  Jupiter.  On  the  chrome 
table  the  big  dog  wriggled  and  sniffed  at  the 
nurse's  hand. 

"You  can  keep  him,"  the  vet  went  on. 
"  Lots  of  people  do,  and  it's  surprising  how  a 


blind  dog  can  gel  along  sometimes.  Or  if  you 
feel  the  other  way  about  it  and  don't  want  all 
the  bother,  you  have  to" — the  vet  paused — 
"get  rid  of  him." 

"Get  ridoi  him?"  cried  Mr.  Merton. 

"It  depends  on  how  you  feel  after  you've 
thought  it  all  over." 

"Oh." 

The  nurse  took  Jupiter  by  the  collar  and 
said.  "Down,  boy!"  But  instead  of  jump- 
ing, Jupiter  simply  walked  enthusiastically 
off  the  edge  of  the  table  and  grunted  in  sur- 
prise as  he  hit  the  floor.  The  nurse  gave  Mr. 
Merton  a  look. 

"I— I'll  let  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Merton 
to  the  vet.  While  he  was  paying  his  bill  he 
told  the  nurse  rather  apologetically,  "You 
know,  everybody  in'  our  family  likes  him  so 
much!"  He  paused  for  a  moment,  then 
added  indignantly,  "The  trouble  is  you  get 
attached  to  a  dog!"  He  glowered  at  Jupiter, 
"And  of  couise  you  want  to  do  what's 
best"  he  said.  "What's  best  for  everybody. 
It  puts  an  awful  responsibility  on  you,  own- 
ing a  dog." 

The  nurse  said,  "Now  look,  Mr.  Merton, 
don't  let  this  throw  you.  Why  don't  you  sit 
down  and  rest  for  a  minute  before  you  drive 
home?" 

"Oh,  no!  Not  a  bit  of  it!  I'm  quite  all 
right,  really.  But  I  just  mean  I  can  see  both 
sides.  After  all,  we  don't  want  him  barging 
around  in  the  dark  getting  himself  hurt.  But 

on  the  other  hand  "  Mr.  Merton  stopped 

suddenly  as  the  vet  came  in. 

"  I  have  to  tell  people,"  said  the  vet.  "You 
wouldn't  want  me  not  to  tell  you.  But  I 
know  how  it  is.  I've  had  experience  enough. 
I  know  how  you  feel.  I  even  like  him" — 
through  his  thick  glasses  he  shot  a  scornful 
look  at  Jupiter.  "  He's  the  worst  pest  we've 
had  boarding  out  here  for  I  don't  know  how- 
many  years.  Only  everybody  seems  to  take 
to  him.  Now  go  on  home  and  let  it  decide  it- 
self. There's  time.  You  don't  have  to  make 
up  your  mind  tomorrow." 

"  If  you  have  to  decide  a  thing,  there's  no 
point  in  putting  it  off,"  said  Mr.  Merton, 
"But  thanks,  both  of  you !" 

Driving  home,  with  Jupiter  in  the  back 
seat,  Mr.  Merton  took  a  long  way  round,  and 
passed  under  the  arching  black  branches  of 
great  elms  all  covered  with  yellow-green 
fuzz;  he  drove  along  the  brown-spangled 
river,  flowing  high  and  swift;  he  watched  a 
flock  of  birds,  tiny  and  dark  in  the  morning 
sun,  veer  across  the  sky;  he  passed  a  wide 
lawn  full  of  bright  crocuses. 

When  at  last  he  got  home  he  led  Jupiter 
round  the  side  of  the  house  to  the  fenced-in 
back  yard.  "You  old  dope,"  he  murmured. 
"If  you  had  any  idea  of  what's  gOing  on 


j'd  he  pi'lrificd,  woulcln'l  you?"  He 
red  .'It  the  don;  and  as  Jiipilcr  made  for 
:  bare  black  l)ccl  wberc  last  year  in  lliree 
L'ks  ho  liad  ruined  the  double  petunias, 
•.  Merlon  shouted  anniily,  "No!"  Axid 
liter  turned,  wa^nlt'd,  and  sal  down  on 
■  Krass. 

n  the  liouse  Mrs.  Merlon  and  Barbara 
ii  asked  (jueslions  at  once.  What  had  the 
said?  Was  it  serious?  Wliat  caused  ii 
w  soon  would  it  ro  away?  Mr.  Merlon 
:1  Ihein  it  was  conjunclivilis,  and  that 
y'd  heller  (Ix  some  boric  solul  ion  to  baliie 
(Ion's  eyes  twice  a  day. 
'A  nirl  in  our  lionu'  room's  koI  a  don  that 
irs  bifocals,"  said  Harb. 
'Oh,  no!" 

'Sure,  he's  a  wire-haired." 
't'ontacl  lenses?" 

iari)  ni^^uled.  "  I  never  saw  him,"  she  said, 
.It  it  must  be  nose  pincers." 


swcepinu  motion  with  hm  handH.  and  tried  to 
shrun;  but  the  Kcalure  didn't  come  off  lie 
sat  there  with  his  shouldern  hi^h  and  \m 
hands  out. 

Ills  wife,  at  the  back  <!..„,  ,H,-,mK  .,ut 
Ihrounh  the  screen,  he^an  to  make  sobbmu 
sounds  which  m  a  moment  turned  out  lo  Ix: 
imperfectly  controlled  lannliter  "He 
I  ii !  look !  come  here !  he's  lyinn  o„  ih„st..  mari- 
nolds  you  just  planted!" 

"  It's  enounh  to  know."  s;iid  Mr.  Merton 
"  I  don't  have  to  l(H)k." 

Mrs.  Merton.  lurninn.  dablied  al  her  eyes 
"We  just  have  to  keep  him.  of  course!"  she 
said. 

"That's  how  you  jeel,"  Mr.  Merlon  lold 
her.  "Hut  how  do  you  think?  I  mean,  UK- 
reason  I'm  lellinv.  you  all  this  is  .  .  .  well, 
I've  been  thiiikinn  alxiul  liieliairon  the  car- 
pels and  the  mud  on  ihe  Ikjor.  You  know,  I  le 


■  Wouldn'l  .Iu|)iler  look  lovely  wilh  nose    sleeps  on  Barbara's  bed  every  time  we  le: 


cers  on  a  ionn  black  ribbon? 
kirs.  Merlon  was  put  I  inn  water  on  liie 
ve  lo  heat  for  the  boric  solution.  "What's 
matter,  dear?"  she  asked  iier  husband. 
'Notiiinn.  nolhinn  al  all." 
'You  look  so  solemn." 
'I've  been  liflinn  that  monster  up  and 
dinn  him  ck)wn  on  the  vet's  table.  I'm 
d." 

'I'm  so  n'ad  it  isn't  anythinn  serious," 
1  Mrs.  Merton.  "  Really,  you  know,  I  was 
Tied." 

'/  thounhl  it  was  serious,"  said  Barbara. 

I  know,"  said  Mr.  Merlon.  "I  know." 

brushed  at  a  iialch  of 
liter's  hair  which  clung 
.he  front  of  his  coal. 


)uring    the  next  few 
ys  he  occasionally 
ped   his  wife  and 
inhter  chase   the  dog 
Lind  the  house  with  a 
Dpinn  wad  of  cotton. 
)iter  objected  stren- 
isly  to  having  his  eyes 
bed,  and  made  an  in- 
idual  stampede  out  of  each  operation, 
ilso  during  these  days  Jupiter  walked 
light  into  the  new  wire  fence  which 
.  Merlon  had  hopefully  bought  and 
bed  into  the  ground  around  the  long 
in  the  back  yard,  where  the  pinks 

1  stayed  green  all  w  inter. 

laving  walked  into  this  new  fence  and 
ted  it  slightly,  Jupiter  sniffed  at  the 

2  for  several  minutes  and  then  jumped 
ly  over  it  and  lay  down  among  the 
der  green  plants.  When  Mr.  Merton 
ad  him  there  and  shouted  "No!"  in 
imperious  voice  the  dog  slowly,  Tabori- 
ly  got  up,  as  if  every  joint  in  his  frame 
e  arthritic,  and  moved  three  pinks  over 
3re  he  lay  down  again.  "I  might  as 
1  pave  the  back  yard!"  shouted  Mr. 
rton. 

tEN  one  night  just  before  dinner,  while 
bara  was  sprawling  on  the  floor  of  the 
It  hall  in  a  long  telephone  conversation, 
.  Merton  suddenly  strode  out  into  the 
;hen,  where  his  wife  was  spooning  ground 
ee  into  the  pierced  silvery  insides  of  the 
:olator. 

I  haven't  told  you  quite  the  whole  thing 
ut  Jupiter,"  he  said.  "His  eyes— well, 
i  going  blind,  that's  what  it  amounts  to. 
ter  not  let  Barb  know.  There's  nothing 
De  done.  But— well,  I've  been  trying  to 
ide  everything  by  myself,  and  maybe 
t  isn't  quite  fair  to  you,  or  to  Barb,  or  lo 
< :  I  don't  know ! "  Mr.  Merlon  threw  him- 
into  a  kitchen  chair. 

/Irs.  Merton  carefully  put  the  top  on  the 
ee  canister.  "Tell  me,"  she  said. 
Well,  the  question  is,  do  we  want  to  keep 
I  blind  and  take  a  chance  on  all  the  things 
t  might  happen,  or  do  we  just  want  to  get 

from  under  and — you  know,  have  him 

away?" 

Put  away?"  She  ran  to  the  back  door, 
h,  the  poor  old  dog ! " 
No,  no!"  cried  Mr.  Merton.  "Don't  let 
1  in !  We  don't  want  sentiment  cluttering 
this  thing!  Let's  be  realistic — we  have  to 
ide  one  way  or  the  other!"  He  made  a 


We  have  no  more  right  to 
consume  happiness  with- 
out producing  it  than  to 
consume  wealth 
producing  it. 


without 


— G.  B.  SHAW 


the  door  open 

"We  just  have  lo  keep  those  f)edr(X)m 
doors  ck)sed." 

"And  then,  he's  not  going  lo  be  (|uile  him- 
self from  now  on.  He'll  probably  bump  inlo 
furniture,  knock  things  down.  Outside,  he'll 
be  a  perfect  setup  for  some  car  lo  smash 
inlo." 

"But  he's  always  been  that!"  cried  Mrs 
Merlon.  "And  you  know  the  way  drivers  al- 
ways slow  down  for  him  when  he's  crossing 
the  street  because  he's  so  bij'!  Besides.  1 
don't  think  we  have  any  rinbl  to  even  talk 
about  gel  ling  rid  of  him  this  way ! " 

"That's  ihe  trouble," 
said  Mr.  Merton.  "We  do 
have  the  right.  We  even 
have  the  duly.  It's  not  as 
if  he  were  a  human  being, 
you  see— he's  a  dog.  He's 
Ota  dog.  Oh,  I've  been 
thinking  about  it.  We 
have  the  whole  weight  of 
deciding ! " 

"Have  you  made  up 
your  mind?" 

"Yes,  but  I  " 

"And  you  want  to  know  what  my  de- 
cision is?" 

"That's  why  I  " 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Merton,  "Jupiter 
makes  a  terrible  lot  of  extra  work  around 
the  house,  and  I  don't  think  I  ever  want  lo 
have  another  dog,  though  I  might  change  my 
mind  about  that,  only  I  don't  think  so,  but 
as  long  as  we  can  I'd  like  to  keep  Jupiter." 
Mr.  Merton  grinned.  "Blind?" 
"Blind." 

"That's  the  way  I  decided.  But  if  you 

should  want  to  change  your  mind  now  " 

"  I  won't." 

Suddenly  Barbara,  fresh  from  the  tele- 
phone, was  in  the  kitchen. 

"Barb,  as  a  special  favor  shoo  that  dog 
out  of  my  marigolds.  I  don't  want  lo  look  at 
the  ruins  right  now." 

"And  then  will  you  pick  up  the  vacuum 
cleaner  and  put  it  away?  I  was  trying  to  gel 
the  dining  room  done— Jupiter  slept  there 
last  night." 

"I  heard  what  you  were  talking  about," 
said  Barbara.  "You  might  as  well  know. 
Anyhow,  I  thought  all  along  that  daddy  was 
acting  funny." 

"He  was  fussing."  said  Mrs.  Merlon.  "I 
noticed  it  too.  Ever  since  he  came  back  from 
the  vet's."  She  gave  her  husband  a  look. 

"]oo-ooop!"  called  Barbara  at  the  back 
door.  "Here,  boy!  In  the  house,  Jupe!" 

The  big  dog  waddled  slowly  up  the  steps, 
snorting;  as  he  entered  the  kitchen  he  began 
to  wriggle. 

"Good  old  Jupie!"  crooned  Barbara. 
"  We're  going  to  keep  him,  sure ! "  She  turned 
to  her  parents.  "  I  think  you  both  acted  very 
nobly,"  she  told  them.  "Of  course  if  you 
hadn't  I'd  have  just  about  thrown  a  fit.  But 
honestly  I  was  proud  of  you!" 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merton  were  both  staring  at 
the  fresh  black  pawprinls  which  were  ap- 
pearing in  a  queer  maze  behind  the  now 
prancing  dog. 

"White  elephant!" 

"Millstone!" 

They  looked  at  each  other  ruefully. 

THE  KND 


"S()a|)ino**(lulls  Uiur 
HALO  o|()ri(i(vs  i(  ! 


Yes,  "soaping"  your  hair  with 
even  finest  liquid  or  cream  shampoos  hides  its 
natural  lustre  with  dulling  soap  film. 

Halo — made  with  a  special  ingredient — contains  no 
soap  or  sticky  oils  to  dull  your  hair.  Halo  reveals 

shimmering  highlights  .  .  .  leaves  your  hair 
soft,  fragrant,  marvelously  manageable!  ^'^hp 


No  special  rinsing  needed.  Halo  does 
not  dry.  .  .  does  not  irritate! 

Halo  glorifies  your  hair  ^ 

with  your  very  first  shampoo 


The  biggest  idea  back  of  this  design  by  H.  T.  WiHiams  was  to  give  it  large-house  livability  at  small-house  cost. 

Little  house  witli  lar^e  ideas 


With  living  room  at  one  end  of  the  house 

bedrooms  at  the  other, 
the  traffic  congestion 
so  often  found  in  small  houses 
is  here  avoided. 


By  RICHARD  PRATT 

Architectural  Editor  of  iho  Jmirnul 


Large-house  idea  No.  1.  A  living  room  away  from  all  house- 
hold traffic.  What  a  relief!  Planned  for  undisturbed  pleasant- 
ness, it  is  highlighted  on  the  street  end  by  casements  above 
eye  level.  On  the  sunny  secluded  terrace  end  it  is  full-lighted 
by  floor-to-ceiling  windows.  It's  a  place  for  your  best  pieces, 
your  best  friends,  conversation,  quietness.  Large-house  idea 
No.  2.  The  gallery  adjoining.  A  place  to  meet  people  coming 
in;  a  place  for  rainy-day  play,  gay  parties,  dining;  for  sewing, 
home\\ork,  hobbies;  for  overflow  of  all  kinds.  It  could  have 
a  full  floor  of  brick  or  tile  right  through,  including  entrance 
porch  and  terrace.  Floor-to-ceiling  windows  on  the  south, 


plus  high  clerestory  windows  facing  north,  insure  its  cheerful 
brightness  on  even  the  dullest  days.  Large-house  idea  No.  3. 
A  really  commodious  kitchen  with  family-size  facilities  for 
lunch  and  breakfast.  Large-house  idea  No.  4.  A  completely 
isolated  section  for  bedrooms  and  bath,  appropriately  planned 
for  privacy  and  quietness.  All  three  bedrooms  are  with  cross 
ventilation,  as  you  can  see,  with  sliding-door  closets  and 
space  for  built-in  dressing  tables  or  desks.  And  of  course 
a  double-basin  bathroom  always  comes  in  handy.  .  .  .  The 
cost?  Anywhere  from  $12,000  to  $16,000,  depending  on 
your  builder,  your  location  and  yourself.  Any  other  questions  ? 


« 


82 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


€AX  THIS  MARRIAGE  BE  SAVED? 

(Continued  from  Page  41) 


Dry  skin  is  noticeable! 


after  25 

drying  skin 
begins  to  show! 

It's  noticeable  the  way  skin  often 
begins  to  look  drier  after  25. 

At  about  this  age,  the  natural  oil 
that  keeps  skin  soft  and  fresh  starts 
decreasing. 

You  need  a  special  replacer  to  offset 
this  drying  out.  Use  this  special 
Pond's  lanolin-rich  Dry  Skin  Cream. 

See  below  how  this  quick  ;/n-drier 
works  to  soften  and  repair  common 
dry  skin  troubles  all  over  your  face 
and  throat,  and  especially  in  dry 
skin  trouble  spots. 


Tense  "Down-Lines"  from  dry  skin  by 
nose  and  mouth  harden  your  expression. 
To  Help  Soften  Lines — "Knuckle  in" 
Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream,  kneading  firmly 
out,  up  from  nostrils,  mouth.  Use 
nightly.  See  how  this  lanolin-rich  cream 
softens  that  dry  look. 


Flabby,  Dry'Lined  Throat  puts  that 
"getting  older"  touch  on  you. 
To  Brisk-Up — Tilt  head  back  slightly. 
Firmly  stroke  lanolin-rich  Pond's  Dry 
Skin  Cream  up  from  base  of  throat  to 
chin.  Do  at  least  10  good  strokes  with 
each  hand  every  night  to  help  your 
throat  keep  a  smooth,  unflabby  look. 

start  using  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream 
today. 

Rich  in  lanolin,  it  is  homogenized 
and  has  a  special  softening  emtdsifier. 

At  night:  work  this  rich  cream  in 
generously.  By  day:  use  lightly  as 
softening  foundation.  Get  your  jar  of 
Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream  right  away! 
98,^,  S5i,  3li,  15i  (all  plus  tax). 

The  Viscountess  Boyle  says  .  .  . 
"Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream  gives  my  skin 
perfect  softening  help.'' 


dominating  mother  who'd  overloaded  him  as 
a  boy  with  housework  and  made  him  the 
butt  of  jokes  by  male  friends.  When  the  cou- 
ple came  to  realize  the  origin  of  these  com- 
bative attitudes,  they  became  more  tolerant 
of  each  other  and  found  a  solution.  Guy,  a 
better  cook  than  Diana,  began  helping  her 
plan  the  menus  and  thus  was  painlessly  led 
into  carrying  his  fair  share  of  making  the 
home  both  supported.  He  enjoyed  teaching 
Diana  and  she  enjoyed  learning.  Inciden- 
tally, shortly  after  the  meals  prepared  by 
both  started  reaching  the  table  on  time,  Guy 
voluntarily  offered  to  teach  Diana  how  to 
drive  and  they  began  sharing  the  use  of  the 
troublemaking  automobile. 

"The  question  of  homeownership  and  chil- 
dren, both  legitimate  desires  of  Diana's,  was 
tougher  to  solve.  Guy  shrank  from  assuming 
additional  financial  responsibility,  and  again 
consultation  revealed  a  reason  of  which  Di- 
ana was  unaware.  Guy  had  seen  his  amiable 
but  weak  father,  to  whom  he  was  devoted, 
crushed  by  the  excessive  demands  of  his 


dominating  mother.  Diana,  insistently  clam- 
oring for  a  home  and  children  as  her  right, 
had  given  no  thought  to  her  husband's  de- 
sires and  natural  fear  of  running  into  debt. 

"When  the  two  started  driving  around  on 
Sunday  to  inspect  housing  developments, 
they  were  merely  'looking.'  Here  again  Di- 
ana discovered  a  fact  about  her  husband  she 
hadn't  learned  in  six  years  of  quarreling. 
Indifferent  to  homeownership,  Guy  was  ex- 
tremely interested  in  rare  California  plants 
and  flowers,  an  interest  dating  back  to  de- 
pression times  when  he  worked  as  a  yard  boy 
on  a  big  estate.  In  the  end,  a  small  house 
with  a  large  back  yard  was  purchased  'so 
Guy  can  have  a  garden.'  Diana  and  Guy 
now  garden  enthusiastically  together — gar- 
dening was  their  first  common  interest.  As 
an  outgrowth  of  Diana's  genuine  interest  in 
his  gardening,  Guy  became  interested  in  her 
love  of  painting,  and  joined  the  evening  art 
class  at  which  he  had  previously  jeered.  Two 
pictures  hang  in  their  living  room— a  land- 
scape by  Diana,  a  seascape  by  Guy.  She  con- 


siders his  painting  far  better  than  hers,  and 
is  quick  to  call  the  attention  of  visitors  to  its 
beauties.  The  two  have  changed  their  pat- 
tern of  destructive  criticism  into  a  construc- 
tive pattern  of  mutual  praise  and  approval. 
Indeed,  their  in-law  problems  have  been 
solved;  they  can  calmly  discuss  the  short- 
comings of  their  kin  because  they  now  un- 
derstand the  '  why '  of  their  elders'  failings 
and  virtues. 

"A  year  ago  Diana  gave  up  her  job.  Yes, 
'little  Guy'  was  wanted  by  both— so  badly 
wanted  Diana  is  now  awaiting  the  birth  of  a 
second  child.  Diana  doesn't  need  to  demand 
assistance  from  Guy,  because  he  gives  it 
freely,  anticipating  her  wants  because  of  his 
pride  and  joy  in  his  wife  and  his  child  and  his 
home.  The  two  frequently  inform  us  they  are 
supremely  happy.  Diana  and  Guy  now  work 
at  marriage.  They  have  earned  and  possess  a 
good  and  successful  and  loving  union." 

Editors^  Note:  This  case  history  was  citmpiled  and 
condensed  from  actual  records  hy 

DOROTHY  CAMERON  DISNEY 


THE  KI§S  OF  XORA  WIL§OX 


That  kind  always  are  trying  to  leave  the 
place.  "A  little  house  in  Westchester 
County,"  they  always  were  telling  AI.  "A 
little  grass.  That's  all  I  want.  How  I  hate 
this  city." 

"You  fool,  you,"  Al  would  say. 

He  was  born  in  a  small  Maryland  town 
and  grew  up  there.  He  swam  in  its  river, 
broke  an  arm  falling  out  of  a  tree  and  other- 
wise lived  the  unconsciously  delightful  life 
of  a  boy.  When  he  was  seventeen  he  went  to 
the  University  of  North  Carolina,  where  for 
four  years  he  lived  in  continual  happiness  as 
a  mildly  heroic  campus  figure  at  Chapel 
Hill  he  played  halfback— and  was  grad- 
uated just  about  in  time  to  enlist  in  the 
United  States  Marine  Corps. 

He  was  forever  a  half  step  behind  the  war. 
When  they  were  fighting  on  Guam,  he  was 
stationed  in  the  Virgin  Islands,  and  when  he 
got  to  Guam  the  place  had  been  secured  and 
tliey  were  off  somewhere  else.  He  had  two 
and  a  half  years  of  it  and  when  he  emerged 
as  a  first  lieutenant  he  looked  up  Will 
Russell,  who  had  been  a  real  four-alarm  fire 
as  an  amateur  photographer  in  their  Chapel 
Hill  days.  They  knew  what  they  wanted. 
They  took  the  earliest  train  to  New  York, 
where,  with  the  ridiculous  innocence  of  the 
skillful  young,  they  set  up  an  advertising- 
photography  studio.  Will  took  the  pictures 
and  Al  decided  what  to  charge  the  clients. 
It  was  simple. 

That  had  been  five  and  a  half  years  before. 
Now  they  had  arrived.  The  rent  was  paid, 
the  bank  account  bulged,  the  rates  were 
deliciously  high  and  the  backlog  of  work 
was  comfortably  staggering.  At  thirty  Al 
was  a  success.  A  success  in  business— but, 
more  importantly,  a  success  in  that  he  had 
knifed  nobody  and  cut  nobody's  throat  to 
get  there  .  .  .  and  a  success,  most  impor- 
tantly, in  that  he  was  settled  firmly  in  Man- 
hattan. For  the  rest  of  his  natural  days,  of 
course. 

He  had  fallen  for  it  the  first  full  day  he 
ever  spent  there,  and  now  he  lived  in  a 
bachelor's  apartment  off  Gramercy  Park. 
He  went  to  the  theater  if  he  felt  like  it  and 
he  rode  the  subway  with  airy  indolence  if  he 
felt  like  it.  He  bought  the  morning  papers 
the  night  before  and  he  walked  along  Park 
Avenue  in  the  rain.  He  read  "What  Has 
Happened  to  Justice?  "  avidly  in  the  Sunday 
News  and  he  sat  in  the  upper  deck  of  the 
Polo  Grounds  on  Sundays  and  coaxed  the 
Giants  home  to  victory.  He  had  a  key  to 
Gramercy  Park,  like  the  others  who  lived 
in  the  apartments  fronting  that  rugged  little 
individualist  among  parks,  and  when  he 
wanted  to  remember  what  nature  was  like 
he  went  over  there  and  looked  at  a  tree  or 
two  and  lazily  watched  the  small  fry  bargain- 


(Coniiniied  from  Page  45) 

ing  with  their  nursemaids  to  buy  them 
popsicles. 

I'm  living,  he  told  himself  complacently. 
He  was  too. 

He  turned  the  convertible  off  the  West 
Side  Highway  at  57th  Street,  drove  idly 
through  Times  Square  as  if  to  purge  himself 
of  any  country  diseases  he  might  have 
acquired,  and  finally  left  the  car  in  its  22nd 
Street  garage.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  when  he 
walked  through  the  lobby  of  his  apartment 
building,  passed  the  time  of  night  with  Joe 
the  doorman  and  then  went  upstairs  and 
stuck  his  key  into  the  door  of  3-B. 

There  was  one  piece  of  mail  under  the 
door  from  the  past  Saturday  morning.  It 
was  the  kind  of  mail  that  can  really  tie  up  a 
holiday  week  end  for  you  nice  and  tight.  The 
kind  of  mail  that  can  settle  most  of  your 
immediate  problems  and  take  away  any 
hunger  pains  or  thirsts  you  might  be  troubled 
with  at  eleven  o'clock  at  night.  It  seemed 
the  United  States  Marine  Corps  had  been 
studying  its  reserve  list  thoughtfully— and, 
well,  would  First  Lieutenant  Hanneman  be 
so  kind  as  to  get  his  affairs  in  order  once  more 
and  lend  an  experienced  hand?  Just  for  a 
bit— oh,  a  year  or  so.  Please? 

Al  Hanneman  pulled  oft  his  cashmere 
overcoat  and  his  sports  jacket,  dropped 
them  onto  a  chair  in  the  foyer  and  went  into 
the  living  room,  with  its  dry  musty  air  and 
the  faint  scent  of  ancient  pipe  smoke. 

He  opened  the  Venetian  blinds  slowly  and 
pulled  them  up;  then  he  opened  the  window 
and  drew  up  a  chair  before  it.  The  night  was 
clear  and  cold  and  the  park  was  deserted. 
By  craning  his  neck,  he  could  see  the  top  of 
the  Empire  State  Building  a  dozen  blocks 
away.  Two  drunks  got  out  of  a  cab  and 
tried  to  make  it  to  the  door  of  a  brownstone. 
Gramercy  Park  is  as  quiet  as  any  section  of 
Manhattan,  but  by  sitting  there  quietly  he 
could  hear  the  faint,  unending  din  of  the 
city— the  faraway  auto  horns,  somebody 
laughing,  the  subway  train  clearing  its 
throat,  the  mutter  of  eight  million  souls  that 
never  quite  dies  away. 

Well,  Al  Hanneman  said  to  himself,  hold- 
ing the  long  white  envelope  in  one  hand, 
sitting  there  before  his  city.  Well,  gee. 

You  could  think  of  something  better  to 
say,  maybe? 

The  town  was  named,  oh,  so  appropriately, 
Ragville.  The  air  base  was  Welland  Field, 
90  per  cent  Air  Force  and  10  per  cent  United 
States  Marines,  for  some  logically  illogical 
reason.  The  state  was  Texas. 

It  was  a  kind  of  soldiering  completely  new 
to  Henry  Alistair  Hanneman.  When  his  days 
of  football  glory  had  ended  at  Chapel  Hill 
and  he  had  become  a  boot  at  Parris  Island, 
he  had  skipped  the  life-in-a-small-town  that 


drove  so  many  Brooklyn  and  Bronx  service- 
men right  out  of  their  metropolitan  minds. 
He  had  gone  right  overseas. 

There  were  five  thousand  people  living  in 
Ragville.  It  had  one  movie  house  and  the 
drinking  places  all  were  garish  little  saloons 
with  red-checked  cloths  on  the  tables,  the 
men  customers  in  sports  shirts  and  the 
women  in  flat  heels.  To  a  Nev/  Yorker  the 
clothes  in  the  shops  were  impossible,  the 
pedestrians  moved  too  slowly  and  the  culture 
was,  to  be  gentle,  nonexistent. 

This,  remember,  is  the  way  a  New  Yorker 
looked  at  it.  Nobody  lives  in  a  more  rarefied, 
hothouse,  eerie  world  than  New  Yorkers. 
Likely  Ragville  was  no  better,  no  worse  than 
a  thousand  other  small  towns  in  America. 
Probably  had  a  sight  more  churchgoers  than 
New  York,  proportionately,  and  probably 
contained  no  soul  so  interested  in  knifing  his 
neighbor  in  the  back  as  any  number  of 
Manhattanites  who  could  be  named. 

It  was  just  that  Al  Hanneman  and  Rag- 
ville were  oil  and  water. 

To  him  there  was  a  dusty,  stifling  air  about 
the  place.  The  men  citizens  talked  about 
their  automobiles  and  whether  a  new  culvert 
would  be  built  at  Main  and  Chestnut;  the 
women  citizens  talked  logically  but  dully 
about  how  to  bake  a  blueberry  pie.  The  girl 
citizens  giggled  and  said  something  like, 
"Aren't  you  the  fresh  one,  though?" 

The  place  in  which  he  lived  and  the  people 
who  surrounded  him  were  important  things 
to  Al  Hanneman.  He  was  pretty  normal;  he 
could  read  a  book  and  sometimes  did,  and 
he  could  hole  up  in  a  jungle  for  three  months 
if  he  had  to.  To  an  extent  he  could  live 
within  himself.  But  he  didn't  particularly 
want  to.  He  wanted  to  enjoy  the  things  he 
saw,  the  men  and  women  he  talked  with,  the 
way  he  lived  .  .  .  the  feeling. 

For  a  month  he  gave  it  a  square  chance. 
As  an  officer  he  had  a  chance  to  get  into 
town  almost  every  night  if  he  wanted  to,  but 
he  spaced  it  out.  Two  nights  or  so  a  week.  A 
movie  one  night,  a  little  beering  the  other. 

Sometimes  a  brother  lieutenant  named 
Fletcher,  a  refrigerator-company  salesman  in 
real  life,  came  into  town  with  him. 

"This  ain't  no  Cleveland,"  he  said  one 
night  as  they  walked  past  the  notion  stores. 
"You  might  call  this  practically  the  last 
outpost  of  civilization." 

"You  might,"  Al  said  moodily,  "except 
civilization  never  reached  here." 

They  changed  their  routine  that  night. 
They  had  two  ice-cream  sodas  each  at  a 
corner  druggist's. 

Of  all  the  appendages  of  a  small  town,  it  is 
likely  the  country  club  would  be  the  most 
obnoxious  to  someone  as  hipped  on  Gotham 
as  Al  Hanneman.  And  so  it  would  have  been 


■'xccpt  Hull  il  was  al  llu'  Ranvillc  Coiiiiiry 
L'.liib,  a  confusinu  cross  between  a  juke  joiiii 
and  a  driving  range,  that  lie  met  Nora 
Wilson. 

It  was  at  a  St.  Valentine's  Day  dance.  A 
iclecl  few  rtf  the  men  from  Wellaiici  I'ield, 
•haperoiied  by  a  couple  of  ollicers,  iiad  i)eeii 
nvited.  The  pride  of  (iramercy  I'ark  was 
imoni',  tliem.  i-'or  an  liour  he  walclied  the 
niddle-ancd  drunks  and  the  crude  pliilander- 
nn  llial  is  an  accoulermenl  of  any  country 
lul),  sniall-  oi-  larui'-town.  He  had  a  Jeej) 
ilashcd  away  in  the  parking  lot  oulsidi'  and 
If  had  decided  lo  make  a  break  for  it  and  no 
)ack  lo  liie  i)ost  to  watch  Fletcher  read 
oiiiic  books  wlien.  in  a  last  look  al  the  dance 
loor,  he  saw  Nora  Wilson  suffering  through 
t  fox  Irol  with  an  amiable  l)ut  quite  |)las- 
cred  cor|)()ra!. 

•jiiK  was  smiliiin.  Vou  had  lo  be  the  kind 
if  man  wlio's  kind  lo  doKS  to  know  she  was 
ufferinu.  Al  Haiineman,  a  kind  man  wilii 
loKS,  could  lell  from  the  way  slie  held  lier 
lead.  or  somelliin^i.  that  she  wanled  to  be- 
ny where  else,  lie  si^iied  and  cut  in. 

lM)r  a  momenl  they  just  danced,  not  say- 
anyUiin.n.  Nora  Wilson  was  small  and 
lender  and  she  had  short  brown  hair  and 
ir.ye  brown  eyes.  She  danced  well  but  kind 
f  absent-mindedly.  lie  k)oked  down  at  her. 

"You  don't  siiUJilt'."  he  said. 

The  eyes  were  awfully  bi.u  when  she  looked 
t  him.  "Why  should  I  .niK^le?" 

"All  Rativille  ^irls  Ki.tigle."  He  tried  not  to 
lake  il  sound  bitter.  You  could  feel  miser- 
ble  about  a  way  of  life,  but  it  was  bad 
lanners  lo  insult  a  practitioner  of  il.  "I 
lean,  I  don't  know  c|uile  what  lo  say  when 
liey  l^i^;,l^lc.  Il  demands  a  certain  answer,  I 
uess,  and  I  have  no  idea  what  kind." 

They  danced  easily  and  quietly  and  il 
'asn'l  loo  hard  to  forget  Ihe  sad  lillle 
ve-i)ioce  band  knocking  itself  out  in  Ihe 
:)riier  of  the  ballroom.  Her  waist  was  tight 
nd  yet  pliable  under  his  hand  and  she 
allowed  his  leading  like  a  chip  of  wood  on 
le  waves.  Her  dress  was  while  and  she 
iielled  of  nice  soap.  No  perfume.  You  could 
.'e  her  doing  a  one-and-a-half  off  the  Iwent  y- 
)ol  board. 

"You  from  New  York?"  she  asked. 

"God's  country,"  he  said. 

"You  must  hale  it  here." 

He  was  sure  il  hadn't  shown  that  much. 
What  gave  you  lhal  idea?" 

She  couldn't  have  been  much  more  than 
yenty,  bul  she  looked  up  at  him  and  gave 
ini  a  warm  lillle  smile,  like  a  maiden  aunt, 
[e  felt  almost  as  if  he  had  been  caught  al 
le  cooky  jar. 

They  linished  out  the  one  dance,  stayed 
)gelher  automatically  on  the  floor  and  then 
Dl  halfway  through  another  one  when  she 
lokcd  at  him,  cjuickly.  earnestly. 

"Can  you  li.\  a  faulty  ignition  on  a  car?" 
le  demanded.  She  had  him  by  Ihe  hand 
:fore  he  could  answer  and  was  lugging  him 
'i  the  dance  floor  toward  the  French  doors 
ading  outside.  "I  worked  a  half  hour  on 
lis  before  I  came  in,  bul  theri  I  had  lo  slop 
■  Mrs.  Gallagher  would  have  been  angry." 

"Who's  Mrs.  Gallagher?"  he  asked.  "Lis- 
:n,  what  I  don't  know  about  a  car  would 
I  an  encyclopedia.  Ignitions,  yet.  My  ciga- 
itle  lighter  doesn't  even  work." 

"She's  the  head  of  the  conimillee  seeing 
lal  the  visiting  servicemen  have  a  good 
me,"  she  said.  "Over  here,  now.  Watch 
>ur  step.  Don't  bang  against  the  Caddy, 
hat's  Billy  Cole's." 

"Nice  job,"  he  said. 

"Il  looks  funny  in  this  town."  she  said. 
This  isn't  a  Caddy  town." 

"You  don't  look  the  type  who'd  worry 
X)ul  what  people  thought  of  the  car  you 
"ove,"  he  said. 

She  slopped  in  the  dark  and  looked  up  al 
m  and  her  face  was  solemn  and  prelly.  "  I 
/e  here,"  she  said.  "Every  day  of  the  year, 
live  here  a  lol.  I  gol  lo  be  more  or  less  Ihe 
ay  you're  supposed  to  be  in  a  place  like 
agville." 

"Have  to  be,  not  gol  lo  be." 
She  studied  his  face  carefully.  "With  you 
can  say  gol  to  be,"  she  said.  She  smiled  at 
m  and  Ihey  stood  there  a  second ;  then  she 
ok  him  over  to  a  little  green  convertible  - 


'     \    !•    I     I      -  II  <, 

he  knew  she'd  have  a  converlibk-  wh««. 
ho(Kl  she  ra.sc-d  Willi  a  Ihinhli^^hl  nhe  |mk.-fl 
out  what  ho  Hup|K.s<'d  was  the  iKniiion  cable- 
then  she  began  inking  around  at  il  uivmu 
liim  the  llashliKht  lo  l,„ld  She  l.n.ked  an  ,( 
she  knew  wiial  she  was  doiuK  nr)t  lhal  Al 
Hannenian  would  know.  '  ClostT,"  slie  Haul 
"hold  It  closer."  She  iwiHled  nonielhiiig  and 
yanked  something  else.  "I  ^ot  it."  nhe  naifl 
•I  gol  il." 
"l/arc  it." 

She  linished  what  she  was  doinn,  then 
slammed  liie  IkkkI  down  and  turned  aroiuid 
and  kM)ked  al  him,  smiling.  She  showed  him 
her  hands,  8ix)lied  with  greasi'.  and  he 
passed  her  a  iiandkerchief. 

"I'm  Nora  Wilson,"  she  said. 

"Al  Hanneman." 

She  kxjked  al  iiim  a  momenl,  a|)praisinK 
him  with  llie  detached  coolness  of  a  small 
girl.  "Let's  go  for  a  ride  and  try  out  the 
ignition  cable,"  she  said.  She  seemed,  sud- 
denly, a  lillle  embarrassed.  "I'm  not  the 
kind  of  nirl  wiio  wants  to  park  somewhere 
and  bi'  kissed."  she  added,  defensively  but 
apologetically.  "Even  if  you  Ihou^hl  I  was 
worth  kissing." 

The  jiride  of  the  horse  marines  grinned  at 
her.  "You're  worth  kissing."  he  said  admir- 
ingly. 

She  smiled  a  little  smile  back  at  him. 
"Thank  you."  she  said.  She  held  a  door  of 
the  green  convertible  open,  he  gol  in  and 
they  drove  off  lo  try  out  the  ignition  cable. 

Even  a  town  like  Ragville  has  a  hill  from 
which  you  can  see  everything.  Every  town 
has.  Nora  Wilson  drove  to  il  and  they  stopped 
the  car  and  got  out,  she  with  a  rust-colored 
polo  coal  around  her  shoulders,  and  they 
sal  on  an  upr(X)lcd  tree  trunk  and  looked  al 
everything.  Some  in  the  town  had  gone  to 
bed,  bul  others  slill  were  up,  and  in  the 
night  you  could  see  a  lighted  window  here 
and  there,  people  occasionally  passing  in 
front  of  them  bul  no  sound  to  be  heard 
except  crickets  or  the  wind  or  a  night  bird. 
They  saw  a  couple  of  planes  coming  in  while 
they  sat  there,  the  llaps  letting  down  grad- 
ually and  the  lights  shining  and  the  big 
bombers  leveling  out  in  the  long,  rushing 
glides  to  the  runways  a  few  miles  away. 

Il  didn't  matter  who  Ihey  were;  not  even 
lhal  they  were  man  and  woman.  The  night 
was  peaceful  and  the  sky  all-enveloping  and 
God  obviously  w-as  in  His  heaven.  .'\l  Hanne- 
man lighted  a  cigarette  and  relaxed  in  a  long 
sigh,  the  way  he  did  lhal  New  Year's  Night 
when  he  was  fleeing  from  Maine's  recon- 
structed farmhouses. 

"This  is  more  like  it."  he  said. 

"'  They  are  not  /»«,(;,  the  days  of  wine  and 
roses.'"  she  said  absently  "'out  of  a  niisly 
dream  ' " 

"■  Out  path  emerg,es  for  a  while,  then 

closes,  within  a  dream.' "  he  said.  "  Where  did 
you  ever  learn  Ernest  Dowson?  Nobody 
reads  him  any  more.  He's  unfashionable." 

"What  are  you  so  unhappy  ab<:)ul?"  she 
asked,  disregarding  the  question. 

He  sighed  his  end-of-lhe-world  sigh.  "Not 
really  unhappy."  he  said.  "  Jusl  beat  down.  I 
don't  want  lo  insull  you,  bul  I  can't  help 
telling  somebody.  This  is  a  grubby,  back- 
ward, miserable  little  town  and  I  go  nuts  in 
il." 

"It's  not  so  bad,"  she  said.  "It  has  its 
points.  I  could  show  you  sides  of  il  lhal 
would  make  you  feel  belter  about  il." 

He  sal  on  Ihe  tree  trunk,  smoking  his 
cigarette  and  looking  al  her.  "I  accept,"  he 
said.  "I  don't  believe  it.  bul  I  accept." 

"It's  not  lhal  easy."  she  said.  "In  the 
first  place,  I  shouldn't  even  be  here  with  you 
now,  if  you  look  al  il  one  way.  I'm  enga.tjed 
to  be  married." 

"I'm  glad  we  gol  thai  oul  of  the  way 
early,"  he  said,  "before  I  fell  desperately  in 
love  with  you." 

"Slop  kidding  for  a  minute." 

"I  guess  I  am,  at  thai.  Or  am  I?" 

"George  trusts  me,"  she  said,  "so  I  sup- 
pose I  could  try  lo  make  you  feel  a  lillle 
more  al  home.  He  wouldn't  mind.  And  I 
would  be  kind  of  doing  something  lo  help  at 
least  one  serviceman's  morale."  She  wenl  on 
the  defensive  a  lillle.  "George  is  a  good 
man." 


"  Ik  laid.  "Ynu 
ly  other  kind 


Ml        I    'I    I  i; 

I  If  luKldt  d    •  N'.ii  I 
woiildn'i  Ijf 
Anylxxly  fnl^'l, 

"  Von,"  shr  KIlU. 

"What  Hide  of  RaKvillc  arc  you  KoinK  to 
nhow  me  liml  ?" 

"My  Aunl  Phil,  I  kuwh,"  the  taid.  "Put 
yourlx  Hi  IfKii  forwarrl.  I'm  told. "She  wtiilwl 
thai  candid  and  yi  i  nhy  mnilf , 

riity  tun  there  <»ii  Tdwit  Mill  xiifne  riw»re 
and  linally  ihe  lime  tame  in  ko  When  il 
did,  Nora  Wiliton  looked  at  luiii  What  <»Ik- 
said  was  "Well"  What  ulie  wanted  lo  Kty 
was,  W'f  should  htirr  wri  Minir  Innt  a^o. 

"Well."  he  HJiid 

lie  followed  her  into  Ihe  i^reen  convert ibli- 
and  Ihey  drove  hack  lo  the  dubhouM-  and 
hiK  jeepin  what  couUI  lK  dii«criUd.  generally, 
as  a  silent«v  A  cryptic  Hilt  nce,  if  you  wani  to 
l)e  elo(|uent  He  woke  up  Flelclier  lor  a 
cu-arelie  when  he  noi  hack  lo  the  biim-.  but 
brother  Fleicher,  a  simple  bul  inHlinclive 
man.  refrained  from  converHiiiion  It  wan 
just  as  well.  What  was  there  lo  s;iy? 

Nora  wasn't  completely  right,  Even  a 
l)ody  by  Fisher  and  a  setiinv;  by  Uenoir 


O^OOOOOOOOOOO 


COULD  YOU  SAY  IT  WITTIER? 

Edited  b/  John  M.  Hnnry 

A  woman  driver  It  a  perton  who 
drives  like  a  man  but  itn't  allowed  to 
get  awoy  with  If.        akin  shiomorc 

In  Millbroob.  N.  r  ,  Round  Tobi* 

Vacatlonlit  to  drugglit:  "Have  you 
anything  that't  good  for  motquito 
bites  on  top  of  poison  ivy,  over  sun- 
burn?" —  MANAGE  MAGAZINE 

A  newspaper  publisher  offered  a  trip 
to  Bermuda  as  a  prize  for  the  best 
answer  to  the  question:  "Why  is  a 
newspaper  like  a  woman?"  The  prize 
went  to  the  woman  who  wrote:  "Be- 
cause every  man  should  get  one  of 
his  own,  and  not  look  at  his  neigh- 
bor's." NATIONAL  PUBLISHER 

Any  man  can  prove  he  has  very  good 
judgment  by  saying  you  hove. 

-FAIRFIELD.  CONN..  NEWS 

"There  are  women  who  can  dish  it 
out  better  than  they  can  cook  it." 

—  IN  GRAND  RAPIOS.  IVIICH.. 

STAG  LINE  ' 


wouldn't  have  helped  Ragville  much.  It 
slill  was  a  lillle  town  and  its  people  thought 
lillle.  acted  little  and  said  little  of  interest 
lo  Henry  Alislair  Hannenian.  Bul  a  sleepy, 
nuiddy  little  river  full  of  crawfish  skittering 
along  flagstones  in  shallow  water  look  on 
considerable  added  charm  when  pointed  out 
by  Nora  Wilson.  A  roller-skaling  rink,  un- 
bearable under  normal  conditions  to  a  so- 
phisticate like  Al  Hanneman,  had  its  amiable 
moments  when  she  was  along. 

Aunl  Phil  was  a  double-dyed  ball  of  fire. 
Nora  lived  with  her.  She  had  a  little  green 
house  on  Ihe  edge  of  town,  about  five  miles 
in  all  from  Ihe  foothills  of  a  chain  of  Texas 
hills  where  she  used  lo  ride  horseback  in  her 
youth.  Nora  rode  there  now.  usually  by 
herself.  George  tried  hard,  bul  he  sal  a  horse 
like  Ichabod  Crane,  and  Aunl  Phil,  while  she 
was  lively  and  little  and  perl,  also  was  kind 
of  old.  She  didn't  kid  herself  ah)out  it. 

"I  would  like  lo  be  young  always."  she 
said,  her  blue  eyes  snapping,  "but  by  the 
poleslar,  I'm  nol.  I'm  old.  Come  on.  Har- 
rison, I'll  give  you  three  strokes  a  round." 
This  referred  lo  a  nine-hole  pulling  ijreen 
lhal  she  kepi  groomed  magnificently  ia  the 
back  of  the  lillle  green  house,  in  lieu  of  the 
inevitable  garden. 

Three  strokes  a  round.  She  should  have 
paid  him  lo  play.  There  wasn't  a  man  in 
Ra",fville  who  could  come  within  six  strokes 
of  her  when  she  was  on  her  game.  On  the 
green  she'd  have  made  the  National  Open 
champion  look  like  a  be.einner. 


It.t 


fe, 
Iw 

h." 
hv 

of 


th. 

had  oi.i 
out  •>( 
Ini 

It. 

i.;al: 
A! 

iHiii-caibuiLloi  Muiidci.  IajI  a  iiixt  ciiuui^i. 
bfirttain 

TllHV  »lopii«l  in  »Fn  on*"  nfn-rrvjofi 

in  the  It  ' 
had  H. 

at  Aunt  i'liil  '<  Mii:  iiiidii  i  nad  ui  l'aiji.  iuh. 
very  hard. 

"TliiHisiheman  I'm  !' 
lo,  (ieorKf,"  .Nora  naid 
into  the  station  and  v..i.,.<i\  .1;., .;.(;  11,1 
cv)unter.  full  of  oilcan*  and  road  md\n.  to 
his  desk  in  the  back. 

(•eorgc  just  Knnncd.  "I'm  bcKinninK  to 
look  on  you  as  opix»«ition,"  he  said  cheer- 
fully, shakint;  hands 

Al  laughed.  "11''!^  nuine  pleaxurc." 
lie  s;iid,  "but  I  K'  .( ." 

Cieorge  lfX)ked  '/,.;  .1  Sura.  She  never 
was  really  confused,  bul  this  came  tk/v- 
"  If  I  had  lo  keep  her  with  a  lfx:k  and  key.  I 
wouldn't  want  her,"  he  said. 

"My  guess  would  be  thai  nobody  could 
keep  her  wilh  kx-k  and  key,"  Al  said. 

She  was  juggling  three  spark  plugs  with 
considerable  skill  and  they  both  l<x)ked  at 
her  until  finally  she  dropjxd  one. 

"  I  don't  have  lo  ask  you  how  you  like 
Ragville,"  George  said.  "  I  visited  New  York 
once."  He  shfxik  his  head.  "I  can  see  how 
It  would  get  into  your  blood."  Then  he 
looked  around,  al  the  station,  the  oilcans, 
the  dusty  highway  outside  the  glass  show 
windows,  the  Texas  hills  in  the  distance.  "  I 
guess  Ragville  doesn't  Ret  in  anybody's 
bkxxi  very  much,"  he  said.  He  offered  Al  a 
cigarette  and  he  lighted  a  pipe  for  himself. 
"Bul  somehow  the  sky  and  g"^?n  grass  and 
once  in  a  while  the  honk  of  a  wild  goose 
overhead  you  know,  that  kind  of  thing  — 
make  cities  seem  pretty  trivial  sometimes." 

Al  nodded.  "  I  can  imagine,"  he  said.  "My 
trouble  is.  New  York  got  into  my  blood." 

■■.■\re  you  going  swimming  with  us?" 
Nora  demanded. 

George  shook  his  head.  "  I  have  to  work." 
he  said,  "to  make  enough  money  10  marry 
you.  You  two  go  on." 

Al  looked  back  at  him  as  they  were  head- 
ing out  the  door.  "  I  wish  you  had  turned  oul 
to  be  a  mealhead."  he  said  wistfully.  They 
smiled  al  each  other.  like  two  men  who 
didn't  mind  each  other  at  all.  and  the  swim- 
mers went  oul. 

They  swam  in  the  river  where  it  widened 
a  few  miles  out  of  town  and  Nora  Wilson 
looked  perhaps  best  of  all  in  a  bathing  suit. 
Aunt  Phil  had  warned  .\1  Hanneman.  "See 
how  far  this  friend-of-the-family  deal  goes 
after  you  see  her  in  a  bathing  suit."  she 
had  said  impatiently.  .Aunt  Phil  was  right. 

Spring  came,  and  early  summer,  and  then 
the  fine,  full  hot  flush  of  genuine  summer, 
loasty  and  dry  under  the  Texas  sun.  Al 
Hanneman  thought  he  would  look  back  on 
il  as  the  summer  of  grand  confusion. 

There  was  nothing  confusing  about  life 
with  the  United  States  Marines.  It  was 
reasonably  apparent,  once  the  die  had  been 
cast,  lhal  he  was  going  lo  finish  out  a  year 
or  so  of  passably  useful  but  quiet  duty  al 
\\'elland  Field  and  then  was  going  lo  be 
permitted  lo  return  to  civilization  for  a 
second  and.  likely,  permanent  time.  No, 
life  with  the  United  States  Marines  was 
fairly  simple.  You  did  your  appointed  tasks, 
tried  to  remind  the  beardless  ones  that  a 
boy  s  best  friend  was  his  rifie.  and  that  was 
lhal.  The  days  came  and  went. 

iCnnlinued  on  Pagf  X6> 


pacific  A  WMJ  kt  I  l^t  TOP 


It 


BOTTOM 


Gives  twice  the  sleeping  comfort — 

cuts  bedmaking  time  to  one 

Two  boxed  corners  hold  the  foot — 

it  can't  pull  off  your  feet. 

Expansion  Fold  gives  "kick-room" — 
it  never  binds  your  feet. 


Good-bye  to  tiresome  retucking — 
the  tuck-in  is  huiU  in. 


FAMOUS  PACIFIC  CORNER 
.  .  .  strongest,  longest-wearing  type! 

Arrow  shows  P;gjnt  of  greatest  strain  on  corner. 
Tape  on  Contour  prevents  rips  and  tears.  Pacific 
makes  the  strongest  and  longest-wearing  type  of 
corner  in  fitted  sheets.  Loved  by  millions,  the  famous 
bottom  Contour  has  four  of  these  boxed  corners  to 
hold  it  taut.  It  can't  wrinkle  . .  .  can't  pull  out! 


TOP  Contour  Sheet— the  NEW  Contour  you  asked  for 


Letter  after  letter  from  enthusiastic  owners  of  the  famous  Bottom  Contour 
asked  us  to  make  a  stay-put  top  sheet.  Designed  with  two  boxed  corners, 
the  Top  Contour  stays  secure  at  the  foot  .  .  .  can't  creep  off  your  feet.  Ends 
daily  retucking.  Just  a  tug  at  the  top  hem  smooths  the  sheet  in  the  morning. 


Smooth  sleeping  for  Baby  .  .  . 
on  a  stay-put  Contour  Crib  Sheet! 

And  less  work  for  Mother!  Baby  ccfn't 
wrinkle  or  pull  out  the  Cribfast* — it's  a 
Contour  Crib  Sheet!  No  tying,  no  pinning 
necessary.  No  sagging  elastic.  In  white 
muslin,  for  long  wear,  or  downy-soft 
percale  in  white,  pink,  blue,  yellow, 
or  mint. 


Get  matching  Pocific  Pillow- 
cases— they're  Sanforized*  to 
keep  their  fit.  Made  to  wear 
beautifully  in  Pacific  Combed 
Percale  or  Extra-Strength  Muslin; 





EXPANSION  FOLD 
—  Pacific's  invention  gives  Icick-room! 

No  other  sheet  can  match  the  superb  comfort  of  the  new  Top  Contour.  The 
unique  Expansion  Fold  accordions  out  to  give  six  full  inches  of  kick-room. 
Drops  flat  for  smooth  bedmaking.  Top  Contour  has  full  width,  free  sides — 
you  can  turn  in  bed  with  ease.  Full  length  for  ample  turn-back  over  blankets. 


Sleep  between  Contour  Sheets  ... 
they  cost  no  more! 

Best  news  of  all — these  new  luxury  Contours 
don't  cost  any  more!  Top  and  Bottom  Contours  in 
two  qualities — Pacific  Combed  Percale  or 
extra-soft,  Extra-Strength  Muslin.  Sanforized*  for 
lasting  fit.  Available  for  standard  double  or 
twin  beds  and  in  muslin  for  youth  beds.  Sizes 
adjust  to  slight  variations  in  mattress  thickness. 
At  your  favorite  store  or  write  for  booklet  and 
name  of  nearest  store  to  Pacific  Mills,  Dept.  Dl, 
I  407  Broadway,  New  York  I  8,  N.  Y. 

*Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  OR. 


ONLY 


p/ic/rw 


MAKES 


J^WfL  SHEETS 


i\6 


I.  \  1)  I  i: 


II    <)    \l  K 


.1  ()  I  i{ 


A  I. 


Jiiniiary,  1953 


(Conliniied  from  Pane  S3} 

Miss  Nora  Wilson  made  up  for  all  this 
clarity.  Her  presence  just  a  few  short  miles 
from  Welland  Field  had  Al  Hanneman  in 
the  world's  greatest  flat  spin. 

First,  of  course,  there  was  George.  A  nice 
guy,  alas.  If  Al  went  riding  with  Nora  in  the 
green  convertible  he  wouldn't  dream  of 
putting  his  arm  around  her.  because  of 
George.  All  right,  he'd  dream  of  it,  but  he 
wouldn't  do  it. 

Then  there  was  the  fact  of  New  York 
being  a  thousand  or  two  miles  away. 

Maybe,  Al  Hanneman  would  say  to  i:im- 
self,  practically  subconsciously,  /  just  think 
she's  so  Grade  A  because  I'm  nowhere  mar 
New  York.  Maybe  she  isn't  so  wonderful. 
Maybe  it's  loneliness.  This  doesn't  sound 
anywhere  like  a  young  man  in  love— but  you 
must  remember  that  Al  Hanneman  was 
thirty.  At  thirty  you  reason  with  yourself, 
even  if  you  hate  it. 

Then  there  was  Nora  Wilson  herself.  Did 
she  love  George  Randall?  And  supposing 
if  by  some  miracle  she  didn't— what  made 
Al  Hanneman  believe  he  could  keep  her 
happy?  Girls  like  Nora  Wilson  aren't  to  be 
tucked  away  in  a  corner  with  an  apron  and 
a  record  player  or  a  television  set  and  tossed 
the  weekly  pay  check  on  Fridays.  Life  with 
them  is  a  two-way  deal— a  wonderful,  fas- 
cinating two-way  deal— and  the  man  who 
thinks  he  can  fill  their  lives  and  round  them 
to  perfection  with  his  love  is  a  brave  man. 

"If  I  didn't  know  what  your  problem 
was."  Aunt  Phil  said  one  steaming  August 
afternoon,  "I'd  ask  you."  She  cocked  her 
head  at  him.  "New  Yorkers  are  too 
complex." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?"  he  asked 
almost  belligerently.  "Break  that  down." 

"I  mean,  if  you  love  her,  why  don't  you 
ask  her  to  marry  you?"  she  said.  "Unless 
your  intentions  are  dishonorable,  which  is  a 
possibility  too." 

"It's  so  simple  to  you,  isn't  it?"  he  said 
darkly. 

"Love  conquers  all,"  she  said  somewhat 
smugly. 

"She's  engaged,"  he  said.  "  I  haven't  even 
kissed  her." 

"You're  a  fool." 

"What  about  George?  I  might  be  from 
New  York,  but  I'm  not  a  heel.  I  like  the 
man.  How  can  I  knife  him  in  the  back?" 

She  patted  him  on  the  arm.  "Easily,"  she 
said  calmly.  Then  she  eyed  him.  "All  right, 
suppose  you  do  have  scruples.  'You  love  her 
and  she  " 

"She  what?" 

Aunt  Phil  tugged  meditatively  at  a  lock  of 
gray.  "I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "I'm  never 
sure  what's  going  on  in  Nora's  head.  She's 
got  a  privacy  complex.  Maybe  she  loves 
you;  maybe  she  doesn't."  She  looked  ex- 
asperated. "You'll  never  know^  until  you  try 
to  find  out." 

"I  couldn't  do  that  to  George." 

"Tommyrot." 

Al  Hanneman  couldn't  help  laughing  at 
her.  Then  he  got  serious  again.  "There's 
another  thing,  Mrs.  Machiavelli,"  he  said, 
"and  maybe  this  is  the  biggest  obstacle. 
I'm  a  professional  New  Yorker— the  nuisance 
type,  the  kind  who  thinks  the  world  ends  at 
the  south  at  the  Battery  and  on  the  north 
at  Two-hundred-and-forty-second  Street.  I 
couldn't  be  happy  anywhere  else,  corny  as  it 
sounds.  Can  you  see  Nora  Wilson  living 
there,  away  from  her  beloved  grass  and  sky? 
You  never  see  sky  in  Manhattan." 

"I  can  see  her  living  anywhere  with  the 
man  she  loves,"  Aunt  Phil  said  serenely. 
"And  if  that's  corn,  make  the  most  of  it. 
It's  true." 

He  shook  his  head  wearily  and  got  up  and 
looked  out  the  picture  window  in  the  living 
room,  at  Texas  stretching  away  to  the  foot- 
hills. There  was  an  old  poem,  name  of  Lasca 
or  something,  that  went  /  want  free  life  and 
I  want  fresh  air  and  I  sigh  for  the  canter  after 
the  cattle. 

"Come  on,"  he  said  abruptly.  "I'll  play 
you  nine  holes." 

She  creaked  to  her  feet  and  looked  at 
him  disgustedly.  "You're  loo  easy."  she 
said.  "I'll  give  you  a  stroke  a  hole." 


They  picked  up  putters  at  the  back  door 
and  headed  out  for  the  green,  as  he  tousled 
her  hair  playfully  and  sadly. 

So  the  year  went.  Henry  Alistair  Han- 
neman just  thought  about  his  problems  and 
did  nothing.  George  and  Nora  didn't  get 
married,  because  they  had  one  of  those 
when-we-get-so-much-in-the-bank  arrange- 
ments mapped  out  and  her  birthday,  early  in 
March,  was  the  settling-up  time.  By  then, 
Al  Hanneman  figured,  he  would  be  out  of 
the  marines  and  back  in  Manhattan,  where 
forgetting  a  slim,  brown-haired  girl  with  big 
brown  eyes  is  about  as  easy  as  it  could  be 
anywhere. 

Nobody  knew  what  Nora  Wilson  figured. 

She  made  the  year  a  guided  tour  for  Al. 
She  brightened  Ragville  so,  Al  knew,  ten  or 
twenty  years  from  then  he  would  look  back 
on  it  fondly  and  remember  it  as  a  nice  little 
town,  which  would  be  a  lie.  But  what  she 
thought,  what  she  figured,  nobody  knew. 
One  November  afternoon  when  he  brought 
her  home  and  she  had  to  go  in  and  dress  for 
an  evening  dale  with  George,  she  kissed  him 
softly  on  the  forehead— but  he  couldn't 
figure  if  it  was  motherly,  passionate,  spiritual 
or  condescending.  A  kiss  on  the  forehead  is 
not  a  very  damaging  admission  of  anything. 

They  let  him  out  in  mid-January.  Nora 
drove  him  lo  the  train.  They  stopped  at 

SIP  in  iv  m  iiv  IIP  m  iiK  m  sip  mB  im  imi 


LIMITATIONS  OF  SCIENCE 

The  one  outstanding  thing  which 
science  cannot  do  is  to  control  human 
beings.  It  has  discovered  no  secret 
whereby  greed,  cruelty  and  lust 
can  be  exorcised.  It  has  not  abol- 
ished fear.  When  it  has  done  its  ut- 
most to  make  life  comfortable,  easy 
and  well  ordered,  the  deeper  hun- 
gers of  human  beings  remain  unsatis- 
fied— the  hunger  for  love  and  the 
hunger  for  spiritual  life. 

—A.  HERBERT  GRAY,  O.  D. 

The  Secret  of  Inward  Peace 
(Macmillan,  1948) 


George's  station  on  the  way  and  Al  said 
good-by  to  him  and  told  him  to  be  sure  and 
look  him  up  if  and  when  he  got  to  New  York, 
just  about  the  way  you  say  good-by  to 
people  you  meet  on  shipboard.  George  looked 
at  him  curiously  as  they  shook  hands. 

"Maybe  you'll  be  back  in  Texas  before  I 
ever  get  to  Manhattan."  he  said. 

Al  just  shook  his  head  and  smiled.  "I'm 
going  to  get  into  the  darnedest  metropolitan 
rut  you  ever  saw,"  he  said.  "The  only 
traveling  I'm  going  to  do  is  on  the  Staten 
Island  ferry." 

"M-m-m,"  George  said. 

Al  and  Nora  Wilson  drove  in  silence  to  the 
station.  There  was  only  about  five  minutes 
to  wait  before  the  express  pulled  in  like  a 
sweaty,  angry  race  horse,  and  it  was  just 
as  well.  He  got  his  bags  inside,  then  climbed 
back  down  the  stairs  and  stood  there  on  the 
platform  that  came  right  out  level  with  the 
rails,  waiting  awkwardly  and  miserably  for 
the  trainman  to  yell  '"Board!"  When  it 
came,  suddenly  and  frantically  he  wished  it 
hadn't. 

Nora  Wilson  looked  at  him,  sadly,  and  yet 
somehow  wholly,  completely,  eagerly.  "Kiss 
me,"  she  said. 

A  gentleman  named  Dr.  Henry  Gibbons 
once  described  a  kiss  as  the  anatomical 
juxtaposition  of  two  orbicularis  muscles  in  a 
state  of  contraction.  This  is  a  sinister  state- 
ment, but  may  be  true— of  a  certain  kind  of 
kiss.  Not  the  kind  that  Al  Hanneman  and 
Nora  Wilson  traded  that  mid-January  after- 
noon on  the  station  platform,  with  the 
express  waiting  impatiently.  Doctor  Gib- 
bons' kiss  was  logical,  tangible  and  describ- 
able.  Al's  and  Nora's  was  none  of  these. 
Theirs  was  a  year's  unspoken  backlog  of 
love  talk,  a  giant  step  across  the  endless 
months,  the  thousands  of  miles  soon  to 
split  them,  the  conventions,  the  red  tape. 


Theirs  was  not  a  silent-movie  kiss,  dragging 
by  the  hour  and  with  no  end  in  sight. 
Theirs  was  a  kiss.  Theirs  was  what  the  word 
was  made  for. 

The  conductor  began  slamming  the  iron 
safety  floor  at  the  car  entrance  and  shutting 
the  door,  and  Al  Hanneman  just  beat  him 
inside.  The  express  began  to  roll  and  he 
stood  there  at  the  closed  door  and,  through 
the  dust-streaked  window  glass,  watched 
her  going  away  from  him  as  she  stood  there 
in  a  brown  dress  and  white  gloves,  with  a 
light  coat  over  her  shoulders  and  her  eyes 
bigger  than  ever,  and  lovelier. 

The  wheels  didn't  go  Heinie  Manush  on 
that  trip.  You  know.  Heinie  Manush  was  an 
old  big-league  ballplayer.  When  you're  going 
home,  glad  to  be  going  and  impatient  to 
arrive,  the  train  wheels  always  go  Heinie 
Manush.  Heinie  Manush.  Heinie  Manush. 
Heinie  Manush. 

This  time  the  wheels  said  nothing  much  of 
importance,  and  Al  Hanneman  just  sal  and 
thought,  most  of  the  way  from  Ragville. 
Texas,  to  New  York,  N.  Y.  He  just  sat  and 
thought  of  everything  a  cautious  young  man 
in  love  can  think  about— of  living  with  a 
country  girl  in  the  city,  of  George  Randall 
who  ran  a  service  station,  of  Aunt  Phil 
telling  him  what  a  fool  he  was  ...  of  every- 
thing. 

But  the  scales  were  weighted.  Every  lime 
he'd  work  up  a  dogged,  valid  argument 
against  what  he  knew  he  wanted  to  do,  he'd 
put  that  kiss  on  the  other  scale— and  boom, 
down  it'd  go.  When  he  changed  trains  at 
Chicago  the  kiss  came  with  him,  and  when 
he  awoke  in  the  morning  and  saw  the  Hud- 
son River  outside  his  compartment  window, 
an  hour  out  of  New  York,  with  ice  blocks  on 
the  water  and  pure,  lovely  white  snow  on 
the  banks,  the  first  thing  he  thought  about 
was  the  kiss.  When  the  Twentieth  pulled 
into  Grand  Central  Terminal,  it  had  done 
its  work.  Henry  Alistair  Hanneman 's  course 
was  cut  out  for  him.  He  would  marry  the 
girl.  Or  try  to. 

Have  you  ever  come  upon  the  city  of 
New  York  quickly,  abruptly,  in  the  middle 
of  a  slushy,  cold,  miserable  winter?  If  you 
haven't,  don't. 

That  glossy,  enameled,  beautifully  brittle 
look  it  has  in  the  spring  and  autumn,  when 
the  girls  are  bandbox-fresh  and  the  men 
manage  to  look  something  like  the  old  collar 
ads- -that's  gone.  The  girls  all  wear  galoshes, 
alas,  and  the  men  have  no  creases  in  their 
trousers,  like  the  poor  London  men  who  get 
rain  every  day.  Sometimes  there  is  snow  in 
the  streets,  as  there  was  this  morning  when 
Al  Hanneman  arrived,  but  it's  the" dingiest, 
dirtiest,  most  trash-lilled  snow  imaginable. 
The  snow  on  a  country  field  and  the  snow  in 
42nd  Street  are  Jekyll  and  Hyde.  The  wind 
whips  through  the  cross-town  streets  from 
river  to  river,  chill  and  malevolent,  and 
winter  presses  its  miserable  cold  breath 
down  on  the  city  until  it  seems  endless. 
Spring  always  has  come,  you  tell  yourself, 
but  sometimes  it  makes  hard  telling. 

He  waited  twenty-six  minutes  for  a  cab 
at  the  terminal.  When  he  got  one.  the  driver 
eyed  him  coldly  and  unenthusiastically. 
They  came  up  out  of  the  innards  of  the 
station  into  Vanderbilt  Avenue,  and  the 
first  metropolitan  sight  that  greeted  Al 
Hanneman  was  a  drunk,  unseeing  and  all  at 
sea,  fighting  his  way  along  the  face  of  the 
Biltmore. 

The  stragglers  still  were  going  to  work  in 
the  streets;  from  the  cab  window  you  could 
get  a  cold  and  clear  view  of  them.  Al  Hanne- 
man watched  them  elbow  one  another  along, 
the  men  grim  and  flabby  and  uninspiring, 
the  women  with  their  faces  hard  and  set 
against  the  wind.  In  the  spring  and  autumn, 
if  you  are  a  New  Yorker,  the  people  in  your 
streets  are  so  magnificently  handsome.  In  the 
winter  they  are  such  sad  sacks. 

If  you  try  hard  and  if  you  have  any  slight, 
small  talent,  you  can  put  yourself  in  a 
person's  place  if  you  want.  Al  did  so  now.  He 
sat  there  in  the  back  of  the  cab  operated  by 
Dante  Abruzzo,  No.  334671,  and  he  was 
Nora  Wilson  coming  into  New  York.  When 
he  looked  up  at  the  grime-streaked  buildings, 
he  looked  up  as  Nora  Wilson— and,  instead 


"1 

if 


1 
* 
it 


tti 
it 


of  accepting  their  grandeur  as  always  with  a 
kind  of  calm  excitement,  he  got  the  feeling 
they  were  pressing  in  on  him,  depressing 
him,  frowning  at  him.  He  never  had  thought 
of  it  that  way  before. 

He  still  was  Nora  Wilson  as  the  cab  cut' 
down  Lexington  Avenue,  and  the  hell-for-' 
leather  traffic  scared  the  insides  out  of  him. 
The  morning  was  in  full  swing,  bedlam  as 
always.  Horns,  yells,  whistles,  the  shuffle  of) 
feet— they  could  be  inspiring  or  they  could 
be  a  lullaby  sometimes,  but  now  they  were 
only  overwhelming  and  raucous.  ' 

He  had  subleased  the  Gramercy  Park 
apartment  during  his  hitch.  The  subleasers' 
had  been  gone  a  few  days  now.  When  he 
paid  off  Dante  Abruzzo  and  got  way  up'i 
inside  the  apartment,  he  shut  the  door| 
behind  him.  The  place  smelled  faintly  of* 
garlic— he  should  have  known  better  than 
to  sublease  to  a  magazine  editor— and  he 
discovered  when  he  shut  the  door  that  he 
had  found  the  one  thing  to  weigh  the  scales' 
against  that  last  kiss.  His  miserable  city.  He 
forgave  its  misery— but  it  was  too  much  to 
ask  someone  else  to. 

He  v\  ent  to  the  window,  opened  the  Vene- 
tian blinds,  pulled  them  up  slowly  and  then] 
looked  out  at  the  park,  bare  and  dirty  and 
cold  in  the  January  morning.  ' 

"I  can't,"  he  said  slowly  to  nobody.  "I 
can't."  He  looked  at  his  city,  just  then  an 
abortive  and  ugly  slice  of  the  earth  on 
which  we  live.  "It  isn't  fair  to  her  or  to 
anybody." 

And,  of  course,  there  never  was  any' 
thought  of  Al  Hanneman's  going  to  Ragville 
to  live.  There  was  a  ridiculous  thought. 


i%  GOOD  photographer  is  an  artist— and 
Will  Russell  was  a  good  photographer.  Had ' 
been  since  he  was  a  boy  in  Miami  and  used 
lo  lake  a  Brownie  box  out  into  the  heaving' 
streets  to  snap  hurricanes  at  work.  Being  ari 
artist,  he  was  sensitive  to  almost  anything 
around  him,  especially  people.  When  AP 
Hanneman  kissed  the  United  Slates  Marines'  " 
good-by  and  came  back  to  Russell-Hanne-iP' 
man  to  steer  its  financially  complicated 
destinies  as  skillfully  as  before.  Will  was 
delighted.  He  knew  of  Al's  love  affair  with'  ^ 
the  gaudy  courtesan,  Manhattan.  Will 
worked  better  with  happy  people  around 
him;  some  of  their  happiness  rubbed  off  on 
him  and  made  him  a  better  artist. 

Will  was  slight,  boyish,  nearsighted  and 
calm.  When  he  confronted  Al,  ten  weeks 
after  the  return  of  the  native,  he  looked  in 
contrast  like  an  adolescent  asking  his  father 
about  the  facts  of  life. 

"I  don't  like  lo  say  anything,"  he  said 
only  mildly  sarcastically,  "but  offhand  I 
wouldn't  say  you  fit  that  descriptive  phrase 
you're  always  using.  What  is  it?—"  I'm  living 
now,  boy;  I'm  really  living.'" 

"Go  snap  a  masterpiece,"  Al  said  moodily,  'JS 
looking  out  the  window  at  57th  Street 
below,  in  the  bleak  and  early-spring  morning. 

"How  can  I  work  with  this— this  oppres- 
sive air  hanging  down  on  me  like  the  sword 
of  Damocles?"  Will  demanded. 

Al  turned  and  looked  al  him  with  a  sickly 
grin.  "Poor,  sensitive  boy,"  he  said.  He 
caught  the  telephone  book  Will  flung  at  him ; 
then  he  looked  up,  melancholy  once  more. 
"Suppose  you  were  a  girl  who— well,  see,  a 
girl  who  all  her  life  has  lived  in  a  small 
town,"  he  said.  "  You  know.  Small-town 
life  and  all  that.  You  grew  up  picking 
strawberries  in  the  woods  and  riding  horses  ^ 
and  swimming  in  the  river,  and,  see  "  1 

Will  Russell,  boy  psychoanalyst,  held  up 
one  artistic  hand.  Then  he  arranged  a  chair 
so  the  March  sun  wouldn't  be  in  his  eyes, 
look  out  his  pipe,  lighted  it,  blew  out  the 
smoke  and  loosened  his  collar. 

"Suppose  I  was  a  girl,"  he  said  disgust- 
edly. "You're  about  as  lucid  as  a  page  from 
James  Joyce."  He  gestured  imperiously. 
"Now— from  the  beginning.  Tell  me  chrono- 
logically, with  no  details  omitted." 

The  story  spilled  out  of  Al  Hanneman.  He 
could  talk  easily  with  Will,  and  even  if  he 
did  like  lo  keep  his  headaches  and  personal 
problems  to  himself,  this  one  had  to  come 
out.  He  told  it  from  beginning  to  end. 

It  was  funny— it  was  the  first  time  he  ever 
had  said  aloud,  or  even  to  himself,  that  he 


a 


ihi 


liei 


^1 


I>  I  I. 


II  <»  \l  I 


I  11  I  II 


loved  luT.  The  wliole  vaRue,  miserable  lliinx 
[lad  snowballed  around  in  his  head  and  he 
knew  he  was  lost  al  sea  without  her,  but  he 
never  had  said  it  before. 

"I  lovelier,"  he  told  Will,  halfway  tllr()u^^h 
the  story.  He  had  to  slop  and  conleniplale 
that  for  a  moment.  It  sounded  wonderful. 

When  he  not  through.  Will  sal  there  for  a 
while,  i)ullinji  on  his  dan^^ed  pi|)e  and  saying 
nothinn.  Finally  he  eased  himself  out  of  the 
hit,'  leather  chair,  walked  u|)  and  down  a 
few  times  on  the  inch-thick  run  that  pros- 
perity h;id  brounht  to  Russell-Hanneman, 
and  then  kx)ked  at  Henry  Alistair  llanne- 
tnan. 

"When  /  went  to  Chapel  Hill,"  he  said 
sadly,  "it  was  taken  for  granted  that  even 
the  caUowest  of  undergraduate  men  knew  a 
little  alxHit  women." 

"  Wiial  kind  of  remark  do  you  call  that?" 
M  asked  belligerently. 

"Just  what  it  sounds  like.  You're  a  real 
rockhead  -you  know  that,  don't  you?" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?" 

Will  glared  at  him.  "Do  you  know  what 
Hyron  said?"  he  demanded.  "  Man's  love 
's  of  man's  life  a  lliinn  apart;  'tis  woman's 
vhole  existence.'  That's  what  Hyron  said." 

"Don't  you  have  any  thoughts  of  your 
)wn?"  Al  asked  unhappily.  "You  sound  as 
f  you'd  swallowed  Bartlett's." 

Will  went  scout  pace  across  the  big  olFice 
o  one  of  the  windows.  He  flung  it  open  and 
ill  the  cacophony  of  the  city  came  up  to 
heir  ears.  Smoke  hung  over  the  rooftops 
md  the  great  town  stretched  before  them  in 
he  windy,  sunny  morning. 

"Do  you  think  that's  what  a  woman  in 
ove  sees?"  he  yelled  at  Al  Hanneman, 
;esturing  impatiently  at  the  city.  "Do  you 
hink  she  sees  that  miserable  smoke  and  all 
hat  miserable  dirt?  Do  you  think  she  hears 
hose  darn  taxicabs  honking  their  brains 

lUt?" 

"You're  being  a  romantic,"  his  lovelorn 
lartner  said  in  a  weak  voice.  "She  can't  live 
m  love.  Three  months  here  and  she'd  be 
eady  to  run  home  to  Aunt  Phil." 
"I'm  talking  about  a  woman  in  love  with 
man!"  Will  Russell  shouted.  "I'm  not 
alking  about  a  woman  in  love  with  love, 
'm  talking  about  a  woman  whose  whole 
/orld  is  some  guy  who  gives  her  money  on 
Tidays,  eats  her  pies  without  too  much 
irotest  and  occasionally  tells  her  she  has  a 
ice  hat  on." 

He  looked  out  at  the  city,  rowdy  and 
lotley  behind  him,  and  then  back  pityingly 


Inl  '^''y        't  were  a 

small  l)eer. 

■•I)o  you  really  think  that  makes  any 
difference  to  a  woman  in  love  with  a  nian>" 
I'e  askedHc  coul.ln'l  have  Ix-en  n.ore 
scornful.  He  walked  slowly  acroBH  the  (l.^.r 
opened  the  d.K.r  and  sK.kI  there  a  nuMncnl' 

1  don  I  see  how  you  net  dressed  l)y  y(n.rH.  lf 
in  the  morning,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head 
and  went  out,  shutting  the  door  Ix-huui 
him.  Obviously  he  had  washed  his  handn  of 
the  whole  thing. 

F<)r  a  long  time  Henry  Alistair  Hanneman 
sat  there  in  his  big  swivel  chair,  kx.king  over 
the  toes  of  his  shoes,  which  were  propiM-d  up 
on  the  edge  of  the  glass-topped  desk,  at  the 
city  through  the  open  window.  A  long  lime 
Then  he  swung  around  and  l(X)kefl  at  the 
telephone  as  if  he  just  had  invented  it.  He 
resembled  the  man  in  the  RuU'  (ioldlxrg 
cart(K)ns  after  the  hammer  had  just  hit  him 
on  the  head  after  twenty  related  operations 
Finally  he  |)icked  up  the  receiver. 

"C.loria,"  he  said,  "put  a  call  through  to 
Mrs.  I'hik)mena  Wilson  in  l^agvillc,  Texas 
With  the  speed  of  light." 

It  was  Aunt  I'hil  who  answered.  There 
was  no  astonishment  in  her  voice,  only  small 
irritation.  "You  certainly  t(x)k  long  enough 
while  you  were  about  it,"  she  said.  "Why, 
in  my  day,  if  a  man  didn't   " 

"Is  she  there,  Phil?" 

"She's  fixing  the  car,  out  in  the  driveway. 
All  grease.  Looks  awful.  Her,  that  is;  not  the 
car." 

"Go  on."  he  said,  "call  her.  Will  you  call 
her?" 

He  could  hear  her  sigh.  "I  got  to  teach 
you  some  manners,"  she  muttered.  "A  little 
respect  for  old  age.  Oh,  well,  plenty  of  time, 
plenty  of  time."  Then  she  put  down  the 
phone  and  he  sat  there  with  the  sweat 
running  down  the  palms  of  his  hands  until 
at  last  Nora  Wilson  came  to  the  phone. 

"I  think  it's  that  ignition  cable  again," 
she  said.  "Hello." 

"  I  had  to  call  you." 

"I  know." 

"What  do  you  mean,  you  know?" 

There  was  a  brief  silence. 

"I  had  to  call  you,  too."  she  said  in  a 
small  voice,  "only,  the  ridiculous  way  society 
operates  these  days,  I  couldn't." 

"Why  couldn't  you?"  he  asked.  "You 
never  were  much  to  let  society  stop  you." 

"Don't  be  ditTicult,"  she  said.  "It's  a  lot 
of  things— you  know,  pride,  and  not  wanting 
to  force  yourself  on  somebody,  and  not 


knowing  how  somebody  fi-el»  afxxjl  you 
and    -  " 

"You  kn<jw  now,  don't  you?" 

"Yen." 

"Whal  about  CJcorKc?" 

'■  We're  not  eMgaKe<l  any  (nore  Two  wccki 
now.  You  htrw  thai  would  luipix-n." 

"I'm  Horry.  Sury  for  him  " 

"Don  l  Ik-,  loo  much.  Really.  I  think  a 
KfXKl  part  of  (  '.l-otvs  'h  lovu  for  me  was  liabit 
That's  an  awful  thing  lo  say  bul  we  did 
grow  up  together  ...  and  we  liked  each 
other  much  tor)  much  for  |K-opU-  who  love 
each  other.  ( .eorge  realizes  it  t»x»" 

He  h;iI  back  in  the  leather  chair  ai.' 
relaxefl. 

"N(»lxK]y  ever  is  koirk  to  accuse  mc  <,! 
loving  you  like  a  sister,"  he  said. 

H<  could  hear  her  chuckle.  "I  know,"  she 
siiid.  There  was  a  pause.  "I'm  not  sure  who 
d<M  s  what  now," 

"Well,"  he  sjiid.  "I  could  (ly  down  I'- 
Ragville    and  there's  a  dreadful  Ihouglil 
or  you  could  come  here  and  sweep  me  oil  my 
feet." 

"What  do  you  want  lo  do?" 

"Maybe  it  would  be  better  if  you  (lew  up 
here."  he  said. 

"I'll  just  (ix  this  ignition  cable  and  then 
I'll  get  washed  and  dressed  and  (ly  up  there. 
Are  we  going  lo  Ik-  married?" 

"Al  City  Hall,  naturally." 

"Thai's  gcxKl,"  she  said.  "I'm  tof)  shy  for 
a  big  church  wedding." 

"You're  about  as  shy  as  a  hungry  lion.  " 
he  said.  Then  he  l(X)ked  out  the  window  and 
once  again  there  it  was  his  big.  wonderful, 
noisy,  dirty  city,  staring  him  in  the  face, 
"Nora?" 

"Yes." 

"  I  don't  know  how  and  if  you'll  be  able  to 
stand  it  here."  he  said,  the  words  coming  out 
badly,  one  after  the  other.  "  It's  my  town  and 
I  think  it's  fine,  but  it's  not  a  woman's  city. 

and  it's  big  and  harsh  and  "  He  rattled 

on. 

She  interrupted.  "Do  you  think  any  of 
that  makes  any  difference  to  a  woman  in 
love  with  a  man?"  she  said  softly. 

He  just  sat  there.  listening.  "And  you 
love  me?"  he  said  finally,  incredulously. 

"I'll  call  you  when  my  plane  gets  in,"  she 
said.  "Good-by." 

She  did  call  him  when  her  plane  got  in 
too.  And  do  you  think  his  big,  wonderful 
city  made  any  difference  to  a  woman  in  love 
with  a  man?  She  never  knew  it  was  there. 
She  still  doesn't  know  it.  Lx)ve  is  like  that. 


'^REPORT  ON  THE  AMERirAN  COMMITNIST" 

{Continued  from  Page  12) 


slves  given,  by  interest  and  conviction,  to  a 
sychoanalytic  approach  which  ^ay,  and  I 
fiink  does,  reveal  a  good  deal. 

But  perhaps  because  of  this  preoccupation 
[leir  probings  into  the  religious  and  ethical 
arly  influences  on  communists  seem  to  me 
ladequate— especially  as  some  of  the  wit- 
esses  remembered  only  happy  childhoods, 
'he  fact  that  a  family  are  or  are  not  church- 
oers  reveals  something,  but  not  enough, 
'arents  can  be  formally,  even  rigidly,  "re- 
gious,"  without  themselves  demonstrating 
le  Christian  soul  quality  of  mercy,  tender- 
ess,  love  and  forgiveness.  Parents  can  be  so 
mg  on  dogma  and  so  short  on  everyday 
thics  as  to  make  thoroughgoing  atheists  of 
leir  children.  They  can  give  their  children 
vtry  "advantage"  e.xcept  that  of  discipline, 
v^n  occasionally  stem  discipline  which  is 
md  every  child  instinctively  knows  it)  an 
idication  of  true  love  and  concern.  I  would 
ke  to  know  whether  the  early  home  training 
f  these  communists  was  such  that  they  ever 
eveloped  any  instinctive  feeling  that  it  was 
isreputable  to  lie,  cheat,  deceive  or  sail 
nder  false  colors  for  any  reason  whatever. 

But  the  average  or  typical  American  rank- 
nd-file  communist  does  not  stay  in  the  party 
me  than  two  or  three  years.  The  turnover  is 
emendous.  The  authors  of  this  study, 
lecking  against  known  memberships  for 
;rtain  years,  as  furnished  by  the  FBI,  have 
jncluded  that  700,000  persons  have  left  the 
arty  in  the  last  30  years— some  20  to  every 


one  who  is  a  member  today.  This  is  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  far  greater  psychological  and 
material  difficulties  attend  severance  from 
the  Communist  Party  than  from  any  other 
organization. 

There  seems  to  come  a  moment,  usually 
fairly  early  in  his  party  life— two  or  three 
years— when  the  American  communist  starts 
playing  with  the  idea  of  getting  out.  But 
getting  out  is  harder  than  getting  in.  And 
here  society  and  some  of  our  anticommunist 
laws  enter  into  collusion  with  the  party. 

The  reasons  the  member  wants  to  leave 
are  numerous:  intellectual  revolt;  disap- 
pointed idealism;  awakened  bad  conscience; 
disillusionment  with  irrational  or  cynical 
switches  of  line  and  replacements  of  halos; 
sheer  boredom;  and,  in  many  cases,  of  young 
members,  growth  and  emotional  maturity. 
(A  happy  marriage  and  a  couple  of  children 
seems  the  best  cure  for  the  girl  communist.) 

But  it  is  a  terrific  wrench.  Put  yourself,  for 
a  moment,  in  the  disillusioned  communist's 
place.  You  are  leaving  what  has  become  your 
home,  church  and  whole  circle  of  friends,  for 
in  the  party  the  discipline  for  the  rank  and 
file  forbids  close  friendships  with  noncom- 
munists.  If  loneliness  drove  you  into  the 
party,  you  now  face  a  far  greater  loneliness. 
All  your  friends  will  despise  you  as  a  rene- 
gade, and  you  will  have  no  others  to  whom 
to  turn.  The  party  will  do  its  best  to  ruin  you 
in  any  employment  you  may  seek,  by  de- 
nouncing you  as  a  communist  and  even  send- 


ing in  the  number  of  your  party  card.  (The 
party  does  not  certify  to  your  severance  I 
Communists  in  the  organization  where  you 
work  (maybe  on  the  faculty  of  a  university) 
will  do  everything  in  their  means  to  get 
you  fired. 

If  you  decide  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it, 
you  will  find  many  avenues  of  employment 
closed  to  you:  all  branches  of  Government 
service,  for  instance.  If  you  are  an  alien,  you 
risk  dejwrtation,  for  our  immigration  laws 
operate  on  the  principle  "once  a  communist, 
always  a  communist." 

Thus  the  Communist  Party  is  aided  both 
by  the  laws  and  the  attitude  of  society  to 
keep  you  within  the  party.  Of  all  the  insti- 
tutions in  this  country— and  the  authors 
give  it  credit— only  the  Catholic  Church, 
which  actively  works  to  convert  com- 
munists, also  works  to  help  get  them  jobs 
and  start  a  new  life.  The  names  of  many  of 
these  never  reach  the  public. 

The  authors  think  that  with  more  knowl- 
edge, understanding  and  charity  most  rank- 
and-file  American  communists  could  be 
weaned  away,  leaving  the  party  reduced  to 
its  ruthless,  hard  core,  deprived  of  its  Amer- 
ican suckers. 

They  have  other  suggestions,  some  very 
good.  But,  as  I  see  it,  the  great  contribution 
of  this  report  is  to  make  it  clear  that  in  order 
to  fight  communism  you  must  know  what  it 
is,  and  plan  your  fight  according  to  realities. 

THE  END 


Before 

winter  outings 


guard 

baby-soft  skin 
against  chapping 


with  wonderful 

JOHNSON'S 
BABY  LOTION 


I  rv  to  ^ive  your  holiday  plants  as  many  advantages  as  they  get  from  this  Journal  n  indou\  with  light,  ventilation  and  temperature  under  euntrol. 


When  it  is  unexposed  to  passers-bv,  a  plant  n  indotv  of 
this  kind  becomes  a  true  picture  u  indoiv  n  ith  a  purpose. 


H 


ow 


to  handle  your 


You  may  not  have  been  given  a  window  like  this  for 
Christmas,  but  miUions  of  you  will  have  been  given  poinsettias, 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  you  will  have  been  given  cyclamens,  and 
somewhat  fewer  numbers  of  you  will  have  been  given  Jerusalem  cher- 
ries and  kangaroo  vines.  The  African  violets  you  probablv  have 
already.  At  any  rate,  now  is  the  time  when  it  is  good  to  know 
how  to  care  for  these  most  popular  of  holiday  plants.  Kan- 
garoo vine  is  too  easy  to  talk  about.  African  violets  are 
everybody's  year-round  pet.  And  Jerusalem  cherries,  you  grow 
as  annuals.  So  to  keep  those  first  two  looking  well 
as  long  as  possible,  set  them  in  a  sunny  window  (east 
if  possible),  keep  the  soil  constantly  moist,  keep  the 
u  indow  temperature  as  close  as  you  can  to  .50°  at 
night,  65°  by  day,  and  keep  the  room 
well  ventilated  if  there  is  a  chance  of  even  very  faint 
gas  fumes.  If  you're  careful  and  lucky  you  can  look  for 
ward  to  another  full  month  or  more  of  beauty. 

Bu  nU'hartl  Prtitt 


I    \  II  I  I 


II  '»  \l   I      I  .,  I  II 


I 


KAi'K  iioi.iJS  had  a  strange  reelin}>;  that,  she  had 
livi'd  this  day  hefore.  It.  was  soin<4  to  a  pattern 
tlial  was  sharply  I'ainiHar.  sharply  reminiscent  of 
something  tliat  had  happened  once  before.  She 
jabbed  a  paring  knife  into  the  potato  she  was  peel- 
ing and  held  it  up  and  looked  at  it  for  a  moment. 
Somehow,  the  potato  had  something  to  do  with  it. 

She  heard  steps  coming  down  the  stairs  and 
across  t  he  center  hall  and  then  a  voice  behind  her. 
"Do  I  look  all  right,  Mother?" 

Kate  turned  and  looked  at  her  daughter  as  she 
came  into  the  kitchen-  tall  and  trim  in  a  neat 
gray  suit  and  checkered  blouse — and  then  it  all 
came  back  to  lier. 

Suddenly  Kate  had  the  feeling  that  this  was  not 
today  .  .  .  this  was  not  her  daughter  coming  into 
the  kitchen,  but  she  herself.  Yes,  for  an  instant  it 
seemed  as  if  this  were  that  day,  more  than  twenty- 
five  years  before,  when  Kate  had  walked  into  the 
kitchen  at  home  and  said,  "Do  I  look  all  right. 
Mother?"  —  because  that  was  the  day  Fred  Hollis 
was  coming  to  dinner  for  a  very  special  reason,  too. 


Kate  Hollis  forced  her  thoughts  to  return  from 
that  instant  of  reverie.  "You  look  lovely,  Ami. 
What  time  did  you  say  Jim  would  be  here?" 

"In  about  an  hour,  Mother.  Guess  I'd  better 
start  getting  things  ready  in  the  dining  room, 
don't  you  think?" 

There  was  one  important  difference,  Kate 
thought  after  Ann  had  left.  On  that  day,  her  own 
father  was  still  alive  and  had  spoken  with  Fred 
Hollis  as  any  prospective  father-in-law  might.  But 
today  she'd  have  to  handle  this  alone  .... 


Alone?  Well,  not  entirely.  She  recalled  how  help- 
less she  had  felt,  at  first,  when  her  husband  died 
eight  years  before.  But  then  she  found  how  care- 
fully Fred  had  worked  things  out  to  help  her  make 
decisions  such  as  this  as  the  years  went  by. 

The  insurance  program  that  he  and  Cliff  Walters 
had  worked  out  together  had  come  to  serve  as  a 
year-to-year  guide.  When  Ann  reached  college  age, 
the  question  had  not  been  whether  she  could  go, 
but  simply  u/zere— because  Fred  had  left  a  sep- 
arate New  York  Life  poUcy  to  take  care  of  the 
expense. 

And  now  this  new  decision  would  be  easy,  too. 
With  Ann  tlirough  college,  there  was  no  reason  for 
her  not  to  marry  Jim  and  start  a  home  of  her  own. 
He  was  a  fine,  sensible  boy  and  should  do  well  as 
time  went  on.  And  Kate  knew  that  she  would 
never  be  a  financial  burden  to  them,  because  she 
had  her  regular  checks  from  New  York  Life  to  take 
care  of  her.  This  young  couple  could  live  with  the 
same  feeling  of  independence  that  she  and  Fred 


had  had — and  she  knew  that  that  was  what  Fred 
would  have  wanted. 

Kate  Hollis  picked  up  another  potato  and  began 
to  peel  it  methodically.  Yes,  she  thought,  she  had 
traveled  full  circle.  And  somehow  it  .seemed  to 
Kate  that  a  good  part  of  the  circle  had  been  care- 
fully drawn  a  long,  long  time  ago. 

NEW  YORK  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPANY 

51  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  10.  N.  Y. 


THE  NEW  yoRK  i,,c 

,3 


Naturaliy,  names  used  in  this  story  are  fictitious. 


90 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


Want  to  fly  away 
from  winter 
weather? 


ABOUT  WINTER  VACATIONS 
THAT   ARE    SURE   TO   BE  FUN 

Ever  been  around  the  ivorld?  A  round- 
the-world  trip  is  sure  to  thrill  the  newest 
and  the  most  experienced  traveler.  The  best 
world  trip  ever  starts  from  Los  Angeles  on 
Feb.  23,  with  visits  to  TIawaii,  Japan,  the 
Philippines,  Indonesia,  Malaya,  Thailand, 
India,  Lebanon,  the  Holy  Land,  Egypt, 
Turkey,  Greece,  Italy,  France,  England  and 
back  to  New  York  on  May  19.  Think  of  it  — 
15  fascinating  countries — 3  whole  months 
of  fun-and  all  for  14,785  via  TWA. 

Dreaming  of  New  York?  There  are  lots 
of  new  plays,  revues,  floor  shows  to  see. 
And  thanks  to  TWA,  New  York  is  near 
enough  for  even  a  long,  fun-packed  week- 
end. For  help  in  planning  your  trip,  write  to 
Mary  Gordon  of  TWA  for  her  leaflet  "How 
to  see  New  York,"  or  for  information  on 
organized  tours. 

Ever  been  to  the  Southtvest?  If  not,  do 
go  this  winter.  It's  the  smart,  new  vacation 
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NAME  

ADDRESS  

CITY  

ST  A  TE  


"You're  Bruckner?"  she  asked.  "Well,  he 
has  a  cute  face  and  red-gold  hair." 

"Well,  go  on— does  he  cry  much?  How 
does  he  take  his  bottle?"  I  flung  the  ques- 
tions at  her.  As  she  hesitated  I  laughed,  "  I 
can't  expect  you  to  know  my  baby  from  all 
the  others  you  care  for.  How  many  are  there 
in  the  nursery?" 

"There  are  thirty  at  this  moment."  She 
seemed  eager  to  leave,  but  I  felt  talkative. 

"  It  must  be  wonderful  taking  care  of  all 
those  tiny  helpless  infants,"  I  remarked. 

The  nurse  turned  so  that  her  eyes  looked 
directly  at  me.  "It  isn't  as  much  fun  as  it 
would  appear  to  be.  There  is  a  lot  of  respon- 
sibility involved."  Her  eyes  studied  my  face 
searchingly.  "Good-by  all,  and  good  luck  to 
you,  Mrs.  Bruckner." 

I  thought  her  words  and  attitude  curious, 
but  did  not  attach  any  importance  to  them.  I 
shrugged  my  shoulders. 

My  roommates,  Jean  and  Dorothy,  were 
reading  and  I  was]  content  to  just  He  there. 
I  glanced  up  as  I  heard  footsteps  approach- 
ing our  door.  It  was  my  husband.  I  was  so 
happy  that  I  didn't  at  first  notice  how  tired 
and  pale  his  face  looked. 

"Hello,  darling,"  I  greeted  him  with  out- 
stretched arms. 

He  kissed  me  tenderly  and  then  smiled. 
My  husband  is  tall,  with  a  graceful  body  that 
is  called  athletic.  His  facial  features,  al- 
though pleasant,  are  not  handsome.  He  does 
possess  a  wondrous  smile.  When  he  is  tired  or 
troubled  his  smile  is  the  first  to  reflect  his 
emotions. 

Now,  as  he  smiled,  I  could  see  that  some- 
thing was  wrong.  His  eyes  were  shadowed 
and  his  lids  were  puffy  as  though  he  had 
been  awake  the  entire  night.  "You  really  do 
look  awful,"  I  told  him.  "Where  were  you 
all  last  night?" 

"You  know  what  a  poor  sleeper  I  am,"  he 
said.  Then  he  turned  from  me  quickly  and 
spoke  to  my  companions.  "How  hias  my 
wife  been,  and  is  she  eating  and  resting 
well?" 

I  was  surprised  that  he  should  question 
them,  and  replied  quickly,  "You  know  me— 
I  love  to  eat,  and  I  am  taking  advantage  of 
being  able  to  rest  in  bed  without  being  dis- 
turbed. How  did  you  get  into  the  hospital  at 
this  hour?" 

"  Y'ou  know  your  husband  can  get  into  any 
room  he  wants  to,"  he  smiled.  "But  I  do 
have  to  leave  now.  I'll  be  back  this  afternoon 
at  visiting  hours.  Remember,  I  want  you  to 
get  well  and  strong  quickly."  He  bent  to  kiss 
me  and  was  gone  before  I  had  time  to  say 
anything  more. 

After  he  left  I  was  annoyed.  He  hadn't 
even  mentioned  the  baby,  and  that  was  so 
unlike  him.  Of  course  he  must  have  seen  our 
son.  Why  hadn't  he  at  least  told  me  so?  I 
felt  out  of  sorts  with  myself  and  everyone 
else. 

By  eleven  o'clock,  my  doctor  still  hadn't 
returned.  When  the  phone  rang  it  was  my 
husband's  mother.  Her  conversation  con- 
sisted of  the  following:  "Leona,  how  are  you 
feeling?  Are  you  all  right?  Have  you  seen 
Hy?  Wait— Karen  wants  to  speak  to  you. 
Hold  the  phone— here  she  is." 

Karen's  voice  was  eager.  "How  do  you 
feel,  mommy?  When  are  you  coming  home?  " 
No,  she  didn't  know  she  had  a  baby  brother. 
Daddy  hadn't  told  her. 

"Let  me  talk  to  grandma,  honey.  I  will 
call  you  later,"  I  said.  But  while  I  waited  I 
heard  the  buzzing  that  meant  the  other  party 
had  hung  up  the  receiver.  For  a  moment  I 
was  tempted  to  call  back,  but  decided  against 
it. 

The  porter  came  to  crank  my  bed  up  for 
my  lunch.  The  food  was  well  prepared,  but 
suddenly  I  didn't  feel  hungry. 

Dorothy  and  Jean  left  the  room  as  soon  as 
lunch  was  over,  but  I  was  not  to  be  alone  for 
long.  A  nurse  entered,  smiling,  and  told  me 
she  was  making  out  the  birth  certificate  and 
needed  some  information.  I  was  glad  of  com- 
pany and  was  giggling  merrily  when  the 
phone  rang.  It  was  my  husband. 


TRIUMPH  OF  LOVE 

(Conlinued  from  Page  39) 

"The  nurse  is  here  for  information  for  the 
baby's  birth  certificate,"  I  announced.  "She 
wants  to  know  what  we  are  going  to  name 
the  child."  I  waited  for  his  understanding 
laugh.  Hy  had  always  told  me  that  he  liked 
the  name  Bill  and  if  we  ever  had  a  son  that  is 
what  he  wanted  him  called.  Now  I  waited  for 
my  husband  to  tell  me  once  again.  Instead 
there  was  silence.  "Hy,  are  you  still  on  the 
line?"  I  called. 

Then  came  his  surprising  answer:  "Call 
the  baby  anything  you  want." 

I  was  shocked  and  bewildered  and  wanted 
to  question  him,  but  I  was  ashamed  to  with 
the  stranger  standing  near.  He  seemed  anx- 
ious to  hang  up  and  said  he  would  see  me  in  a 
short  time.  The  nurse  asked  if  this  was  my 
first  child  and  I  automatically  answered, 
"No,  I  have  a  girl  three  years  of  age." 

"Is  she  normal  too?"  she  asked— at  least 
that  is  what  I  thought  she  said  then. 


In  Those  Days 

Oil  Kandull  Jarrfll 

In  those  days— they  were  long 
ago— 

The  snow  was  cold,  the  night  was 
black. 

I  licked  from  my  cracked  lips 
A  snowflake,  as  I  looked  back 

Through  branches,  the  last  uneasy 
snow : 

Your  shadow,  there  in  the  light, 

was  still. 
In  a  little  the  light  went  out. 
I  went  on,  stumbling— till  at  last 

the  hill 

Hid  the  house.  .  .  .  And,  yawning. 
In  bed  in  my  room,  alone, 
I  would  look  out:  over  the  quilted 
Rooftops,  the  clear  stars  shone. 

How  poor  and  miserable  we  were. 
How  seldom  together! 
And  yet  after  so  long  one  thinks: 
In  those  days  everything  was 
better. 


After  a  few  more  questions,  the  nurse  left. 
I  leaned  back  in  bed,  puzzled  by  my  hus- 
band's manner.  It  did  not  sound  like  him  at 
all,  as  he  was  so  assertive  and  firm  in  his  man- 
ner. I  was  determined  to  question  him  closely 
when  he  came  for  his  afternoon  visit. 

I  tried  turning  my  thoughts  to  another 
subject,  and  began  to  wonder  whether  I  had 
given  the  correct  replies  to  the  questions. 
Then  I  sat  up  with  a  start  as  I  heard  the 
nurse's  voice  asking  if  Karen  had  been  nor- 
mal too.  I  couldn't  remember  any  place  for 
that  question  on  the  birth  certificate  of  my 
daughter.  Perhaps  I  had  misunderstood  her. 
Just  what  had  she  said  ?  Suddenly  I  remem- 
bered, and  I  felt  every  muscle  in  my  body 
stiffen.  Her  actual  words  had  been,  "  Is  she 
abnormal  too?" 

Exactly  at  the  start  of  visiting  hours,  Hy 
walked  into  the  room,  accompanied  by  the 
husbands  of  my  roommates.  I  introduced 
them  quickly,  hoping  that  Hy  would  come 
over  to  talk  to  me  alone.  Instead,  everyone 
joined  in  conversation  while  I  lay  silently 
waiting  for  the  moment  we  could  be  alone. 
My  husband's  back  was  facing  me,  and  I 
could  not  study  his  face,  except  for  the  brief 
moment  as  he  walked  toward  me  into  the 
room.  I  could  not  detect  any  emotion  mir- 
rored there  to  give  me  cause  for  alarm.  It  was 
true  that  his  eyes  were  heavily  shadowed. 


and  that  he  looked  tired  and  strained,  but 
his  conversation  was  casual.  Gradually  I 
convinced  myself  that  nothing  was  wrong. 

Finally  he  turned  his  attention  completely 
to  me.  He  kissed  me  gently  on  the  cheek  and 
asked  how  I  felt. 

"Fine,"  1  answered  very  shortly.  I  wasn't 
in  the  mood  for  casual  conversation.  "Have 
you  seen  the  baby  yet?  "  I  guessed  that  I  had 
taken  him  off  guard,  and  he  was  unprepared 
with  a  reply. 

He  stammered,  "Why,  no,  they  wouldn't 
let  me  see  him." 

"Of  course  you  can't  hold  him,"  I  replied,  i 
"There  has  been  a  siege  of  colds  in  the  hos- 
pital, but  you  can  see  him  through  the  nurs- 
ery window.  Go  right  now  and  then  come  tell  • 
me  what  he  looks  like,"  I  commanded. 

My  husband's  reply  was  startling:  "Oh,  I  1 
will  have  the  rest  of  my  life  to  see  the  baby, 
and  would  rather  spend  this  hour  here  with  i 
you."  i 

I  sighed  and  told  him  that  he  should  do  as  ? 
he  liked.  In  a  half-joking  manner,  I  added,  | 
"What  kind  of  father  are  you  not  to  even  3 
want  to  see  your  own  son  ?  "  | 

A  horrified  expression  stole  over  his  face.  I  I 
felt  sorry  for  my  words  and  tried  to  change  I 
the  subject.  My  head  ached,  and  I  had  the  j 
feeling  that  this  entire  episode  in  my  life  was  I 
unreal.  For  one  almost-believing  moment  I  j 
almost  convinced  myself  that  I  was  still  in  I 
the  delivery  room,  and  all  this  was  just  a  very  J 
vivid  dream.  I  wondered  how  soon  I  would 
wake  up  and  come  back  to  reality.  I  was  ' 
tired,  and  for  some  unaccountable  reason 
suddenly  wanted  the  visiting  hours  to  ter- 
minate so  I  could  be  alone. 

My  husband  seemed  to  share  my  feelings 
because  he  got  up  immediately  the  visitors'  j 
bell  rang.  He  kissed  me  and  walked  out  of  | 
the  room.  My  head  was  throbbing  painfully,  ; 
and  I  was  very  near  tears.  I  could  not  under-  ; 
stand  my  own  emotions.  Here  I  had  just 
given  birth  to  a  desired  child  that  had  cer-  , 
tainly  been  conceived  in  love  and  tenderness,  i 
and  my  husband  and  I  were  both  acting  as  j 
though  we  had  never  really  wanted  him.  I 
turned  toward  the  wall  and  started  to  sob  ■, 
quietly. 

Suddenly  I  heard  two  voices  in  angry  con-  i, 
versation.  I  listened,  shocked  to  realize  it  ! 
was  my  husband  who  was  arguing  so  shrilly. 
The  lower,  more  subdued  voice  was  that  of  ! 
my  doctor.  What  could  my  doctor  and  hus- 
band be  arguing  about?  During  the  long  pe- 
riods of  both  pregnancies  I  had  never  heard  a  ' 
word  of  disagreement  between  them.  It  was  j 
not  like  my  husband  to  create  such  a  scene  in 
public.  Why?  What  could  be  the  cause  of  it? 

In  an  instant  the  obvious  truth  came  to 
me.  There  was  something  wrong  with  my 
baby.  My  husband's  attitude  the  past  eight  i 
hours  should  have  made  me  sense  the  truth. 
He  was  trying  to  keep  something  from  me.  | 
These  thoughts  raced  through  my  mind  and  I 
started  to  shiver  with  fear  and  fright.  I  did 
not  know  what  I  was  doing  and  I  was  close  to 
hysterics.  I  heard  a  loud,  uncontrollable 
voice  screaming,  "I  want  my  husband!  I  i 
want  my  husband ! "  i 

I  knew  it  was  myself  screaming,  but  I 
couldn't  stop.  Both  my  doctor  and  my  hus-  ' 
band  came  quickly.  Dr.  K.  took  my  hand  in  a 
soothing  manner,  but  I  was  beyond  comfort. 
My  husband  just  stood  there,  his  face  deadly  > 
white.  Then  my  doctor  spoke:  "Mrs.  Bruck- 
ner, there  is  nothing  seriously  wrong.  The 
baby  is  sick,  and  we  did  not  want  to  worry 
you." 

I  snatched  my  hand  away  from  him.  "  You 
are  lying  to  me.  My  baby  is  dead— tell  me  i 
the  truth." 

Dr.  K.  tried  again:  "Mrs.  Bruckner, 
please  do  not  get  so  overwrought.  You  will 
get  yourself  ill." 

I  shook  my  head.  "  I  want  to  see  my  baby,  j 
Now,  now.  I  want  to  see  my  baby !" 

My  husband  broke  the  silence.  "It  is  no 
use— it  is  no  use!  She  has  to  know.  Tell  her 
the  truth."  j 

Hy's  words  were  so  startling  that  I  knew  | 
that  my  first  fears  were  unfounded;  the  baby 


I    \  l>  I  I 


II   II   \l    I       I        I  I, 


I 


as  iiol  dead.  Sonu'lliinj.';  I'vcii  inoic  tcinly- 

was  wroiiu. 
My  doctor  liarl  tliei'xpi  tssioiiof  a  wouiiflcd 
iiiiial  as  he  lunicd  toward  me.  lit-  wot  liis 
)9  several  times  nervously  hefore  lie  was 
lie  to  speak.  I  could  see  that  this  experi- 
ce  was  as  teai  liil  to  him  as  it  was  to  us. 
His  voice  hroki'  with  emotion.  "My  dear, 
irn  so  sorry,  hut  the  ciiild  is  a  monstrosil y. 
lave  ni'ver  seen  a  child  like  it  l)elorc  in  all 
If  years  ol Olisli'trics." 

Since  1  sat  witiiout  a  show  of  cmoliun  lie 
turned  tliat  I  had  not  heaid  and  k  pealed, 
le  is  a  monstrosity,  lie  li.is  no  arms,  jusi 


!ill\  adores  Ins  ?,ister,  but  holds  his 
lun  in  tlieii'  rare  fights.  Karen,  .S.  is 
iroud  that  she  taught  him  to  brush  his 
Rclh  and  lo  helf)  mollier  dust  and  mop. 


ious  appendages.  I  once  delivered  a  baby 
h  its  st,omacli  on  the  outside,  but  a  sur- 
)n  was  called  immediately  and  the  child 
:d  and  is  iiealtiiy  and  strong."  He  turned 
eyes  Ixick  to  my  face  and  continued, 
lothiui^  can  be  done  for  your  son,  1  don't 
nv  what  to  say.  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 
riiere  was  silence,  broken  only  by  the  sob- 
of  my  husband.  1  had  never  heard  my 
iband  cry  before  and  I  fell  as  Ihoutjh  I 
re  peeping  in  at  a  private  and  piteous 
•ing  of  his  soul.  I  called,  his  name.  He 
red  at  mc. 

Vly  doctor  spoke.  "Are  you  all  right,  Mrs. 
ickner?  Don't  hold  back  your  tears  if  you 
1  like  crying."  But  my  tears  had  stopped, 
ed  up  inside  of  my  heart.  I  could  not  speak, 
jlt  as  though  I  were  suffocating.  I  felt  a 
szing  vacuum  in  my  head,  and  wanted  to 
eam  but  nothing  iiappened. 
*Vhy  had  this  happened  to  me?  What  were 
going  to  do?  Suddenly  I  was  pounding  my 
s  against  the  covers,  and  shrieking, 
/^hat  are  we  going  to  do  ?  What  are  we  go- 
:  to  do?"  The  tears  came  after  that,  re- 
sing  the  tension  that  was  knotted  inside 
ne.  I  cried  bitterly,  so  hopelessly, 
^y  doctor  called  the  nurse  into  the  room 
i  told  her  to  give  me  a  hypodermic  im- 
diately,  and  again  as  often  as  I  rec|uired 
I  lay  exhausted  from  the  storm  of  tears. 
.  K.  came  back  to  my  bedside.  He  tried  to 
ak,  and  knew  that  words  were  inadeciuate 
i  gently  squeezed  my  hand. 
(Vhen  he  had  left,  my  husband  and  I  clung 
each  other.  We  could  not  cry;  we  had  no 
rs  left.  Then  my  husband  spoke:  "Leona, 
I't  worry.  We  will  find  a  way.  Try  to  re- 
n  your  strength  as  quickly  as  possible.  I 
d  you,  my  dear."  We  held  each  other 
rdlessly,  feeling  like  two  criminals  hiding 
ir  shame  from  the  world, 
rhe  news  about  my  baby  spread  like  wild- 
and  everyone  on  the  maternity  floor 
;w  of  me.  Strangers  began  flitting  into  and 
;  of  my  room.  Oh,  everyone  was  kind,  and 
;n  the  nurses  relaxed  the  rigid  hospital 
ES  to  allow  my  husband  to  stay  with  me 
"ing  the  afternoon.  Hy  left  at  five  o'clock 
h  the  whisper  he  would  be  back  at  seven 
it  evening.  After  he  left,  I  just  lay  there 
idly,  not  even  daring  to  think, 
rhe  head  nurse  brought  my  supper  tray, 
promised  your  husband  that  I  would  see 


llial  you  ate  your  Hiip|XT,"  she  mid  inc  "  H.- 
IS  very  worried  and  wimln  you  t<.  m-i  nlroiiK 
as  soon  as  i3(«Hihle.  'I'ou  won't  have  mrent-lh 
unless  you  eat  something." 

1  olx-dienlly  ale  a  few  H|XK,nfulH  while  she 
stfH)d  watching.  The  f.Kxl  lasl.-d  like  h;iw- 
dust.  Alter  a  few  niouthluls  !  mop|M'd  ri,,- 
luirse  didn't  press  me  lo  lake  more  hIil- 
ivahzid  I  wasn't  capable  ol  eatinK  JuhI  then. 

I  he  room  got  darker  and  somehow  the 
dark  was  comforting.  I  wailed  only  for  vmil- 
mg  hours  and  my  husband  to  Hhare  llimdark 
loneliness  with  me. 

No  one  was  in  ihe  nK.m  when  he  came, 
.jean  and  Dorotiiy  were  sitting  in  Ihe  wailint- 
HMim  so  lhal  I  could  have  privacy.  My  hus- 
band grai)l)ed  me  tightly  m  liisariiiH.  saying. 
"  I  k)ve  you  very  much,  Leona.  We  somehow 
will  lind  a  way  to  conquer  tins  problem,"  ||c 
iniried  his  head  in  Ihe  covers  and  I  gently 
stroked  his  hair  and  said,  "1  love  you  loo, 
very  inucii,  my  dear," 

When  he  sal  down  in  the  chair  next  lo  iny 
i)ed  we  did  not  lalk  much.  It  was  comforting 
just  to  know  liiat  liie  other  was  there. 

.lean  and  Doroihy  finally  walked  into  the 
room  and  Hy,  knowing  they  must  be  lired. 
told  tiiem  lie  would  leave  them. 

When  the  nurse  came  in  to  change  me  for 
the  night  she  administered  a  hyiKKlermic 
needle.  After  the  lights  were  out  1  lay  there, 
dry-eyed,  waiting  for  the  forced  sleep.  It 
came  blessedly  and  I  slept  an  untroubled, 
dreamless  sleep. 

By  twoo'ck)ckinlhe  morning  I  was  awake, 
the  effects  of  the  sedative  worn  off.  I  lay 
thinking.  If  only  I  could  change  irlial  has  ha  >- 
pcned!  If  I  could  make  it  just  a  had  dream. 
That  was  impossible.  No  matter  how  I 
prayed,  tWs  situation  would  not  change.  It 
was  we  who  had  to  change  to  accept  the  sit- 
uation. 

I  admit  my  first  thoughts  were  selfish 
ones.  I  was  trying  to  find  the  easiest  way  out 
for  Hy  and  myself.  The  child  was  as  yet  un- 
known; just  pari  of  me  lhal  had  been,  and 
was  no  more.  As  long  as  he  was  unknown  our 
decision  would  be  easier  to  make.  What  kind 
of  decision  was  there  to  make? 

Suddenly  I  heard  a  voice  that  was  mine 
make  a  statement  I  had  almost  forgotten.  I 
saw  Sandra  and  her  tired,  pathetic  parents. 
Our  family  iiad  known  the  Millers  for  a  long 
time.  Sandra  was  about  twenty  years  of  age 
now  ,  with  a  mature  body  and  an  imbecile's 
face.  She  was  under  constant  medical  care 
and  her  father's  salary  was  mostly  spent  for 
drugs  to  keep  her  withering  body  alive. 
Sandra  had  not  been  born  like  that.  At  the 
a,ge  of  three  she  was  an  extremely  beautiful 
child.  Then  she  had  developed  an  unusually 
bad  case  of  scarlet  fever.  Doctors  had  not 
known  as  much  about  the  disease  as  they  do 
today  and  the  fever  had  entered  the  child's 
l)rain.  The  damage  had  been  too  great  to  re- 
pair. She  was  utterly  helpless  and  her  par- 
ents, especially  her  mother,  lived  a  life  of 
constant  slavery  to  the  child. 

My  mother  had  helped  by  watching  the 
child  so  the  mother  could  do  necessary  shop- 
ping. We  had  often  discussed  the  situation.  1 
could  remember  the  callous  statement  I  had 
once  made,  that  such  a  hopeless  idiot  should 
have  been  put  into  an  institution.  My  mother 
had  sadly  shaken  her  head  and  told  me 
never  to  tell  such  a  thing  to  her  friends,  as 
they  would  be  angry.  I  luid  vowed  with  the 
casualness  of  youth  that  if  I  ever  had  a  child 
that  was  not  normal  I  would  do  as  I  sug- 
gested. 

Now  I  whispered  to  myself,  Perhaps  I  am 
beino  punished  Jar  having  made  such  a  state- 
ment. I  burst  into  tears  and  cried  silently, 
keeping  the  covers  over  my  head  so  that  I 
would  not  disturb  my  companions. 

Morning  came  after  long  hours  of  weeping 
and  despair.  I  lay  without  moving  when  I 
heard  my  roommates  whispering  between 
themselves.  I  knew  they  must  have  been 
aware  of  my  tears  during  the  night.  I  did 
not  want  to  talk.  I  did  not  want  them  to  see 
my  swollen  red  eyes.  I  wanted  to  be  alone, 
awav  from  pity  and  consideration. 

I  could  hear  the  nurses'  voices  as  they 
prepared  for  the  day's  start.  It  was  then  I 
lifted  myself  on  one  elbow  and  addressed  my 
companions.  I  tried  to  make  my  voice  sound 


clK'crfiil  iiH  I  callwl.  '  lli  jlo.  mrU,  are  y«Ki 

awiikf?" 

I  lifard  th.-ir  %'i.ic.-  iillin:'  III.  I'm  ii,, 
had  Imm-ii 
kepi  Hikii 
asleep,  l  ilt  )  iIhI  no 
and  I  lilt  iiiiHirabl. 

U>  leave  fiiy  prew-iice  m  miun  M  llwy  were 

able. 

When  Ihe  nume  enicn-tl  hIh-  kepi  up  a 
cheerliil  (low  of  mnall  lalk,  and  wImh  my 
tray  lay  acronn  my  lap  I  made  a  prelenw  of 
ealing,  ll  wan  an  idorl  lo  punli  llujne  HiMion- 
fiils  <il  fiMxl  down  my  iliroal. 

The  phone  rang  and  ii  wan  my  liiiMhiind'ii 
inolher  She  m  an  rmoiional  woiiian  o(  atxiul 
Hixly-live  Her  voice  filled  willi  tear*  a>t  »lie 
recogni/ed  my  voice.  I  had  tried  ho  much 
during  the  pant  twelve  lioiirn  ihat  I  luid  iv> 
more  tears  led.  I  tried  lo  end  the  coiiver>i;i- 
lion  as  (|uitkly  and  kindly  as  ixmsible  I 
asked  for  my  husband  and  she  told  me  lhal 
he  would  Hi-c  me  this  morning. 

lie  dirl  not  come  in  nnlil  iioonlime.  Mis 
face  looked  iind  and  drawn.  He  searches] 
my  face  carefully,  wanting  to  knr)w  if  1  ha<l 
slept. 

I  lied  cheerfully,  telling  him  lhal  I  had 
slept  fairly  well.  I  cr)uld  see  lhal  he  had 
something  lo  discuss  with  me.  I  asked. 
"What  IS  it.  Hy?" 

I  le  Ux)ked  at  me  in  surprise  and  then  Uxjk 
my  hand  in  his.  "lAimd.  we  have  a  decision 
to  make.  Kver  since  the  birth  of  the  child  I 
have  tried  lo  Ix-  honest  and  fair,  but  I  do 
not  know  any  longer  what  is  right  and  what 
is  wrong.  (;ne  thing  1  am  sure  of:  we  cannot 
lake  the  baby  home  when  you  leave  this 
week.  We  have  lo  be  certain  lhal  there  is 
nothing  further  wrong  with  the  child.  The 
only  way  is  lo  have  him  examined  by  s|)ocial- 
isls.  This  is  a  maternity  hospital  and  they 
do  not  have  Ihe  equipment  necessary.  We 
will  have  to  send  him  lo  some  well-slafled 
hospital.  Sup|X)se  there  is  something  wrong 
with  him  organically;  or  even  supix)se  he  is 
not  normal  mentally?  How  would  you  live, 
having  lo  raise  a  child  like  lhal.  watching 
the  curiosity  of  strangers?  I  do  not  believe 
lhal  either  of  us  is  mentally  or  emotionally 
equipped  lo  handle  such  a  prf.'blem." 

When  he  slopped  1  put  my  hands  over  my 
face.  1  felt  sick  and  indecisive.  With  effort  I 
comiX)sed  myself  and  said.  "  I  know  thai  you 


W  lu  ll  he  ua-  a  lillle  hov.  Hills  used  this 
swing:  but  now  that  he  is  two  and  a  half, 
he  swings  alone,  goes  up  and  down  stairs 
without  help,  and  turns  fine  somersaults. 


are  doing  what  is  best.  Let  us  do  as  you 
want." 

"But,  Leona,  it  cannot  be  just  my  deci- 
sion. You  have  to  decide  too." 

Then  I  sobbed  and  he  grabbed  me  tightly 
and  rocked  me  back  and  forth  in  his  arms. 
I  finally  lifted  my  face  to  ask.  "What  are 
we  going  to  tell  people?" 

Hy  looked  at  me.  "  I  have  thought  of  that 
man)-  times,  but  I  do  not  know.  Leona.  what 
do  you  think  we  ought  to  say?" 

My  reply  was  spontaneous:  '  I  know  this 
is  wrong,  but  I  have  prayed  that  the  child 
die,  I  am  sure  (iod  dws  not  mean  him  lo 


live  "  '  I nif  much  if  we 

«i> 

^  '  ^y  t-yc«  Mead- 

^  wr  can  Kivc 

■I,  "I  will 

'  irn  Uj 
'  K 

\K. 

II 

IH'  ttillU'il  to  . 
of  hill  coiit ,  "  i  1 
I  a«ked> 

lie  Hiiiiok  ht«  licad,  "N<i.  I  have  not  had 

the  I 

'  II  do  no!    If  will  he  ea»:.-r  to 

Mend  liiiii  oui  ' ' 
way  you  will  i. 
face" 

I  held  tiithtly  to  hi«  oial  until  Iw  an- 
Hwerwl.  ■■  I  iKotniwe  you  I  wrni'l  " 

Tl  I  ■■  '  I  ! 

not  ' 
hours  I 
never  ca; 

Jean  rec  iv^  d    /!■  n  .  o: 

lliem  back  into  the  nii 

must  be  kmely.  I  hey  m 

ajn  versa  I  Km,  and  I  w.i 

Billy.  For  an  hour  I  almi/^;  lo.,.,;  .ii^„i;  i,,^ 

deformed  child. 

1  received  a  phone  call  from  my  '     '/  •  ' 
at  5  P  .M.  Il  was  brief  and  curt.  A 
was.  "Well.  U-ona.  il  is  done  ll<  .  .i; 
other  tuwpilal.  1  will  stt  you  Ibis  eveninK." 

When  he  walkwl  into  my  rfjom  thai  eve- 
ning I  could  see  the  chanjje  in  his  appear- 
ance. He  carried  his  shoulders  high,  he  was 
freshly  shaven,  and  his  eyes  had  a  more 
determined  kjok.  Noy  llial  a  decision  liad 
been  made  and  carried  Ihrough.  he  fell  re- 
lieved. His  only  wish  now  was  lo  gel  me 
ajmplelely  well,  so  thai  I  could  leave  the 
hospital. 

Hy  told  me  about  our  daughter.  I  decided 
to  call  her  and  lei  Hy  gel  the  number.  I 
spoke  lo  Karen,  and  noticed  ihe  wistful  lone 
of  her  voice  as  she  told  me  she  wanted  lo 
go  home. 

"But,  darling,  mommy  has  lo  slay  here, 
and  grandma  is  taking  good  care  of  you,"  I 
said.  I  promised  her  I  would  be  home  as  soon 
as  the  doctor  would  let  me. 

When  I  hung  up  the  receiver.  I  turned  lo 
Hy.  "  I  know  your  mother  is  good  lo  Karen, 
but  she  is  so  nervous  now  that  she  does  not 
have  patience  for  her.  I  think  I  ought  to  call 
my  mother,  and  ask  her  to  come  out  here 
as  soon  as  she  is  able."  Hy  thought  it  was  a 
good  idea,  and  we  got  permission  to  make  a 
long-distance  call. 

I  heard  the  op)erator  telling  a  party  on  the 
other  end  of  the  wire  that  il  was  New  York 
calling,  and  then  I  heard  my  dad's  voice.  I 
took  a  deep  breath  and  without  any  prologue 
told  him.  "  Dad,  the  baby  is  dead  and  I  need 
mom.  Can  she  come?" 

Immediately  my  mother  was  on  the  phone . 
and  there  was  great  anxiety  in  her  voice  as 
she  asked.  "Lee.  how  are  you?" 

"I  am  fine,  mom,  but  we  need  you  here." 
I  said. 

"Of  course;  I  will  come  at  once,"  was  my 
mother's  reply.  "Arc  you  sure  you  are  ail 
ri.ght?  What  happened?" 

"I  will  tell  you  about  it  when  you  come, 
mom.  I  will  let  you  lalk  to  Hy."  I  handed 
the  phone  to  my  husband. 

My  mother  arrived  the  next  morning. 
When  my  husband  and  mother  both  walked 
into  my  room.  I  burst  into  tears.  I  reached 
out  for  her.  and  she  hugged  me  closely,  al- 
most if  I  were  her  little  girl  again.  She  was 
content  just  to  sit  and  watch  me.  We  sat 
quietly  talking,  and  then  she  asked.  "Lee. 
what  happened?" 

I  told  her  the  truth  as  simply  as  I  could. 
She  asked  no  questions  when  I  told  her  what 
we  had  done  with  the  child,  but  her  face 
turned  white  with  shock. 

My  doctor  came  to  see  me  that  afternoon. 
He  told  me  that  I  could  walk  next  day,  but 
this  day  I  was  to  be  content  just  dangling 
my  feet  from  the  bed.  I  had  the  iinpression 
that,  although  the  doctor  had  liked  me  as  a 
patient,  he  now  hated  to  see  me  as  it  re- 


92 


LAD    ]    K    S  '       II    ()    M  E 


.1    O    U    R    N    A  I. 


January,  1953 


minded  him  of  the  one  blot  on  his  medical 
career. 

When  Hy  visited  me  that  evening  he  had 
a  srnile  on  his  face.  Life  was  returning  to 
normal.  He  was  in  his  own  home  and  his 
daughter  w'Ss  happy  and  content.  Now  all 
he  wanted  was  for  me  to  return. 

The  next  day  I  walked  the  long  corridor 
to  the  lavatory.  I  was  still  weak  and  had  to 
stop  often  to  rest.  All  the  rooms  lining  the 
corridor  had  friendly  occupants,  but  I  re- 
fused all  the  invitations  to  sit  down  and 
talk.  As  soon  as  anyone  would  ask  if  I  had 
a  boy  or  a  girl  I  would  say  it  was  a  boy  and 
before  they  had  an  opportunity  to  ask 
further  questions  I  would  talk  about  Karen. 

My  doctor  came  to  visit  me  this  day  too. 
He  gave  me  permission  to  leave  the  next 
afternoon  after  lunch.  I  could  see  that  he 
did  not  approve  of  my  going  home  so  soon, 
but  he  was  powerless  to  change  my  deter- 
mined wish. 

When  Hy  came  this  evening  I  greeted  him 
with  a  happy  smile.  I  told  him  about  the 
doctor's  decision  and  my  husband  was  de- 
lighted. 

Karen  could  not  contain  her  happiness  at 
seeing  me.  She  kept  hugging  me  and  asking 
if  I  would  stay  home  now  for  always.  My 
husband  insisted  that  1  get  into  bed,  and 
rest;  but  I  wanted  to  get  back  into  my  old 
routine.  I  knew  that  if  I  kept  occupied  I 
would  not  have  much  time  for  thought.  My 
mother  was  wonderful,  and  watched  me 
anxiously.  It  was  good  to  be  able  to  let 
someone  else  assume  all  responsibilities,  all 
schedules  and  all  work.  I  felt  like  a  child 
again,  comfortecL  by  my  mother's  under- 
standing arms.  I  sighed  as  I  realized  that 
soon,  too  soon,  my  mother  would  have  to 
leave. 

I  had  no  distracting  phone  calls,  no  visi- 
tors, and  I  relaxed  completely.  I  hoped  that 
time  could  stand  still,  and  1  would  neither 
have  to  live  over  the  past  nor  walk  into  the 
frightening  and  unknown  future. 

When  my  daughter  had  been  put  to  bed, 
my  husband  and  mother  sat  down  in  my 
bedroom.  Hy  turned  to  me  seriously,  and 
told  me  he  thought  I  should  hear  all  the 
events  since  I  had  gone  into  the  hospital. 

Here  is  his  story  as  he  told  it  to  me  in  his 
own  words  as  I  remember  them ; 

1  shall  never  be  able  to  erase  from  my 
memory  the  details  of  that  night  you  went 
to  the  hospital.  It  was  after  six-thirty  when  I 
sat  down  in  the  lobby.  I  was  restless  and  did 
not  have  patience  to  read  the  paper.  After  a 
few  minutes  I  approached  the  switchboard 
operator  and  asked  if  she  had  heard  any- 
thing. She  told  me  she  would  call  the  delivery 
room.  I  heard  her  repeat  the  words  she  had 
been  told,  "Bruckner,  just  delivered  a  boy." 
She  smiled  at  me.  "Your  wife  is  still  in  the 
delivery  room,  but  a  boy  was  just  born." 

I  was  so  happy,  so  glad  that  it  was  over. 
I  knew  I  would  have  to  wait  another  hour  or 
so  until  the  baby  was  prepared  for  the  nurs- 
ery. Dr.  K.  would  come  down  to  see  me. 

I  called  my  mother,  and  told  her  the  good 
news.  Karen  was  asleep,  and  so  I  was  not 
able  to  talk  to  her.  After  phoning  my  mother 
I  called  my  three  sisters  and  told  them  just 
what  I  knew.  I  promised  to  call  again  after 
I  had  seen  and  talked  to  you.  I  returned  to 
the  waiting  room  to  finish  my  paper,  and 
just  did  not  have  the  patience  to  read  it.  I 
decided  to  go  out  to  buy  a  box  of  cigars, 
and  told  the  girl  at  the  desk  to  tell  the  doctor 
to  wait  if  he  should  come  down  before  I 
returned. 

I  was  still  feeling  happy,  proud  and 
elated.  I  would  glance  at  the  large  clock, 
wondering  what  took  Dr.  K.  so  long.  It  was 
almost  eieht  o'clock  now,  and  I  was  gettiag 
impatient.  About  this  same  time  I  noticed 
groups  of  doctors  and  nurses  coming  down. 
I  reasoned  that  it  must  be  time  for  the 
changing  of  shifts.  Every  time  the  elevator 
stopped  I  would  stand  up,  half  expecting  to 
see  our  doctor.  I  could  not  understand  the 
reason  for  this  delay.  I  approached  the  girl 
at  the  switchboard  again,  and  asked  her  to 
please  call  the  delivery  room  again.  She 
called  and  told  me  rather  apologetically  that 


the  doctor  was  too  busy  to  speak  with  me, 
and  that  I  should  just  wait. 

Now  it  was  nine  o'clock,  and  I  was  really 
worried.  I  again  spoke  to  the  same  operator; 
she  shook  her  head  as  she  told  me  that  she 
spoke  with  the  doctor  himself  and  he  would 
not  tell  her  anything  further  than  that  I 
should  just  sit  down  and  wait  for  him.  I 
began  to  have  an  acute  sense  of  fear  that 
something  was  wrong.  I  was  convinced  that 
you  were  ill;  perhaps  you  had  suddenly 
developed  complications.  It  never  occurred 
to  me  at  this  time  that  there  could  possibly 
be  anything  wrong  with  the  child. 

I  walked  back  and  forth,  back  and  forth.  I 
finally  walked  up  to  the  girl  and  told  her  that 
if  my  doctor  did  not  come  down  I  would  go 
up  to  see  him  myself.  Just  as  I  was  about  to 
force  myself  into  the  elevator,  the  door 
opened,  and  Dr.  K.  got  out.  As  long  as  I  live 
I  shall  never  forget  his  appearance  in  that 
hour. 

Dr.  K.  is  a  healthy,  reddish-faced  in- 
dividual with  intelligent  blue  eyes  that 
always  meet  yours  as  he  speaks.  He  was  a 
changed  man  that  time  I  saw  him.  His  face 
was  a  sickly  color,  and  he  looked  ill.  His 
voice  was  low  as  he  spoke.  "Mr.  Bruck- 
ner "~he  placed  his  hands  on  my  shoulders 
as  though  to  give  me  strength  and  started 
again— "Mr.  Bruckner,  I  wish  the  baby  were 
dead."  I  stared  at  him  and  he  continued,  "I 
wish  he  were  dead.  He  has  no  arms,  just 
curious  appendages.  I  don't  know  what  to 

say  to  you  "  His  voice  faded  and  I  still 

had  not  said  a  word  and  so  he  said  again, 
"  Did  you  hear  what  I  said?  He  has  no  arms. 
I  do  not  know  what  else  is  wrong  with  him." 
I  stared  wordlessly,  and  he  continued,  "He 
is  a  monstrosity,  a  monstrosity." 

I  felt  my  heart  starting  to  pound.  I  began 
to  feel  sick  and  for  one  moment  had  the  feel- 
ing I  would  retch.  Mechanically  I  hurried 
toward  the  men's  room.  I  closed  the  door  and 
leaned  against  it.  Then  I  was  sobbing  uncon- 
trollably. I  do  not  remember  how  long  I 
stayed  there. 

Later  I  went  back  into  the  waiting  room 
where  Dr.  K.  was  sitting.  My  first  words 
were,  "How  is  my  wife?" 

He  assured  me  that  you  were  fine  and  un- 
aware of  what  had  transpired.  "As  soon  as 
we  realized  the  child  was  not  normal  we  put 
your  wife  completely  to  sleep,"  he  told  me. 

"What  are  you  going  to  tell  her?"  I 
moaned. 


Eager  and  full  of  curiosity,  Billy  is  joy- 
ously discovering  how  big  the  world  is, 
getting  into  occasional  boyish  mischief. 
"He  never  walks  when  he  can  run.  ' 


He  answered,  "I  have  called  one  of  the 
leading  orthopedic  surgeons  in  the  city  to  see 
the  baby  tomorrow  morning.  He  will  be  able 
to  advise  us." 

I  did  not  sleep  at  all  that  night.  All  kinds 
of  thoughts  kept  running  through  my  mind. 
How  could  such  a  thing  have  happened  to 
us?  How  would  I  ever  be  able  to  tell  you  the 
truth?  Could  such  a  child  be  raised  in  a 
normal  manner?  What  effect  would  it  have 
on  our  daughter  Karen  and  the  shaping  of 
her  life?  What  would  raising  such  a  child  do 
to  you,  my  wife? 


Before  I  could  make  any  plans  I  had  to 
convince  myself  what  was  right  and  wrong, 
and  then  try  to  convince  you.  I  had  to  per- 
suade you  to  consider  the  thought  of  putting 
him  away  from  our  lives.  As  I  asked  myself 
these  questions  I  felt  cruel  and  completely 
unlike  a  parent.  I  did  not  want  to  be  selfish, 
but  I  was  trying  desperately  to  salvage  my 
suddenly  hopeless  life. 

At  four  in  the  morning  I  arose  and  put  on 
my  shoes.  My  mother  and  dad  heard  me  be- 
fore I  could  get  away  and  they  stopped  me. 
I  told  them  I  could  not  sleep  and  that  I  was 
going  to  pray  for  guidance. 

I  wandered  aimlessly  when,  quite  by 
chance,  I  stumbled  into  a  place  of  worship. 
Nobody  was  in  the  building  but  an  old  cus- 
todian. He  asked  if  he  could  help  me  and  I 
shook  my  head.  I  leaned  against  one  of  the 
seats,  praying  aloud.  I  don't  know  how  long 
I  stood  there,  but  finally  I  decided  to  leave. 

I  again  walked  without  purpose  and  then 
decided  to  drive  my  car.  Without  knowing 
I  was  doing  it,  I  drove  near  our  home.  I  felt 
dirty  and  tired  and  so  at  that  early  hour  I 
crept  into  our  apartment. 

After  a  shower  and  shave  I  decided  to  visit 
the  chaplain  of  the  veterans'  hospital.  I 
needed  to  talk  to  someone  and  he  was  the 
only  person  I  knew  who  could  give  me  the 
aid  and  comfort  I  needed. 

I  got  into  the  hospital  and  waited  in  an 
outer  office  until  the  chaplain  came.  I  briefly 
told  him  what  had  happened  and  asked  what 
he  thought  we  should  do.  He  told  me  he  hon- 
estly did  not  know.  I  asked  if  we  should  place 
such  a  child  in  an  institution  or  try  raising 
him  ourselves.  Again  he  shook  his  head  and 
admitted  he  did  not  know  of  any  institutions 
for  such  a  case.  He  did  tell  me  he  would  in- 
quire about  a  place  for  the  child.  He  asked 
me  to  visit  him  again  this  same  afternoon. 

I  found  a  phone  booth  and  called  Dr.  K. 
He  told  me  that  I  should  meet  him  at  the 
hospital  at  nine  that  morning.  The  specialist 
would  be  waiting  for  us. 

The  specialist  was  crisp,  competent  and 
thoroughly  professional  in  his  manner.  I  de- 
clined the  invitation  to  go  into  the  nursery 
with  them.  I  paced  back  and  forth  restlessly 
while  both  doctors  were  in  the  nursery.  In 
less  than  thirty  minutes  they  came  out. 

Dr.  S.  did  most  of  the  explaining.  I  asked 
what  had  caused  the  condition  and  he  shook 
his  head.  Doctors  thought  it  was  the  im- 
proper development  of  the  cells  during  preg- 
nancy, but  they  were  not  sure.  The  doctor 
talked  for  a  long  time,  explaining  that  there 
were  lots  worse  deformities  than  our  child 
had.  He  did  say  he  thought  it  wise  for  the 
child  to  undergo  extensive  examinations.  As 
an  afterthought,  he  said  that  the  boy  was  a 
handsome  youngster  and  seemed  healthy 
except  for  his  lack  of  arms. 

"Mr.  Bruckner,"  he  asked,  his  eyes  fas- 
tened to  my  face,  "what  does  your  wife  sug- 
gest be  done?" 

I  replied,  "My  wife  has  not  been  informed 
of  the  child's  condition.  I  do  not  know  how  I 
will  ever  be  able  to  tell  her.  And  of  course  I 
cannot  make  any  decision  without  her  con- 
sent." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  and  I  could 
see  this  stranger  was  trying  to  think  of  some 
way  of  helping  us.  Finally  he  said,  "I  will 
make  a  few  phone  calls.  Perhaps  I  may  be 
able  to  contact  someone  who  knows  more 
about  a  situation  like  this." 

He  turned  and  made  a  phone  call,  the  first 
of  many.  After  each  he  would  shrug  his 
shoulders  and  try  again.  I  could  hear  him 
speaking  to  a  woman,  but  I  could  not  hear  her 
conversation.  Dr.  S.  patiently  explained  the 
situation  and  then  turned  to  me  with  a  smile. 

"That  did  it.  This  woman  is  the  head 
social  worker  for  the  largest  crippled-chil- 
dren's hospital  in  the  city.  I  told  her  you 
would  be  at  her  office  within  an  hour.  I  am 
going  to  that  hospital  right  now  and  I  would 
be  glad  to  drive  you  there." 

When  he  left  me  at  the  door  of  the  hospital 
he  wished  me  luck  and  told  me  to  keep  in 
touch  with  him. 

Miss  S.  received  me  in  her  office  immedi- 
ately. She  was  a  coldly  efficient  woman  of 
about  fifty-five.  I  told  her  what  had  hap- 
pened and  of  my  fears.  I  completely  lost  con- 
trol of  myself  and  began  to  cry  hysterically. 


After  a  time  I  gained  control  of  my  emotions 
and  finished  my  narrative. 

She  told  me  stories  of  other  cases  she  had 
worked  with.  She  paused  to  add,  "Of  course  I 
you  are  taking  the  only  possible  course  open  [ 
to  you.  You  do  not  have  to  tell  your  wife  | 
about  all  this.  In  a  few  days  you  can  tell  her  ! 
the  baby  died  for  some  unknown  reason.  Un- 
fortunately, I  do  not  know  of  any  public  in-  j 
stitution  for  such  cases,  but  we  will  find 
something."  j 

She  thought  the  best  course  was  to  contact 
the  Department  of  Welfare.  Through  them 
the  child  could  be  placed  in  a  city  hospital 


A  hobbyhorse  \\a>  Ihil-  for  a  while,  but 
Billy  now  rides  Karen's  bicycle.  He  long 
since  gave  up  his  baby  spoon,  eats  proud- 
ly with  a  regular  fork,  just  like  daddy. 


for  observation  and  examination.  It  would  be ) 
necessary  to  get  a  note  from  the  doctor  who 
delivered  the  child.  She  handed  me  a  slip  on 
which  she  had  written  a  name  and  telephone 
number  and  told  me  to  call  this  woman.  I 
was  limp  with  emotion  when  I  left  her  office. 

Before  ten  o'clock  next  morning  I  called 
the  woman  Miss  S.  had  suggested.  She 
already  knew  all  the  facts.  She  had  managed 

to  contact  M  City  hospital  and  they 

had  agreed  to  admit  the  baby  that  very 
afternoon.  Now  I  had  to  call  Dr.  K.  and  per- 
suade him  to  come  to  the  hospital  to  drive  us 
to  the  M  hospital.  He  agreed. 

Now  came  the  hardest  part— seeing  you 
(Leonal  and  having  to  get  your  consent  tc 
what  I  planned  doing.  I  knew  it  was  not  nec- 
essary at  that  time  to  tell  you  all  I  had  done. 
I  saved  it  for  this  time  when  the  shock  would 
have  somewhat  lessened  and  you  would  bej 
home.  I 

As  soon  as  Sid  (my  brother-m-law)  andi 
Dr.  K.  arrived  at  the  hospital,  Dr.  K.  went 
to  the  nursery  and  returned  with  the  baby, , 
The  child  was  covered  with  a  blanket ;  ever 
its  face  was  invisible.  Although  I  did  not ' 
want  this  child,  I  was  concerned  about  its  j 
being  cold.  I  removed  my  coat  and  placed  it  i 
over  the  baby.  No  one  spoke  until  we  i 
reached  Dr.  K.'s  car.  Then  he  said  to  Sid, 
"Here,  hold  the  child.  You  can  sit  in  the 
back."  I  sat  up  front  with  the  doctor  and  not 
a  further  word  was  said.  |i 

I  think  the  baby  must  have  been  asleep 
during  the  ride.  At  least  there  was  not  a? 
sound  out  of  him.  I  think  I  would  have  lost 
all  my  nerve  if  he  had  cried. 

We  went  directly  into  the  emergency- • 
room  entrance.  We  had  a  long  wait.  After 
questioning,  the  note  was  taken  from  Dr.  K.ll 
Then  this  impatient  man  told  me  he  didn't  ! 
think  he  would  be  required  any  more  and| 
brusquely  said  good-by.  Sid  insisted  on  wait-" 
ing  for  me.  The  baby  had  been  taken  fronv  . 
his  arms.  We  were  told  to  wait  and  we  did,  | 
pacing  restlessly  back  and  forth.  ;  jo 

About  an  hour  later  a  young,  serious-faced" 
man  came  up  to  me.  "Are  you  Mr.  Bruck'  ij 
ner? "  he  asked.  He  told  me  to  come  into  his  i  •'i 
office.  As  I  sat  across  the  desk  he  told  me  that'  v 
he  was  Dr.  W.,  m  charge  of  pediatrics  at  th(|  n 
hospital.  He  had  given  the  child  a  cursor j 
examination.  As  far  as  he  could  see,  then  . 
was  nothing  wrong  other  than  his  lack  o:  i 
(Continued  on  Page  94) 


I    \   I)    I  i; 


'       "    "    \l     I.       I    ()    I  K 


93 


All  slie  had  was  a  pair  of  diamond  earrings  . . .  but 
the  young  widow.  Lane  Bryant,  left  with  an  infant  son, 
had  a  sense  of  fashion  that  no  one  could  have  predicted 
...and  an  energy  that  was  boundless. 

She  pawned  her  earrings  (a  gift  from  her  late  hus- 
band)...  bought  a  sewing  machine,  a  few  yards  of  dress 
material . . .  and  soon  her  neighbors  saw  the  sign  "Tea 
Gowns"  in  the  window  of  her  stoop-fronted  flat  in  upper 
New  York  City. 

Her  tiny  business  grew... the  precious  earrings  being 
pawned  again  and  again  to  supply  capital.  One  day  the 
idea  of  the  maternity  dress  occurred  to  her... no  one 
had  thought  of  it  before ...  until  that  day  shy  mothers- 
to-be  had  no  proper  clothes  for  going  out  in  public. 

It  soon  dawned  on  her  that  other  women  had  probleins 
too... that  real  women  rarely  conformed  to  the  dictates 
of  the  current  fashion  plates... so  she  began  designing 
clothes  for  larger  women... and  created  later  a  com- 
plete size  range  for  the  half-size  figure.  In  time  the  busi- 
ness which  she  founded  developed  clothes  for  Chubby 
Girls  and  Chubby  Teen-agers ...  to  be  followed  by  a 
complete  service  for  Tall  Misses  — all  these  step-children 
of  the  fashion  world  until  Lane  Bryant  made  their 
unique  problems  her  own. 

Thus  '"One  Woman's  Idea"  has  gone  a  long  way  to 
make  American  women  of  all  sizes  the  best  dressed  in 
the  world.  Since  the  creation  of  the  first  maternity  dress 
more  than  fifty  years  have  passed . . .  now,  Lane  Bryant 
stores  stretch  from  coast  to  coast . . .  and  a  mail  order 
division  serves  other  countless  thousands. 


m 

i  III  H 

ruan 


New  ^  ork  •  Manhasset  •  Brooklyn  •  Chicafio  •  Cleveland 
Philadelphia  •  Baltimore  •  Pittshurph  •  Detroit  •  St.  Louis 
Minneapolis  •  Miami  •  Miami  Beach  •  Beverly  Hills 
...and  Mail  Order  Division  in  Indianapolis 


This  is  an  AMERICAN  success  story!  Where  else  could  courage,  energy,  talent  and  the  insatiable 
rge  to  serve,  be  nurtured  and  rewarded  so  handsomely?  Where  else,  but  in  this  great  land  of  ours,  could 
young  woman  have  founded  a  service  to  womankind ...  and  a  great  business. .  .out  of  a  "widow's  mite?" 
[ere,  "One  Woman's  Idea"  takes  its  place  with  the  many  advances  and  achievements  that  enrich 
jnerican  life  today... Just  as  "an  institution  is  the  lengthened  shadow  of  one  man"  so  the  Lane  Bryant 
lops  in  14  cities  are  "the  lengthened  shadow"  of  the  woman  Lane  Bryant . . .  shops  devoted  exclusively 
to  the  fashion  needs  of .  .  .  Larger  Women  .  .  .  Half-Sizes  .  .  .  Jr,  Plenty  .  .  . 
MotherS'to-be .  .  .  Tall-Sizes .  .  .  Chubby  Girls  and  'Teens 


94 


I,  \  I)  I   !•:  s  '     II  ()  \i   !•:     J  o  u  i{   \   \  1, 


Jiinnnry,  195:i 


(Continued  from  Fane  92) 
arms.  He  fastened  his  eyes  upon  me  and 
asked,  "Have  you  seen  the  child,  Mr.  Bruck- 
ner? He  is  a  handsome  baby  and  has  a  well- 
formed  and  developed  body." 

I  was  uneasy.  I  kept  expecting  this  man  to 
tell  me  that  they  were  unable  to  keep  the 
baby  and  that  I  would  be  compelled  to  take 
him  to  our  home.  I  knew  that  without  this 
doctor's  approval  such  would  certainly  be 
the  case. 

I  must  have  appeared  distraught,  because 
he  spoke  in  a  gentler  tone.  "You  may  go 
home  now,  Mr.  Bruckner,  and  do  not  worry. 
We  are  not  going  to  force  you  to  keep  your 
child  if  you  do  not  want  him.  He  will  cer- 
*  tainly  have  to  be  kept  at  the  hospital  for  at 
least  a  month.  That  should  be  time  enough 
for  you  to  give  the  matter  more  considera- 
tion." 

I  thanked  him.  I  liked  this  doctor.  Sid 
wanted  me  to  come  home  with  him,  but  I 
refused.  I  made  a  call  to  tell  you  that  my 
mission  was  accomplished.  I  was  terribly 
tired  when  I  got  back  to  my  mother's  house. 
She  wanted  to  know  what  had  happened, 
and  I  told  her. 

I  lay  down  across  the  bed,  every  muscle  in 
my  body  aching.  Karen  was  lonely  and  un- 
happy and  wanted  me  to  play  with  her.  I  did 
and  felt  better  for  it. 

Before  I  went  to  see  you  that  night  I  took 
a  shower  and  shaved  and  my  spirits  ascended. 
When  I  told  you  about  Karen  you  insisted  on 
speaking  to  her  and  it  was  after  you  did  that 
you  thought  you  should  call  your  family  in 
Cleveland. 

When  I  left  your  room  that  night  I  was 
stopped  by  one  of  the  nurses.  She  said,  "I 
took  care  of  your  baby  in  the  nursery  here. 
Where  is  he  now?" 

I  told  hsf  the  truth  and  she  did  not  make 
any  comment.  Then  I  asked,  "What  was  he 
like?" 

"He  was  quiet  and  good  and  beautiful." 
she  replied.  "  He  never  cried,  never  demanded 
attention.  I  hope  the  doctors  find  him  to  be 
healthy  and  strong  and  that  you  will  find 
yourself  eager  to  love  and  raise  him."  Before 
I  could  utter  another  word  she  was  gone. 

After  I  left  your  mother  with  you  at  the 
hospital  the  next  day,  I  decided  to  stop  off 
to  see  the  chaplain  at  the  veterans'  hospital 
again.  I  wanted  to  let  him  know  what  had 
happened.  He  listened  quietly  and  when  I 
had  finished  told  me  to  wait  while  he  made  a 
phone  call. 

When  he  called  me  back  into  his  office  he 
had  a  smile  on  his  face  and  told  me  Dr.  Ar- 
thur Abramson  wanted  to  see  me. 

I  was  not  familiar  with  the  name,  so  the 
chaplain  told  me  about  him.  Doctor  Abram- 
son had  been  chief  of  orthopedic  service  of 
the  Ninety-ninth  General  Hospital  during 
the  Battle  of  the  Bulge.  He  had  been  hit  with 
a  shell  and  this  had  resulted  in  his  becoming 
a  paraplegic.  He  had  been  confined  to  the 
Halloran  Veterans'  Hospital  after  his  return 
to  the  United  States  and  had  made  such 
progress  that  he  had  been  appointed  head  of 
physical  medicine  and  rehabilitation  at 
Bronx  Veterans'  Hospital. 

The  chaplain  added,  "That  is  why  I  felt 
you  should  go  to  see  him.  If  there  is  anyone 
who  could  help  you,  it  would  surely  be  he. 
He  drives  his  own  car,  leads  an  active  social 
life,  speaks  at  conventions  and  has  recently 
been  appointed  by  the  President  to  be  one  of 
a  committee  of  three  to  review  the  problems 
of  veterans.  He  is  also  an  adviser  to  the  Vet- 
erans Administration  on  spinal-cord  injury; 
instructor  in  rehabilitation  at  New  York 
University  Medical  School,  assistant  attend- 
ing physician  at  Bellevue  Hospital,  guest  lec- 
turer at  Columbia  University  Physical  Ther- 
apy School  and  a  consultant  on  other  hos- 
pital staffs." 

I  became  more  certain  each  moment  that 
this  man  would  certainly  be  the  best  quali- 
fied of  all  persons  to  advise  me.  I  thanked 
this  man  of  God  and  went  in  search  of  Dr. 
Arthur  Abramson. 

His  secretary  must  have  been  expecting 
me,  because  she  admitted  me  almost  im- 
mediately. As  I  entered  I  saw  a  broad, 
husky,  handsome  man  seated  in  a  wheel 
chair  behind  a  desk.  He  had  thick  black  hair 
and  friendly  dark  eyes.  He  stretched  out  his 


hand  to  me  and  asked  me  to  tell  him  about 
the  child. 

After  about  thirty  minutes  he  said,  "Nat- 
urally when  the  child  is  pronounced  fit  and 
healthy,  as  he  will  be,  you  will  take  him 
home."  He  didn't  phrase  the  words  as  a  ques- 
tion, but  made  it  a  definite  statement. 

I  hesitated  and  then  asked,  "But  how 
could  we  raise  him  as  a  normal  child?" 

In  his  loud  voice  he  boomed  back  at  me, 
"Why,  of  course  you  will  raise  the  child. 
There  is  no  question  about  that.  My  dear 
Mr.  Bruckner,  if  you  think  you  have  trou- 
bles, take  a  look  around  you  at  the  people  in 
this  place.  Why,  of  course  you  will  take  him 
home  and  he  will  grow  up  into  a  man  you  will 
be  proud  of.  I  myself  will  help  him  all  I  am 
able." 

He  raised  one  hand  and  I  knew  the  inter- 
view was  at  an  end.  I  thanked  him  and  tried 
to  convey  my  appreciation  of  his  taking  the 
time  to  listen  to  my  story.  For  the  first  time 
I  had  met  someone  who  gave  me  hope. 

^Vhen  my  husband  had  come  to  the  conclu- 
sion of  his  narrative  we  three  sat  silently. 
I  met  Hy's  eyes  and  then  reached  over  to  pat 
his  hand  gently.  My  husband  turned  to  my 
mother.  "  Well,  mom,  tell  me  what  you  think 
about  it?" 

My  mother  answered,  "So  far  you  have 
done  the  only  thing  possible.  We  will  have  to 
wait  and  see  what  God  means  to  happen." 

When  Hy  and  I  were  in  bed  and  the  lights 
off  we  discussed  and  examined  again  all  the 
facts,  but  it  was  no  use.  There  was  nothing 
we  could  now  do.  The  future  of  this  child 
was  in  the  jurisdiction  of  God. 

Next  morning  I  had  Hy  pack  out  of  sight 
the  new  bathinet  and  crib  and  other  baby 
needs  we  had  prepared.  I  insisted  on  getting 
out  of  bed  that  day.  I  wanted  desperately  to 
regain  my  strength  and  hoped  that  a  busy, 
useful  day  would  help  my  mental  restoration 
too. 

I  had  no  visitors  my  first  day  home,  but  I 
was  not  that  fortunate  the  next  day.  A 
steady  stream  of  neighbors  arrived  from 
noontime  on.  They  were  uncomfortable  be- 
cause this  was  a  sad  duty  call  that  must  be 
paid,  and  curious  as  to  why  my  son  had  sud- 
denly died.  Hy  was  out  most  of  the  day.  but 
I  kept  mother  at  my  side  continually. 

I  dreaded  these  people  and  the  unvoiced 
questions  in  their  eyes.  I  was  afraid  of  the 
silences  and  covered  them  by  chattering 
about  anything  and  everything. 

My  mother-in-law  walked  into  the  house 
at  about  nine  o'clock.  I  was  petrified  she 
would  get  teary  and  emotional.  I  sat  there, 
tense  and  suddenly  wordless,  and  my  mood 
must  have  been  guessed  by  my  company,  be- 
cause the  last  of  my  visitors  left. 

When  they  walked  out  the  door  my 
mother-in-law  started  to  cry  brokenly.  She 
asked  over  and  over,  "Why  did  this  have  to 
happen  to  me?  Why  did  this  have  to  happen 
to  me?"  This  was  the  first  I  had  seen  Hy's 
mother  since  the  baby  had  been  born  and  I 
knew  that  I  could  do  nothing  to  hold  back 
her  tears.  I  bit  my  lips  and  said  nothing.  I 
was  determined  that  as  soon  as  this  session 
was  over  I  would  let  her  know  firmly  that 
there  were  to  be  no  more  scenes  like  this.  Hy 
and  I  had  enough  difficulty  keeping  our  spir- 
its high  without  someone  breaking  down  all 
our  barriers  again. 

After  we  had  persuaded  her  to  leave  I  was 
so  worn  out  that  I  crumpled  up  into  a  heap.  I 
cried  myself  dry  of  all  the  tears  I  had  man- 
aged to  keep  under  control  that  nerve-rack- 
ing day,  and  when  I  finally  got  into  bed  I 
was  drained  of  strength. 

The  next  day  my  husband  returned  to  his 
job.  I  had  more  company  and  better  control 
of  the  situation.  As  long  as  someone  was  in 
the  house  with  me  I  knew  I  could  handle  the 
situation.  I  dreaded  the  day  when  my 
mother  would  have  to  leave.  She  answered 
all  the  questions  and  always  replied  with  the 
same  answer  we  had  prepared  in  advance. 

My  daughter  was  a  great  consolation  dur- 
ing this  bleak  period.  When  I  had  arrived 
home  she  had  immediately  noticed  my  small 
stomach  and  had  inquired  about  it.  I  told 
her  the  baby  had  come  out  of  it  but  he  was 
sick  and  had  gone  away,  and  she  did  not  pur- 
sue the  topic  further. 


Hy  phoned  the  hospital  daily  for  reports 
of  the  boy's  progress.  Hy  never  spoke  to  Dr. 
W.  directly,  always  to  the  social-service 
worker.  Miss  C.  was  kind  and  hopeful.  She 
told  my  husband  that  William,  as  he  was 
called  in  the  hospital,  was  a  bright,  happy, 
beautiful  youngster.  The  doctors  were  giv- 
ing him  thorough  examinations  and  X  rays. 
He  was  fine  except  that  he  was  a  poor  eater. 
He  did  not  gain  weight.  The  doctors  were 
changing  his  formula  in  the  hope  that  a  new 
one  would  be  more  satisfactory. 

Although  we  did  not  want  the  child  with 
us,  we  were  deeply  interested  in  his  welfare. 
These  calls  were  never  made  from  our  own 
home  phone.  Our  walls  were  very  thin,  and 
conversation  could  be  clearly  heard  from  one 
apartment  to  the  other.  We  were  actually 
terrified  that  someone  would  overhear  us 
speaking  and  get  suspicious  about  the  child 
we  said  was  dead.  I  used  to  stand  in  the  hall 
near  the  phone  whispering  nervously,  "You 
are  talking  too  loudly,  they  will  be  sure  to 
hear  you  next  door." 

We  still  felt  like  some  kind  of  fugitives, 
and  thought  the  fact  that  we  had  borne  an 
armless  child  placed  us  in  a  strange  world 
apart  from  the  rest  of  civilization.  We  were 
ashamed,  although  we  would  not  even  ad- 
mit it  to  each  other. 

The  phone  calls  to  the  hospital  were  be- 
coming less  encouraging.  Something  was 
wrong  with  the  child.  He  was  not  able  to  re- 
tain food  and  was  losing  precious  weight. 
Miss  C.  talked  about  William  continually; 


VICTORY  IN  SIGHT 
IN  POLIO  FIGHT 

Great  discoveries  are  near 
as  vaccine  tests  are  reported 

Your  Dimes  Can  Speed 
the  Conquest  of  Polio 

MARCH  OF  DIMES 

January  2  to  31 


how  beautiful  he  was,  what  a  sunny  disposi- 
tion he  had.  She  asked  my  husband  if  he 
would  not  like  to  see  him  just  once.  My  hus- 
band had  to  say  no.  We  both  knew  that  our 
intention  to  deny  him  the  right  of  our  par- 
enthood would  be  more  difficult  if  we  saw 
him  even  once. 

So  far  as  the  hospital  was  aware,  I  did  not 
know  the  child  was  alive.  We  were  afraid  to 
tell  them  in  fear  they  might  force  us  to  take 
him  home.  My  husband  worried  inwardly, 
but  tried  to  shield  me  from  knowing  this. 
Miss  F.,  of  the  welfare  agency,  was  also  un- 
der the  impression  that  I  did  not  know  of  the 
child's  survival.  All  messages  were  delivered 
to  my  sister-in-law's  home. 

About  three  weeks  after  I  had  been  home 
we  were  notified  that  Miss  F.  wanted  to  see 
my  husband  at  once.  Hy  called  and  made  an 
appointment  to  see  her  the  following  day. 
The  conference  lasted  more  than  two  hours. 
As  soon  as  Miss  F.  had  left,  Hy  called  to  let 
me  know  what  had  transpired.  Miss  F.  had 
insisted  that  I  be  told  the  truth  concerning 
the  child.  Hy  begged  off  and  played  for  more 
time  by  telling  her  that  I  was  just  regaining 
my  strength.  We  were  postponing  the  inevi- 
table ...  for  what  we  did  not  know. 

Perhaps  we  still  felt  that  fate  would  take 
the  matter  out  of  our  hands  The  hospital 
was  not  ready  to  release  him  yet,  anyhow. 
He  was  still  very  sick  and  losing  weight.  He 
could  not  be  taken  from  the  hospital  until 
pronounced  fit  and  healthy. 

A  few  days  after  this,  we  had  another  call. 
Dr.  W.,  the  physician  in  charge  of  pediatrics, 
wanted  to  see  Hy.  Hy  made  an  appointment 
for  the  next  morning,  and  as  soon  as  it  was 
over,  came  straight  home  to  tell  me  all  about 


■  ffli 


it.  Here,  in  my  husband's  own  words,  arel 
facts  of  what  took  place: 

When  I  got  to  the  hospital  I  was  told  to  go 
to  the  third  floor  to  see  Dr.  W.  There  was  ailJJ 
nurse  on  duty  in  the  corridor  and  she  asked  |  j!^, 
my  name.  I  could  almost  read  the  expression  i  ;!j 
on  her  face.  She  was  shocked  that  I  was  then!^ 
father  of  William  and  wondered  how  I  could  ]1] 
call  myself  a  father  and  take  such  little  in-  j", 
terest  in  his  welfare.  I  knew  she  disapproved ; 
of  me,  and  flinched  under  her  steady  glance.  ; 
Then  she  picked  up  the  phone  and  asked  for 
Dr.  W.  After  she  put  the  phone  back  she 
turned  to  me  and  said,  "Take  a  chair  here 
He  will  see  you  soon." 

I  seemed  to  be  sitting  in  a  center  hall  witl^ 
large  wards  on  each  side.  They  were  filled 
with  children  of  all  ages.  I  could  hear  their 
laughter  and  crying  and  it  disturbed  me^ 
Nurses  kept  walking  through  this  hall.  I  felt 
uneasy  as  they  looked  at  me.  I  did  not  want'_^ 
to  be  censured  by  these  strangers. 

I  was  getting  ready  to  leave  when  Dr.  W,— 
appeared.  He  shook  hands  with  me  before  he  , 
asked  if  I  would  like  to  see  the  baby.  I  an-'"*' 
swered  in  a  low  tone,  "No."  His  next  words 
sounded  crisp  and  disappointed.  "Very  well 
then.  We  will  go  to  my  office."  ' 

When  we  were  seated  a  few  minutes  latei 
Dr.  W.  told  me  what  had  been  done  for  the' 
child.  The  doctors  were  not  completely  fin- 
ished, but  were  convinced  there  was  nothing'  '"jj 
wrong  other  than  his  lack  of  arms.  He  was' 
still  losing  weight  and  the  doctors  were  try- 
ing to  discover  the  cause.  ' 

Dr.  W.  dropped  his  professional  dignity^ 
when  he  spoke  again.  "Mr.  Bruckner,  youi^ 
son  is  neither  a  freak  nor  a  monstrosity  ai 
you  have  been  led  to  believe.  He  is  as  intelli-' 
gent  and  personable  an  infant  as  I  have  eve/ 
had  the  good  fortune  to  care  for.  Why  don'tji 
you  see  him  while  you  are  here?  Just  give 
yourself  a  fair  chance  to  know  him  for  the 
lovable  baby  he  is.  Every  nurse  and  doctor 
who  sees  him  is  devoted  to  him."  ' 

I  wanted  to  believe  him.  I  wanted  to  see- 
the child.  But  I  remembered  the  promise  I  7 
had  made  to  my  wife,  so  I  mutely  shook  my; 
head. 

His  voice  was  hard  and  curt  when  he  spoke 
again.  "Very  well,  Mr.  Bruckner.  It  shall  be' 
as  you  desire."  He  riffled  among  the  papersf*^ 
on  his  desk  and,  without  looking  up,  said, 
"That  is  all  now.  You  may  leave  if  you  wish.' 
Miss  C.  will  keep  you  informed  how  he  pro- 
gresses." ' 

I  turned  and  started  for  the  door  when  he 
stopped  me.  He  stood  up  and  spoke.  "Mr.' 
Bruckner,  your  child  is  completely  normal; 
and  bright  mentally.  What  is  going  hap- 
pen to  him  after  he  is  released  from  this 
place? " 

I  muttered,  "Miss  F.  told  me  he  would  bell" ' 
placed  in  an  institution." 

His  answer  was,  "Do  you,  yourself,  know' 
of  any  institution  which  would  take  a  child 
like  yours?" 

"No,"  I  said,  "but  she  told  me  that  he: 
might  be  able  to  be  placed  in  a  private  foster- 
home."  '■ 

His  answer  was  cruel  and  to  the  point. 
"What  makes  you  believe  that  a  private 
home  would  be  willing  to  accept  the  respon- 
sibility for  such  a  child?  Would  a  stranger  do 
that  if  his  own  parents  would  not?  "  ' 

I  felt  like  a  heel  and  lowered  my  eyes  to'  ^ 
the  ground. 

"That  child  is  as  intelligent  as  you  or  !,■  *1 
and  the  only  place  left  for  him  would  be  a  J^f 
mental  institution,"  Dr.  W.  told  me.  "I 
would  not  allow  such  a  child  to  be  placed 
among  the  mentally  retarded."  I  could  see 
the  fury  in  his  eyes.  "Very  well,  Mr.  Bruck-'f'l's 
ner,  we  shall  let  matters  ride  for  the  present. 
If  anything  comes  up  I  shall  get  in  touch 
with  you.  Good-by." 

I  was  tired  and  bewildered  by  the  inter- 
view. I  decided  to  stop  off  at  the  office  of  Miss '  '"ti 
C,  whom  I  had  never  met.  I  had  expected  J  Jfli 
the  doctor  to  side  with  me,  not  against  me.  I 
began  to  feel  uncertain  of  my  attitude  and  |"'o 
the  steps  we  had  taken  to  dispose  of  the 
child.  I  was  sure  that  as  a  medical  man  he 
could  see  why  we  could  not  take  the  child  |"y 
home.  I  felt  sick  in  the  pit  of  my  stomach.  'Ph 

When  I  asked  to  see  Miss  C,  I  was  pre- 1 
pared  for  another  series  of  arguments  and  I've 


k 

:li£i 


:lti 
Ml 
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ftf 


A    I)    I  K 


II    O    M  I 


J    <i  I 


91 


1  my  defenses  ready.  Insteatl  I  was  met 
the  sweet  est -faced  Irishwoman  who  ever 
ced  Hiese  United  Stales.  She  was  a 
nan  of  about  sixty  with  difinity  and  urace 
iressed  in  her  every  movement.  When  I 
■oduced  myself  her  face  ht  uj).  Slie  was 
dently  devoted  to  tlie  child.  I  mentioned 
ad  just  si)oken  to  Dr.  W.  She  ln'sitatcd 
siie  answered.  "He  is  a  very  able  doc- 

who  takes  his  job  very  much  to  heart, 
is  fond  of  William,  just  as  we  all  are." 
ihe  did  not  say  another  word  about  him 
■r  that .  When  I  was  ready  to  leave  I  asked 
)ni  I  would  see  alx)ut  finances  at  the  hos- 
il.  She  told  me  to  no  to  Miss  K.  Althou^;h 
;  was  a  city  hos])ital.  I  did  not  want  my 

to  be  treated  for  charity, 
liss  K.  told  me  that  linances  would  not 
jiscussed  until  the  child  was  ready  to  l)e 
nissed.  Both  these  women  were  so  i)leas- 
that  wiien  I  left  the  hosjiital  I  had  almost 
;otten  the  anger  I  felt  at  Dr.  W.'s  insinu- 
ins. 

^iTiiiN  a  few  weeks  My  was  again  called 
ee  Miss  F.  She  told  him  she  had  been  try- 
unsuccessfully  to  lind  an  institution  for 
child.  She  continued,  "Mr.  Bruckner,  it 
ns  there  are  no  institutions  where  your 
could  be  placed.  That  does  not  mean 
I  you  must  take  him  home  now  or  in  the 
r  future.  There  are  plenty  of  private  in- 
jtions,  but  no  public  ones  which  the  child 
lid  be  (lualilied  to  enter.  The  private  ones 
extremely  high  in  cost." 
ly  was  thoughtfully  silent  for  a  few  mo- 
lts before  he  spoke.  "  Do  you  know  of  any 
;s  like  ours  in  which  the  child  was  actually 
:ed?" 

liss  F".  said,  "Only  where  the  families 
e  broken  up  and  there  were  actually  no 
les  for  the  children  to  go  into."  She  sighed 

added,  "  It  is  not  going  to  be  easy.  We 
trying  to  find  a  private  home  for  him. 
have  not  given  up,  but  I  honestly  do  not 
w  where  we  go  from  here.  That  is  the 
ion  I  insist  that  you  tell  your  wife  imnie- 
ely.  She  may  want  to  take  the  child  home 

it  is  unfair  to  try  to  make  the  decision 
lout  her  advice.  All  I  want  you  to  do  is 
her  and  then  call  me.  I  will  come  to  talk 
ou  both  and  I  promise  that  I  will  not  try 
lersuade  you  to  take  him  home  if  you  do 
want  to.  The  hospital  is  not  ready  to  re- 
e  him,  so  you  will  have  plenty  of  time  to 
ik  the  situation  over." 
ly  husband  promised  to  tell  me  within  a 
k  and  to  get  in  touch  with  her  immedi- 
y  afterward.  He  knew  it  was  impossible 
(ostpone  this  decision  any  longer. 
Don  after,  matters  seemed  to  be  taken 
ipletely  out  of  our  hands.  Hy  called  the 
jital  and  was  told  by  Miss  C.  that  Wil- 
1  was  gravely  ill.  Her  voice  sounded 
itened  and  my  husband  became  alarmed 

i^hen  Hy  got  home  that  night  he  did  not 
me  all  the  facts.  He  just  said  that  the 
y  was  ill. 

iarly  next  morning  when  Hy  called  he 
told  that  the  baby  was  losing  rapidly, 
demanded  to  speak  to  Dr.  W.  and  was 
Hy  connected  with  him.  Dr.  W.  said  that 
jlight  was  so  grave  that  the  doctors  could 
ilmost  nothing.  He  added.  "Perhaps  his 
Lh  would  be  the  best  solution  for  all 
:erned." 

[y  did  not  go  to  work  this  day.  We  both 
;d  the  floor,  not  talking  much  but  each 
ried.  Now  that  death  was  so  close  to  our 
d  we  did  not  welcome  it  as  we  had 
ight  we  would.  We  were  frightened  and 
orment.  We  spoke  to  Miss  C.  about  two 
rs  after  our  first  call.  She  sounded  tired 
without  hope.  She  said,  "  I  was  just  up 
ee  him  a  while  ago  and  it  was  so  pitiful 
ching  that  baby  fighting  for  his  very 
tence.  I  wondered  for  the  first  time 
•ther  the  struggle  to  keep  him  alive  was 
th  the  effort.  He  is  so  tiny,  so  helpless." 
he  was  obviously  crying.  When  she  could 
Lrol  herself  she  spoke  again.  "Call  me 
r.  I  do  not  believe  he  will  live  through 
day." 

ly  could  not  sit  doing  nothing  and  said 
t  he  was  going  out.  When  I  asked  where 
vas  going  he  told  me  he  did  not  know.  He 
ve  in  his  car  and  quite  by  accident  passed 


a  cemetery.  He  whh  mhcrcd  by  the  thouKht 
of  his  child's  imminent  death.  lie  Hiopptti 
the  car  and  sat  thinking.  Would  not  Iuh  con- 
science l)other  him  for  the  rest  of  Iuh  lift  Ix-- 
cause  he  had  never  seen  the  face  of  hin  son? 
Was  death  really  the  solution,  or  did  it  he  ,„ 
our  hearts? 

He  suddenly  could  not  wail  until  he  had 
called  the  hospital,  but  he  wanted  to  Ix;  at 
home  with  his  wife  at  Ins  side.  As  mnm  as  he 
got  mside  the  iI<x,t  he  phoned  the  hospiial 
He  said.  "Miss  C.  this  is  Mr.  Bruckner 
again." 

There  was  joy  in  her  voice  as  she  replied, 
"I  am  so  glad  that  you  called.  He  is  :ilive  and 
the  crisis  is  over  He  is  gom^  to  ^;ci  well.  He 
IS  going  to  live!"  There  was  happinesH  re- 
llected  on  the  face  of  my  husband,  t<K),  when 
he  turned  to  me. 

We  did  not  talk  much  until  later  that  eve- 
ning after  our  daughter  was  in  Ix  d.  We  could 
not  |)ostiX)ne  any  longer  our  decision.  We 
had  been  basing  our  hopes  and  future  living 
on  the  assumption  he  would  not  live.  Kvi- 
dently  our  thinking  had  l)een  wrong  from  the 
beginning.  The  doctors  had  been  correct; 
there  was  nothing  wrong  with  the  child  other 
than  his  kick  of  arms. 

We  talked  through  most  of  the  night, 
searching  for  the  answers  we  must  find.  Up 
to  now,  we  had  been  able  to  convince  our- 
selves of  his  imminent  death,  We  had  Ix-en 
selfish  in  our  belief  that  we  could  never 
undertake  the  responsibility  of  raising  him. 
That  was  over  and  done  with.  We  had  the 
courage  to  admit  our  mistake,  but  did  we 
have  the  stamina  to  face  the  challenge  that 
the  future  brought? 

Would  our  daughter.  Karen,  accept  him? 
What  would  having  an  armless  brother  do 
to  our  daughter's  life?  What  alx)ul  William? 
What  would  happen  when  he  realized  he  was 
different?  Would  he  blame  us  for  his  de- 
formity? Were  we  capable  of  feeling  honest 
love  and  tenderness  for  him?  Could  we  actu- 
ally love  him  as  we  did  our  daughter,  or 
would  our  love  be  reserved  and  resentful? 
Would  we  feel  shame  and  doubt  when  peo- 
ple turned  to  stare  and  whisper?  Would  our 
emotions  be  transmitted  to  our  son?  Cer- 
tainly there  would  be  considerable  expense 
involved  in  his  upbringing.  It  would  mean 
depriving  ourselves  of  some  of  the  comforts 
we  had  hitherto  considered  necessities.  Our 
daughter,  too.  would  have  to  be  limited  to 
provide  for  her  brother.  Was  this  fair? 

Strangely,  with  each  obstacle  we  discov- 
ered, our  purpose  became  more  clear.  We 
knew  that  we  could  do  no  less  than  to  take 
him  home— no  matter  what  the  conse- 
quences. 

Early  next  morning  my  husband  called 
Miss  F.  to  tell  her  our  decision.  Next  Hy 
called  Miss  C.  She  was  almost  incoherent 
with  joy.  We  made  plans  to  visit  our  son  the 
coming  Sunday. 

We  were  to  be  at  the  hospital  at  two 
o'clock.  We  had  made  plans  to  leave  Karen 
with  her  grandmother.  We  had  told  my 
husband's  family  very  little  of  what  had 
happened;  all  they  knew  was  that  the  child 
had  been  ill  and  we  were  preparing  to  see 
him  for  the  first  time. 

U%^E  were  at  the  entrance  to  the  hospital 
by  one-thirty.  Miss  C.  was  to  take  us  to 
William.  She  smiled  pleasantly,  asked  no 
embarrassing  questions  and  tactfully  chatted 
about  insignificant  subjects.  I  knew  she  ob- 
served me  carefully,  taking  in  every  detail 
of  my  nervousness.  I  wanted  this  woman  to 
like  me.  to  excuse  my  supposed  indifference 
of  the  past  weeks,  to  understand  our  mo- 
tives. Her  smile  was  sincere  and  I  began  to 
relax  a  little. 

We  went  into  Dr.  W.'s  office.  He  looked 
up  at  us  with  what  seemed  to  be  an  angry 
expression  and  his  first  words  were  curt. 
"Tell  me.  Mrs.  Bruckner,  just  why  have  you 
come  here  today?" 

His  question  took  me  completely  off  guard 
and  I  was  plain  scared.  Finally  I  spoke: 
"Doctor  W.,  you  must  realize  how  much  of 
a  shock  our  child's  condition  was  to  us. 
Even  the  doctor  who  delivered  him  was 
horrified."  I  wet  my  lips  nervously  and  con- 
tinued, "  We  were  told  he  was  a  monstrosity, 


and  everyone  iiaid  we  could  noi  \Mimt\Ay 
rai«-  him  My  hunlKind  IIm»ukIiI  he  ^-MfUiitm, 
tlie  Ix'Hl  lliing  when  he  placeil  tuin  ln-re  iii 
the  hmpital  Hi-  did  not  tell  nw  the  truth 
from  the  tKgiriiiiiiK  Ijetaune  lie  wan  m>  cit- 
lain  the  chikl  would  not  live.  How  could  we 
have  taken  hiu  li  a  child  home  with  u« 

He  inlerrupled  Mm  Briukmr.  I  :iiri 
not  asking  for  your  i  xciis4n  |  want  lo  kiix.^ 
the  purixnie  of  your  viMt  iixlay." 

It  weinerl  lo  me  lluit  hin  voice  wa»  a  litlle 
gentler,  I  lold  hini,  "After  the  baby  wan  tut 
Hick  Hy  fell  certain,  junt  an  I  did,  llial  if  lie 
pulled  through  that  crinin  he  would  certainly 
live  a  n(jrmal.  long  life  We  decided  we 
wanted  lo  ttee  the  child  and  then,  if  you  lold 
U8  that  he  was  well,  |x--rha|>it  we  w<»ul<l  lake 
him  home." 


lo  hear  the 
I  hai  iH  whal 

He  Hiniled. 

How  you  lo 


I  sroi'i'Ki)  and  was  Hurprinefl 
d(x;lor  sjiy  in  a  friendly  voice.  " 
I  was  ho|)ing  you  wouUI  s;iy  ' 
"Of  crmrsc  we  are  not  going  lo 
lake  Ihe  child  home  in  the  condition  he  ih 
now  in.  He  has  lost  weight  and  is  si  ill  a 
pretty  sick  youngster.  Bui  I  am  glad  thai 
you  have  made  up  your  minds  to  nee  him.  I 
am  sure  any  apprehension  you  may  have 
felt  will  dis;ii)ix-ar  once  you  have  seen  him. 
Now  rememlxr  he  has  lx.en  a  very  sick  liltle 
baby  and  the  results  of  that  illness  are  still 
in  evidence.  He  is  skinny  and  pale  and  weak. 
You  must  lake  those  facts  into  consideration 
when  you  see  him." 

He  picked  u\y  the  phone  and  asked  for  the 
children's  ward,  I  could  hear  his  voice  say, 
"The  Bruckner  parents  are  here  now.  Is 
Willie  awake?  We  will  be  up  lo  see  him  in  a 
few  minutes." 

He  arose  and  started  toward  the  door  with 
my  husband  and  me  following.  We  went  up 
a  night  of  stairs  and  suddenly  were  in  a 
room  full  of  youngsters  of  all  ages.  It  was  a 
large  ward,  filled  with  many,  many  cribs, 
all  painted  a  hospital  white.  Most  of  the 
children  had  visitors,  but  a  few  pathetic 
children  sal  alone.  They  smiled  at  the  dfjctor 
as  he  passed  them.  I  could  see  that  these 
children  had  a  genuine  affection  for  this  man 
and  knew  he  must  be  kind  and  gentle  with 
them. 

He  stopped  suddenly.  "  I  am  purposely 
taking  you  through  the  wards.This  is  against 
the  rules  but  I  am  sure  this  lime  rules  can 
be  safely  broken.  I  want  you  lo  judge  for 
yourselves  whether  just  a  lack  cf  arms  is 
such  a  terrible  calamity." 

He  stopped  before  a  small  crib,  motioned 
us  to  l(X)k  in.  The  child  we  were  staring  at 
was  passive,  inert  and  horribly  malformed. 
It  was  not  his  body  that  shocked  one.  but 
his  head.  It  was  the  size  of  a  grotesque 
pumpkin.  There  was  no  sound,  no  motion, 
nothing  to  warrant  our  believing  the  child 
was  even  alive. 

The  doctor  spoke.  "That  child  is  about 
two  years  old.  slowly  dying  of  what  is  com- 
monly called  "water  on  the  brain.'  He  has 
no  mentality.  He  just  lies  there  and  will 
continue  to  be  like  that  until  his  fortunate 
death." 

I  squeezed  my  husband's  hand  as  we 
walked  away  from  that  crib  to  another.  The 
doctor  waited  for  us  to  reach  his  side.  I  saw 
a  small  baby  completely  wrapped  in  a  blan- 
ket. Dr.  W.  addressed  my  husband.  "Take 
a  good  look  at  this  infant.  Mr.  Bruckner. 
She  is  less  than  a  week  old.  She  was  bom 
with  part  of  her  face  missing.  She  has  no 
complete  nose  and  only  one  eye.  That  would 
not  be  too  tragic,  as  plastic  surgery  can 
perform  miracles.  Unfortunately  the  child 
also  is  lacking  a  complete  brain.  For  that 
science  can  find  no  cure.  There  is  no  doubt 
about  where  this  child  will  be  placed." 

He  paused,  allow  ing  his  words  to  penetrate 
our  puzzled  minds.  Dr.  W.  said.  "  I  have 
shown  you  these  children  for  a  purpose.  I 
w^ant  you  to  think  how  fortunate  you  are, 
having  a  son  with  only  his  arms  missing  but. 
thank  God.  born  with  a  bright  mind.  It  will 
be  a  shock  to  you  when  you  first  see  him.  I 
realize  that.  If  you  make  up  your  minds 
beforehand  that  you  will  not  let  it  disturb 
your  future  thinking,  you  will  be  all  right.  I 
am  going  to  leave  you  here.  Miss  C.  will  ac- 
company you  to  your  child.  Good  luck  and 
good-by."  He  smiled  and  walked  away. 


/ 


BRIUO 

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In  teff  {fig  iifrriQ  / 

Whisk  burnt  pans  bright  as  new — 
with  a  square  metal-fiber  Brillo 
pad-with-soap!  Scientific  tests 
prove  Brillo  gives  aluminums  twice 
the  shim  in  half  the  time!  Really 
outshines  all  cleansers  tested. 
Brillo  has  jeweler's  polish.  Fine 
for  broilers,  stove  burners,  too! 
RED  ^o\— soap -filled  pads 
GREEN  hO\—pads  plus  cake  soap 

THRIFTIER— 5  and  12  pad  boxes 

Btillo  k^iQ  bngor/ 


96 


LADIES'  HO 


ME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


you 


Picture  yourself  in  a  peach  orchard — 
and  imagine  the  peaches  you'd  pick! 

They'd  be  the  roundest,  fullest 
beauties  your  eye  could  single  out. 
They'd  be  the  fruits  neither  too  firm 
nor  too  yielding  to  your  gentle 
touch.  They'd  be  the  ones  with  the 
warm,  crimson  "blush"  on  their  upper 


surfaces,  the  telltale  sign  that  they're 
right,  ready  and  waiting  for  you. 

These  are  the  luscious  peaches  you 
get  in  the  can  labeled  Libby's.  Good 
to  look  at,  wonderful  to  eat — peaches 
you'll  be  proud  to  serve  in  any  of  the 
hundred  ways  that  people  enjoy  them! 
Pick  Libby's. 


Pick  LIBBY'S  off 


your  grocer  s  s 


and  you're 
picking  the  peaches 
you'd  pick  from 
the  trees 


helf 


Libby,  McNeill  &  Libby, 
Chicago  9,  Illinois 


We  were  in  a  small  room  which  led  to  the 
wards  on  each  side.  Seated  at  a  desk  was  a 
\  ()ung  Negro  nurse.  Miss  C.  introduced  us. 

This  is  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bruckner.  They  are 
here  to  see  William." 

The  nurse  smiled  pleasantly  as  she  told  us 
we  would  need  hospital  gowns  and  masks  be- 
fore we  could  go  into  his  room.  When  we  had 
our  gowns  and  masks  adjusted  we  were  taken 
into  a  room  directly  behind  the  desk  and  in- 
structed to  wash  our  hands.  We  turned  and 
heard  Miss  C.  say,  "Come  over  and  look  at 
your  son." 

She  was  pointing  to  a  small  padded  crib.  I 
clenched  my  fists  tightly  as  I  followed  Miss 
C.  "Here  he  is.  Say  hello  to  your  mommy 
and  daddy,  William,"  she  said. 

He  was  lying  on  his  back,  staring  at  the 
ceiling  with  deep  blue,  enormous  eyes.  Miss 
L .  softly  called  his  name,  and  he  turned 
toward  her  with  a  smile.  When  he  smiled  his 
entire  face  lit  up  with  warmth  and  beauty, 
his  intelligent  eyes  laughed  and  his  nose 
crinkled. 

I  searciied  for  my  husband's  hand,  found 
it  and  squeezed  it  hard.  My  heart  was  beat- 
ing like  a  drum.  I  felt  weak,  almost  unable 
to  stand.  Suddenly  the  tight  knob  in  my 
heart  melted  away  and  I  felt  tears  of  joy.  I 
could  hardly  see  my  Bill  for  the  tears,  and 
hastily  brushed  them  away.  I  looked  at 
him  again,  hungrily,  achingly,  wanting  only 
to  hold  him  tight  against  my  heart. 

As  though  she  could  read  my  thoughts. 
Miss  C.  picked  him  up  and  sat  down  in  a 
chair.  She  held  him  tenderly,  talking  to  him 
softly,  and  he  was  responding  with  coos  and 
smiles.  He  had  fine  red-gold  hair  which 
looked  as  if  it  had  recently  been  combed  into 
curls.  He  had  a  small  face  with  a  pointed  chin 
and  short  nose  and  a  full  rosebud  mouth.  I 
had  not  let  my  eyes  travel  farther  than  his 
face.  Now  I  glanced  at  the  skinny,  bony  neck 
that  protruded  from  his  nightgown.  I  was 
conscious  of  the  empty  left  sleeve  that  hung 
awkwardly  limp.  The  long  sleeve  of  his  gown 
on  the  right  side  had  been  rolled  up  so  that 
three  small  fingernails  were  visible.  For  a 
moment  I  felt  my  heart  beating  with  hope. 
Perhaps  he  did  have  a  right  arm,  after  all. 
That  joy  lasted  only  a  second  as  I  glanced  at 
that  sleeve  again,  and  saw  that  it  was  so 
rolled  up  lliat  an  arm  could  not  have  fitted 
into  it.  I  forced  my  eyes  away  and  they  trav- 
eled down  to  his  legs,  kicking  actively  under 
his  gown.  His  legs  were  painfully  skinny 
and  long  and  white.  I  remembered  what  Dr. 
W.  had  told  us  about  his  being  underweight. 

Then  I  heard  Miss  C.  speaking.  "Perhaps 
you  would  like  to  hold  him,  Mrs.  Bruckner." 

I  hesitated,  eager.  "Could  I,  please?"  She 
nodded  and  arose  from  the  chair. 

1  SAT  down  and  stretched  out  my  arms.  My 
son  was  put  into  them  and  1  held  him  tightly. 
I  was  rocking  back  and  forth  with  him  cud- 
dled in  my  arms  and  I  could  not  control  the 
tears  that  were  spilling  over  my  face.  There 
was  no  sound  from  my  Bill.  He  lay  looking 
up  at  me,  puzzled,  as  though  trying  to  re- 
member who  I  was.  Then  he  smiled  and  at 
that  radiant  transformation  my  last  vestige 
of  resistance  slipped  away.  He  was  my  son, 
my  Billy,  the  child  I  had  carried  so  lovingly 
under  my  heart  for  nine  long  months.  How 
could  I  have  ever  tricked  my  mind  into  be- 
lieving I  could  give  him  up? 

I  called  his  name  and  he  stared  up  at  me 
unknowingly. 

Miss  C.  laughed.  "He  doesn't  know  who 
you  are  talking  to.  Around  here  we  call  him 
William  or  Willie." 

I  answered,  "William  is  such  a  big  name 
for  such  a  tiny  baby.  To  me  he  shall  always 
be  just  Billy." 

My  child  was  tired  and  seemed  to  be 
sleepy.  Suddenly  he  twisted  his  face  toward 
his  right  shoulder  and  attempted  to  get  his 
fingers  into  his  mouth.  I  saw  three  tiny,  in- 
credibly small  fingers  underneath  the  sleeve 
of  the  gown.  He  wanted  to  suck  them,  as  all 
Noung  babies  do  for  their  own  pleasure.  He 
was  so  frustrated  as  he  moved  his  face,  seek- 
ing a  way  to  get  his  mouth  at  them.  Then  he 
slopped  and  substituted  his  gown  sleeve.  It 
was  as  though  he  had  learned  by  past  experi- 
ence that  it  was  impossible  to  reach  his  fin- 
gers. 


*  As  Miss  C.  left  the  room  the  nurse  came 
forward  with  a  dish  of  mashed  banana. 
"Your  son  is  a  very  hungry  baby,  Mrs. 
Bruckner,"  she  told  me.  "Perhaps  you  would 
like  to  feed  him  his  banana."  She  handed  me 
the  dish  and  I  began  to  spoon  the  food  into 
the  waiting  mouth  of  my  famished  child.  He 
swallowed  each  spoonful  quickly.  In  just  a 
few  seconds  he  had  emptied  the  dish.  While* 
he  waited  for  more  he  began  to  whimper  in 
protest.  The  nurse  laughed  and  said  she 
would  get  more. 

For  the  first  time  my  husband  and  I  were 
alone  with  our  son.  He  looked  at  me  and  our' 
eyes  clung  together.  Then  we  turned  our 
attention  back  to  the  infant,  lying  so  quietly 
on  my  lap.  1  gently  touched  his  chin,  hi^ 
soft,  fine  hair  and  his  tiny  nose.  I  held  both 
his  feet  in  my  one  palm,  marveling  at  the 
perfection  of  each  toe  with  its  rosy  nail.  I 
cuddled  him  close,  whispering  baby  talk  into  I 
his  tiny  ears.  I  had  forgotten  that  he  v/ay^ 
armless  and  was  accepting  him  in  the  same'  f 
way  any  mother  would  a  child. 

The  nurse  came  back,  bringing  anothei 
dish  of  banana.  She  handed  it  to  me  with  tht  i  | 
comment,  "He  just  started  eating  this  yes-^ 
terday,  but  he  is  so  fond  of  it  he  can't  seem  tc^ 
get  enough."  j 

"  What  else  does  he  eat? "  I  asked.  j 

"Well,  he  can't  take  milk  so  we  give  hinr^ 
thick  cereal  with  formula.  Most  babies  starf 
with  formula  and  then  gradually  work  theii 
way  to  cereal,  but  since  he  cannot  take  th^' 
plain  formula  we  are  reversing  the  rule  witl' 
him.  We  feed  him  every  three  hours  or  whei<' 
he  seems  to  be  hungry."  ' 

The  dish  was  again  empty  and  this  tim( 
his  appetite  was  satisfied.  I  had  not  hearc- 
Miss  C.  return  but  I  now  heard  her  voice.  "  Y 
think  we  ought  to  let  him  sleep.  He  needs' 
rest  almost  as  much  as  nourishment." 

I  was  only  half  listening  to  her.  I  hac' 
pushed  back  the  sleeve  and  stared  at  my 
son's  hand.  He  had  what  looked  like  part  o' 
a  wrist.  Attached  to  this  seemed  to  be  a  smal 
part  of  a  palm  with  those  three  tiny  finger? 
attached.  As  I  touched  them  I  became  awar^ 
that  they  were  held  tightly  together  and  hi 
did  not  move  them  at  all.  I 

Miss  C.  had  been  watching  me  and  no'.- 
she  spoke.  "Mrs.  Bruckner,  would  you  lik.ff 
to  see  the  rest  of  his  unclothed  body  ?  "  ' 

I  shook  my  head  with  fright  and  could  se» 
the  look  of  disappointment  appear  on  Mis.' 
C.'s  face. 

"  I  want  to  see,"  said  my  husband. 

Miss  C.  took  my  almost-sleeping  son  fron" 
my  arms  and  walked  toward  the  crib.  I  couW 
hear  her  speaking  to  him  as  she  removed  hiJ 
gown.  Suddenly  I  hated  myself  for  my  weak' 
ness  and  conflicting  emotions.  I  found  my' 
self  walking  toward  the  crib  before  I  could 
change  my  mind.  ■ 

I  stood  at  my  husband's  side  while  shr 
slipped  off  the  gown  and  I  could  not  represi' 
the  cry  that  came  to  my  lips.  Attached  to  hit 
left  shoulder  were  two  appendages,  not  ever 
fingers;  the  skin  not  separated  but  webbed 
But  these  also  had  rosy  nails.  These  were  tht' 
two  missing  fingers  that  Nature  forgot  t(#ti 
grow  with  the  three  on  the  right  side  of  hi.'f '6 
body. 

It  was  not  a  repulsive  sight,  but  it  was  ^ 
shock.  I  felt  close  to  tears.  I  do  not  knovflF 
what  was  said.  I  know  that  I  started  to  wall 
out  of  the  room  as  he  lay  in  his  crib,  sleeper 
ing  peacefully.  Pif 


We  were  back  in  the  small  alcove.  I  coulcwtl 
see  the  nurses  glancing  at  us.  I  knew  every- 
one must  be  aware  that  we  were  the  Bruck- 
ner parents.  I  did  not  want  to  hide,  I  was 
proud.  These  people  had  cared  for  and  lovec 
my  child.  They  were  not  ashamed  of  hin 
so  why  should  we,  his  parents,  feel  shame? 

We  were  to  go  back  to  see  Dr.  W.  As  I  en- 
tered that  office  I  did  not  feel  like  the  same 
woman  who  had  walked  out  of  there  an  houi 
before.  I  know  my  entire  thinking  had  under 
gone  a  transformation. 

Dr.  W.  greeted  us  with  a  smile.  "Wellfeni 
what  did  you  think  of  him?" 

When  I  replied  it  was  with  deep  emotion 
"He  is  so  sweet  and  so  beautiful  and  h<tioir 
seems  like  a  happy  baby.  The  nurses  anc  « 
doctors  must  have  been  wonderful  to  him  'k 

li 


1.  A  I)  I  i:  s 


II     I)     M  I 


J      M  I 


\  I 


E  are  very  urali'fiil  to  all  of  tlioni  aiul  ol 
jrsc  you  too." 

Ill'  ri-plifd,  "How  can  anyone  help  hut 
ore  liirn,  lie  is  so  intelli^;eiit  and  Kood  ?" 
1  had  lots  of  (|ueslions  for  liiin  to  answer 
d  1  started  at  once.  "I*"irst,  doctor,  wlial 
ised  this  deformity  ?  " 
lie  looked  at  me  (|iiietly  hefore  he  an- 
ered.  "1  do  not  know  the  complete  cause, 
t  mi'dicine  does  know  such  accidet\ls  are 
)loKical.  That  is,  they  urr  caused  for  some 
yet  unknown  reason  at  tiie  moment  the 
I  and  the  sperm  uniti-.  In  my  opiinon  you 
)uld  iiavi-  anotiier  child  almost  inimfdi 
-ly." 

My  husband  and  I  looked  at  each  olliei 
liast.  Such  a  thouj^ht  had  hei'u  compli'teiy 
novi'd  from  our  Ihounhls.  Wi'  said  notii- 
;  and  he  continuid,  "'Wni  need  anotlu'r 
lid  so  that  William  will  not  Kel  too  much 
ention.  Tlu'  most  important  factor  in  his 
brin^inn  is  that  he  must  not  tx'  pami)ered 
d  spoili'd.  lie  must  ^row  up  expecting  no 
^ors  because  of  his  handicap." 

I  asked,  "Why  did  he  ^;et  so  sick?" 

He  shruK^;ed  his  shoulders.  "It  was  just  a 
din^;  i)roblem  and  the  fact  that  he  con- 
icted  this  specific  disease  and  nerm." 
Phen  we  asked,  "  What  about  those  linfjers 
has?  Are  they  of  any  use?" 
He  said,  "Lei  me  try  to  explain  lo  you 
lat  they  are.  There  are  two  main  bones  in 
arm,  the  upper  called  the  humerus.  Wil- 
tn  has  just  the  upper  part  of  the  humerus 
ne.  He  has  no  complete  shoulder  joint,  no 
iiplete  joints  in  his  finders,  no  wrist,  al- 
ju^h  he  does  have  a  small  part  of  the 
Im  with  its  normal  coverint;  of  skin.  We 
ve  X-rayed  his  neck  and  back  and  cannot 
d  anythinsi  wronj;.  Now,  to  answer  your 
estion;  1  do  not  know  if  that  appendage 

II  be  of  any  use  lo  him.  It  may  require 
•gery.  There  is  nothing  that  could  be  done 
w,  but  I  would  suggest  that  after  lie  is 
ck  to  normal  he  be  taken  to  an  orthopedic 
■geon  for  consultation.  Do  not  build  up 
)  much  hope,  as  that  appendage  may  be 
npletely  useless." 

"  How  long  will  he  have  to  stay  in  the  hos- 
ai?" 

His  answer  was  noncommittal.  "I  really 
not  know.  I  am  sure  he  would  not  be  re- 
sed  for  at  least  a  month." 
Now  I  hesitantly  asked,  "What  can  we 
1  our  daughter?  What  will  we  tell  the 
ighbors?  Everyone  thinks  that  he  is  dead." 
His  answer  was  calm  and  sincere.  "Tell 
im  the  truth.  Let  them  know  that  the 
by  was  hospitalized  at  birth,  and  you 
Dught  the  child  was  dead.  You  can  tell 
im  the  doctor  thought  the  baby  would  not 
e.  and  that  is  the  reason  for  your  hus- 
nd's  deception.  About  your  daughter— 
11,  you  will  find  that  children  accept  un- 
aal  circumstances  far  more  readily  than 
ults." 

[e  added,  "  I  am  not  going  to  try  to  mini- 
ze  the  situation.  It  will  be  rough  going 
a  long  time.  You  will  have  to  adjust  to 
;ing  people  stare  and  ask  embarrassing 
estions.  You  have  to  make  up  your  mind, 
you  take  the  child  home,  to  put  up  with 
:h  things.  I  am  sure  he  is  worth  that  small 
Tifice." 

He  stood  up  and  said,  "  I  have  to  get  back 
my  patients.  You  can  come  to  see  me  any 
ne  you  are  here  visiting  William.  I  will  try 
answer  any  questions  you  ask."  He 
etched  out  his  hand  and,  with  a  smile, 
d,  "I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude  when  you 
me,  but  I  am  fond  of  William  and  I  was 
inking  of  his  future  welfare — not  yours." 
Hy  and  I  were  both  silent  when  we 
liked  out  of  the  hospital. 

I  still  did  not  say  anything  to  Karen  or 
/  neighbors.  I  was  trying  to  gather  courage 
•  the  difficult  task. 

It  was  a  long  wait  until  the  following 
ednesday  when  I  could  see  Billy  again.  I 
;nt  to  the  hospital  alone.  As  soon  as  I  was 
owed  to  enter  I  raced  up  to  the  third- 
or  ward.  I  started  to  go  toward  the  small 
Dm  my  son  was  in.  There  was  a  tall  nurse 
duty  who  stopped  me  with  the  words, 
[ust  where  do  you  think  you  are  going?" 
I  answered,  "To  see  my  son." 


My  young  Negro  friend  Ixnt  to  whiH|xi 
into  this  nurse's  ear.  I  knew  she  wax  lellln^' 
her  who  I  was.  The  niirHC  looked  up  at  ine 
and  then  in  a  delilK-ralely  loud  voic-  hjiuI, 
"  I  don't  care  who  she  is.  She  iH  not  uttiny  lo 
enter  until  it  is  two.  If  she  could  wail  tw<» 
months  to  see  her  son,  I  am  sure  she  can 
wail  a  few  minutes  now." 

I  st(H)d  there,  feeling  miserable,  with  learn 
smarting  my  eyes  at  the  obvious  rebuke-. 

The  ck)ck  on  I  he  wall  showed  live  minuics 
after  two  before  she  lifted  her  head  and  H;nd. 
"All  right.  You  can  come  in  now." 

When  I  walked  into  ilu-  room  my  mmi  was 
lalkmg  softly  lo  himself  while  happily  kick- 
ing his  legs  into  the  air.  I  talked  to  lum  for  a 
lew  minules  while  he  stared  at  me  witJi  his 
massive  blue  eyes.  Then  he  smiled  and  I 
picked  him  up  and  held  him  in  my  arms, 
He  was  perfectly  contented,  U-ing  cuddled, 
and  showed  his  a|)preciation  by  cooing  and 
gurgling.  I  felt  so  iiapi)y,  so  at  ease.  Again  I 
fed  him  his  dish  of  banana  and  again  he 
ate  like  a  starved  youngster. 

I  wanted  to  stay  with  him  like  this  forever 
and  dreaded  the  moment  when  I  would  Ix; 
asked  to  leave.  Promptly  at  three  o'ckn-k 
old  dragon-face  came  into  the  r(K)m.  I  did 
not  want  to  anger  her  so  I  left.  (When  we 
got  lo  know  her  we  discovered  she  was  a 
wonderful  person,  exceedingly  kind  lo  our 
child.  She  became  our  closest  ally  when  we 
were  ready  to  lake  our  child  home. ) 

Within  a  few  minutes  after  I  had  returned 
home  my  mother-in-law  called  on  the  tele- 
phone. She  wanted  lo  know  how  the  baby 
had  been.  I  told  her  and  she  insisted  she 
wanted  lo  come  with  us  at  our  next  visit.  I 
refused  to  allow  her  to  and  made  some  pre- 
text. Then  she  asked  what  reason  the  doctor 
had  given  for  his  being  born  without  arms. 

I  tried  to  tell  her  as  simply  as  I  knew  how 
the  reasons  for  it.  "  No,  no,  he  is  wrong,"  she 
interrupted.  "You  saw  such  a  woman  or 
child  while  you  were  pregnant  and  that  is 
the  reason  for  his  being  the  way  he  is." 


I  tried  I..         II..  i  I..  1  ..I 
of  lu-r  HU|x-rhiiiiou>i  I*  ln  /i  I- 
"All  righi,  if  you  wanl  to  i  . 
tiling.  I  lien  iM-lieve  it  I  do  n.  iich 
u  Hlory  an  ilic  cxi  iim-  your  d<» 

I  Htarli-d  lo  ai^ui',  llieii  «1.  uiihI 
the  lio|M  lenHiiesH  of  il  |  r«-ah.  .  .  i  ,ii  we 
would  have  lo  face  when  we  brouKlii  «jur 
Mon  home  II  wdiild  not  Im-  eany  lo  eraw  llic 
Ignorance  iinplaiiied  in  ihuuIh  for  ci-nliiriiti 
and  ceniurien.  Not  only  the  elderly  hut 
young  and  intelligent  Ix-lieved  iiuch  ridicu- 
louN  IheorieH. 

With  each  vittil  lo  llie  himpilal  I  iMcanie 
more  proud  of  my  t«»n  He  wuh  nliowing  evi- 
dence of  Ihe  food  he  coiiHUliied  Ilis  hlilc 
IxKly  was  lilling  out  slowly  The  niir-M-H  let 
me  lake  compK  te  lare  of  Inn.  I  gavr  liiiii 
his  fo<Kl,  changed  his  <lia|)ent  and  took  hm 
teniiH-rature  For  a  short  hour  Iwice  a  week 
I  fell  as  if  he  wen-  at  home  in  my  care. 

One  day  as  I  came  out  of  Ihe  baby's  nnim 
at  the  en«l  of  the  visitiiv^!  hours  I  h;iw  I>r.  W. 
He  told  me,  "Mrs.  Hruckner.  William  is 
progressing  nicely.  He  weighed  just  four  and 
one  half  ixninds  at  the  crisis  of  his  illnesH 
and  he  is  now  lipping  the  scales  at  six 
ixninds.  We  are  going  lo  allow  you  lo  lake 
him  home  as  s(X)n  as  he  reaches  his  birth 
weight  (jr  lherealx)uts. 

"I  would  suggest  that  you  and  your  hus- 
band take  a  few  weeks'  vacation  tjefore  you 
lake  William  home.  You  have  lK.-en  under 
tension  and  the  change  would  be  good  for 
you." 

As  s<x)n  as  Hy  walked  into  the  hous*-  that 
evening  I  told  him  what  Dr.  W.  had  sug- 
gested. He  thought  it  a  wonderful  idea,  and 
we  started  to  make  jilans  for  our  trip.  We 
decided  to  travel  lo  Cleveland,  and  leave 
Karen  with  her  doting  grandparents  in  that 
city.  Then  we  would  lake  a  ten  days'  camp- 
ing trip. 

Before  we  left,  I  slopped  off  to  see  my 
neighbor  Florence  to  lell  her  alxjul  the  baby. 
She  was  my  closest  friend  in  the  building, 


jj^mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmMi^ 

1«|S  IS  A  DAPK-Z)oPfY  I 


THIS   IS  A 


X 


WAfcHBlRDT»/Ar 
WENT  TO  SIfEPrRY/^(;, 

to  WATCW  A  OAR/<- 

DoPfrcoroBEP 


>< 

X 

X 


s 


Of  all  the  crazy  creatures  to  watch  at  nighl  when  it  «|^ie  for  bed, 
a  Dark-Dopey  is  the  silliest.  It  cries  ami  <  rie.-i  unless  il  has  a  li^'ht  on. 
Anybody  sensible  knows  that  there  isn"l  anything:  in  the  dark  that 
isn't  there  in  the  light.  But  a  Dark-Dopey  won't  be  sensible. 

This  Dark-Dopey  has  every  light  in  ihe  r<M)m  on 
and  il  is  stilf  so  dopi^-  it  s  trying  lo  light  up  all  the 
dark  on  the  outside. 

The  Watchbird  jusi  gave  up  watching  anything 
so  foolish  and  went  to  sleep.  _ 

*Y/tREYOU^  0ARK~DOPfy"^^<'S  MONTH?'  ^ 


X 
X 


cut: 

llUI 

iJh 

and  I  II 

I  V^.r 

lui|. 

I    M       :  ... 

•wiinewluit,  a  I 

(|U(-NtloriH.  I 

pli-anant.  Imii  .  <| 

D-.r,.,.-  .. 

pri  ,  -1  lor  iIm-  reiuri. 

I  1  ■ ,  ')  her  l»ow  I  I 

iKJspital,  aiui  the  Uiby  kifl 

lluit  was  why  we  lu'wl  not  Im<' 

We  liad  decided  not  to  ni< 

atxrtit  hiH  not  tuiving  anii 

would  not  even  notice  it,  and  wh 

wnnething  that  we  ttad  litne  eri'. 

|)lain?  She  askerl  the  name  que 

anri  over  again,  in  Ihe  manner  of 

dren.  I  (Kitiently  explainer)  wliat  tiad  Itap- 

pencd  again  and  agjnn   By  the  time  tlw 

Iwelve-hour  trip  was  over,  she  lutd  forgotten 

all  alxjul  the  subject  arwl  was  m<;re  interested 

in  st!eing  grandma  and  grandjxi 

We  had  a  wonderful  rest  and  vacatirm  in 
Michigan.  Il  was  a  simple  respite  camping 
in  protected  grounds,  sleeping  in  r»ur  lent, 
Cfjoking  our  own  meals.  Tlte  sujx-rintendent 
of  the  stale  park  where  we  staywJ  had  only 
one  arm.  We  noticed  thai  he  drove  a  car, 
set  up  camp  and  did  just  alxjul  everything 
ref|uirefl  of  him. 

IIKN  we  returned  to  C  leveland,  we  stayed 
with  my  parents  for  a  few  days.  We  were 
rested  and  refreshed  and  now  ready  to  lell 
our  friends  and  family  of  rjur  child.  We  in- 
vited them  over  one  night  and  told  them  the 
simple  facts.  Our  missirjn  accomplished,  we 
packed  our  belongings  and  returned  to  New 
York  to  live  a  better  yet  more  difficult  life. 

We  called  the  hospital  the  day  after  we 
relumed.  Dr.  W.  told  us  that  we  could  take 
Billy  home  whenever  we  wanted.  We  needed 
time  to  get  everything  in  readiness,  and  de- 
cided to  make  the  big  day  just  five  days 
hence. 

Sunday  we  left  Karen  with  her  grandpar- 
ents and  visited  our  beloved  child.  When  I 
rushed  into  the  room  where  he  usually  lay 
I  was  disappointed  to  discover  thai  he  was 
no  longer  there.  I  was  worried,  but  when  I 
saw  the  look  on  the  nurses'  faces  I  realized 
that  something  was  up. 

They  laughingly  told  me  he  was  on  the 
sun  porch.  I  looked  on  the  porch  but  there 
was  not  a  crib  in  sight;  nothing  but  an  old 
wooden  doll  carriage.  I  started  to  return  to 
the  nurses'  desk.  Then  I,  too,  burst  into 
laughter.  Billy  was  lying  in  this  small  car- 
riage, his  legs  bared  to  the  sun.  and  wearing 
just  a  thin  shirt.  He  must  have  been  getting 
regular  sun  baths,  as  his  legs  were  a  golden 
brown.  He  seemed  to  enjoy  the  warm  sun 
and  laughed  when  he  saw  me.  He  looked 
wonderful.  His  face  had  lost  that  sickly  color 
and  had  filled  out  considerably.  I  cuddled 
him  tightly  in  my  arms. 

The  nurses  suggested  that  we  bring  him  in 
now  as  he  had  been  exposed  to  the  sun  long 
enough.  We  put  our  son  back  into  his  crib 
and  went  lo  see  Dr.  W. 

I  pulled  a  sheet  of  paper  out  of  my  pocket. 
I  had  been  jolting  down  questions  to  ask  the 
entire  week.  Dr.  W.  grinned  when  he  saw 
them.  "Gosh  almighty,  that  many !  All  right, 
what  is  the  first  question?" 

First  and  foremost  in  my  mind  was  how 
the  baby  had  been  progressing. 

"Mrs.  Bruckner,  he  is  four  months  old  and 
weighs  seven  and  one  half  pounds.  He  is  do- 
ing very  well,  considering  how  ill  he  was.  He 
will  catch  up  in  weight  in  no  time.  I  will  give 
you  details  you  are  to  follow  for  his  feeding.  I 
will  write  it  all  out  for  you.  Oh,  this  is  very 
important.  I  wanl  you  lo  bring  him  back  to 
the  hospital  for  his  checkups.  In  three  weeks 
you  will  bring  him  back.  If  he  should  get  sick 
or  there  should  be  an  emergency  during  the 
interim,  call  me  here.  I  am  not  expecting  any 
trouble.  I  am  just  telling  you  this  as  a  pre- 


98 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


JANE  POWELL,  co-starring  in  M-G-M's  "SMALL  TOWN  GIRL,"  Color  by  Technicolor. 


JANE  POWELL  .  .  .  Lustre-Creme  presents  one  of 

Hollywood  s  most  glamorous  stars.  Like  the  majority  of 
top  Hollywood  stars,  Miss  Powell  uses  Lustre-Creme 
Shampoo  to  care  for  her  beautiful  hair. 


The  Most  Beautiful  Hair 
in  the  World 

is  kept  at  its  loveliest . . .  with 

Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 


Yes,  Jane  Powell  uses  Lustre-Creme 
Shampoo  to  keep  her  hair  always 
alluring.  The  care  of  her  beautiful  hair 
is  vital  to  her  glamour-career. 

You,  too,  like  Jane  Powell,  will 
notice  a  glorious  difference  in  your  hair 
after  a  Lustre-Creme  shampoo.  Under 
the  spell  of  its  lanolin-blessed  lather, 
your  hair  shines,  behaves,  is  eager  to 
curl.  Hair  dulled  by  soap  abuse  .  .  . 
dusty  with  dandruff,  now  is  fragrantly 
clean.  Hair  robbed  of  its  natural  sheen 
now  glows  with  renewed  highlights. 


Lathers  lavishly  in  hardest  water  .  .  . 
needs  no  special  after-rinse. 

No  other  cream  shampoo  in  all  the 

world  is  as  popular  as  Lustre-Creme. 
For  hair  that  behaves  like  the  angels 
and  shines  like  the  stars  .  .  .  ask  for 
Lustre-Creme  Shampoo. 


The  beauty-blend 
cream  shampoo 
with  LANOLIN. 
Jars  or  tubes, 
27^  to  $2. 


Famous  Hollywood  Stars  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo  for  Glamorous  Hair 


caution.  When  are  you  taking  him  home? 
Fine— I  will  be  here  to  say  good-by  to  him. 
Good  luck  to  you."  He  shook  hands  with 
each  of  us.  "I  will  miss  that  boy;  he  is  my 
favorite  patient." 

The  next  two  days  went  much  too  quickly 
for  me  to  accomplish  all  I  had  to  do.  I  had 
made  arrangements  for  Karen  to  spend  the 
day  with  my  neighbor,  Florence,  and  had 
insisted  that  Hy's  family  refrain  from  com- 
ing immediately.  I  would  have  preferred  it  if 
they  had  not  come  at  all  that  day,  but  I 
knew  I  could  not  deter  them  from  this. 

At  the  hospital,  as  I  had  expected,  the  en- 
tire hall  was  crowded  with  interns,  nurses, 
doctors,  office  workers  and  others  who  had 
come  to  know  and  love  our  son.  Our  farewells 
lasted  over  an  hour,  with  Billy  being  held 
and  kissed.  We  shook  hands  and  said  good- 
by  to  everyone,  promising  that  we  would  let 
them  see  him  when  we  returned  for  his  exam- 
inations. 

We  were  silent  the  entire  drive  home,  each 
wonderin^  what  kind  of  reception  awaited 
us. 

The  entrance  to  our  building  is  usually 
crowded  with  children,  mothers  and  an  as- 
sortment of  doll  carriages  and  bicycles.  For- 
tunately we  happened  to  arrive  a  little  after 
noontime  when  all  were  busy  with  their 
lunches.  We  wasted  no  time  getting  into  the 
elevator,  and  as  we  closed  the  door  behind  us 
I  laughed  nervously.  Hy  said  nothing,  his 
emotions  being  a  replica  of  mine. 

I  undressed  our  son  and  left  him  in  his 
father's  arms  while  I  went  to  prepare  his 
lunch.  He  ate  his  cereal  eagerly  and  I  then 
gave  him  his  bottle.  After  the  first  fewmouth- 
fuls  he  pulled  his  head  back  suddenly.  He 
had  become  aware  of  the  fact  that  this  milk 
was  not  like  what  he  was  accustomed  to.  He 
was  a  good  baby  and  very  adaptable  and  so, 
without  protest,  he  finished  the  rest  of  the 
bottle. 

He  was  tired  and  within  a  few  minutes  I 
put  him  into  his  crib.  He  gazed  around  the 
room,  realizing  this  was  something  different. 
He  rested  his  head  against  the  new  crib 
bumpers,  sighed  contentedly  and  then  fell 
asleep. 

Hy  and  I  sat  down  to  await  the  arrival  of 
liis  family. 

My  sister-in-law,  Mary,  was  first  to  ar- 
rive. Billy  was  still  asleep  when  she  came 
and  we  sat  down  to  chat.  Then  we  heard 
Billy  talking  to  himself  and  I  went  into 
the  bedroom  to  get  him,  with  Mary  and  my 
husband  following. 

I  was  proud,  yet  scared,  as  I  lifted  him  for 
her  to  see.  She  stared  at  him.  "Why,  he  is 
adorable." 

I  felt  a  glow  of  pride  sweep  through  my 
entire  body.  Mary  wanted  to  hold  him  and 
sat  down,  cuddling  him  in  her  arms  and  talk- 
ing to  him  softly.  He  rewarded  her  with  one 
of  his  lovely  smiles. 

The  doorbell  rang,  and  it  was  my  mother- 
in-law.  She  charged  into  the  bedroom  with 
undue  haste.  She  immediately  took  him  from 
Mary  and  began  praising  his  appearance, 
then  commenting  on  his  lack  of  weight.  We 
tried  to  explain  the  cause.  Without  warning 
she  burst  into  tears.  Her  lack  of  restraint 
brought  a  burst  of  emotion  from  Mary  and 
the  two  of  them  cried  long. 

My  husband  and  1  sat  there  stonily,  wait- 
ing for  the  tears  to  stop.  Finally  Hy  said, 
"Ma,  I  am  not  saying  anything  about  your 
tears,  because  this  is  the  first  time  you  have 
seen  him.  From  now  on  there  is  to  be  abso- 
lutely no  crying  in  this  house.  We  do  not  pity 
ourselves  or  our  son  and  we  do  not  want  any- 
one else  to.  I  hope  you  will  remember  what  I 
have  told  you,  because  if  you  continue  to  cry 
every  time  you  come  to  visit  us,  we  will  not 
let  you  in  our  home." 

His  mother  stared  at  him,  almost  speech- 
less. Then  bitterly  she  asked,  "How  can  I 
help  but  cry?  Such  a  little  one  with  such 
troubles." 

My  husband  answered,  "My  wife  and  I 
have  done  lots  of  crying  these  past  four 
months  when  no  one  was  even  aware  of  what 
was  going  on.  Now  that  we  have  him  home, 
we  are  proud  and  happy  and  we  have  no 
time  for  tears.  We  will  be  strong  and  happy 
and  we  will  make  his  life  so  too." 


January,  19S3 

Neither  Hy  nor  myself  wanted  to  hurt  his 
mother's  feelings  but,  knowing  the  type  of 
person  she  was  we  knew  we  would  have  to 
be  firm.  We  had  assumed  an  air  of  serenity; 
we  knew  we  must  not  let  anyone  tear  it  down, 

When  they  left  I  went  to  bring  up  Karen.i 
She  was  excited  about  her  new  brother.  I 
lifted  him  in  my  arms  and  sat  on  the  couch 
so  that  she  could  see  him.  Her  first  comment 
was  that  he  was  very  small,  almost  like  her 
doll.  She  watched  him  for  a  long  time.  Then 
very  simply  she  asked,  "Mommy,  where  are^ 
his  hands?" 

My  heart  was  beating  with  emotion  as  f 
said,  "He  does  not  have  any  hands,  Karen.  ' 

My  daughter  was  surprised  and  lifted  hei 
own  arms  high  in  the  air  and  looked  at  them 
closely.  "But,  mommy,  I  have  arms  and 
why  doesn't  brother?  " 

My  husband  could  see  how  white  I  had 
become  and  he  told  her  the  simple  truth  : 
"Karen,  honey,  you,  mommy,  daddy  and 
everyone  we  know  has  arms  and  hands  ; 
But  brother  does  not.  He  is  different.  That  isi 
the  way  he  was  born.  I  mean  that  is  the  way 
he  came  out  of  mommy's  tummy.  God  forgot  ! 
to  give  him  hands  and  we  must  help  him  al! 
we  can." 

I  could  see  the  earnest  expression  on  hei 
face.  It  was  difficult  for  a  three-year-old  tc'ij 
understand  so  many  words.  Then  she  spoke 
again.  "But  if  God  forgot  to  give  him  hands, 
how  will  he  do  things?  How  will  he  eat  and 
play?" 


IP- 

Hy 

jile 
S 
ivee 
I  sin 
My 
sa 

jvl 

Slid 
W 

10 

;ve 

.to 


1  iff 


This  time  I  took  up  where  my  husband' 
left  off.  "  Well,  darling,  you  and  daddy  and  f 
and  everyone  will  have  to  help  brother  so  he 
will  learn  to  play  too.  Right  now  he  is  still  a 
tiny  baby  and  he  can't  do  anything  but  cry 
and  eat  and  sleep.  Pretty  soon  he  will  learn' 
how  to  play,  and  you  will  be  the  big  sister 
and  show  him  how." 

"Will  he  get  hands?  Will  he  grow  them?", 
she  wanted  to  know. 

I  had  to  tell  her  the  truth.  "  I  do  not  thinkf!' 
so."  Then  I  deliberately  changed  the  subject, 
"  Would  you  like  to  hold  your  little  brother?". 

She  was  thrilled  and  forgot  about  his  be- 
ing different  in  her  excitement  of  holding 
him.  Soon  after  that  I  undressed  her  and  got 
her  ready  for  bed. 

We  put  them  both  to  sleep  at  the  same 
time  and  then  closed  the  door  wearily.  It  had' 
been  a  difficult  day.  I  was  glad  it  was  at  an 
end  and  I  was  wondering  what  the  morning 
would  bring  and  how  I  would  handle  the 
problems  it  would  produce. 


It 

■)  m 
T 

:  oil 


1 


The  day  passed  without  incident.  We  re-' 
ceived  a  few  phone  calls  and  made  them 
brief.  Karen  saw  me  diaper  Billy  and  noticed''! 
that  he  was  organically  different  from  her. 
Wanted  to  know  why  she  was  not  like  him. 
We  tried  to  explain  the  differences  in  sex  to'fj' 
her.  I  think  she  took  far  more  interest  in  his. 
sexual  difference  than  she  did  in  the  fact  that 
he  did  not  have  arms.  We  tried  to  give  her 
lots  of  attention.  We  let  her  hold  her  brother 
and  wanted  her  to  feel  as  though  Billy  be-', 
longed  to  her  too.  Everything  was  simple 
and  easy  that  day. 

When  Hy  and  I  went  to  bed  that  night 
neither  of  us  could  sleep.  About  midnight 
Billy  awoke.  Hy  and  I  both  rushed  for  him  at 
the  same  time.  He  was  sleepy  but  hungry. 
After  he  had  finished  his  bottle  of  milk  he 
pulled  at  his  sleeve  and  was  soon  fast  asleep  i 
in  my  arms.  I  held  him  for  a  long  time.  When  1"' 
I  finally  put  him  into  his  crib  he  did  not 
awaken.  I  crept  into  bed  and  slept  the  rest  of 
the  night. 

Billy  awoke,  hungry,  at  six  o'clock  on 
Sunday  morning.  After  I  had  given  him  a 
bottle  I  put  him  back  to  sleep  and  then  |  ^ 
crawled  into  bed  myself.  I  awoke  with  a 
start  and  when  I  looked  at  the  clock  it  was 
after  nine.  I  raced  for  the  bedroom  with  Hy 
following.  Karen  was  still  asleep.  Billy  was 
lying,  staring  interestedly  around  him,  and  * '[ 
talking  to  himself.  He  smiled  and  we  picked 
him  up  and  carried  him  into  our  room.  We 
took  advantage  of  the  opportunity  to  cuddle 
and  play  with  him  while  Karen  was  not 
around.  We  had  made  a  promise  to  ourselves 
that  we  would  not  give  him  too  much  atten- 
tion when  she  was  there  to  see  it.  We  did 
not  want  her  to  be  jealous  of  her  brother. 


n    '»    \l  I 


I'll 


Hilly  followed  llial  same  proci'duri'  for  the 
•xt  six  months.  Kach  morning  lie  would  lie 
lietly,  not  crying,  until  we  came  lo^ive  him 
s  lx)ttlo.  He  was  so  K"od.  so  patient  that 
2  could  not  help  adoring  and  worshiping 
m. 

Ily  cared  for  the  children  that  moniinu 
liile  I  i)repared  the  formula.  I  knew  that  we 
:)uld  be  sure  to  have  visitors  and  wanted  to 
ive  every  I  hiiiK  in  readiness  so  theday  would 

>  smoolhly. 

My  lirsl  caller  was  Florence.  Slu^  made  a 
ss  about  liilly,  and  had  brought  a  ^itl  for 
m,  a  trinket  for  Karen  too.  Siie  did  not 
ay  loiiK.  I  asked  what  the  neighbors  had 
id  when  she  told  lliem  about  tiii'  baliy.  She 
ruut.;ed  her  shoulders.  "They  were  shocked, 
course,  ;uid  felt  sorry  for  you.  I  do  not  be- 
ve  many  will  come  to  see  you  until  you 
ke  Hilly  out."  4 
About  an  hour  after  this  the  doorbell  ran^ 
ain.  When  I  answered  it,  I  saw  one  of  my 
inhbors  I  knt'w  very  casually.  She  wanted 
see  the  baby  and  remarked  over  and  over 
iw  cute  and  alert-looking  he  was.  Her  at- 
ude  put  me  completely  at  ease,  and  I  was 
id  thai  she  had  come. 
My  moliier-  and  father-in-law  arrived 
th  my  two  sisters-in-law  who  had  as  yet 
tseen  the  baby.  I  wasinwardly  praying  my 
jther-in-law  would  not  get  teary.  She  did! 
did  not  say  a  word  and  let  my  husband 
primand  her. 

She  looked  bewildered  when  my  husband 
iisted  that  she  stop  her  crying.  Her  dra- 
itic  emotions  had  always  been  part  of  her 
rsonality.  Suddenly  she  could  not  under- 
md  her  own  son  and  his  drastic  change  in 
rsonality.  Yes,  my  husband  had  ctianged. 
;  had  always  been  afraid  of  insecurity,  tor- 
red  by  family  illnesses,  frightened  by  trivial 
:idents.  Slowly  he  was  building  up  conh- 
nce  in  his  ability  to  handle  the  present  and 
c  future  too. 

When  they  finally  left  I  turned  to  my  hus- 
nd  with  shining  and  proud  eyes.  He  had 
t  his  foot  firmly  down  and  the  future 
luld  be  all  the  better  for  it. 
That  evening  Billy  slept  from  his  supper 
ttle  at  seven  o'clock  until  eleven  and  then 
ht  through  until  we  awoke  at  seven  the 
xt  day. 

As  soon  as  I  arose  from  the  bed  I  gave  an 
dible  sigh.  Hy  heard  it  and  understood.  He 
d,  "Leona,  you  are  dreading  having  to  take 
lly  out  and  were  secretly  hoping  it  would 
n  so  you  would  not  have  to.  You  cannot 
stpone  this  day  forever.  Do  it  today  and 
;  rest  will  come  easier." 
My  husband  had  guessed  my  thoughts 
•rectly.  I  was  dreading  this  day  and  what 
night  reveal.  He  was  right,  though;  it  had 
be  done. 

[  rushed  through  the  duties  of  the  morn- 
;.  We  had  an  early  lunch  and  while  Billy 
pped  I  dressed  Karen  and  myself. 
When  Billy  awoke  I  could  not  decide 
lat  to  have  him  wear;  what  would  detract 
m  the  obvious  empty  sleeves.  I  dressed 
d  undressed  the  child  in  three  separate 
tfits  before  I  gave  up  the  task  as  hopeless. 
,ey  all  knew  he  did  not  have  arms,  so 
y  try  to  conceal  the  fact?  I  decided  on 
)retty  suit.  I  rolled  up  the  sleeve  of  the 
ht  arm  and  it  allowed  his  fingers  to  be 
e  and  revealed.  I  turned  him  on  his  back 
d  tucked  the  empty  left  sleeve  under  his 
:k.  I  arranged  and  rearranged  the  covers 
d  the  bows  of  the  new  carriage.  I  wanted 
srything  to  be  just  right. 

;ouLD  not  postpone  my  going  any  longer, 
let  no  one  in  the  hall,  no  one  near  the  ele- 
tor.  I  pushed  the  carriage  up  the  ramp  out 
the  basement  into  the  street,  lifted  my 
id  high  and  forced  myself  to  walk  the  short 
tance  into  the  park. 

[t  was  a  lovely  warm  day  and  the  park 
s  crowded.  I  sighted  an  empty  spot  on  a 
ich  and  called  Karen's  attention  to  it.  One 
the  less  gossipy  women  I  knew  was  sitting 
?re.  As  I  sat  down  I  said  hello  to  her.  She 
5wered  and  then  turned  her  attention 
ay  from  me.  My  mouth  was  dry  but  I 
ced  myself  to  say  the  words  I  had  been 
learsing,  "It  sure  is  a  hot  day,  isn't  it?  I 
nder  if  I  have  dressed  the  baby  too 
rmly." 


She  hadnoallernalivebut  to  ulaiice  down 
into  the  carnage.  She  stared  at  my  darling- 
lor  a  long,  almost  unb<'lieving  niomcnl.  Tlien 
she  stammc.ed.  "Why,  he  in  culc!"  She 
slopped  short  and  1  knew  what  Hhc  wan 
lli'ukmg.  She  had  Ix-en  exix-clinj.-  to  set-  a 
beak  and  instead  saw  a  cute  baby  face.  Then 
she  said  in  a  deliberately  loud  voice,  "The 
baby  is  adorable.  He  is  so  sweet." 

As  tliough  this  were  a  ijrearranged  signal 
the  other  women  silting  close  by  kxiked  iri 
the  direction  of  the  baby.  Then  they  came 
forward  to  congraliilale  me.  One  of  the 
women  told  me  ihal  Hilly  was  dressed  Ux) 
warmly  and  I  removed  Ins  sweater.  Another 
suggested  timidly  that  I  ought  to  remove  hr, 
bootees  and  socks.  I  did  that,  {tn,.  while  the 
women slaredat  hisix.Tfect,  althoughskinny, 
legs  and  toes.  I  was  self-conscious  alxnit  Ins 
underweight  and  commented  on  il.  When 
some  of  my  audience  l(K)ked  |)uzzled  I  went 
into  details  al>out  his  illness.  Kveryone  was 
symi)athetic  and  kind. 

The  next  day  I  t(M)k  the  children  out  into 
the  street  again.  This  time  I  was  not  as 
frightened  as  before.  Adiiltsdid  not  ask  c|ue.s- 
tions,  but  their  more  innocent  offsi)ring  did. 
The  mothers  always  tried  to  shush  their  chil- 
dren away  from  me.  It  was  always  obvious 
and  I  knew  they  tried  to  keep  them  from 
hurting  me.  I  did  not  feel  badly.  I  knew  that 
children  were  only  curious  and  il  was  nat  ural 
for  them  to  want  to  know  these  answers.  I 
just  was  not  prepared  yet  to  handle  the  situ- 
ation. I  knew  that  with  each  passing  day  I 
would  become  more  adjusted. 

Tiii'Si-:  were  dillicult  times  for  my  husband 
loo.  It  look  him  longer  toadjusl  to  the  situa- 
tion. At  the  beginning  he  declined  invitations 
to  take  Hilly  out.  He  did  not  want  to  be 
alone  with  the  child.  He  found  many  excuses 
for  himself,  while  the  truth  was  his  shame. 
We  were  never  ashamed  of  our  son,  but  the 
situation  itself.  My  husband  would  cover  the 
child  on  the  pretext  that  he  might  be  cold, 
and  I  never  disputed  him.  He  was  not  as  pre- 
pared for  stares  and  questions  as  I  was.  One 
day  when  I  was  wheeling  Hilly  in  the  park  I 
spotted  some  people  I  knew.  As  soon  as  I 
passed  they  started  talking  about  us.  Hy  was 
walking  behind  me  with  Karen,  but  they  did 
not  see  him.  He  told  me  what  they  said  later. 
"Do  you  ever  get  accustomed  to  being  stared 
at  as  though  you  are  a  freak?  "  he  asked  me. 
I  looked  at  his  angui.shed  face,  and  told  him 
he  would  get  accustomed  to  the  situation  in 
time. 

There  were  also  crude,  vile,  thoughtless 
men— those  unfortunate  few  who  laughed  at 
and  ribbed  my  embarrassed  husband.  One  of 
these  men  was  quite  sincere  when  he  asked 
my  husband  how  such  an  apparently  healthy 
couple  as  ourselves  could  have  produced  such 
a  monstrosity.  He  slunk  closer  to  my  hus- 
band and  lowered  his  voice  confidentially  as 
he  asked,  "Tell  me,  Hy,  do  you  have  syphilis, 
or  something  like  that  ? "  Another  man  called 
Hyover  to  the  side  and  said,  "I  just  heard 
about  your  baby.  I  am  a  friend  of  yours,  and 
that  is  why  I  am  telling  you  this.  You  ought 
to  get  the  circus  to  take  him.  You  would  have 
him  off  your  hands,  and  would  even  get  paid 
for  it."  He  looked  surprised  when  my  en- 
raged husband  doubled  his  fists  at  him. 

People  do  not  try  to  be  deliberately  cruel. 
I  know  that.  But  I  sometimes  wonder  if  they 
know  how  much  damage  they  can  cause  in 
their  innocence.  Many  of  my  friends  were 
puzzled,  having  heard  that  I  had  lost  my 
baby.  They  asked  me  disconcerting  questions 
which  I  stammered  to  reply.  They  could  see 
by  my  attitude  that  something  was  surely 
wrong.  Yet  they  persisted,  never  dreaming  of 
the  truth.  Sometimes  I  was  able  to  get  aw^ay 
before  their  suspicions  were  confirmed.  Other 
times  I  had  to  hear  their  embarrassed  pleas 
for  forgiveness. 

Then  there  were  those  others  who  had 
heard  the  truth,  but  who  were  curious  and 
unashamed  to  question.  I  always  fought  to 
get  away  from  their  seeming  happiness  at  my 
horror.  They  held  on  to  me,  demanding  ex- 
planations that  I  could  never  give.  I  won- 
dered how  people  could  be  that  thoughtless 
to  ask  and  pry  for  such  morbid  details. 

There  were  many  varying  forms  of  such 
cruelty.  I  would  see  women  I  knew  approach- 


inn  di  htx  raiely  ctimh  the  Hlret  t  to  av«»id  tw. 
SoiiKtmu-H  I  wa»  lliankful  ((.r  thin;  otliir 
liriu-H  I  n-m  niid  it  ii  rnbly  I  did  not  want  to 
Ix-  avf>ided  as  if  I  had  tin-  plague.  I  wanle<l 
pt-oplc  to  accept  the  irutli,  and  then  Ix- 
friendly  re>;ardleHit  I  wanted  Iht-hi-  |x-oplf  to 
act  according  in  natural  innlmci  There 
would  have  Ix-en  nothing  wrong  wi'lr  ifi.  it 
looking  at  hiiii,  niakiiig  a  (rieiidly  ■ 
and  Ixing  tactful  during  all  thm  i  . 
were  the  kind  of  n  cepiioiit  !  ached  loi. 

There  wi  re  individual  incideniH  thai  were 
amumng  after  rme  had  lime  to  Hunk  alx.)ul 
Ihein.  One  day  on  the  avenue.  I  was  con- 
fronted by  an  i  lderly  and  ciinouH  woman 
who,  after  hIio  realized  my  Hon  wan  arnileHs, 
still  would  noi  ^',o  away  She  asked  me  if  he 
was  Ixirn  like  that,  and  her  wijrdn  H|xjken  in 
broken  Knglisli  were  meant  to  Ix-  kind.  She 
sh(K>k  her  head,  then  said,  "Vou  stared  at  a 
chilfl  like  that;  that  is  the  reation  he  ih  m>." 
I  did  not  try  lo  change  her  thinking. 

Then  there  was  the  stranger  wh(j,  afler 
realizing  what  was  wrong  with  Hilly,  stared 
at  me  minutely,  taking  in  every  detail  of  my 


ADVICE  TO  HUSBANDS 

Pralte  only  fho  woman  who  wRlght 
more  than  your  wife  and  It  older  than 
her  huiband.  RICHARD  CARLE 

Porlroil  of  th<.  Arliit  »  Children 
(Lothrop,  L«»«  &  Sh^-pord  Co.,  Inc.) 

You  muftn't  worship  a  wlfa,  that's 
Idolatry.  You  mustn't  serve  a  wife, 
there's  no  slavery  so  degrading.  Vou 
must  moke  your  wife  happy  by  never 
letting  her  forget  that  she's  married 


a  fine  man. 


EDWARD  CHARLES 

Builnrn  of  l\fr 


When  your  wife  looks  at  a  wreck  of  a 
farmhouse  she  says,  "I  could  do  a 
whole  lot  to  that."  That's  probably 
what  she  said  to  herself  when  she 
first  looked  at  you. 

WILLIAM  FEATHER 

The  Seme  of  Thingi 

The  average  woman  Is  wiser  than  the 
average  man  in  the  same  sense  in 
which  a  cat  is  wiser  than  a  dog. 

CANDIDUS 

Marriage  Mode  MorveMous 
(Hutchinson  &  Co. I 

The  wise  husband  kisses  his  wife, 
then,  as  though  that  was  one  of  the 
things  he  married  her  for. 

ROBIN  WISE 


face  and  body.  She  was  so  obvious  that  I 
could  not  help  being  cruel  in  return.  I  said, 
"No,  lady,  there  is  nothing  wrong  with  me, 
and  nothing  wrong  with  my  husband  either. 
We  are  both  healthy,  good-looking,  normal 
people."  I  walked  away  before  she  could 
answer. 

We  went  to  the  beach  and  picnics  that  first 
summer.  We  would  go  to  some  secluded  area 
and  remove  Billy's  clothing  to  expose  his 
body  to  the  sun  and  air.  He  loved  this,  and 
would  kick  delightedly  with  joy. 

One  lime  a  stranger  passed  and  stared  at 
him  sleeping  on  the  grass.  He  had  walked 
away,  when  he  realized  the  child  was  arm- 
less. He  returned  and  asked  my  husband, 
who  was  w'atching  Billy,  "  I  never  saw  an 
armless  child  before  this.  You  don't  mind 
if  I  stare,  do  you?"  There  were  numerous 
incidents  like  this.  They  hurt  at  the  time, 
but  we  learned  after  a  while  not  to  let  our- 
selves get  upset  by  them. 

Each  day  that  passed  was  just  a  little 
easier  than  the  day  preceding.  We  learned  by 
experience  to  cope  with  just  about  any  situa- 
tion that  arose.  We  knew  people  were  saying, 
"  Poor  Leona  and  Hy,  what  can  they  do?  It  is 
a  terrible  situation.  They  are  taking  it  re- 
markably well,  though."  None  of  these  peo- 
ple even  suspected  the  true  circumstances 
surrounding  his  birth.  They  did  not  know 
how  we  had  rejected  him  and  now  loved  him 
more  than  our  very  life.  I  wanted  to  shout 
from  the  rooftops  our  true  feelings.  He  had 
been  deprived  of  arms,  but  God  had  com- 


99 

|x-iiiuiied  in  oilurr  ways  lo  make  up  Uh  ihai 

Un».  \\i  ■.■■  ,.<  .<  . 

pUr  wlv< 

mature, 

tolerance. 

My  I. 
after  11 
Arthur 

ThiH  wa  ,         ,.  , :  .i] 

had  Ix-en  to  mx-  itial  l>leak  day  lollowiiiK  our 

vm'^  birih 
I 

mi- 

VOI' 

nr. 

nuisHivc  luiiid  and  . 

steel.  My  first  and 

man   was  om-  of  unusuall) 

mrength  of  fxjth  mind  and  lxxl>  . 

were  friendly  and  inU-lliKcnt,  and  mei  iiiuie 

with  deep  sincerity. 

I  le  hafi  lolfl  me  hr>w  happy  he  v. 
me.  Ills  next  wrjrds  were.  ".Novi 
that  young  man  of  yours."  II 
any  aKHistance  and  wheehfj  : 
bc-tlrrxmi. 

I  lifted  our  ion  from  his  crib,  and  r>x-tf»r 
Abrams<jn  held  the  baby,  lalt  r 
with  him  lie  s.-iid.  "He  is  .i  i 
very  inielhgent-apixairing  child.  So  a  pica-*; 
lei  me  set  his  Ixxly." 

I  PLACED  Billy  on  the  bathinel  and  took  ofT 
his  clothes.  I>xior  Abramsmi  touched  his 
chest,  back  and  arms  with  expert,  knowing 
lingers.  When  he  was  finished  I  put  Hilly 
back  into  the  crib  and  lhen  he  talked  to  us. 
He  said,  "You  do  not  have  to  worry  abrjut 
that  young  man.  He  will  be  all  right.  TTiere  is 
not  much  that  can  be  done  for  him  ortho- 
pedically  now.  Ixt  him  alone  lo  dcvelrjp  hia 
own  potentialities.  Of  course  his  body  must 
be  kepi  flexible.  There  can  be  no  harm  in  your 
doing  simple  exercises  with  him  daily.  His 
neck,  back  and  chc-sl  must  be  strengthened  lo 
lake  the  place  of  his  missing  parts.  I  will  show 
you  what  you  can  do.  That  is  how  we  train 
disabled  men  al  the  hospital:  by  building  up 
and  subslituLing  muscles  they  rarely  used  be- 
fore to  help  them  become  more  self-sufficient. 

"You  are  indeed  fortunate  that  so  much 
progress  has  been  madfe  in  the  field  of 
prosthesis.  The  Government  is  doing  won- 
derful things  for  its  veterans.  All  that  it  has 
developed  is,  naturally,  open  to  the  public." 
He  paused.  "Not  far  from  New  York  is  the 
Kessler  Institute  for  Rehabilitation.  Dr. 
Henry  Kessler  does  remarkable  things  and 
one  of  his  best  known  types  of  work  is  in  the 
field  of  cineplaslic  prosthesis.  I  will  try  to  ex- 
plain briefly  what  this  process  is.  First,  a 
minor  operation  is  performed  to  prepare  the 
amputee  for  the  application  of  an  artificial 
arm.  Doctor  Kessler  and  his  slafT  decide 
which  muscles  can  be  utilized  and  they  are 
canalized  and  attached  to  a  system  of  levers 
so  that  the  biceps  and  triceps  in  the  upper 
arm  can  activate  the  artifical  arm  and  hand. 
It  has  many  advantages  over  the  old  meth- 
ods. It  is  simpler,  easier  to  control  and  does 
away  with  the  use  of  straps  and  harnesses. 

"  It  is  my  opinion  that  your  son  should  be 
seen  by  Doctor  Kessler  even  though  he  can 
do  nothing  for  him  at  present.  He  would  give 
you  lots  of  practical  advice.  I  know  him  well 
and  would  be  glad  to  wTite  to  him  for  you." 

We  nodded  our  heads  simultaneously  and  I 
spoke  up.  "  I  think  it  is  a  very  good  idea." 

He  answered,  "  I  will  send  a  letter  to  him  at 
once.  Do  you  have  X  rays  of  the  child?  No? 
Well,  it  will  be  necessary  to  enclose  them 
with  a  letter.  I  suggest  that  you  have  a  set 
taken  as  soon  as  possible." 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  my  husband 
clasped  it.  "Thank  you  so  very  much  for  the 
kindness  you  have  shown.  We  shall  be  for- 
ever grateful." 

He  waved  his  hand  and  said,  "My  repay- 
ment shall  be  in  one  day  seeing  that  son  of 
yours  grow  into  a  talented  young  man.  That 
is  all  the  pajTnent  I  shall  ever  want." 

He  was  out  in  the  hall  and  by  the  elevator 
before  I  knew  it.  My  husband  went  to  assist 
him  in  getting  into  his  car.  We  were  strangers, 
yet  he  had  given  of  his  time,  his  kindness,  his 
energj'.  I  felt  humble,  grateful  and  proud 
that  such  a  person  was  our  friend. 


100 


L   A    D    I    F    S  '       II    O    M    F.  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


About  three  weeks  after  this  I  received  a 
phone  call  from  the  secretary  of  Dr.  Arthur 
Abramson.  She  told  me  that  we  had  an  ap- 
pointment at  the  institute  the  following 
month.  He  would  take  us  himself. 

As  we  came  to  the  turn  in  the  road  we  saw 
the  sign,  "The  Kessler  Institute  for  Re- 
habilitation, Pleasant  Valley  Way,  West 
Orange,  New  Jersey."  I  could  see  a  lovely 
modern  building  which  resembled  a  private 
home. 

We  entered  by  the  wide  doors  that  had 
been  planned  for  wheel-chair  use,  and  were  in 
a  large,  friendly  wailing  room.  The  recep- 
tionist asked  our  names  and  as  soon  as  she 
heard  Doctor  Abramson  tell  who  he  was  she 
beckoned  to  us.  Doctor  Kessler  wanted  to  see 
him  at  once,  but  we  were  to  wait. 

There  were  a  number  of  comfortable  chairs 
in  the  room  and  about  ten  apparently  dis- 
abled persons  sitting  there.  Patients  from  all 
walks  of  life  are  treated  here.  Not  only  ampu- 
tees but  paraplegics,  hemiplegics,  postpolios, 
neuromuscular  diseases  and  orthopedic  de- 
formities. Dr.  Henry  Kessler,  a  top  ortho- 
pedic surgeon  and  the  Navy  Department's 
authority  on  amputation,  founded  this  clinic, 
a  voluntary  nonprofit  organization.  Patients 
treated  here  must  be  referred  by  doctors. 

A  nurse  approached  and  told  us  Doctor 
Kessler  was  waiting  to  see  us.  We  entered  the 
examining  room  and  found  Doctor  Abramson 
in  conversation  with  a  middle-aged  man  we 
properly  assumed  was  Doctor  Kessler.  Billy, 
who  was  now  wide-awake,  was  played  with 
and  talked  to.  Doctor  Kessler  confirmed  the 
statements  made  by  Doctor  Abramson  that 
Billy  could  not  have  prosthesis  done  until  he 
was  at  least  five  or  six  years  old.  He  suggested 
that  we  return  in  a  year  for  a  checkup. 

Hy  spoke  up.  "  I  want  you  to  know  that  we 
were  very  much  upset  when  our  son  was 
born,  but  now  we  are  adjusted  to  our  prob- 
lem and  intend  to  raise  him  as  nearly  like  a 
normal  child  as  possible." 

Doctor  Kessler  looked  pleased.  "I  am 
happy  to  hear  you  say  that.  The  attitude  of 
the  parents  is  almost  as  important  as  the 
handicap  in  determining  the  cure." 

We  said  our  good-bys  and  got  into  our  car. 
We  did  not  talk  much  during  the  drive  home, 
each  busy  with  thoughts  of  what  we  had  been 
told. 

About  this  time  my  husband  started  the 
series  of  exercises  for  Billy.  Every  morning 
and  night  he  would  spend  half  an  hour  pa- 
tiently exercising  Billy's  body. 

He  always  conducted  these  periods  when 
Billy  was  lying  on  a  firm  surface,  such  as  his 
hard  mattress  or  the  table.  He  brought  each 
leg  up  from  the  surface  until  it  was  straight  in 
the  air.  He  did  it  with  one  foot  at  a  time. 
Next  he  flexed  one  leg  and  brought  it  back 
until  the  knee  touched  his  stomach.  Gradu- 
ally this  leg  exercise  was  made  more  difficult 
and  Billy  was  able  to  bring  both  legs  to  the 
back  of  his  head. 

Billy  had  still  made  no  attempt  to  relax  his 
tightly  clenched  fingers.  When  we  tried  to 
have  him  hold  something  he  would  cry  out  in 
anger.  So  we  discontinued  trying  to  help  him 
become  aware  of  the  use  of  his  fingers. 

He  was  now  six  months  old,  at  the  age 
most  babies  try  to  sit  up.  Hy  would  help 
Billy  to  arise  by  placing  one  hand  firmly 
against  his  back  while  his  other  hand  held 
both  feet  tightly  against  the  table.  Slowly, 
day  by  day,  he  made  progress  until  Hy  was 
able  to  release  his  pressure  on  Billy's  back. 

As  these  exercises  increased  in  difficulty  we 
could  see  hdw  the  stomach  and  neck  muscles 
were  developing.  At  seven  months  Billy  was 
sitting  with  support  and  by  eight  months  he 
was  sitting  unaided  in  his  high  chair. 

I  was  now  keeping  him  in  the  play  pen.  I 
had  a  cradle  gym  strung  up  across  it  and  he 
would  lie  on  his  back,  kicking  away  at  it.  I 
added  more  objects :  bells,  rattle  and  squeaky 
toys.  He  would  delight  in  kicking  them.  He 
was  able  to  sit  himself  up  from  the  floor  al- 
most without  assistance. 

He  was  a  wonderful  baby,  so  happy  and 
contented.  He  never  whimpered  or  cried  or 
demanded  attention  unless  something  was 
bothering  him.  Even  my  husband  had  lost  all 


his  first  fear  of  seeing  and  meeting  people.  He 
was  proud  when  they  stared  at  Billy  with  ad- 
miring eyes.  He  was  a  child  we  could  well  be 
proud  of. 

Each  night  when  Hy  came  home  he  would 
ask  if  Billy  had  made  any  attempt  to  use  his 
fingers.  I  would  shake  my  head.  Our  son  kept 
his  fingers  in  that  same  immovable  position, 
not  trying  to  separate  or  move  them.  I  began 
to  dread  that  question  each  night.  Even 
Karen  realized  how  much  we  ached  for  such  a 
miracle.  She  used  to  put  Billy's  little  baby 
spoon  on  top  of  the  high-chair  tray  and  coax 
him  to  play  with  it.  "See,  brother,  sister 
holds  a  spoon.  You  do  it  too."  She  could  not 
understand  why  he  did  not  use  his  little 
fingers. 

"Then  one  day  a  miracle  really  happened. 
It  was  a  lovely  autumn  afternoon  and  I  was 
rushing  with  lunch  so  I  could  take  the  chil- 
dren to  the  playground.  I  had  already  fed 
Billy  and  was  helping  my  daughter  feed  her- 
self so  that  we  could  get  out  sooner.  Billy  did 
not  want  to  sit  in  the  high  chair  and  was 
cross.  Karen  had  given  him  his  spoon  to  play 
with.  She  tried  to  insert  it  between  his  fingers 
and  he  cried  out  in  anger.  I  reproached  her 
and  tried  to  explain  again  that  brother  did 
not  know  how  to  hold  anything  yet. 

I  brought  out  a  cracker  and  was  letting  him 
take  bites  out  of  it  just  to  keep  him  quiet.  I 
would  hold  it  near  his  mouth  and  he  would 
take  a  bite  apd  then  I  would  put  it  down  un- 
til he  was  ready  for  the  next  mouthful.  I 
heard  him  cry  to  get  my  attention  and  I 
picked  it  up  and,  without  looking,  held  it  up 
to  his  mouth.  It  was  too  far  for  him  to  reach, 
so  he  pulled  himself  forward  and  snapped  a 
bite  at  it.  Karen  thought  it  was  funny  and 
asked  him  to  do  it  again. 

I  put  the  cracker  down  on  the  high  chair 
and  turned  my  attention  to  my  daughter's 
still-unfinished  plate.  Suddenly  I  heard 
Karen's  voice,  excited  and  eager,  "Look, 
mommy !  Billy  is  trying  to  pick  up  the 
cracker  with  his  little  fingers." 

It  was  true !  My  son  was  moving  his  hand 
along  the  top  of  the  high  chair  and  near  the 
cracker,  hoping  to  lift  it.  I  tried  to  keep  my 
voice  calm.  "Not  like  that,  Billy.  Here,  let 
mommy  put  it  between  your  fingers  for  you." 

My  fingers  were  trembling  as  I  gently 
spread  his  first  two  fingers  enough  to  insert 
the  cracker.  He  held  it  stiffly,  not  knowing 
what  to  do.  I  carefully  brought  his  fingers  as 
close  to  his  mouth  as  I  was  able  and  he  took  a 
bite  gingerly.  After  he  had  chewed  that  piece 
he  smiled  and  looked  down  at  the  cracker, 
still  held  between  those  immovable  fingers. 


Foreman's  house  in  the  shade  of  a 
tree. 

Owns  a  shack  and  a  pretty 

daughter, 
Richest  man  in  the  whole 

country — 
Miles  of  view  and  a  tank  of  water. 

Hello,  Mr.  Foreman,  hello,  Miss 

Daughter; 
Just  stopping  by  for  a  glass  of 

water. 

Felt  thrown  away  like  an  old  milk 
bottle 

Down  on  the  cinders  by  the 

railroad  track. 
Walking  papers  in  my  pocket, 
Sun  shining  down  like  a  slap  on 

the  back. 

Walking  papers?  Why,  what  do 

you  mean? 
Had  a  good  job  wherever  I  been. 


Again  I  lifted  his  arm  and  let  him  take  a 
bite.  His  fingers  were  still  too  short  to  reach 
to  his  mouth.  He  could  feed  himself  only  if  he 
was  holding  something  long  enough  to  sup- 
plement the  length  of  his  fingers.  The  cracker 
was  too  small  now,  so  I  substituted  a  fresh 
one.  Each  time  he  would  take  a  bite  I  would 
take  his  hand  away  and  return  it  against  the 
side  of  his  body. 

The  next  minute  he  had  swallowed  the 
cracker  and  this  time  he  attempted  to  get  his 
fingers  to  his  mouth  unaided.  He  was  not 
holding  the  cracker  tight  enough  and  it 
slipped  from  his  fingers.  He  let  me  know  how 
disappointed  he  was  and  I  retrieved  it  and 
put  it  more  tightly  between  those  fingers. 

I  thought  no  more  of  going  out  that  after- 
noon. For  the  next  half  hour  I  sat  there  giv- 
ing him  crackers;  and  then,  when  he  tired  of 
eating,  I  used  his  toys.  It  was  a  new  game 
afid  he  was  delighted  with  it.  I  showed  him 
how  to  shake  his  arm  and  the  rattle  would 
jingle.  He  laughed  and  tried  to  do  it  himself. 

When  I  heard  my  husband's  key  in  the 
lock  I  rushed  to  meet  him.  There  were  tears 
in  my  eyes  as  I  whispered,  "Oh,  darling,  at 
last  Billy  is  using  his  fingers." 

My  husband  rushed  into  the  kitchen  where 
Billy  was  eating  his  supper.  I  tried  to  get  him 
to  perform,  but  to  no  avail.  He  just  would  not 
co-operate.  A  few  minutes  later  Karen  went 
to  speak  to  Billy.  "Billy,  hold  your  spoon  for 
sister.  Show  daddy  how  you  hold  your 
spoon." 

She  put  the  spoon  between  his  fingers  and 
he  looked  at  it  and  smiled.  My  husband  was 
excited  beyond  words.  It  was  just  a  small 
thing,  but  it  was  the  start.  It  gave  us  hope 
that  soon  he  would  learn  to  do  more  and 
more. 

From  that  day  forward  Hy  redoubled  his 
efforts  to  teach  Billy  to  do  things.  At  every 
exercise  session  we  would  put  something  just 
a  little  bit  heavier  between  those  first  two 
fingers.  Slowly  it  worked  and  over  a  period  of 
weeks  we  could  see  improvement. 

When  Billy  reached  his  first  birthday  he 
was  on  a  par  with  other  children  of  his  age. 
His  only  failing  was  his  inability  to  stand 
alone.  Although  he  could  not  crawl  in  the 
true  sense,  he  got  around  as  quickly  as  any 
other  child  of  that  age.  He  manipulated  his 
fingers  well,  picked  up  objects  of  all  sizes  and 
shapes. 

He  was  feeding  himself  alone  and  doing  a 
good  job  of  it.  He  was  slow,  naturally,  and 
spilled  some  of  the  contents  of  the  spoon,  but 
what  one-year-old  does  not  do  this?  One  day 
I  was  impatient  because  he  was  not  eating 


Born  in  the  shade  of  a  water  tank 
In  a  town  that  owned  a  tree. 
An  only  child  in  an  only  town 
In  a  wide  and  lone  country. 

So  long,  Mr.  Foreman,  so  long. 

Miss  Daughter; 
It's  awful  far  to  a  glass  of  water. 

Born  in  a  town  by  a  water  tank. 
Desert  around  the  place. 
Four  long  tracks  to  the  end  of  the 
earth, 

Distance  touching  my  face. 

Railroad  jobs  kept  daddy  poor. 
Kids  takes  money  and  we  got 
no  more. 

Walking  papers  in  my  pocket. 
Left  that  town  but  never  forgot 
Empty  place  in  somebody's  locket. 
Steam  in  my  heart  like  a  coffeepot. 


fast  enough  to  suit  me.  I  picked  up  the  spoon  j 
from  his  fingers  and  attempted  to  get  it  intoi 
his  mouth.  He  closed  his  lips  tightly  but  still 
I  would  not  give  up.  Before  I  knew  what  was 
happening  he  had  lifted  the  glass  dish  and 
slung  it  to  the  floor.  I  do  not  know  where  he 
got  the  strength  to  pick  it  up.  He  looked 
frightened  after  it  was  done,  thinking  he 
would  be  punished.  I  was  so  flabbergasted' 
that  I  did  nothing.  Oh,  yes,  the  first  op- 
portunity I  got,  I  made  certain  to  buy  some 
plastic  dishes  for  his  use.  I  also  made  certain 
that  I  did  not  persist  in  something  when  he: 
showed  me  he  did  not  want  me  to.  Our  young 
man  had  a  very  good  mind  of  his  own. 

At  the  beginning  of  May  I  made  a  visit 
home  to  Cleveland  with  both  children 
Mother  took  care  of  them,  and  for  one  week 
I  did  nothing  but  sleep,  eat  and  listen  to  the 
radio.  After  that  period  of  reorganizing  my' 
strength  I  started  to  notify  friends  of  m> 
presence.  I  invited  them  over  to  see  all  of  u^ 
and  especially  Billy. 

It  used  to  delight  me  to  see  the  change  o; 
expression  that  passed  over  their  faces  aftei 
they  had  been  in  his  presence.  They  were 
fascinated  with  his  charm  and  astounded  b\ 
his  prowess.  Most  people  associate  physica 
handicaps  with  mental  retardedness.  The> 
pitied  my  unfortunate  youngster  when  they 
came,  but  oh,  how  different  their  attitude 
when  they  left !  That  is  why  I  was  so  eager 
for  my  friends  and  family  to  know  him.  1 
had  so  much  confidence  in  my  son,  so  much' 
love  for  him  that  I  knew  his  charm  woulc 
convert  and  inspire  people. 

While  I  was  in  Cleveland  one  of  my  friend; 
mentioned  a  handicapped  organization  there- 
I  decided  to  visit  their  offices.  The  secretary 
told  me  how  it  had  originated.  Possibilitie;' 
Unlimited  was  founded  in  1944  by  George 
Kruger,  who  had  been  an  amputee  since  the 
age  of  twelve.  I  was  informed  that  the  or 
ganization  has  a  membership  of  more  thar 
300  amputees,  both  veteran  and  civilian.  One 
of  its  major  activities  is  to  help  obtain  em 
ployment  for  its  members. 

I  told  this  man  about  our  son  and  he  tolc 
me  about  Richard  Ruff,  born  with  an  ab 
sence  of  both  arms  below  the  elbows  anc 
missing  one  leg  below  the  knee.  The  othei 
leg,  although  normal,  had  a  deformed  foot 
Richard  was  now  seventeen  and  went  to  higl 
school.  I  promised  to  call  this  family. 

That  evening  I  did  call  the  Ruff  family 
Mrs.  Ruff  asked  us  to  visit  them,  but  since 
they  lived  a  great  distance  from  our  liomei 
and  my  father  had  no  automobile,  I  suggestec'i 
they  visit  us  instead.  They  promised  to  be 
over  the  following  night. 

The  Ruffs  were  a  delightful  family.  A; 
soon  as  the  introductions  were  over  they  sai-j 
down  on  the  living-room  rug  to  play  witl' 
Billy.  They  answered  my  hesitant  question* 
graciously. 

Dick  was  an  only  child,  very  attrac 
tive.  His  family  was  proud  of  him  and  he 
certainly  was  not  handicapped  in  his  abilit; 
to  live  a  normal,  full  life.  He  showed  us  the 
wooden  leg,  the  specially  built  and  ex 
tremely  heavy  shoe  he  hj^.  to  wear  on  hi; 
other  foot.  He  let  us  exarhme  his  arms,  per 
fectly  normal  as  fai»as  they  went.  He  wore  nc ' 
artificial  arms,  yet  did  everything  any  othei 
young  man  of  that  age  could  do.  ' 

He  held  a  pencil  between  his  two  stump^ 
and  his  handwriting  was  more  legible  thar*' 
mine.  He  held  a  glass,  cutlery,  hot  cup  o' 
coffee  or  anything  else.  He  had  not  entereC 
school  until  he  was  seven  years  old,  so  he  was 
a  little  behind  his  age  group.  He  went  tc 
regular  high  school  and  competed  with  hi; 
schoolmates  on  the  same  basis.  He  was  ^ 
good  swimmer,  dancer,  an  above-average*' 
bowler,  played  basketball  and  was  the  foot- 
ball kicker  of  his  school  team.  He  was  pro- 
ficient at  baseball.  During  the  summers  hel 
was  a  paid  counselor  at  a  city  camp  for  crip-1 
pled  children.  Here  he  was  also  in  charge  o 
sports.  He  was  majoring  in  printing  at  schoo 
and  had  his  own  printing  shop  at  home.  He 
already  conducted  a  small  business  and  ex 
pected  to  continue  that  work  for  a  profession  '• 

In  addition  to  all  this,  he  possessed  a  li 
cense  to  drive  his  father's  car  and  held  ar 
e  ecutive  post  in  Possibilities  Unlimited.  He 


Walking  Papers 

JXw  Witliam  Stafford 


\l  I 


I'll 


id  to  liavf  :issisl;iiUT  lo  lie  his  slioel.-iccs, 
id  111'  liad  dilliiully  walkiriK  on  icy  slreels 
iriiiK  llic  wiiiliT.  He  was  coinplclely  sclf- 
(Ticiciit ;  and  llicie  were  very  few  lasks  lliis 
leorful,  niatler-of-fact  youn^  person  could 
)t  do  well. 

While  I  hey  were  telling  us  alxnit  tlieiii- 
Ives  they  were  also  ohservinK  Hilly.  'I'hey 
ked  (lueslions  about  his  i)ro^;ress.  Mrs. 
ill  played  with  niy  son  in  the  same  calm 
inner  one  would  play  with  any  child.  I 
uld  see  undei  standing  mirrored  on  her 
:e,  and  ho[)e  for  our  hai)i)iness. 
The  Ruff  family  did  not  leave  thai  evening 
111  we  were  fast  friends.  We  saw  each  oilier 
aiii  during  this  visit  and  bcRan  a  ionn  cor- 
!l)ondence. 

When  I  arrived  home  I  discovered  thai  my 
sbaiid  had  planned  a  surprise  for  inc.  He 
d  conipleled  arraiiMemenls  for  us  lo  spend 
I  summer  at  a  small  farm  resorl.  Not  only 
s  this  lo  be  a  resl  for  ine,  but  the  oppor- 
lily  to  leach  my  son  lo  walk.  The  doctor 
rned  thai  we  had  lo  be  careful  about  lel- 
gourson  walk  alone.  Most  children  at  this 
learn  to  walk  naturally.  I  nolici'd  that 
!y  always  kept  their  hands  in  front  of  them 
up  at  their  sides.  My  son  had  no  arms  lo 
ilect  his  body  and  break  his  fall, 
.iilly  refused  to  stay  in  his  stroller,  want- 
:  lo  be  runnin.u  and  exploring  the  way  all 
Idren  do.  I  needed  acres  of  soft  green  grass 
thai  he  could  run  and  jilay  safely  to  his 
ut 's  content. 

riiis  was  I  he  manner  of  place  we  went  that 
nmer.  I  had  no  need  to  cook,  clean  or  care 
my  daughter  Karen  went  to  a  pleasant 
r  camp  and  I  devoted  the  hours  from 
vn  till  dusk  to  teaching  my  impalienL  son 


lOJ 


Y  was  the  one  to  initiate  swimming  ses- 
is  for  our  son.  He  loved  the  water  and  did 
want  to  leave,  once  he  was  in.  He  actually 
ved  his  feet  and  arm  rhythmically  and  Hy 
i  me  that  he  would  certainly  be  able  to 
ch  him  to  swim.  My  husband  would  pur- 
ely duck  him  into  the  water  to  see  if  he 
aid  be  afraid.  Each  time  he  came  up  with 
mile,  the  water  running  down  his  tiny 

Ve  had  a  time  discouraging  publicity 
<ers  from  taking  our  son's  picture.  We  re- 
id  to  allow  anyone  to  take  snapshots  of  us 
n  when  it  was  on  the  pretense  of  having  a 
up  picture  to  remember  us  by.  We  knew 
pie  wanted  to  show  such  snapshots  to 
ir  unbelieving  friends  back  home.  They 
not  mean  to  be  unkind,  but  we  squelched 
h  ideas  from  the  start, 
lilly  was  more  than  one  and  a  half  years 
when  we  returned  home  at  the  end  of  that 
imer— tanned,  healthy  and  starting  to 
:  words.  There  was  one  feat  he  was  still 
ipable  of.  Although  he  was  able  to  raise 
self  from  a  lying  to  a  sitting  position,  he 
Id  not  get  to  a  standing  one.  My  patient 
band  spent  hours  trying  to  help  him 
Iter  this. 

lilly  knew  how  to  solve  the  situation  to 
)wn  needs  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  come 
ing  into  the  kitchen  to  tell  me  that  he 
ited  to  get  up.  He  would  pull  at  my  skirts 

call,  "Mommy,  stand,  stand."  Then  I 
lid  pull  him  to  his  feet  and  he  would  walk 
y  happily.  When  he  wanted  to  sit  down 
/ould  bend  his  body  and  fall  onto  his  but- 
:s.  Occasionally  he  would  ask  me  to  help 

sit  down,  but  not  often, 
lost  children  pull  themselves  into  a 
iding  position  by  grabbing  a  chair  or 
6  and  pulling  themselves  upright.  Billy 
to  be  taught  to  stand  in  a  difTerent  man- 

;y  would  tell  him  to  slide  over  to  the 
;h  or  chair,  show  him  how  to  place  his 
erson  the  seat  for  support,  and  then  push 
body  upright.  It  took  lots  of  patience, 
of  encouragement,  but  he  finally  learned 
tand  by  himself. 

[y  husband  came  home  one  afternoon,  his 
s  laden  with  books  and  papers.  He  was 
ning  as  I  opened  the  door  for  him.  I 
;d,  "What  is  all  that?  "  My  husband  just 
ned  more  and  walked  into  the  bedroom 
laid  all  the  material  on  the  bed.  I  was 
jr  to  see  what  this  was  all  about,  but  he 


l"W>m  t..  vva.t  until  alter  1  he  children  wm- 
m  bed  and  ihcn  he  vv(,uld  lell  me 

While  Hy  made  out  his  busmeHs  re,>,rtH  I 
lid  the  dishes  and  then  sal  down  lo  wail  for 

S.^llrlalk:""'^'''''''''^''^'""^'^--'^ 
"Leona  I  was  in  ihe  vicinity  of  the  main 
Veterans  Adminislration  \mMmv  and  de- 
cided lo  go  talk  lo  someone  in  charge  I  had 
no  Idea  what  I  was  seeking  lo  learn.  I  was 
just  curious  to  browse  around.  I  slop|)ed  al 
the  reception  desk  and  the  man  there  i„in,- 
duced me  toll,,,  librarian.  Sh.'  wasmost  help- 
ful  1  discovered  I  hat  each  St  ale  hasan  agency 
lo  help  the  handicapped.  Mesides.  there  are 
many  private  chartered  organizations  I 
coi)ied  down  most  of  the  names  and  brought 
home  pamphlets  and  iiiaga/ines  that  Ihe 
lil)rary  could  spare.  Most  of  these  organi/a- 
iK'iis  publish  their  own  monlhly  lileralure 
Ihrough  them  we  can  gel  in  contacl  wilh 
other  ijarents  of  handicap|)ed  children  like 
liilly. 

"The  librarian  suggested  I  go  lo  the  public 
library  and  I  si)ent  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
there.  I  have  a  list  of  about  sevenly-live 
agencies.  It  is  my  oi)inion  lhat  we  should 
write  lo  all  of  them.  I  believe  lhat  we  should 
write  the  cards  this  very  evening." 

We  sat  up  I  ill  after  midnight  and  I  de- 
veloped a  severe  cramj)  in  one  hand  but  we 
did  write  to  every  single  one  of  ihem.  We 
wrote  the  same  message  on  all  the  cards: 

Genllenien:  I  am  the  mother  of  a  baby  boy 
who  was  born  armless.  I  am  eager  for  any  and 
all  information  that  I  can  get.  I  would  like  lo 
correspond  with  other  parents  of  armless  chil- 
dren. Kindly  place  my  name  on  your  mailing 
list.  Your  assistance  will  be  greatly  appreciated. 

I  was  disappointed  when  two  weeks  had 
passed  and  we  had  received  nary  an  answer. 
I  was  certain  the  cards  must  have  gone 
astray.  During  this  period  my  husband  was 
spending  more  anctmore  time  at  the  library. 
He  was  acquiring  an  impressive  list  of  books 
for  us  to  read.  We  discovered  that  there  were 
many  autobiographies  on  the  subject  of 
polio,  blindness,  deafness,  cerebral  palsy  and 
other  crippling  conditions. 

One  day  when  I  went  to  answer  the  door- 
bell my  mailman  shoved  about  twenty-five 
letters  into  my  arms  with  the  curt  remark, 
"These  are  yours.  They  would  not  go  into 
the  box." 

The  letters  on  the  whole  were  friendly, 
sympathetic  and  genuinely  interested.  We 
began  to  receive  magazines  and  pamphlets. 
We  were  also  told  of  a  number  of  prominent 
armless  persons  of  whom  we  had  never  heard. 

I  began  to  devote  two  and  three  hours  each 
evening  to  answering  letters,  reading  the  ar- 
ticles sent  us  and  trying  to  finish  one  book  a 
week  from  the  library.  I  was  fascinated  with 
the  new  world  that  had  suddenly  opened.  As 
our  correspondence  grew  we  received  this 
letter: 

Jamestotvn,  North  Dakota 
Dear  Mrs.  Bruckner :  I  am  glad  that  my  name 
was  given  to  you  for  I  shall  be  most  interested  in 
hearing  about  the  progress  of  your  little  boy.  . . . 
A  man  who  is  a  remarkable  example,  one  who 
uses  his  feet  because  he  has  no  arms,  is  Rev. 
Harold  Wilke,  of  Crystal  Lake,  Illinois.  He  was 
a  chaplain  for  several  years  and  now  is  serving 
a  church  while  he  is  working  on  his  Ph.D.  de- 
gree. He  is  married,  has  three  children.  Perhaps 
you  have  already  written  to  him,  but  if  not,  I'd 
suggest  him  as  the  best  person  you  can  find  for 
practical  help.  Sincerely, 
Anne  H.  Carlsen 

We  began  at  once  a  correspondence  with 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Wilke. 

One  April  morning  my  husband  and  I  were 
awakened  by  the  ringing  of  our  doorbell.  It 
was  a  mailman  with  a  special-delivery  letter 
from  the  Reverend  Harold  Wilke.  He  was 
due  to  give  a  lecture  not  far  away  and  wanted 
to  stop  to  visit  us. 

We  were  excited  and  happy  over  the  pros- 
pect of  meeting  this  man  with  whom  we  had 
been  corresponding. 

It  was  almost  eight  o'clock  when  we  heard 
his  ring  at  the  door.  Hy  went  to  open  the 
door  while  I  waited  with  the  children.  My 
first  emotion  was  that  of  absolute  amaze- 
ment. I  saw  not  the  man  himself  but  the 


fairly  large  suitca«e  ttlrapixd  lo  hi« (houidt-rn 
My  liunhand /ii.kI.   n  iMcfiipi  lo  I  ■  !■.  ' 
lift  It  from  hi-  \nii  \w  v,:< 

liiH  rffu«il.  "'I  I.          , ,  |,m  I  am  ..i,.. 

l<j  manage  it  by  mynfll" 

lie  wax  (|uiu-  lall.  hhm  ImjI  well  fxiil' 
drcHst  d  III  a  dark  blue  buMiieHH  nuit  I  lis  i 
was  nol  haiKlHorne  bul  it  harl  ^'^-1  <• 
lie  had  much  dignity  and  hi-,  ' 
mine  frankly   Tin-  hUwvh  o( 
were  unaltered,  bin  Hi  rmrd  to  i 
to  Ihe  |XK-kelH.  Me  wore  brov.i.  .  , 
hIkk'h  wilhoiii  laceH. 

lie  inlnxluced  liimHcIf  and  immwiialdy 
began  lo  center  hm  ailenlion  on  Ixiih  chil- 
dren. He  waH  walcliirig  Hilly  bui  talking 
Karen  Mm  manner  wan  friendly,  and  c 
plelely  al  ease.  I  knew  msianily  that 
man  and  r»iir  family  would  iM-come  lam 
friends. 

When  dinner  was  over  lu-  callwl  Karen  to 
sil  in  Ins  lap  and  lold  her  alx»iii  Ins  family 
and  asked  her  alxnil  liers»  lf.  As  a  result ,  when 
he  (inally  did  take  Hilly  into  this  charmed 
circle,  she  did  not  reseiii  it. 

!•;  did  not  have  lime  f(jr  |x  rsonal  conver- 
sation  until  the  children  were  in  Ix-d.  First 
Harold  asked  (jueslions  alxnil  Hilly.  We  told 
him  the  story  of  his  life  and  he  listened  with 
inleresl.  He  went  on  lo  explain,  "When 
World  War  Two  brr)ke  out  I  volunteered  for 
scTvice  in  the  armed  forces.  An  exception  was 
made  so  that  I  did  not  have  lo  wear  a  uni- 
form. I  worked  with  menially  and  emo- 
tionally upset  men.  So  many  men  were  mis- 
hls  because  they  had  lived  unhappy  child- 
h(K)ds.  Men  who  may  have  been  given  the 
comforts  that  money  can  purchase  bul  not 
the  love  that  is  due  every  child." 

He  was  the  second  of  three  bfjys  born  to  his 
Ijarents  and,  as  far  as  he  could  discover,  the 
only  armless  member  of  the  family.  His  par- 
ents were  farmers  and  he  lived  a  full,  happy 
life  doing  all  the  allotted  tasks  of  any  farm 
boy.  He  took  pride  telling  us  he  had  to  walk 
a  mile  to  reach  the  public  school.  He  admitted 
with  some  modesty  that  he  swam  well  and 
could  stay  in  the  water  for  hours  at  a  time. 
He  had  his  first  date  with  a  girl  during  high 
school  and  it  was  the  usual  experience  of  any 
young  schoolboy.  The  date  had  been  to  a 
school  dance  with  one  of  the  local  girls  he  had 
grown  up  with.  He  said  he  danced  but  did 
not  especially  care  for  it.  He  owned  and  op- 
erated a  car  and  had  a  regular  license  to 
drive. 

He  mused  aloud,  "I  do  everything  that 
any  other  family  man  would  attend  to 
around  a  home."  He  looked  dowTi  at  his  feet 
and  grinned  boyishly.  "My  feet  are  still 
spotted  with  blue  paint.  I  painted  the  baby's 
crib  a  few  weeks  back.  Oh,  yes,  I  do  all  my 
own  painting,  all  the  repairing,  too,  putting 
up  screens  and  storm  windows.  I  am  fortu- 
nate that  I  have  more  time  to  myself  than  the 
average  man  does.  I  have  a  small  congrega- 
tion, and  in  addition  to  my  duties  as  pastor  of 
the  church,  I  am  available  for  lectures.  I 
have  an  agreement  with  my  congregation 
that  I  be  pennitted  to  aid  and  counsel  the 
crippled  whenever  I  am  called  upon  to  do  so." 

Hy  asked  him  more  about  his  family.  He 
told  us  he  has  three  sons,  the  youngest  just 
an  infant.  The  children  are  all  normal  and 
healthy.  He  produced  some  snapshots  of  his 
family  and  they  were  ail  handsome  young- 
sters. 

My  husband  asked,  "When  did  you 
marry?" 

He  replied,  "I  met  my  wife  when  I  was 
going  to  college.  She  became  a  social  worker 
and  I  went  into  a  theological  seminary.  We 
married  when  I  was  twenty-five  years  old." 

My  huband  inquired  again,  "Did  your  in- 
laws have  any  objections  to  their  daughter 
marrying  you?  " 

"At  the  beginning  they  did,  although  I  do 
not  believe  their  objection  was  based  on  the 
fact  that  I  was  armless.  They  objected  to  me 
in  the  same  manner  they  would  object  to  any 
of  their  daughter's  suitors.  You  know  parents 
want  the  best  for  their  children  and  some- 
times are  extremely  critical.  I  am  now  mar- 
ried thirteen  years  and  my  in-laws  and  my- 
self are  the  best  of  friends." 

My  husband  wanted  to  know  if  his  chil- 
dren ever  questioned  him  about  his  lack  of 


\ 


see 


ho 


soft 


I-i{lht  on  your  fool 
.  .  .  li^ht  on  your 
pocketbook,  too! 


79 


for  ttie  store  nearest  you,  write: 
PETERS  SHOE   COMPANY,  SAINT  LOUIS 


,iieet,  New  York  13 


100 


LADIES'       H    O    M    F,  JOURNAL 


January,  195.  \ 


About  three  weeks  after  this  I  received  a 
phone  call  from  the  secretary  of  Dr.  Arthur 
Abramson.  She  told  me  that  we  had  an  ap- 
pointment at  the  institute  the  following 
month.  He  would  take  us  himself. 

As  we  came  to  the  turn  in  the  road  we  saw 
the  sign,  "The  Kessler  Institute  for  Re- 
habilitation, Pleasant  Valley  Way,  West 
Orange,  New  Jersey."  I  could  see  a  lovely 
modern  building  which  resembled  a  private 
home. 

We  entered  by  the  wide  doors  that  had 
been  planned  for  wheel-chair  use,  and  were  in 
a  large,  friendly  waiting  room.  The  recep- 
tionist asked  our  names  and  as  soon  as  she 
heard  Doctor  Abramson  tell  who  he  was  she 
beckoned  to  us.  Doctor  Kessler  wanted  to  see 
him  at  once,  but  we  were  to  wait. 

There  were  a  number  of  comfortable  chairs 
in  the  room  and  about  ten  apparently  dis- 
abled persons  sitting  there.  Patients  from  all 
walks  of  life  are  treated  here.  Not  only  ampu- 
tees but  paraplegics,  hemiplegics,  postpolios, 
neuromuscular  diseases  and  orthopedic  de- 
formities. Dr.  Henry  Kessler,  a  top  ortho- 
pedic surgeon  and  the  Navy  Department's 
authority  on  amputation,  founded  this  clinic, 
a  voluntary  nonprofit  organization.  Patients 
treated  here  must  be  referred  by  doctors. 

A  nurse  approached  and  told  us  Doctor 
Kessler  was  waiting  to  see  us.  We  entered  the 
examining  room  and  found  Doctor  Abramson 
in  conversation  with  a  middle-aged  man  we 
properly  assumed  was  Doctor  Kessler.  Billy, 
who  was  now  wide-awake,  was  played  with 
and  talked  to.  Doctor  Kessler  confirmed  the 
statements  made  by  Doctor  Abramson  that 
Billy  could  not  have  prosthesis  done  until  he 
was  at  least  five  or  six  years  old.  He  suggested 
that  we  return  in  a  year  for  a  checkup. 

Hy  spoke  up.  "I  want  you  to  know  that  we 
were  very  much  upset  when  our  son  was 
born,  but  now  we  are  adjusted  to  our  prob- 
lem and  intend  to  raise  him  as  nearly  like  a 
normal  child  as  possible." 

Doctor  Kessler  looked  pleased.  "I  am 
happy  to  hear  you  say  that.  The  attitude  of 
the  parents  is  almost  as  important  as  the 
handicap  in  determining  the  cure." 

We  said  our  good-bys  and  got  into  our  car. 
We  did  not  talk  much  during  the  drive  home, 
each  busy  with  thoughts  of  what  we  had  been 
told. 

About  this  time  my  husband  started  the 
series  of  exercises  for  Billy.  Every  morning 
and  night  he  would  spend  half  an  hour  pa- 
tiently exercising  Billy's  body. 

He  always  conducted  these  periods  when 
Billy  was  lying  on  a  firm  surface,  such  as  his 
hard  mattress  or  the  table.  He  brought  each 
leg  up  from  the  surface  until  it  was  straight  in 
the  air.  He  did  it  with  one  foot  at  a  time. 
Next  he  flexed  one  leg  and  brought  it  back 
until  the  knee  touched  his  stomach.  Gradu- 
ally this  leg  exercise  was  made  more  difficult 
and  Billy  was  able  to  bring  both  legs  to  the 
back  of  his  head. 

Billy  had  still  made  no  attempt  to  relax  his 
tightly  clenched  fingers.  When  we  tried  to 
have  him  hold  something  he  would  cry  out  in 
anger.  So  we  discontinued  trying  to  help  him 
become  aware  of  the  use  of  his  fingers. 

He  was  now  six  months  old,  at  the  age 
most  babies  try  to  sit  up.  Hy  would  help 
Billy  to  arise  by  placing  one  hand  firmly 
against  his  back  while  his  other  hand  held 
both  feet  tightly  against  the  table.  Slowly, 
day  by  day,  he  made  progress  until  Hy  was 
able  to  release  his  pressure  on  Billy's  back. 

As  these  exercises  increased  in  difficulty  we 
could  see  hciw  the  stomach  and  neck  muscles 
were  developing.  At  seven  months  Billy  was 
sitting  with  support  and  by  eight  months  he 
was  sitting  unaided  in  his  high  chair. 

I  was  now  keeping  him  in  the  play  pen.  I 
had  a  cradle  gym  strung  up  across  it  and  he 
would  lie  on  his  back,  kicking  away  at  it.  I 
added  more  objects :  bells,  rattle  and  squeaky 
toys.  He  would  delight  in  kicking  them.  He 
was  able  to  sit  himself  up  from  the  floor  al- 
most without  assistance. 

He  was  a  wonderful  baby,  so  happy  and 
contented.  He  never  whimpered  or  cried  or 
demanded  attention  unless  something  was 
bothering  him.  Even  my  husband  had  lost  all 


his  first  fear  of  seeing  and  meeting  people.  He 
was  proud  when  they  stared  at  Billy  with  ad- 
miring eyes.  He  was  a  child  we  could  well  be 
proud  of. 

Each  night  when  Hy  came  home  he  would 
ask  if  Billy  had  made  any  attempt  to  use  his 
fingers.  I  would  shake  my  head.  Our  son  kept 
his  fingers  in  that  same  immovable  position, 
not  trying  to  separate  or  move  them.  I  began 
to  dread  that  question  each  night.  Even 
Karen  realized  how  much  we  ached  for  such  a 
miracle.  She  used  to  put  Billy's  little  baby 
spoon  on  top  of  the  high-chair  tray  and  coax 
him  to  play  with  it.  "See,  brother,  sister 
holds  a  spoon.  You  do  it  too."  She  could  not 
understand  why  he  did  not  use  his  little 
fingers. 

Then  one  day  a  miracle  really  happened. 
It  was  a  lovely  autumn  afternoon  and  I  was 
rushing  with  lunch  so  I  could  take  the  chil- 
dren to  the  playground.  I  had  already  fed 
Billy  and  was  helping  my  daughter  feed  her- 
self so  that  we  could  get  out  sooner.  Billy  did 
not  want  to  sit  in  the  high  chair  and  was 
cross.  Karen  had  given  him  his  spoon  to  play 
with.  She  tried  to  insert  it  between  his  fingers 
and  he  cried  out  in  anger.  I  reproached  her 
and  tried  to  explain  again  that  brother  did 
not  know  how  to  hold  anything  yet. 

I  brought  out  a  cracker  and  was  letting  him 
take  bites  out  of  it  just  to  keep  him  quiet.  I 
would  hold  it  near  his  mouth  and  he  would 
take  a  bite  apd  then  I  would  put  it  down  un- 
til he  was  ready  for  the  next  mouthful.  I 
heard  him  cry  to  get  my  attention  and  I 
picked  it  up  and,  without  looking,  held  it  up 
to  his  mouth.  It  was  too  far  for  him  to  reach, 
so  he  pulled  himself  forward  and  snapped  a 
bite  at  it.  Karen  thought  it  was  funny  and 
asked  him  to  do  it  again. 

I  put  the  cracker  down  on  the  high  chair 
and  turned  my  attention  to  my  daughter's 
still-unfinished  plate.  Suddenly  I  heard 
Karen's  voice,  excited  and  eager,  "Look, 
mommy !  Billy  is  trying  to  pick  up  the 
cracker  with  his  little  fingers." 

It  was  true !  My  son  was  moving  his  hand 
along  the  top  of  the  high  chair  and  near  the 
cracker,  hoping  to  lift  it.  I  tried  to  keep  my 
voice  calm.  "Not  like  that,  Billy.  Here,  let 
mommy  put  it  between  your  fingers  for  you. " 

My  fingers  were  trembling  as  I  gently 
spread  his  first  two  fingers  enough  to  insert 
the  cracker.  He  held  it  stiffiy,  not  knowing 
what  to  do.  I  carefully  brought  his  fingers  as 
close  to  his  mouth  as  I  was  able  and  he  took  a 
bite  gingerly.  After  he  had  chewed  that  piece 
he  smiled  and  looked  down  at  the  cracker, 
still  held  between  those  immovable  fingers. 


Foreman's  house  in  the  shade  of  a 
tree. 

Owns  a  shack  and  a  pretty 

daughter, 
Richest  man  in  the  whole 

country — 
Miles  of  view  and  a  tank  of  water. 

Hello,  Mr.  Foreman,  hello,  Miss 

Daughter; 
Just  stopping  by  for  a  glass  of 

water. 

Felt  thrown  away  like  an  old  milk 
bottle 

Down  on  the  cinders  by  the 

railroad  track. 
Walking  papers  in  my  pocket. 
Sun  shining  down  like  a  slap  on 

the  back. 

Walking  papers?  Why,  what  do 

you  mean? 
Had  a  good  job  wherever  I  been. 


Again  I  lifted  his  arm  and  let  him  take  a 
bite.  His  fingers  were  still  too  short  to  reach 
to  his  mouth.  He  could  feed  himself  only  if  he 
was  holding  something  long  enough  to  sup- 
plement the  length  of  his  fingers.  The  cracker 
was  too  small  now,  so  I  substituted  a  fresh 
one.  Each  time  he  would  take  a  bite  I  would 
take  his  hand  away  and  return  it  against  the 
side  of  his  body. 

The  next  minute  he  had  swallowed  the 
cracker  and  this  time  he  attempted  to  get  his 
fingers  to  his  mouth  unaided.  He  was  not 
holding  the  cracker  tight  enough  and  it 
slipped  from  his  fingers.  He  let  me  know  how 
disappointed  he  was  and  I  retrieved  it  and 
put  it  more  tightly  between  those  fingers. 

I  thought  no  more  of  going  out  that  after- 
noon. For  the  next  half  hour  I  sat  there  giv- 
ing him  crackers;  and  then,  when  he  tired  of 
eating,  I  used  his  toys.  It  was  a  new  game 
afid  he  was  delighted  with  it.  I  showed  him 
how  to  shake  his  arm  and  the  rattle  would 
jingle.  He  laughed  and  tried  to  do  it  himself. 

When  I  heard  my  husband's  key  in  the 
lock  I  rushed  to  meet  him.  There  were  tears 
in  my  eyes  as  I  whispered,  "Oh,  darling,  at 
last  Billy  is  using  his  fingers." 

My  husband  rushed  into  the  kitchen  where 
Billy  was  eating  his  supper.  I  tried  to  get  him 
to  perform,  but  to  no  avail.  He  just  would  not 
co-operate.  A  few  minutes  later  Karen  went 
to  speak  to  Billy.  "Billy,  hold  your  spoon  for 
sister.  Show  daddy  how  you  hold  your 
spoon." 

She  put  the  spoon  between  his  fingers  and 
he  looked  at  it  and  smiled.  My  husband  was 
excited  beyond  words.  It  was  just  a  small 
thing,  but  it  was  the  start.  It  gave  us  hope 
that  soon  he  would  learn  to  do  more  and 
more. 

From  that  day  forward  Hy  redoubled  his 
efforts  to  teach  Billy  to  do  things.  At  every 
exercise  session  we  would  put  something  just 
a  little  bit  heavier  between  those  first  two 
fingers.  Slowly  it  worked  and  over  a  period  of 
weeks  we  could  see  improvement. 

When  Billy  reached  his  first  birthday  he 
was  on  a  par  with  other  children  of  his  age. 
His  only  failing  was  his  inability  to  stand 
alone.  Although  he  could  not  crawl  in  the 
true  sense,  he  got  around  as  quickly  as  any 
other  child  of  that  age.  He  manipulated  his 
fingers  well,  picked  up  objects  of  all  sizes  and 
shapes. 

He  was  feeding  himself  alone  and  doing  a 
good  job  of  it.  He  was  slow,  naturally,  and 
spilled  some  of  the  contents  of  the  spoon,  but 
what  one-year-old  does  not  do  this?  One  day 
I  was  impatient  because  he  was  not  eating 


Born  in  the  shade  of  a  water  tank 
In  a  town  that  owned  a  tree, 
An  only  child  in  an  only  town 
In  a  wide  and  lone  country. 

So  long,  Mr.  Foreman,  so  long, 

Miss  Daughter; 
It's  awful  far  to  a  glass  of  water. 

Born  in  a  town  by  a  water  tank. 
Desert  around  the  place. 
Four  long  tracks  to  the  end  of  the 
earth. 

Distance  touching  my  face. 

Railroad  jobs  kept  daddy  poor. 
Kids  takes  money  and  we  got 
no  more. 

Walking  papers  in  my  pocket. 
Left  that  town  but  never  forgot 
Empty  place  in  somebody's  locket. 
Steam  in  my  heart  like  a  coffeepot. 


fast  enough  to  suit  me.  I  picked  up  the  spooi  i 
from  his  fingers  and  attempted  to  get  it  int( 
his  mouth.  He  closed  his  lips  tightly  but  stil 
I  would  not  give  up.  Before  I  knew  what  wa: 
happening  he  had  lifted  the  glass  dish  am 
slung  it  to  the  floor.  I  do  not  know  where  h(J 
got  the  strength  to  pick  it  up.  He  lookec^i 
frightened  after  it  was  done,  thinking  h(j 
would  be  punished.  I  was  so  flabbergastec^ 
that  I  did  nothing.  Oh,  yes,  the  first  opi 
portunity  I  got,  I  made  certain  to  buy  somii 
plastic  dishes  for  his  use.  I  also  made  certaiJi 
that  I  did  not  persist  in  something  when  hi] 
showed  me  he  did  not  want  me  to.  Our  youni  j 
man  had  a  very  good  mind  of  his  own. 

At  the  beginning  of  May  I  made  a  visil 
home  to  Cleveland  with  both  children*; 
Mother  took  care  of  them,  and  for  one  weel" 
I  did  nothing  but  sleep,  eat  and  listen  to  tb 
radio.  After  that  period  of  reorganizing  m; 
strength  I  started  to  notify  friends  of 
presence.  I  invited  them  over  to  see  all  of  u 
and  especially  Billy. 

Mt  used  to  delight  me  to  see  the  change  o 
expression  that  passed  over  their  faces  aft& 
they  had  been  in  his  presence.  They  wer' 
fascinated  with  his  charm  and  astounded  b^ 
his  prowess.  Most  people  associate  physical 
handicaps  with  mental  retardedness.  The;'! 
pitied  my  unfortunate  youngster  when  the;^ 
came,  but  oh,  how  different  their  attitud'^ 
when  they  left !  That  is  why  I  was  so  eagel 
for  my  friends  and  fam.ily  to  know  him. 
had  so  much  confidence  in  my  son,  so  mucf 
love  for  him  that  I  knew  his  charm  woukV 
convert  and  inspire  people. 

While  I  was  in  Cleveland  one  of  my  friend- ! 
mentioned  a  handicapped  organization  ther€' 
I  decided  to  visit  their  offices.  The  secretar 
told  me  how  it  had  originated.  Possibilitie'; 
Unlimited  was  founded  in  1944  by  Georges 
Kruger,  who  had  been  an  amputee  since  th|i 
age  of  twelve.  I  was  informed  that  the  ofi' 
ganization  has  a  membership  of  more  thai] 
300  amputees,  both  veteran  and  civilian.  On| 
of  its  major  activities  is  to  help  obtain  em'li 
ployment  for  its  members.  i 

I  told  this  man  about  our  son  and  he  torn 
me  about  Richard  Ruff,  born  with  an  abj 
sence  of  both  arms  below  the  elbows  an^ l 
missing  one  leg  below  the  knee.  The  otheji 
leg,  although  normal,  had  a  deformed  foot"} 
Richard  was  now  seventeen  and  went  to  higl'j 
school.  I  promised  to  call  this  family.  ']! 

That  evening  I  did  call  the  Ruff  familyT. 
Mrs.  Ruff  asked  us  to  visit  them,  but  sine 
they  lived  a  great  distance  from  our  homil 
and  my  father  had  no  automobile,  I  suggestei|- 
they  visit  us  instead.  They  promised  to  bll 
over  the  following  night.  , 

The  Ruffs  were  a  delightful  family.  A  1/ 
soon  as  the  introductions  were  over  they  sa'p 
down  on  the  living-room  rug  to  play  witp|' 
Billy.  They  answered  my  hesitant  questionl? 
graciously.  1^ 

Dick  was  an  only  child,  very  attract 
five.  His  family  was  proud  of  him  and  hffi 
certainly  was  not  handicapped  in  his  abilitsli 
to  live  a  normal,  full  life.  He  showed  us  th Vi. 
wooden  leg,  the  specially  built  and  ex'ib 
tremely  heavy  shoe  he  had  to  wear  on  hi-jlt 
other  foot.  He  let  us  examine  his  arms,  pe^'t 
fectly  normal  as  faiyas  they  went.  He  wore  n<\t 
artificial  arms,  yet  did  everything  any  otheiJ 
young  man  of  that  age  could  do. 

He  held  a  pencil  between  his  two  stump'  i 
and  his  handwriting  was  more  legible  that 
mine.  He  held  a  glass,  cutlery,  hot  cup  o'lf 
coffee  or  anything  else.  He  had  not  entered" 
school  until  he  was  seven  years  old,  so  he  wa^i( 
a  little  behind  his  age  group.  He  went  tci 
regular  high  school  and  competed  with  hiU' 
schoolmates  on  the  same  basis.  He  was  ;i» 
good  swimmer,  dancer,  an  above-averagf  f 
bowler,  played  basketball  and  was  the  foot  ■ 
ball  kicker  of  his  school  team.  He  was  pro  t 
ficient  at  baseball.  During  the  summers  hfIR 
was  a  paid  counselor  at  a  city  camp  for  crip  1 ' 
pled  children.  Here  he  was  also  in  charge  oP 
sports.  He  was  majoring  in  printing  at  school  )■ 
and  had  his  own  printing  shop  at  home.  Hi  * 
already  conducted  a  small  business  and  ex|i' 
pected  to  continue  that  work  for  a  profession!* 

In  addition  to  all  this,  he  possessed  a  li  { ' 
cense  to  drive  his  father's  car  and  held  as\l'- 
e  eciitive  post  in  Possibilities  Unlimited.  H!^- 


Walking  Papers 

Aw  William  Stafford 


Ii;id  lo  liave  assistance  in  \  'w  his  shoelaces, 
and  lie  had  fhl'liciilly  walking  on  icy  streets 
idiiiinK  liie  winter.  He  was  coin|)leteIy  self- 
■iullicient ;  and  there  were  very  few  tasks  lliis 
cheerful,  rnatter-of-facl  youn^  person  could 
not  do  well. 

VViiile  they  were  tellinjj  us  alxnit  them- 
selves they  were  also  (>bservinK  Hilly.  They 
asked  ((uestions  about  his  progress.  Mrs. 
Ruff  played  with  niy  son  in  the  same  calm 
manner  one  would  play  with  any  child.  I 
could  see  understanding  mirrored  on  her 
face,  and  hope  for  our  happiness. 

The  Ruff  family  did  not  leave  that  evening 
until  we  were  fast  friends.  We  saw  each  other 
anain  duruiK  this  visit  and  be^an  a  lonu  cor- 
respondence. 

When  I  arrived  home  I  discovered  that  my 
husband  had  planned  a  surprise  for  me.  He 
had  completed  arranucmi'nis  for  us  to  si^end 
the  sununer  at  a  small  farm  resort.  Not  only 
was  this  to  be  a  rest  for  me,  but  the  oppor- 
tunity to  teach  my  son  to  walk.  The  doctor 
warned  that  we  had  to  be  careful  about  let- 
Linn  our  son  walk  alone.  Most  children  at  this 
3He  learn  to  walk  naturally.  I  noticed  that 
Lhey  always  kept  their  hands  in  front  of  them 
3r  up  at  their  sides.  My  son  had  no  arms  to 
protect  his  body  and  break  his  fall. 

Billy  refused  to  stay  in  his  .stroller,  want- 
n.u  to  be  running  and  exploring  the  way  all 
;hildren  do.  I  needed  acres  of  soft  green  grass 
!0  that  he  could  run  and  play  safely  to  his 
lean's  content. 

This  was  the  manner  of  place  we  went  that 
iuminer.  I  had  no  need  to  cook,  clean  or  care 
or  iny  daughter—  Karen  went  to  a  pleasant 
lay  camp  and  I  devoted  the  hours  from 
lawn  till  dusk  to  teaching  my  impatient  son 
,0  walk. 

IIy  was  the  one  to  initiate  swimming  ses- 
lions  for  our  son.  He  loved  the  water  and  did 
lot  want  lo  leave,  once  he  was  in.  He  actually 
noved  his  feet  and  arm  rhythmically  and  Hy 
old  me  that  he  would  certainly  be  able  to 
each  him  to  swim.  My  husband  would  pur- 
)osely  duck  him  into  the  water  to  see  if  he 
TOuld  be  afraid.  Each  time  he  came  up  with 
1  smile,  the  water  running  down  his  tiny 
ace. 

We  had  a  time  discouraging  publicity 
eekers  from  taking  our  son's  picture.  We  re- 
used to  allow  anyone  to  take  snapshots  of  us 
ven  when  it  was  on  the  pretense  of  having  a 
roup  picture  to  remember  us  by.  We  knew 
leople  wanted  to  show  such  snapshots  to 
heir  unbelieving  friends  back  home.  They 
lid  not  mean  to  be  unkind,  but  we  squelched 
uch  ideas  from  the  start. 

Billy  was  more  than  one  and  a  half  years 
Id  when  we  returned  home  at  the  end  of  that 
ummer— tanned,  healthy  and  starting  to 
alk  words.  There  was  one  feat  he  was  still 
icapable  of.  Although  he  was  able  to  raise 
imself  from  a  lying  to  a  sitting  position,  he 
ould  not  get  to  a  standing  one.  My  patient 
usband  spent  hours  trying  to  help  him 
laster  this. 

Billy  knew  how  to  solve  the  situation  to 
is  own  needs  and  he  did  not  hesitate  to  come 
liding  into  the  kitchen  to  tell  me  that  he 
'anted  to  get  up.  He  would  pull  at  my  skirts 
nd  call,  "Mommy,  stand,  stand."  Then  I 
'ould  pull  him  to  his  feet  and  he  would  walk 
way  happily.  When  he  wanted  to  sit  down 
e  would  bend  his  body  and  fall  onto  his  but- 
3cks.  Occasionally  he  would  ask  me  to  help 
im  sit  down,  but  not  often. 

Most  children  pull  themselves  into  a 
landing  position  by  grabbing  a  chair  or 
ible  and  pulling  themselves  upright.  Billy 
ad  to  be  taught  to  stand  in  a  different  man- 
er. 

Hy  would  tell  him  to  slide  over  to  the 
3uch  or  chair,  show  him  how  to  place  his 
ngers  on  the  seat  for  support,  and  then  push 
is  body  upright.  It  took  lots  of  patience. 
Its  of  encouragement,  but  he  finally  learned 
)  stand  by  himself. 

My  husband  came  home  one  afternoon,  his 
rms  laden  with  books  and  papers.  He  was 
rinning  as  I  opened  the  door  for  him.  I 
sked,  "What  is  all  that? "  My  husband  just 
rinned  more  and  walked  into  the  bedroom 
nd  laid  all  the  material  on  the  bed.  I  was 
ager  to  see  what  this  was  all  about,  but  he 


1.     \     I)     I      I       s  ■  I, 

told  me  to  wail  until  after  the  children  were 
m  bed  and  Iheti  he  would  tell  me 

While  Hy  made  out  his  business  reports  I 
did  Uk  dishes  and  then  sat  down  to  wail  f<,r 
lum,  At  last  he  came  into  the  living  rin.m  and 
started  to  talk: 

"Leona  I  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  main 
Veterans  Adininislralion  building  and  de- 
cided lo  go  talk  to  someone  in  charge  I  had 
no  Idea  what  I  was  seeking  to  l,.;,rii.  1  was 
just  curious  to  browse  around.  I  slopped  at 
the  reception  desk  and  the  man  there  intro- 
duced me  to  the  librarian.  She  was  most  help- 
ful. I  discovered  that  each  stale  hasan  agency 
to  help  the  handicapped.  liesides,  there  are 
many  private  cliarleied  organi/.alions  I 
copied  down  most  of  I  he  names  and  brought 
home  pami)hlets  and  magazines  thai  the 
library  could  spare.  Most  of  these  oiganiza- 
lions  iMibhsh  their  own  monthly  literature. 
Through  Ihem  we  can  get  in  contact  willi 
other  parents  of  handicaijped  children  like 
Billy. 

"Tiie  librarian  suggested  I  go  to  the  public 
library  and  I  spent  the  rest  of  the  afternoon 
there.  I  have  a  list  of  about  seventy-live 
agencies.  It  is  my  opinion  that  we  should 
write  to  all  of  them.  I  believe  that  we  should 
write  the  cards  this  very  evening." 

We  sal  up  till  after  midnight  and  I  de- 
veloped a  severe  cramp  in  one  hand  but  we 
did  write  to  every  single  one  of  them.  We 
wrote  the  same  message  on  all  the  cards: 

Genlkmcn:  I  am  the  mother  of  a  baliy  boy 
who  was  Iwrn  armless.  I  am  eager  for  any  and 
all  information  that  I  can  get.  1  would  like  to 
correspontl  with  other  parents  of  armless  chil- 
dren. Kindly  ])lace  my  name  on  your  mailing 
list.  Your  assistance  will  be  greatly  appreciated. 

I  was  disappointed  when  two  weeks  had 
passed  and  we  had  received  nary  an  answer. 
I  was  certain  the  cards  must  have  gone 
astray.  During  this  period  my  husband  was 
spending  more  ancf  more  time  at  the  library. 
He  was  acquiring  an  impressive  list  of  books 
for  us  to  read.  We  discovered  that  there  were 
many  autobiographies  on  the  subject  of 
polio,  blindness,  deafness,  cerebral  palsy  and 
other  crippling  conditions. 

One  day  when  I  went  to  answer  the  door- 
bell my  mailman  shoved  about  twenty-five 
letters  into  my  arms  with  the  curt  remark, 
"These  are  yours.  They  would  not  go  into 
the  box." 

The  letters  on  the  whole  were  friendly, 
sympathetic  and  genuinely  interested.  We 
began  to  receive  magazines  and  pamphlets. 
We  were  also  told  of  a  number  of  prominent 
armless  persons  of  whom  we  had  never  heard. 

I  began  to  devote  two  and  three  hours  each 
evening  to  answering  letters,  reading  the  ar- 
ticles sent  us  and  trying  to  finish  one  book  a 
week  from  the  library.  I  was  fascinated  with 
the  new  world  that  had  suddenly  opened.  As 
our  correspondence  grew  we  received  this 
letter: 

Jamestown,  North  Dakota 
Dear  Mrs.  Bruckner :  I  am  glad  that  my  name 
was  given  to  you  for  I  shall  be  most  interested  in 
hearing  about  the  progress  of  your  little  boy.  . . . 
A  man  who  is  a  remarkable  example,  one  who 
uses  his  feet  because  he  has  no  arms,  is  Rev. 
Harold  Wilke,  of  Crystal  Lake,  Illinois.  He  was 
a  chaplain  for  several  years  and  now  is  serving 
a  church  while  he  is  working  on  his  Ph.D.  de- 
gree. He  is  married,  has  three  children.  Perhaps 
you  have  already  written  to  him,  but  if  not,  I'd 
suggest  him  as  the  best  person  you  can  find  for 
practical  help.  Sincerely, 
Anne  H.  Carlsen 

We  began  at  once  a  correspondence  with 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Wilke. 

One  April  morning  my  husband  and  I  were 
awakened  by  the  ringing  of  our  doorbell.  It 
was  a  mailman  with  a  special-delivery  letter 
from  the  Reverend  Harold  Wilke.  He  was 
due  to  give  a  lecture  not  far  away  and  wanted 
to  stop  to  visit  us. 

We  were  excited  and  happy  over  the  pros- 
pect of  meeting  this  man  with  whom  we  had 
been  corresponding. 

It  was  almost  eight  o'clock  when  we  heard 
his  ring  at  the  door.  Hy  went  to  open  the 
door  while  I  waited  with  the  children.  My 
first  emotion  was  that  of  absolute  amaze- 
ment. I  saw  not  the  man  himself  but  the 


I    1 1 


fairly  large  suilcate  Hlrapjx-d  to  «houldn 
My  husband  made  an  attempt  lo  help  hiin 
lift  It  from  Ins  shouldi-rs,  bul  he  wa*  liriii  in 
Ins  refu«il.  "Thank  you.  but  I  am  (juiU;  able 
to  manage  it  by  myself." 

He  was  quite  tall,  slim  Inil  well  ' 
dressed  in  a  rlark  blue  business  suit  1 1 
was  noi  haiidvime  bul  it  had  gin. ' 
He  had  much  digniiy  and  Ins  bl 
mine  frankly.  'I'lie  sleeves  of  his  mui  j.i.  i..  i 
were  unaltered,  bul  s»  i  Mu-d  lo  b«.-  neatly  sewn 
to  ihe  |y)cki  is.  He  wore  brown  loafcr-ly|)c 
sIkm's  without  laces. 

He  introduced  liims<-lf  and  iminwliaiely 
began  to  center  his  alteniifm  on  Ixilh  chil- 
dren. He  was  watching  Hilly  bul  talking  lo 
Karen,  His  maiiiier  was  friendly,  and  com- 
|)lelely  at  ease.  I  knew  instantly  that  this 
man  and  our  family  would  iK-come  fast 
friends. 

When  dinner  was  over  he  c-illed  Karen  i 
sil  in  his  lap  and  lold  her  al»iil  Ins  famil 
and  asked  her  alxMil  herself.  As:i  result,  wlm. 
he  (inally  did  lake  Hilly  into  Ihis  charmed 
circle,  she  did  not  resent  it. 

w  IC  did  not  have  time  for  |XTsonal  conver- 
sation until  the  children  were  in  Ix'd.  First 
Harold  asked  (|ueslions  alxiul  Hilly.  We  told 
him  Ihe  story  of  his  life  and  hv  listened  with 
interest.  He  went  on  lo  ex|)lain.  "When 
World  War  Two  broke  out  I  volunteered  for 
service  in  the  armed  forces.  An  exception  was 
made  so  that  I  did  not  have  to  wear  a  uni- 
form. I  worked  with  mentally  and  emo- 
tionally upset  men.  So  many  men  were  mis- 
fits because  they  had  lived  unhappy  child- 
hoods. Men  who  may  have  been  given  the 
comforts  that  money  can  purchase  but  not 
the  love  that  is  due  every  child." 

He  was  the  second  of  three  Ixjys  bom  to  his 
parents  and,  as  far  as  he  could  discover,  the 
only  armless  member  of  the  family.  His  par- 
ents were  farmers  and  he  lived  a  full,  happy 
life  doing  all  the  allotted  tasks  of  any  farm 
boy.  He  took  pride  telling  us  he  had  lo  walk 
a  mile  to  reach  the  public  school.  He  admitted 
with  some  modesty  that  he  swam  well  and 
could  stay  in  the  water  for  hours  at  a  time. 
He  had  his  first  date  with  a  girl  during  high 
school  and  it  was  the  usual  experience  of  any 
young  schoolboy.  The  date  had  been  to  a 
school  dance  with  one  of  the  local  girls  he  had 
grown  up  with.  He  said  he  danced  but  did 
not  especially  care  for  it.  He  owned  and  op- 
erated a  car  and  had  a  regular  license  to 
drive. 

He  mused  aloud,  "I  do  everything  that 
any  other  family  man  would  attend  to 
around  a  home."  He  looked  down  at  his  feet 
and  grinned  boyishly.  "My  feet  are  still 
spotted  with  blue  paint.  I  painted  the  baby's 
crib  a  few  weeks  back.  Oh,  yes,  I  do  all  my 
own  painting,  all  the  repairing,  t<x),  putting 
up  screens  and  storm  windows.  I  am  fortu- 
nate that  I  have  more  time  to  myself  than  the 
average  man  does.  I  have  a  small  congrega- 
tion, and  in  addition  to  my  duties  as  pastor  of 
the  church,  I  am  available  for  lectures.  I 
have  an  agreement  with  my  congregation 
that  I  be  permitted  to  aid  and  counsel  the 
crippled  whenever  I  am  called  upon  to  do  so." 

Hy  asked  him  more  about  his  family.  He 
told  us  he  has  three  sons,  the  youngest  just 
an  infant.  The  children  are  all  normal  and 
healthy.  He  produced  some  snapshots  of  his 
family  and  they  were  all  handsome  young- 
sters. 

My  husband  asked,   "WTien  did  you 
marry?" 

He  replied,  "I  met  my  wife  when  I  was 
going  to  college.  She  became  a  social  worker 
and  I  went  into  a  theological  seminary.  We 
married  when  I  was  twenty-five  years  old." 

My  huband  inquired  again,  "  Did  your  in- 
laws have  any  objections  to  their  daughter 
marrying  you?" 

"At  the  beginning  they  did,  although  I  do 
not  believe  their  objection  was  based  on  the 
fact  that  I  was  armless.  They  objected  to  me 
in  the  same  manner  they  would  object  to  any 
of  their  daughter's  suitors.  You  know  parents 
want  the  best  for  their  children  and  som.e- 
times  are  extremely  critical.  I  am  now  mar- 
ried thirteen  years  and  my  in-laws  and  my- 
self are  the  best  of  friends." 

My  husband  wanted  to  know  if  his  chil- 
dren ever  questioned  him  about  his  lack  of 


see 


Li};ht  on  your  foot 
. .  .  Hght  on  your 
pocketbook,  too! 


795 


for  ttie  store  nearest  you,  \rrlte: 
PETERS  SHOE  COMPANY,  SAINT  LOUIS 


102 


LADIES'       HOME       J  OUKNAL 


January,  1953 


arms.  He  answered,  "No.  They  never  have 
occasion  to  say  that  their  father  cannot  do 
something.  It  is  always  that  their  father  does 
that  differently.  I  think  they  are  happy,  un- 
inhibited youngsters." 

There  was  nothing  about  this  man  to  pity. 
His  zest  for  living  was  an  inspiration.  For  us 
it  had  been  a  rich  and  satisfying  experience. 
»■  ^■ 

We  had  not  been  back  to  the  Kessler  In- 
stitute since  that  first  time  when  Billy  was 
six  months  old.  Then  we  received  an  invita- 
tion to  come  to  the  institute  to  attend  a  con- 
genital-amputee clinic.  We  were  informed 
that  it  would  be  an  entire-day  clinic. 

Upon  arrival  we  were  surprised  to  see  cars 
with  license  plates  representing  many  states. 
We  did  not  know  that  there  would  be  many 
leading  doctors,  educators,  orthopedic  sur- 
geons and  physical  and  occupational  thera- 
pists who  would  attend,  besides  parents  with 
handicapped  children. 

After  we  had  checked  in  with  the  recep- 
tionist we  were  told  to  leave  Billy  with  the 
other  children  in  the  playroom.  When  we 
entered  we  were  surprised  to  see  about  thirty 
children  of  various  ages  playing.  Our  son  was 
so  eager  to  get  to  the  toys  scattered  about 
that  he  did  not  even  notice  our  exit. 

We  were  told  to  go  to  the  auditorium  to 
attend  the  lectures.  At  noon  mothers  were  to 
come  back  to  the  playroom  to  supervise  their 
own  child's  lunch. 

When  we  entered  the  auditorium  it  was 
filled.  Doctor  Kessler  was  addressing  the  as- 
semblage, talking  of  the  superstitions  and 
fears  connected  with  birth  abnormalities. 
Not  only  backward  countries  are  inclined  to 
believe  such  nonsense,  but  our  own  civilized 
people  as  well.  Doctor  Kessler  concluded 
with  stories  of  some  of  the  veterans  of  the 
European  war.  Then  he  introduced  his  first 
speaker. 

Dr.  M.  was  a  professor  at  one  of  the  lead- 
ing medical  schools.  He  had  made  an  exten- 
sive study  of  a  series  of  families  in  which  one 
child  at  least  had  a  birth  deformity.  It  was 
concluded  from  this  study  that  most  con- 
genital defects  do  not  derive  from  parental 
illness  or  accident.  The  evidence  seemed  to 
indicate  that  the  factor  or  factors  which 
cause  congenital  aljnbrmalities  are  present  in 
the  reproductive  cells  of  either  the  mother  or 
the  father  before  the  child  is  even  conceived. 

When  his  lecture  was  over  he  gave  the 
audience  an  opportimity  to  ask  any  ques- 
tions they  might  like  to  have  answered.  Both 


my  husband  and  I  wanted  to  ask  him  if  we 
should  have  another  child,  but  we  were 
abashed  before  such  a  large  audience.  I  could 
not  stay  for  the  entire  discussion,  as  it  was 
almost  noon  and  I  was  anxious  to  see  how  my 
son  was  getting  along. 

Billy  was  so  occupied  with  toys  that  he  did 
not  seem  aware  of  my  entrance.  I  looked 
around  the  room,  trying  to  find  a  child  with  a 
defect  similar  to  Billy's.  I  became  aware  of 
someone  staring  at  me  and  when  I  turned  I 
saw  a  handsome  blond  boy  of  about  ten  years 
furtively  watching  me. 

My  eyes  naturally  dropped  to  his  body.  I 
saw  the  sewed  sleeveless  white  shirt  and 
knew  he,  too,  must  be  armless.  His  legs 
seemed  to  be  normal.  He  was  pedaling  away 
at  a  stationary  bicycle  and  as  soon  as  I 
smiled  at  him  he  turned  his  head.  He  did  not 
smile  and  I  wondered  whether  he  was  just 
shy  or  resented  my  staring. 

Most  of  the  mothers  had  now  come  into 
the  dining  room.  They  were  seating  them- 
selves, ready  to  assist  their  children  with 
their  lunch.  I  picked  up  the  protesting  Billy 
and  sat  him  on  my  lap.  He  was  hungry  and  so 
he  ate  well. 

I  could  now  associate  the  individual  chil- 
dren with  their  mothers,  as  they  were  seated 
next  to  them.  Only  the  ten-year-old  boy 
seemed  to  be  sitting  by  himself.  All  at  once  he 
caught  my  glance  and  I  flushed  in  embar- 
rassment. This  was  the  second  time  he  had 
caught  me  staring  at  him. 

When  lunch  was  over  I  sat  waiting  for  my 
husband  to  come  for  me.  I  noticed  a  tall,  at- 
tractive woman  come  into  the  room  and 
speak  to  the  boy  who  had  snubbed  me.  After 
a  short  conversation  she  sat  down  near  me.  I 
put  my  son  on  the  floor  to  play  and  spoke  to 
her.  "I  have  been  watching  your  son.  He  is 
an  attractive  boy." 

She  answered,  "Yes,  Martin  is  a  good- 
looking  boy,  but  he  is  not  my  son." 

I  was  puzzled  and  did  not  hesitate  to  ask, 
"Are  you  a  relative  of  his?" 

She  answered,  "No.  I  am  a  social-service 
worker  handling  Martin's  case." 

I  knew  it  was  not  polite  to  pursue  the  sub- 
ject, but  I  felt  I  had  to  know.  "Are  his  par- 
ents dead?" 

The  woman,  glanced  where  Martin  was 
playing,  obviously  unaware  of  the  conversa- 
tion. She  continued  in  a  low  voice,  "Martin 
lives  in  a  homeless-boys'  institution.  His  par- 
ents are  alive  but  live  in  a  different  state." 

I  was  shocked  and  fumbled  for  words.  "  I 
know  it  is  not  polite  to  ask  personal  ques- 


*  Just  think  ...  in  a  couple  of  years 
they'll  all  be  driving  automobiles." 


tions  but  you  see  I,  too,  have  an  armless 
baby." 

What  she  saw  mirrored  on  my  face  must 
have  reassured  her  because  she  continued 
speaking: 

"Martin  was  the  fourth  child  bom  to 
his  parents,  who  are  rather  successful 
Middle  West  farmers.  I  guess  his  condition 
was  too  great  a  shock  for  them,  so  they  solved 
the  problem  by  giving  him  into  the  care  of 
this  institution  soon  after  his  birth.  For  six 
years  they  provided  for  him  financially  but 
never  wrote  or  acknowledged  themselves  as 
his  parents.  I  guess  their  consciences  began  to 
bother  them,  so  for  the  past  few  years  they 
started  to  correspond  with  him.  They  also 
started  sending  him  gifts  and  visiting 
him.  About  a  year  ago  he  went  home  for 
a  short  visit.  I  do  not  think,  though,  that 
they  will  want  him  to  come  back  home  to 
live." 

I  had  not  said  one  word  while  she  spoke, 
and  now  I  could  only  look  at  her  with  anguish 
in  my  eyes.  I  was  reliving  our  own  experi- 
ence after  Billy's  birth.  I  was  remembering 
how  we,  too,  had  rejected  our  son.  I  silently 
said  a  word  of  thanks  for  our  courage  in  ad- 
mitting our  error  and  taking  him  home.  I  felt 
compassion  for  his  parents;  more  sympathy 
for  Martin.  He  could  very  well  have  been  our 
child  and  we  could  now  be  in  the  agony  those 
parents  were  living  through. 

I  looked  at  the  boy,  Martin.  I  could  see 
the  bitterness  beneath  his  mask  of  scorn.  I 
fervently  wished  that  I  could  visit  his  par- 
ents and  show  them  our  son.  How  many  are 
the  parents  who  in  fright  abandoned  their 
child,  and  then  did  not  possess  the  courage  to 
admit  they  had  made  a  mistake?  I  wanted  to 
reach  out  to  them  and  show  them  how  they 
could  find  peace  and  happiness.  I  wanted  to 
put  my  arms  around  this  boy  and  tell  him 
not  to  be  bitter,  not  to  hate,  to  have  faith, 
and  someday  he,  too,  would  know  the  joy  of 
being  loved  and  wanted.  J  did  not  dare  say  a 
word,  I  could  not.  I  closed  my  eyes  and 
whispered  a  prayer  to  God  to  be  kind  to  this 
boy. 

Today,  at  two  and  a  half  years,  our  Billy 
has  so  many  adorable  accomplishments  that 
I  could  not  begin  to  list  all  of  them  here.  He 
can  turn  a  perfect  somersault  without  any 
assistance.  He  can  also  do  it  in  reverse,  by 
lying  flat  on  the  ground  and  turning  his  legs 
under  his  head  until  he  is  able  to  stand  up. 
He  is  learning  to  dress  and  undress  himself. 
He  will  sit  for  an  hour  trying  to  put  on  one 
sock.  He  is  so  energetic  and  agile  that  he  will 
try  anything  regardless  of  danger.  He  sings 
beautifully,  and  can  carry  a  tune  remarkably 
well.  And,  of  course,  he  talks. 

Not  long  ago,  when  I  was  undressing  him 
I  heard  something  I  had  not  expected  so 
soon.  "This  good  little  hand,"  he  said,  "this 
broken  hand."  As  he  spoke  he  indicated  his 
right  side  and  his  left  side.  I  called  Hy  into 
the  room  and  asked  Billy  to  repeat  what  he 
had  said.  He  did,  and  there  was  no  mistaking 
his  meaning.  Billy  was  aware  that  he  was  able 
to  use  his  three  right  fingers  and  that  was  his 
"good  hand."  The  other  fingers,  which  he 
could  not  see  as  they  are  too  close  to  the  side 
of  his  body,  are  incomplete,  and  this  was  his 
"broken  hand."  My  husband  and  I  looked  at 
each  other  without  a  word.  I  could  not  speak 
for  the  lump  in  my  throat. 

Billy  knows  and  accepts  the  fact  that  he  is 
different.  We  do  not  avoid  discussing  his  lack 
of  arms  in  his  presence.  We  treat  the  subject 
casually,  in  a  normal  tone  of  voice.  And 
Billy  knows  that  others— indeed,  all  of  us— 
are  different  too.  Recently,  when  our  dear 
friend.  Dr.  Arthur  Abramson,  visited  us)in'his 
wheel  chair,  Billy  asked,  "Why  does  he  just 
sit  in  that  chair?" 

"Doctor  Abramson  can't  walk,"  I  ex- 
plained. "His  legs  are  bad— he  is  handicapped 
as  Billy  is,  only  Billy  has  no  hands." 

"I  have  this  good  little  hand,"  Billy  in- 
sisted. But  he  gazed  at  the  smiling  doctor  a 
moment  in  perfect  wonder  and  acceptance. 
Then,  with  just  a  flash  of  his  heart-penetrat- 
ing grin,  Billy  repeated  solemnly,  "Doctor 
Abramson  can't  walk"— and  whirled  away 
through  the  house  on  his  good  little  legs. 

THE  END 


at  these  and  other  fine  stores 


ALABAMA 

Burger-Phillips,  Birmingham 
Loveman's.  Birmingham 
Pizitz  D.  G-  Co.,  Birmingham 
C.  J.  Gayfer  &  Co.,  IVIobile 
Montgomery  Fair,  IVIontgomery 

ARIZONA 

Korricl^'s  Inc.,  Phoenix 
Jacome's  Dept.  Store  Int.,  Tucson 

ARKANSAS 

The  Fabric  Centre,  EI  Dorado 
Gus  Blass  Co  ,  Little  Rock 
The  Fabric  Centre,  Little  Rock 

CALIFORNIA 

The  Broadway,  Crenshaw 
Reinie's  Inc.,  Glendale 
The  Broadway,  Hollywood 
Alpert's  Yardstick  Stores, 

Long  Beach 
Buffums',  Long  Beach 
Alpert's  Yardstick  Stores, 

Los  Angeles 
The  Broadway,  Los  Angeles 
H.  C.  Capwell  Co.,  Oakland 
Alpert's  Yardstick  Stores, 

Pasadena 
The  Broadway,  Pasadena 
The  Emporium,  San  Francisco 
Macy's  San  Francisco, 

San  Francisco 
The  White  House  (Raphael  Weill 

&  Co.),  San  Francisco 
Hale's,  San  Jose 
Alpert's  Yardstick  Stores, 

Santa  Ana 
Buffums',  Santa  Ana 
Alpert's  Yardstick  Stores, 

Van  Nuys 
The  Broadway,  Westchester 

COLORADO 

The  Denver  Dry  Goods  Co  ,  Denver 

CONNECTICUT 

Sage-Allen  &  Co.,  Hartford 

The  Edward  Malley  Co.,  New  Haven 

DIST.  OF  COLUMBIA 

The  Hecht  Co.,  Washington,  D.  C. 
Lansburgh  &  Bros  , 

Washington,  0.  C 
Woodward  &  Lothrop. 

Washington,  D.  C 

FLORIDA 

Yowell-Drew-lvey,  Daytona  Beach 
Phelps  &  Co.,  Jacksonville 
Burdine's,  Inc  ,  Miami 
The  Hub.  Miami 
Gilberg's,  Pensacola 
Gilberg's,  Tallahassee 
Essrig's,  Tampa 
Little  Katz,  YborCity 

GEORGIA 

Gilberg's,  Albany 
Rich's  Inc.,  Atlanta 
J.  B.  White  Co.,  Augusta 
J.  A.  Kirven,  Columbus 

ILLINOIS 

The  Fair,  Chicago 

P.  A.  Bergner  &  Co  ,  Peoria 

Westenberger's,  SpringField 

INDIANA 

Wolf  &  Dessauer  Co.,  Fort  Wayne 
H.  Gordon  &  Sons,  Gary 
L.  S.  Ayres  &  Co.,  Inc., 
Indianapolis 

IOWA 

M.  L.  Parker  Co.,  Davenport 
Younker  Bros.,  Inc..  Des  Moines 
Younker-Davidsons,  Sioux  City 

KANSAS 

Wiley  D.  G.  Co  ,  Hutchinson 
Buck's,  Inc..  Wichita 

KENTUCKY 

Purcell's,  Lexington 
Wolf-Wile,  Lexington 
Miles  Silk  Shop,  Louisville 

LOUISIANA 

0.  H.  Holmes  Co  Ltd  ,  New  Orleans 
MARYLAND 

Hochschild,  Kohn  &  Co.,  Baltimore 
The  Hecht  Co.,  Silver  Spripgs 

MASSACHUSETTS 

Jordan  Marsh  Co.,  Boston 
Thresher  Fabrics,  Boston 
Forbes  &  Wallace,  Springfield 

MICHIGAN 

J.  L.  Hudson  Co.,  Detroit 
Martin  Dry  Goods  Co  ,  Flint 
Wurzburg  Bros.,  Grand  Rapids 

MINNESOTA 

The  Dayton  Co.,  Minneapolis 
Powers  D  G.  Co.,  Minneapolis 
Schuneman's,  Inc.,  St.  Paul 


MISSISSIPPI 

Fine  Bros.-Matison  Co., 

Hattiesburg 
Fine  Bros.-Matison  Co..  Laurel 

MISSOURI 

Neate's,  Columbia 
Macy's  Kansas  City.  Kansas  City 
Heer's,  Inc.,  Springfield 
Levy  Wolfe,  Springfield 
Townsend  &  Wall  Co.,  St.  Joseph 
Stix,  Baer  &  Fuller  Co.,  St.  Louis 

MONTANA 

F.  A.  Buttrey  Co., 
Billings 
Cut-Bank 
Glasgow 
Havre 
Kalispell 

NEBRASKA 

Gold  &  Co.,  Lincoln 
J.  L.  Brandeis  &  Sons,  Omaha 

NEW  JERSEY 

L.  Bamberger  &  Co.,  Newark 
Hahne  &  Co.,  Newark 
Meyer  Bros.,  Paterson 

NEW  YORK  CITY 

Abraham  &  Straus,  Brooklyn 
B.  Gertz,  Inc.,  Flushing 
Abraham  &  Straus,  Hempstead 
B.  Gertz,  Inc.,  Jamaica 
Bloomingdale's,  New  York 
James  McCreery  &  Co.,  New  York 
John  Wananiaker,  New  York 

NEW  YORK  STATE 

Fowler.  Dick  S  Walker,  Binghamtr 
J.  N.  Adam  &  Co.,  Buffalo 
Wm.,Hengerer  Co.,  Buffalo 
Sibley,  Lindsay  &  Curr  Co., 

Rochester 
Dey  Bros.  &  Co.,  Syracuse 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

J.  B,  Ivey  Co.,  Charlotte 

OHIO 

M.  O'Neil  Co.,  Akron 

The  John  Shillito  Co.,  Cincinnati 

Higbee  Company,  Cleveland 

May  Company,  Cleveland 

F  &  R  Lazarus  Co.,  Columbus 

Rike-Kumler  Co.,  Dayton 

Gregg's,  Inc.,  Lima 

Lion  Dry  Goods  Co.,  Toledo 

Strouss  Hirshberg  Co.,  Youngstoi 

OKLAHOMA  | 

J.  A.  Brown  Co.,  Oklahoma  City  '|a 
Vandever  D.  G.  Co.,  Tulsa 


OREGON 

Meier  &  Frank  Co  ,  Portland 

PENNSYLVANIA 

The  Troutman  Co.,  Connellsville 
Erie  D  G.  Co.,  Erie 
Gimbel  Bros.,  Philadelphia 
John  Wanamaker,  Philadelphia 
Joseph  Home  Co.,  Pittsburgh 
Cleland  Simpson  Co..  Scranton 
Fowler,  Dick  &  Walker, 
Wilkes-Barre 

RHODE  ISLAND 

Shepard  Co.,  Providence 

SOUTH  CAROLINA 

James  L.  Tapp  Co.,  Columbia 

TENNESSEE 

Miller  Bros.  Co.,  Chattanooga 
Miller's,  Inc.,  Knoxville 
J.  Goldsmith  &  Sons,  Memphis 
The  Harvey  Co.,  Nashville 

TEXAS 

The  Fair,  Beaumont 

W.  A.  Green  Co.,  Dallas 

A.  Harris  &  Co.,  Dallas 

Sanger  Bros.  Dept.  Store,  Dallas 

Felix  Brunschwig  &  Co.,  El  Paso 

Stripling's,  Fort  Worth 

Robert  I.  Cohen,  Inc.,  Galveston 

UTAH 

The  Pans  Co.,  Salt  Lake  City 

VIRGINIA 

The  Hecht  Co.,  Arlington 
Thalhimer's,  Richmond 

WASHINGTON 

Frederick  &  Nelson,  Seattle 
The  Crescent,  Spokane 
Rhodes  Bros.,  Tacoma 

WISCONSIN 

H.  C.  Prange  Co.,  Appleton 
H.  C.  Prange  Co.,  Green  Bay 
Harry  S.  Manchester,  Inc.,  Madi 
Schuster's,  Milwaukee 
H.  C.  Prange  Co.,  Sheboygan 


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Our  readers  write  its  such 
thought  -provoking  letters  that  frequently 
we  feel  they  should  be  shared  in  fuller 
form  than  ordinary  limitations  of 
space  will  permit.  This  month  we  yield  to 
temptation  to  give  you  ttvo  letters — 
one  from  India,  one  from  Australia — 
on  a  subject  of  such  grave 
importance  that  it  demantls  the  special 
consitieration  of  all  of  us. 

Knowing  that  most  of  the  power  these 
correspontlents  seem  to  ascribe  to  us, 
as  e€litors,  belongs  in  fact  to  you, 
as  reatlers,  we  print  these  letters  with  little 
comment — except  to  say  that, 
perhaps  contrary  to  what  might  be  inferred 
from  them,  honest  and  free  Journalism 
in  the  Vnitetl  States  is  commonplace, 
not  only  in  the  JOURNAL 
but  in  all  responsible  publications. 

Our  American  readers  share  through  the 
JOURNAL  their  influence  and 
their  tlreams  with  others  in  all  parts  of  the 
free  world.  It  is  a  humbling  and  prideful 
kinship.  We  wish,  indeed,  there  were 
no  artificial  or  technical  barriers 
to  making  the  JOURNAL  available  to  all 
people  the  world  over. 

—The  EaUora 


Neiv  Delhi,  India 
Dear  Editors:  You  are  the  editors  of  one 
of  the  most  influential  women's  periodicals 
in  the  world.  Others  say  it  and  I  believe  it. 
For  this  reason  I  write  in  desperate  earnest- 
ness. You  can  help  Americans  and  their 
allies  to  see  the  truth.  You  can  help  save 
Asia. 

We  are  losing  Asia  and  Africa  at  an  appall- 
ing rate.  Chizia  was  lost  to  the  communists 
the  past  four  years;  all  Asia  may  go  the 
next  four  years.  Why  is  Asia  capitulating? 
Hunger,  destitution,  misery,  disease,  debt, 
despair — these  make  perfect  soil  for  the 
communist  seeds  of  blind  hate  and  false 
promises.  The  illiterate  two  thirds  of  the 
human  race  at  the  bottom,  with  whom  I 
live  and  work,  formerly  submitted  in  sullen 
silence.  They  submit  no  longer.  They  say, 
"We  have  been  hungry  long  enough."  They 
reach  up  a  hand,  asking,  "Who  will  help 
us?"  Anybody  who  offers  to  take  that  hand 
can  have  them,  even  if  he  lies.  They  are  the 
easiest  people  on  earth  to  win  as  friends — 
easy  for  us,  equally  easy  for  the  communists. 
The  communists  promise  to  lift  them,  be- 
cause they  want  to  enslave  them.  We  largely 
ignore  them. 

I  am  one  of  the  relatively  few  spokesmen 
from  the  West  for  these  people  who  are  be- 
ing neglected  by  us  and  deceived  by  the 
communists.  I  believe  that  if  the  communists 
succeed  in  winning  and  regimenting  this 
two  thirds  as  they  are  doing  in  the  satellite 
countries  now,  we  shall  be  enslaved,  and 
you  and  I  shall  be  shot.  They  can  be  whipped 
into  mad  hate  and  they  can  be  taught  to 
shoot.  They  are  two  thirds  of  the  human 
race.  Whether  they  become  communists  or 
our  friends  in  the  next  four  years  depends 
upon  you  and  others  like  you. 

Now  I  am  numb  with  the  awfulness  of 
this  peril.  1  feel  lonesome,  for  hardly  any- 
body I  meet  sees  this  as  clearly  as  1  see  it. 
We  labor  under  a  big  handicap — Europe's 
history.  The  white  men  have  exploited  the 
Asiatic  masses  and  are  still  exploiting  the 
misery  of  Africans.  Many  white  men  cling 
to  their  exploitation  until  they  are  forced  to 
let  go.  Too  many  facts,  past  and  present, 
give  the  lie  to  our  statement  that  we  are 
now  interested  unselfishly  in  helping  people 
out  of  hunger. 

Only  deeds  can  prove  we  are  Asia's  friends, 
and  that  the  communists  are  lying.  Words 
alone  will  not.  With  deeds  we  can  win.  We 
have  the  resources,  the  skills — and  the 
Christian  teachings. 

Is  hunger  the  great  enemy?  We  must  help 
them  produce  more  food.  Is  disease  the 
great  enemy?  We  must  teach  them  how  to 
keep  well.  Is  ignorance  blocking  progress? 
We  must  teach  them  to  read  what  will  help 
them  progress. 

A  program  of  helpfulness  has  a  great  ad- 
vantage over  the  (Continued  on  Page  106} 


Victoria,  Australia 
Dear  Editors:  We've  just  had  a  visit  from 
your  great  folk  singer.  Burl  Ives  (by  "we," 
I  mean  Australia).  My  husband  and  I  were 
entranced.  We  think  that  Mr.  Ives  is  a 
great  and  likable  personality.  But  we  were 
sorry  about  one  thing.  Just  before  he  left 
to  return  to  America,  Mr.  Ives  confided  to 
an  acquaintance  that  the  only  thing  which 
had  saddened  him  about  his  trip  to  Aus- 
tralia was  the  dislike  he  found  here  for 
America. 

I  think  it's  important  to  note  that  Mr. 
Ives  said  dislike  of  America,  not  dislike  of 
Americans.  I  wonder  if  this  dislike  of  your 
country  really  exists,  here  and  in  other 
parts  of  the  world,  and  if  it  does  exist,  what 
has  caused  it?  I  took  a  one-woman  poll 
among  my  friends  and  what  1  found  sur- 
prised me.  People  here  have  diff"erent 
opinions  about  America,  the  country,  and 
Americans,  the  people.  If  you  ask  them  if 
they  like  Americans,  they're  quite  sincere 
when  they  say  "Yes."  But  when  you  ask 
them,  "What  do  you  think  of  America?" 
the  answer  isn't  so  flattering. 

It's  difficult  to  understand  this  liking  for 
the  Americans  as  people  among  those  who 
dislike  America  as  a  nation — in  spite  of 
what  she  has  done  for  the  rest  of  the  world. 
The  trouble  is,  1  believe,  that  people  here 
just  can't  understand  what  goes  on  in 
America.  American  films,  novels  and  mag- 
azines have  hammered  home  for  so  long 
that  America  is  the  land  of  the  brave  and 
the  free.  But  as  far  as  most  people  can 
learn  here,  it  doesn't  seem  to  be  the  land 
of  the  free  any  more,  and  a  lot  of  the 
brave  are  keeping  quiet  in  case  they  attract 
the  attention  of  Senator  McCarthy,  who, 
I  gather,  brands  as  traitor  anyone  who  dis- 
agrees with  him. 

Among  exceptions  to  this  are  yourselves 
and  those  who  write  for  the  Journal.  What 
makes  us  sure  that  things  can't  be  as  bad  in 
America  as  one  would  gather  from  news- 
paper reports  is  that  which  we  read  every 
month  in  the  Ladies'  Home  Journal.  Apart 
from  your  articles,  there  are  the  letters 
from  your  readers.  We  feel  that  the  people 
who  write  these  letters  are  the  kind  of 
people  who  make  up  America.  And  we  feel 
that  while  your  people  display  so  much 
common  sense  and  decency  and  tolerance 
there  is  not  much  that  can  go  wrong 
with  your  country. 

The  fact  that  America  seems  to  be  dis- 
liked in  other  countries  is,  I  think,  because 
of  downright  bad  public  relations — which 
is  rather  ironic,  America  being  the  origina- 
tor and  greatest  exponent  of  public  rela- 
tions. Your  State  Department,  through  its 
overseas  information  offices,  makes  a  very 
poor  job  of  the  task  of  selling  America 
overseas.  It's  fortunate  indeed  that  there  are 
magazines  like  (Continued  on  Page  111) 


14  cup  diced  beels  50 

14  head  lettuce— no-calorie  dressing*  .  15 

2  vanilla  wafers  40 

Coffee  or  tea  

:T45 

Tntal  1'alurlfm  tur  Uan—»:i7 
Friilnv 

Hreakfast 

Yi  cup  ix)pi)ed  rice  50 

cup  skim  milk  44 

Coffee  or  tea  

"94 

Lunch 

1  cup  celery  soup  90 

2  soda  crackers  50 

Prune-and-cottaKe-clieese  salad 

(2  prunes,  50;  J^j  cup  collage 
cheese,  80;  2  letluce  leaves,  5)  .  .  135 
CofTee  or  lea  

275 

DiNNKR 

1  large  piece  broiled  cod  wilh  lemon  .  100 

cup  peas  and  carrots  75 

Tomato-and-lettuce  salad  wilh 

no-calorie  dressing*  40 

1  slice  rye  bread,  lightly  buttered  .  .  100 

1  small  serving;  lime  sherbet  100 

ColTee  or  tea  

415 

Evening  Snack 

Banana  100 

Tttlal  1'uhtrlfH  for  Ittiv—tttt/ 

^ii<ur«lnv 

Bkkakfast 
Scrambled  egg  (1  tsp.  butler)    .  . 
1  slice  whole-wheat  toast,  lightly 

buttered  

Doffee  or  tea  


100 
100 

206 
Lunch 

salmon  salad  ('  2  cup  salmon,  100; 

2  pieces  chopped  celery,  10; 

small  onion,  7)  117 

2  pieces  Melba  toast  40 

cup  boiled  custard  130 

Zoffee  or  tea  

287 

Dinner 

Jroiled  T-bone  steak— small  (seasoned 

with  garlic)  300 

iaked  potato— 1  pat  butter  125 

4  cup  cabbage-and-<^reen-pepper  slaw.  20 
!^hilled  ambrosia  ('4  grapefruit,  50; 

^2  orange,  40;  1  tbsp.  coconut,  25)  115 

560 

Total  ValnrifH  tnr  Itaii—IO  17 


iunday 

Breakfast 
8-oz.  glass  orange  juice  135 

1  slice  whole-wheat  toast,  lightly 

buttered  100 

bffee  or  tea  

235 

Dinner 

2  large  pieces  baked  chicken    ....  300 

laked  sweet  potato- small  200 

2  tbsps.  corn  30 

hredded-carrot  salad  40 

1  slice  angel  cake  100 

2  cup  fruit-cocktail  sauce  75 

bffee  or  tea  

745 

Evening  Snack 

ear  50 

l-oz.  glass  skim  milk  88 

138 

Total  ralnrt«'m  tnr  nati—iiltt 

THIRU  WKKIi  OF  ]»IENUS 
londay 

Breakfast  Co/«n>s 

!  grapefruit  100 

)ft-boiled  egg  70 

!  pieces  Melba  toast  40 

offee  or  tea  

210 


'It, 


I  'tlill  t  tilurlfm  litr  Ittiu  1171 


VM 

2<J0 
30 
lOU 

75 
75 
2(J 


"     '     '      ^  M  M     ,         J  I      U     N     ^  ,, 

Homemade  vegetable  soup*   large  b<wl -'00     .       .     .  ' 
2ryewaler8.  .  "^kl  «wi  .uu      |  cup  hoi  l».-ef  hy,.,.ll.,n  -., 

5  apricot  halves  V«  Kt  iahle  »;ilad  ' 

8-oz.  glass  skim  milk  uu  liard-lxulcd 

__  :«J;  1  lUp.  iiM>uim.iiiic,  luo/  . 

n.NiM.^..  /  ■  t       vanilla  tuHtard 

Dinner  (pressure  axiked)  Coffee  .,r  u-a 

2  large  slices  beef  heart  wilh  . 

horse-radish  sauce  (thicken  '  cuo 
broth  with  '  2  tsp.  Hour  and  add  2 

tbsp.  horse-radish   .    .  .50)  I-ean  »X)iled  ham    2  ulictn 

2  small  carrots   1  cup  Ix.iled  cablwRe. 

■i  cup  steamed  celery   y^,      1  nlice  rye  bread.  Iighlly  bullm-d 

1  slice  rye  bread,  lightly  buttered  .      UK)     ■'>  ''•i«'l<H  nlulfc-ij  celery  (with  cottaKf 

'  j  cup  custard   i;^,,  cheette)  

oTi     ^  jx-'ch  halven  and  juice 
roHiH  atnri4-m  fur  it„u-li:iit  Vanilla  wafer. 

Coffee  or  lea .  . 

Tu«'N4la> 

liKICAKFAST 
Sliced  orange   ^^() 

1  slice  wiiole-wheal  toast,  lightly 

buttered                             .  .  100 
8-oz.  glass  skim  milk  .   ^8 

Lunch 

Hot  tomato  juice    4-oz.  glass  ....  30 
Salad  plate  (4  tbsps.  cottage  cheese,  80; 

hard-boiled  egg.  70;  green  pepper, 

20;  lettuce.  10,  no-calorie 

dressing*)  jgo 

2  rye  wafers  gO 

2  pear  halves,  in  juice  50 

Coffee  or  tea  \  ] 

320 

Dinner 

2  small  slices  pot  roast  200 

Baked  potato  -medium,  '  i  pal  butter  125 

1  cup  steamed  carrots  and  onions  .  .  100 
}  2  cup  lemon  gelatin,  wiiipped  ....  100 
Coffee  or  tea  

.525 

Total  t'alorlt'M  tor  ltav—lli:i 


(>■■.. 
Coflcc  tn  tea 


liMI'.AKi'AST 


TliurMtlnv 


Bkkakfast 


I  i  cup  ix)p|x'd  rice 
y  -i  sliced  banana  . 
' 2  cup  skim  milk. 
Coffee  or  lea .   .  . 


Lunch 

M  cup  vegetable  beef  soup    .  . 

1  slice  rye  bread,  lightly  bullercd 

2  |K"ar  halves  in  juice  

Coffee  or  lea  


50 
SO 
44 

TTl 

150 
UXJ 
50 


LUNOI 

I>j<«d  liard  I<i)ili-<1  t-^y,  70,  on 

1))iIUU.h  '  I  (  Up,  VJ)  

Cxkry  and  (arrot  »tick«  .  .  . 

I  iJicf  wboli  -wlural  t/»a«t,  hi/.htly 
l>utUrffd 

'  i  cup  fruit  ajckiail  .  . 

Coffee  or  tea 

DlN.M..( 

piiriK  k'iked  tK(U-  with  UiiMrfi    .   .  . 
H.iki-<l  |x)lato  Mirdiiim 
I  oHt^d  Kre<-n  ttilad    Icttuo.-.  ci-lcry, 

radiHh  and  carrot  with  nr>-caloric 

drtusing* 
'  i  cup  "I>ani«h"  (rndding  ((irepjircd 

mix.  fruit  fl.r.  .'         water  and 

bf*il) 
C^jffec  or 

Tulol  t  n/»#-/f  a  /«,r  Itnm  -H.IH 


107 


r>5 
KX) 
.  44 

535 


Sfiiur«lii> 


Hmf.akfast 


Dinner 

2  small  broiled  lamb  chops  .  . 

1  cup  broccoli  

Carrol-and-cottage-cheese  salad 

'  2  cup  applesauce  (unsweetened) 

2  vanilla  wafers  

ColTee  or  lea  


Breakfast 

3  stewed  prunes  

1  slice  toast,  lightly  buttered 
8-oz.  glass  skim  milk.   .   .  . 


100 
100 
_88 
288 


:ioo 

,  200 
,  40 
,  75 
,  100 
40 

455 

Evening  Snack 

"Fluffy"  milk  shake  (beat  1  egg  white 
stiff— add  V/i  grains  saccharin, 
crushed.  Beat  into  8-oz.  glass  of 
skim  milk,  sprinkle  wilh  nutmeg) .  102 

Total  1'alorlf'M  tor  itan—ltttH 


Scramf>led  egg  in  '  i  pat  butter 
1  slice  whole-wheat  tfwsi, 

lightly  buttered 
OjfTee  or  tea 


Lunch 

Broiled  hamburger  patty 
Broiled  tomato 
'  2  cup  green  beans  . 
2  vanilla  wafers  .... 
Coffee  or  lea  


no 

100 
75 

319 

205 
100 


50 


430 


'6 


100 


195 


1.00 
'/J 
.',0 
40 


Dinner 

Broiled  tenderloin  steak  

1  cup  cauliflower  wilh  milk  and  butter 
Carrot-and-raisin  salad  

1  slice  bread,  lightly  buttered  .... 
cup  lemon  sherbet  

Total  t'alorlfm  fur  Itam—I  lilO 


250 

200 
95 
110 
100 

705 


OK) 


J     U«.S.  noNALD  SCIII.EI 


Mrs.  Donald  Schlei.  of  Sussex, 
Wisconsin,  is  a  political  pilgrim  who 
"grew  very  tired  of  going  to  the 
polls  without  even  knowing  the 
names  on  the  ballot."  She  found 
several  friends  felt  the  same  way. 
"We  got  our  husbands  interested. 
Soon  nine  couples  were  meeting  once 
a  month.  To  talk,  but  also  to  do 
something  about  politics." 

The  group  is  not  formally  organ- 
ized. It  has  no  name  and  no  officers 
other  than  Mrs.  Schlei.  She  serves  as 
chairman.  Yet  at  a  caucus  last 
spring,  the  group's  support  clinched 
the  nomination  for  a  candidate  of 
their choice.Though  their  man  was  not 
elected,  losing  by  a  handful  of  votes, 
the  result  was  anything  but  a  defeat. 

"It  woke  the  board  and  the 
village  up  a  little.  Next  year 
we'll  do  better.  We  plan 
to  go  right  on,  working 
mainly  with  our  local  gov- 
ernment. That's  where 
we  think  we  can  do  most." 

The  Schleis  were  mar- 
ried just  a  month  before 


Don  began  his  sophomore  year  at  col- 
lege, with  Rosemary  entering  as  a 
freshman.  After  a  year,  she  decided 
to  be  content  with  helping  gel  Don 
a  diploma.  Now  he  has  it,  and  is  a 
teacher  in  the  Sussex  grade  school. 
They  are  again  working  for  a  diploma. 
This  time  a  master's  degree  from 
Marquette  University  in  nearby 
Milwaukee,  where  Don  attends 
night  classes. 

Rosemary  says  their  children, 
Mary  Ellen,  3'  2,  and  Michael  Don, 
1  year,  are  "typical  teacher's  kids— 
both  very  spoiled."  In  addition  to 
church  and  school  activities,  the 
Schleis  keep  busy  at  home.  They  like 
to  garden.  Rosemary  makes  a  hobby 
of  keeping  scrapbooks.  This  last  sum- 
mer their  new  house  became  their 
hobby— their  vacation— their  major 
project.  They  did  most  of 
the  ,vork.  including  draw- 
ing the  plans,  themselves! 

Same  as  politics— where 
they  now  are  helping  draw 
up  the  plans,  loo — as  well 
as  working  at  them. 


E  poiiiiciii  piiGRiy's  riotiEs: 


Snn*\ny 

Breakfast 

Grapefruit  juice— 4-02.  glass  50 

Sweet  roll  200 

CofTee  or  tea  

250 

Dinner  (late) 

2  large  slices  roast  lamb  200 

Baked  potato- medium  100 

"Sweet"  salad  ('  ■,  cup  cabbage.  15;  y, 

grated  apple.  50;  1  tbsp.  raisins. 

40;  lemon  juice.  5)  110 

14  cup  lemon  custard  130 

CofTee  or  tea  

540 

Evening  Snack 

Egg  poached  in  1  cup  skim  milk  ...  158 
Add  !  2  pat  butter,  25.  and  pour  over 

whole-wheat  toast.  75  100 

(unusual,  and  delicious!) 

258 

Total  Calorirm  tor  Itam—IQ  ta 

*No-Calorie  Dressing 
Dissolve  2' 2  grains  saccharin  in  2  table- 
spoons cider  vinegar.  Mix  with  4  tablespoons 
mineral  oil  and  34  teaspoon  paprika. 

*"Diel"  E>ressing 

Dissolve  V/i  grains  saccharin  in  2  table- 
spoons milk  and  1  tablespoon  vinegar. 

♦Homemade  Vegetable  Soup 
Combine  1  can  beef  bouillon  with  equal 
amount  of  water  and  bring  to  a  hoW.  Add 
chopped  carrots,  celery,  onion. -cabbage  and 
4  small  ground  beef  balls  to  boiling  soup. 
Turn  down  heat  and  simmer  until  tender. 

the  end 


108 


This  just  goes  to  show  what  a  glamorous  dessert  you  can  make  with 
snowy,  fluffy  Campfire  Marshmallows.  And  so  easily,  too!  A  few  simple 

ingredients  quickly  blended,  then  chilled,  and  presto! — a  praise-winner 
even  your  men  folks  will  love.  Because  of  the  extra  goodness  of 
Campfire  Marshmallows — the  magic  itigredietit.  Try  it,  won't  you? 


Campfire  VdtOj  "isX)^ 


16  Campfire  or  Angelus  Marshmallows 
cut  In  small  pieces 
1  lb.  pitted  dates,  cut  fine 
1  cup  walnuts,  chopped 
%  cup  rich  milk  or  cream 
1  teaspoon  vanilla 
\Va  cups  fine  graham  cracker  crumbs 

Blend  ail  ingredients  with  just  1  cup  of  cracker 
crumbs.  Ivine  bottom  of  loaf  pan  3  x  7  x  2>2  inches 
with  wax  paper.  Then  cover  with  remaining  K 
cup  of  crumbs.  Pack  in  blended  mixture.  Chill 
several  hours.  To  unmold,  slip  wet  knife  along 
edges.  Garnish  with  pineapple  slices,  cherries  and 
marshmallow  flowers.  Serve  with  tart  lemon  sauce. 
10  to  L2  luscious  servings. 

Send  for  FRBi  marshmallow  recipes 

THE  CRACKER  JACK  CO.,  Desk  27 
4800  W.  66th  Street,  Chicago  38,  Illinois 


^MARSHMALLOWS 


The  perfect  treat 
for  all  occasions 


T  LOVE  to  cook  .  .  .  when  I  want  to,  not  when  I  have  to — that  way  it  is  never  a 
^  tedious  part  of  routine.  To  do  it  this  way  takes  a  little  planning,  usually  done 
comfortably  lying  on  the  flat  of  my  back — then,  lists  in  hand,  I  cook  busily  and 
happily  meals  for  several  days  in  one  fell  swoop  (or  afternoon),  meals  that  will 
wait  in  the  refrigerator  for  last-minute  touches.  This  way,  I  can  be  unhurried 
and  unharassed  at  mealtime  and  the  food  even  seems  to  taste  better.  Saves 
wear  and  tear  on  me. 


Roast  duck,  with  an  ample  fruit  salad  and 
g(wd  bread,  makes  a  perfect  meal,  light  but 
filling,  and  refreshing  in  its  clean,  delicate 
taste,  even  on  a  tvinter  night. 


Ron.<<(  llui'k  wilh  Oingor 
Friiil  .SalatI 
.^Iplba  Toant 


/tuast  Mtuvh  irith  Iminwr 

Clean  and  singe  a  5-pound  domestic 
duck.  Rub  inside  and  out  first  with  the 
cut  side  of '  ■>  lemon  and  then  rather  lav- 
ishly with  powdered  ginger.  Sprinkle 
with  salt  and  put  a  whole  apple  or  an 
orange  inside  the  cavity.  Place  the  duck 
on  a  rack  in  an  open  roasting  pan.  Roast, 
uncovered,  in  a  moderately  slow  oven, 


325°  F.,  allowing  about  30  minutes  per 
pound.  Baste  every  10  minutes  or  so 
with  the  juices  in  the  pan.  (I  use  a 
baster  gadget  that  looks  like  an  oversize 
eye  dropper.)  Remove  duck  from  pan> 
when  it  is  tender.  Take  out  the  apple  or 
orange  before  serving,  A  5-pound  duck 
will  serve  4. 

I^'ruit  Satad 

Drain  1  No.  1  can  Bing  cherries,  ij 
No.  1  can  pears  and  1  package  frozen  I 
pineapple  chunks,  thawed.  Dice  the  I 
pears  and  combine  the  fruits  with 
cup  finely  slivered  fresh  kumquats.  Sub- 
stitute orange  sections  if  you  cannot  I 
buy  kumquats.  Make  a  dressing  with! 
half  mayonnaise  and  half  thick  com-J 
mercial  sour  cream  (about  cup  of 
each ) .  Mix  well  and  chill  together  before! 
serving.  Serves  4. 


Brunswick  slew  is  an  amiable  and  vari- 
able dish  that  can  be  tailored  to  suit  the 
taste  of  every  family.  Sturdy  appetites  will 
want  to  add  potatoes  that  the  calorie- 
minded  will  omit. 


KruiiNwick  Kit'w 

( nutre  or  h'ss  a  rliivken  steu — unless  you 
waitt  tohe  terriltly  aut  lien  tic  ami  use  squir- 
rel—  with  wht>le-kcrnel  corn,  lAnia  beans^ 
I  ftntatnes  tind  potatoes) 

4'hi<Mtr> -an«l-.>larina<<'tl-4'arrot 
Salad 
Front-h  Krt'ad 


BrunHirif'k  Steif 

Have  a  3 1 2-to-4-pound  ready-to-cook- 
weight  chicken  cut  up  as  for  fricassee. 
Put  li  cup  flour,  1  teaspoon  salt  and  }yi 
teaspoon  pepper  in  a  paper  bag.  Flour 
the  chicken  by  shaking  a  piece  or  two  at 
a  time  in  the  bag.  Saute  in  Jl  cup  short- 
ening or  salad  oil  until  golden  brown, 
turning  the  pieces  occasionally  so  they 
brown  evenly.  Transfer  the  chicken  to 
a  3-quart  casserole.  Add  1  No.  2'  2  can 
tomatoes,  1  (12-ounce)  can  whole-kernel 
corn  and  1  package  frozen  Lima  beans, 


partially  thawed.  Season  with  1^  2  tea-J 
spoons  salt  and  sprinkle  with  pepper.j 
Cover  casserole  and  bake  in  a  moderate! 
oven,  350"  F.,  for  I-U4  hours  or  untin 
tender.  If  your  casserole  does  not  have! 
a  tight-fitting  lid,  a  little  tomato  juicel 
may  be  added  during  the  baking  if  tha 
concoction  starts  to  dry  out.  Serves  41 
generously,  plus  a  snack  for  lunch  thej 
next  day. 

Mfarina/ed-f'arrot  Salad 

Peel  or  scrape  1  pound  old  carrots.  Cut] 
into  thick  slices  and  cook  in  a  small] 
amount  of  boiling  salted  water  until  ten-j 
der.  Mix  the  cooked  carrots  with  '  2  cun 
vinegar  and  }^  cup  water  in  which  the 
carrots  were  cooked,  2  plump  clovefj 
garlic,  peeled  and  cut  into  halves.  Sea-i 
son  to  taste,  with  salt  and  pepper,  ancj 
marinate  in  the  refrigerator  for  at  leasl] 
two  hours — all  day  does  no  harm! 
Wash  and  pat  dry  3  cups  chicory  I 
broken  into  pieces.  Add  the  drainecj 
carrots.  Sprinkle  with  1 '  2  tablespoonsl 
salad  oil,  and  salt  and  pepper  to  taste  I 
Toss  gently  until  chicory  leaves  ancj 
carrot  slices  are  coated  with  the  oilj 
Serves  4  generously. 


iiiUKliaii 


■.()lll-|>i';i  soup — riiifral  >«■!  Iu-ail\, 


4  hailed  tongue,  for  instance,  is  inex- 
tsive  and  there  is  very  Utile  waste, 
is  savory  and  delectable  for  several 
als  savory  in  a  hot  casserole,  in 
idiviclies.  or  it  could  he  made  into  a 
ad  that  is  a  meal-in-itself  by  mixing  the 
ed  meat  with  chopped  hard -cooked  ejins, 
ed  raw  celery,  well-coated  ivith  mayon- 
•se  that  has  heen  zipped  up  a  bit  with  a 
Ji  of  lemon  Juice  and  a  pinch  of  dry 
stard. 

/ 

— •lKoil4>il  llt'vi  Toii:<ii<>— 
^       ll<>rN4'-rii«liMli  ^>a■■<•«> 
l*»lal4M*.s 

(  hnilv^t  ttiiit  st'rrofi  in  tllrir  Jfn-ln-ts) 

I<'r«'ii4'li<'<l  4>r<'<'n  IIi'iiiin 

ltiill<'rflak«'  ItoIlN 

(fHtii^ht  ami  heatfiO 

.\l»i>l<'N  and  <;ruy«>r0  ('li«'<>s<> 

:  a  fresh  beef  tongue  in  a  large  pan, 
ling  il  slightly  to  fit,  and  cover,  with 


water.  Add  I'.j  teaspoons  salt  and  1 
tablespoon  mixed  pickling  spices.  Cover 
and  simmer  over  low  heat  for  2  to  3 
hours.  The  tongue  is  done  when  the  lit- 
tle bones  at  the  base  can  be  wiggled  free 
easily.  If  there  is  time,  let  the  tongue 
cool  in  the  cooking  water.  (Incidentally, 
you  can  save  tiiis  liquid  and  use  in  mak- 
ing the  Canadian  split-pea  soup.  It  also 
makes  a  fine  broth  for  cooking  lentils, 
beans,  and  so  on.)  Skin  the  tongue  and 
trim  off  the  scraggly  edges  at  the  root. 
Slice  as  much  as  needed  for  dinner  and 
wrap  the  rest  of  the  tongue  in  aluminum 
foil  and  store  it  in  the  refrigerator.  Serve 
the  sliced  tongue  either  hot  or  cold  with 
horse-radish  sauce.  An  average-size  beef 
tongue  will  serve  4  for  two  meals  and 
permit  generous  snacks. 

Ilttrsi'-rtntinh  Sninw 

Mix  1 2  pint  thick  commercial  sour  cream 
with  2  or  more  tablespoons  drained,  pre- 
pared horse-radish  and  1  tables'poon 
lemon  juice.  Season  with  salt  and  pepper 
to  taste.  Serve  in  a  small  bowl. 


1//  a  pot  roast  or  a  chuck  steak  needs  is 
!  a  little  loving  attention  to  compete 
h  the  most  glamorous  dishes. 


SvifvA  4'hu«'k  Stoak— Oravy 

llakcd  4'li<'<>N<'  I>»lat«M's 
■een-l><M»|i<'r-an«I-4tnion  Salaal 
Itark  Kyi-  Broad 
ThrtM'-Friiit  .Sht'rbet 

.  Spifea  Chuvk  Stviih 

it  %  cup  water  with  3^  cup  vinegar, 
hole  allspice,  6  cloves  and  2  teaspoons 
.  Pour  this  marinade  over  a  3-pound 
;e  of  chuck  steak.  Marinate  for 
lUt  2  hours,  turning  the  meat  from 
e  to  time.  Drain  and  brown  well  on 
sides  with  4  medium  onions,  chopped, 
2  tablespoons  butter  or  margarine. 
1  the  marinade  (including  the  spices) 
I  teaspoon  sage.  Cover  and  bake 
I  large  casserole  or  a  covered  roaster 
i  moderate  oven,  350°  F.,  for  about 

hours  or  until  the  meat  is  tender, 
m  off  the  fat  just  before  serving, 
cken  the  juices  with  a  thin  paste  of 

tablespoons  flour  and  3  tablespoons 
;er.  Do  this  right  in  the  oven.  Taste 
1  add  more  pepper  and  more  salt  if 
ded.  Bake,  uncovered,  about  10  min- 


utes more— just  long  enough  for  the 
gravy  to  thicken.  Serves  4. 

Peel  and  grate  4  large  baking  potatoes, 
using  coarse  side  of  your  grater.  Season 
with  2  teaspoons  salt,  ^  teaspoon  pep- 
per and  a  pinch  of  nutmeg.  Combine 
with  1  egg,  beaten  slightly,  and  2  cups 
milk.  Grate  about  •  3  pound  Swiss  cheese, 
or  enough  to  make  1  cupful.  Mix  ^4  cup 
with  the  potatoes.  Rub  the  inside  of  a 
casserole  with  1  clove  garlic,  peeled  and 
cut  into  halves.  Grease  the  casserole 
generously.  Heap  the  potato  mixture  in 
the  casserole  and  sprinkle  with  J4  cup 
Swiss  cheese.  Dot  with  small  pieces  of 
butter  or  margarine  and  bake  in  a  mod- 
erate oven,  350"  F.,  for  l}i  to  1'  2  hours, 
along  with  the  chuck  steak.  Serves  4. 

Thrw-Fruit  Shvrhvl 

Mix  the  juice  of  2  oranges  and  2  lemons 
with  1  cup  water.  Mash  1  peeled,  ripe 
banana,  or  press  it  through  a  sieve. 
Combine  with  the  fruit  juices  and  add  1 
cup  sugar.  Pour  into  freezing  tray  and 
set  up  the  refrigerator  to  its  coldest  posi- 
tion. When  mixture  is  partially  frozen 
(about  y,"  from  the  edge),  stir  well  from 
the  sides  to  the  center.  Refreeze  until 
firm.  Return  temperature  to  normal  po- 
sition. Serves  4.  (Over) 


-  ^'  f  f  I  f  I  s   I  i  ^; 


t 


J 


  ,OALITY  ; 

FRUIT  COCKTAIL 

^     "N  HEAVY  SYRUP 


A  rare  thing ...  the  subtU 

combiuatiou  of  Jlavors  and  lextures 
you  enjoy  in  DOLE  Fi-uit  Cocktail! 
Five  of  summer's  favorite  fruits 
.  .  .  whole,  geni-cut,  perfect  peaches 
and  pears,  bright  cher  ries, 
tender  grapes  and  Dole's  own 
right-from-Haicaii  piue  ipple .  .  . 
ni  ti'iuter's  favorite  dessei't. 
Have  some  soon  . . .  and  have  plenty! 


lOOK  FOR  THE  DOLE  LABEL  ON  TRUE  HAWAIIAN  PINEAPPLE -THE  TREASURED  ISLAND  FRUIT 


I 


no 


L   A    IJ    1    E    S  '       H    O    M    !■:       .1    ()    11    |{    N    A  L 


January,  1953 


If  you 

peel  potatoes.. 


cook.. 


1 


do  laundry.. 


orwash 
c//'shes... 


...you  need  the  LOTION 

MADE  FOR  BUSY  HANDS! 


If  housework  is  part  or  all  of  your 
day,  better  be  choose-y  about  hand 
lotion.  The  "glamour"  kind  is  fun  while 
you're  sweet  and  single — but  gather 
up  a  husband  and  a  household  and  see 
what  happens!  Then,  your  hands  need 
Italian  Balm — made  for  busy  hands. 

This  lotion,  with  medically-proved 


So  good, 
one  drop  does  it! 


ingredients,  soothes  and  softens  rough, 
chapped  hands  overnight — and  used 
daily,  heeps  them  smooth  no  matter 
what!  Like  an  "invisible  glove,"  it 
holds  in  softness,  keeps  out  dryness. 

Viomen  who  know  about  housework, 
insist  on  Italian  Balm,  for  no  other 
lotion  is  like  it.  25jf,  50jf,  1.00. 


ItaliaR  Balm 


BY  CAMPANA 


MOST  TRULY  EXPRESS  YOUR  SENTIMENTS  ^  R  ^ 


o'  — 


WSTER 

makes  gravy 
/!5''...  brown...  tasty 


Fntgal,  forceful  and  a  Utile  fattening. 

4'nnniliaii  ^>plil-P<'a  Soup 
with  Frankfurlfrw 
4>ri'<'n  Salad 
.^Iflba  ToaNi 
Appio!*  Bakt'd  in  >lapl<>  Sirup 
Iff  Oram 

CanaMan  SplH-i'tta  Sttup 
irilh  /"'ranlifurtfrH 

Cover  1  cup  dried  yellow  split  peas,  1  me- 
dium onion,  peeled  and  chopped,  1  carrot, 
scraped  and  chopped,  with  the  liquid  in 
which  the  tongue  was  cooked,  or  add  1  ham 
hock  and  water  to  cover.  There  should  be 
about  a  quart  of  liquid  or  tongue  juice.  Add 
about  '  2  bay  leaf  and  1  teaspoon  salt.  Cover 
and  simmer  1  hour  or  more  until  peas  are 
tender.  Add  more  salt  and  pepper  to  taste. 
Simmer  2-3  frankfurters  (tiie  garlic  kind  if 
you  can  get  them)  in  water  to  cover  about 
10  minutes.  Slice  and  serve  in  the  soup.  If 
you  use  a  ham  hock,  remove  before  serving. 
The  bits  of  ham  clinging  to  the  bone  may  be 
put  back  in  the  soup.  This  soup  may  be 
pureed  before  serving,  but  it  is  more  attrac- 
tive if  it  is  not.  Serves  4. 

ApplpH  Itukt'd  in  3laplv  Sirup 

Peel,  core  and  quarter  4  baking  apples.  Ar- 
range them  in  a  shallow  buttered  baking 
dish.  Pour  '  2  cup  maple  sirup  or  maple- 
flavored  table  sirup  over  the  apples  and 
sprinkle  with  '  ■,  teaspoon  salt.  Dot  with  but- 
ter or  margarine.  Bake  in  a  moderate  oven, 
350°  F.,  until  the  apples  are  just  barely  ten- 
der, about  45  minutes.  Baste  occasionally,  as 


they  bake,  with  the  sirup.  Serve  warm  or 
cold  with  generous  spoonfuls  of  ice  cream. 
Serves  4. 


Though  veal  is  not  a  casual  slap-on-the-' 
range-and-then-the-table  meat,  it  is  not  a  fussy  j 
one— it  just  needs  a  lillle  thought,  a  little  care  in' 
cooking. 

Veal  <>oulaMii  —  I'oppy-Sffti  IVoodleN 
Olfry  HoarlN 
RadiNlioN        Blu«'k  Olives 
4'h<>«>se  Straws 
i  '«>f  f 

»'«»«#  liuulaHh—l'appu-Sved  A'^aodlvH  ' 

Chop  fine  1  large  or  2  small  peeled  onions 
Mince  1  peeled  clove  garlic.  Cut  a  thick' 
1 '  2-pound  slice  veal  cutlet  into  squares, 
Sauteonions  and  garlic  and  the  veal  in  3  table  1 
spoons  bacon  drippings  until  a  nice  golder, 
brown.  Add  1  •  2  cups  canned  chicken  broth) 
1  teaspoon  salt,  a  generous  dash  of  peppeij 
and  1  tablespoon  paprika.  Cover  and  simmeu 
1  hour  until  the  veal  is  tender.  Reseason  tcj 
taste.  Meanwhile  cook  1  eight-ounce  pack-, 
age  medium-wide  noodles  in  boiling  salteqi 
water  until  tender.  Drain  and  toss  with  H 
tablespoons  butter  or  margarine.  Add  '  J 
pint  thick  commercial  sour  cream  to  tht; 
veal.  Swish  around  until  heated  through  anql 
pour  over  the  hot  noodles.  Sprinkle  with 
poppy  seeds  and  serve  at  once.  Or  you  mighV 
serve  the  noodles  around  the  veal,  sprinkling 
the  poppy  seeds  over  the  noodles.  Serves  4 
generously. 


LIFKNAVlNi;  DRUGS  CAN  HARM  YOr 

(Continufd  from  Page  43} 


experience  that  some  physicians  continue  to 
use  penicillin  and  other  antibiotics  indis- 
criminately, without  even  bothering  to  ask 
whether  the  patient  had  ever  used  them 
before  and,  if  so,  whether  he  had  suffered  any 
bad  reaction. 

I  know  of  the  case  of  an  internationally 
known  physician,  who  became  the  victim  of 
his  own  medicine.  Feeling  a  cold  coming  on 
one  day  at  his  office,  he  asked  his  nurse 
to  give  him  a  "shot"  of  penicillin.  His  reac- 
tion was  so  severe  that  he  was  rushed  to  the 
hospital  and  it  appeared  for  a  time  that  he 
might  s-iccumb  to  the  effects.  As  it  was,  it 
took  him  several  months  to  recover. 

Not  long  ago  I  lunched  with  a  political 
reporter  for  a  metropolitan  newspaper.  He 
was  on  a  special  diet.  His  eyes  were  puffy  and 
bloodshot;  great  fiakes  were  peeling  off  his 
unnaturally  florid  face. 

"Where  have jvoi(  been?"  I  asked  him. 

He  replied  he  had  been  in  bed  for  two 
weeks.  "My  doctor  gave  me  penicillin  to  kill 
some  bug  I  had.  Almost  killed  me.  Don't 
know  whether  it  killed  the  bug  or  not— feel 
so  lousy  I  can't  tell.  Doc  says  I'm  allergic  to 
penicillin."  His  grin  seemed  painful  as  he 
added  ruefully,  "Now  he  tells  me." 

Apparently  more  than  a  few  doctors,  as 
well  as  patients,  don't  know,  or  pay  little 
attention  to,  the  possible  consequences  of  the 
use  of  antibiotics  if  drug  allergy  is  present  or 
if  the  patient  has  become  sensitized  to  the 
drug  from  previous  treatments. 

Many  persons  who  have  perhaps  heard  of 
bad  reactions  to  antibiotics  from  their  friends 
or  relatives  may  not  know  the  true  facts  as 
they  have  been  reported  in  the  cautiously 
qualified  jargon  of  medical  literature.  Care- 
fully authenticated  cases  of  bad  results  asso- 
ciated with  the  use  of  antibiotics,  it  must  be 
noted,  are  infrequent  in  relation  to  the  vast 
numbers  of  patients  known  to  have  been  al- 
most miraculously  helped,  but  they  are 
plentiful  enough  to  light  a  flare  of  warning 
in  medical  journals.  There  are  also  ominous 
signs  cf  increasing  troubles  with  the  more 
widespread  use  of  antibiotics.  Moreover, 
because  of  the  diverse  and  peculiar  nature  of 
these  ill  effects,  it  is  impossible  to  estimate 
the  number  of  unreported  cases  in  the  past 
or  to  be  complacent  about  the  "wonder- 
working" future  of  these  drugs  unless  they 
are  used  with  much  greater  care. 


For  example,  the  allergic  symptoms  rang( ! 
from  mild  to  extremely  severe  and  may  lasii 
for  a  few  minutes,  or  days  and  weeks.  They 
may  come  almost  immediately,  or  within 
few  hours  or  a  few  days  after  the  drug  is^ 
taken.  In  some  instances,  reactions  have 
been  reported  to  occur  months  later. 

The  reactions  may  be  limited  to  certair>!i 
tissues  or  organs  in  the  body  or  they  may  h( 
more  general  in  character.  Skin  symptom? 
may  appear  in  the  form  of  simple  or  gian£|, 
hives.  The  latter  always  cause  severe  itching 
most  distressing  to  the  patient.  Anothe^ 
form,   called  angioneurotic  edema,   is  ? 
marked  puftiness  of  the  skin  of  the  eyelids' 
face,  lips,  hands  or  feet.  The  eyes  themselves 
may  become  inflamed,  the  tongue  swollen- 
and  if  this  condition  proceeds  into  the  laryn?^/ 
it  will  interfere  with  breathing.  SometimeHJ 
small  bluish-purple  spots,  the  result  o'f 
minute  hemorrhages  called  purpura,  appea^ll! 
in  the  skin.  The  lymph  glands,  especially 
those  in  the  neck,  can  become  enlarged  anc 
painful.  Chest  symptoms  may  show  up  in  thf 
form  of  asthma,  often  preceded  by  a  feelinj 
of  chest  heaviness  and  spasmodic  coughing 
The  upper  respiratory  tract  can  be  involved  % 
resulting  in  sneezing,  running  nose  and  i 
tickle  in  the  back  of  the  throat.  The  liver  if 
also  sometimes  involved,  with  the  appear-'iji 
ance  of  jaundice— a  yellowish-to-brown  dis  io 
coloration  of  the  skin,  usually  accompaniecjc 
by  itching.  Certain  elements  of  the  blood  canb- 
be  affected,  such  as  a  drastic  reduction  of  rec 
or  white  blood  cells. 

All  these  manifestations  of  drug  allergy  are ' 
not  specific  to  the  antibiotics,  but  represent  c' 
few  of  the  undesirable  reactions  to  all  types  i 
of  drugs,  the  antibiotics  included,  for  certair 
individuals  with  allergic  tendencies.  MosI 
people  are  not  subject,  at  least  at  first,  tc 
these  allergies,  and  even  those  subject  tc 
them  do  not  react  in  the  same  manner.  Some 
develop  it  quickly  after  a  few  doses  anc 
others  only  after  the  passage  of  a  number  01 
months.  Some  can  take  a  drug  for  man> 
months,  discontinue  it  for  a  while,  then  fine 
they  have  developed  intolerance  to  it  wher 
they  begin  taking  it  again.  Still  others  wil  ]t 
present  the  reverse  of  this  picture— an  intol  !'i 
erance  on  first  taking  the  drug,  then  a  toler  J 
ance  on  resumption  after  a  period  without  it  |t 

There  are  times  when  a  drug,  given  to  rei) 
duce  a  fever,  will  prolong  or  aggravate  it  in 


stead  of  bringinn  il  clown.  On  llii'  odu  r  liaiul, 
the  use  of  penicillin  and  oilier  antibiotics  to 
reduce  a  fever  may  sornelinies  lead  to  dan- 
(jLTous  consec|uences  by  inasUinn  tlic  pres- 
ence of  a  serious  condition  of  which  the-  fever 
is  merely  a  superllcia!  symptom. 

Here  is  a  case,  a  little  drama  whu  li.  as  1 
reconstruct  it  freely  from  a  leciimcal  ac  count 
in  the  Annals  of  Western  Mcdicinc'  and 
Surgery,  January,  19,^1,  minht  be  titled, 
"("irandnia  Saved  a  Life."  Dr.  P).  C".  C'olliiis 
reported  it  as  "llie  dangerous  maskiiiK  elfcrt 
of  pe  nicillin  in  acule  perforative  appendicitis 
with  secondary  peritonitis." 

(irandma  hovered  anxiously  over  the  bed 
of  her  lifleen-year-old  grandson  who  was 
suffering  from  his  fourth  attack  of  acute 
a|)peiidicitis  within  four  months.  "Hosiji- 
lal?"  siie  asked,  tearfully  but  willing. 

"No,"  the  attending  physician  told  iier, 
"I  don'l  think  an  aiipendectomy  will  be 
necessary  at  this  lime."  He  administered 
3()(),()0()  units  of  ac|ueous  crystalline-  peni- 
cillin C"i  intramuscularly,  which  meant 
notiiinn  to  (Irandma,  since  she  was  neither 
a  doctor  nor  a  scientist.  The  boy  perked  up 
siiortiy  alter  tiie  doctor  left  and  said  he  felt 
all  riiiiu. 

IJnr  his  ^grandmother  continued  to  worry 
about  him,  and  sixteen  hours  later,  on  her 
insistence,  he  was  admitted  to  the  hospital. 
His  temperature  was  97.2  '  Fahrenheit,  pulse 
78,  respiration  'M.  However,  there  was  a 
slight  tenderness  in  tiie  region  of  tiie  appen- 
dix and  his  while-blood-cell  count  was  5,000- 
000  a  lelltale  siijn  of  the  presence  of  infec- 
tion. An  operation  was  performed  immedi- 
ately. Sure  enoujih,  the  boy's  appendix  had 
been  ruptured  and  iiis  abdominal  cavity  was 
found  to  contain  a  yellowish,  foul-smelling; 
lluid.  This  time  intensive  therapy  with 
penicillin  and  dihydro-streptomycin  was 
given  after  the  operation. 

The  boy's  life  was  saved,  thanks  to  his 
perceptive  grandinother.  On  reading  about 
such  a  case,  the  ordinary  layman  cannot  help 
but  wonder  how  many  have  paid  with  their 
lives  under  similar  circumstances  when  a 
vigilant  grandmother  was  not  present,  or, 
more  important  still,  a  more  vigilant  physi- 
cian. The  case  shows  how  penicillin  has  saved 
the  life  of  a  patient  when  used  properly  after 
it  had  almost  killed  him  when  used  im- 
properly. 

The  most  frequent  ill  effects  from  the  use 
of  penicillin  have  to  do  with  hypersensi- 
tivity—usually  a  skin  reaction,  but  medical 
literature  contains  reports  of  other  side  re- 
actions, some  of  a  very  serious  nature,  in- 
cluding a  number  with  fatal  outcomes.  Little 
known  to  the  public  and  not  even  fully 
appreciated  by  many  medical  practitioners,  a 
biological  product  that  may  save  a  life  when 
given  the  hrst  time  may  become  a  killer 
when  given  the  second  time.  A  recent  sum- 
mary of  observations  during  the  first  decade 
(1941-1951)  of  the  use  of  penicillin,  by  Dr. 
Lawrence  Weld  Smith  and  Ann  Dolan 
Walker.  R.N.,  describes  among  others  an 
abortion-producing  effect  of  penicillin  in 
pregnancy  and  severe  cases  of  serum  sick- 
ness. Most  treacherous  of  all  is  the  phenom- 
enon called  anaphylactic  shock— the  exact 
opposite  of  immunity,  in  which  excessive 
susceptibility  is  developed  to  a  particular 
substance  after  the  first  introduction  of  the 
substance  into  the  body. 

A  fatal  case  of  delayed  anaphylactic  shock 
following  the  administration  of  penicillin  was 
reported  by  Dr.  A.  O.  Wilensky  in  the 
August  17.  1946,  Journal  of  the  American 
Medical  Association.  In  the  Februar'-  19, 
1949.  issue  of  the  same  official  Journ d  ap- 
peared a  report  by  Dr.  G.  L.  Waldoott  of 
another  case  of  anaphylactic  death  which 
followed  almost  immediately  aft^r  an  intra- 
muscular injection  of  penicillin.  \n  these,  and 
in  several  other  cases  of  anapnylactic  shock 
that  ran  a  stormy  course  but  fortunately  did 
not  end  fatally,  the  patient  had  been  sensi- 
tized by  previous  doses  of  penicillin.  These 
cases  point  to  the  necessity  for  a  doctor's 
taking  a  careful  case  history  of  previous  ad- 
ministrations of  this  or,  for  that  matter,  any 
other  antibiotic,  to  make  sure  that  the  pa- 
tient has  not  been  sensitized  to  the  particu- 
lar substance. 


I    \   I)    I    I     .        II  ,, 

Strcplornycin.  the  second  oldenl  aiilibu,! ,e 
in  use,  may  i)roduce  side  reactions  Hiimhir 
lo  those  ol  i)enicillin.  The  moHl  notable  nn- 
desirable  dfecl  of  the  urn.-  of  ll.js  mold 
product,  however,  is  diHlurbance  lo 
eighth  cranial  nerve,  a  branch  of  which  fur- 
nishes the  nervous  impulses  asHociatcd  willi 
eciuililMium.  The  syin|)loms  are  diz/.inoHs. 
ringing  m  the  ears,  loss  of  e(|uilibriuin  and! 
more  rarely,  diminisiied  liearinR.  These  dis- 
turbances occur  in  alH)iil  2i)  to  25  ikt  cent 
of  patients  receiving  one  gram  of  strepto- 
mycin i)er  day  for  many  days.  Slow  recovery 
ol  some  of  the  eigiilh-nerve  function  may 
occur  after  use  of  the  antibiotic  has  Ixrn  dis- 
continued, though  damage  to  the  function 
of  the  inner  ear  is  frec|uently  |H'rmanenl, 

The  commonest  and  most  troublesome 
problem  which  follows  the  use  of  the  two 
more  recent  antibiotics  aureoinycin  and 
terramycin  has  to  do  with  intestinal  irrita- 
tion, characterized  by  nausea,  vomiling  and 
diarrhea.  There  are  also  reports  of  a  few 
cases  in  which  aureoinycin  and  terramycin, 
as  well  as  penicillin,  interfere  with  the 
coagulability  of  tiie  l)l(M)d  increasing  the 
clotting  lime,  or,  if  given  by  vein,  tending  to 
form  clots. 

The  evidence  of  these  more  serious  charKcs 
againsl  penicillin  and  the  three  other  major 
antibiotics  is  not  regarded  as  conclusive  by 
most  authorities,  who  nevertheless  advise 
extreme  caution  in  their  use.  Unfortunately, 
there  appears  to  be  no  longer  any  cjuestion  as 
to  the  culpability  of  liie  fiftli  member  of  ihe 
family,  chloramphenicol,  better  known  by 
its  trade  name.  Chloromycetin. 

Chloromycetin  was  isolated  in  1947.  It  was 
the  first  substance  in  medical  history  to 
triumph  over  the  organisms  prcjducing  the 
various  types  of  typhus,  the  disease  that  has 
won  more  victories  on  the  battlefield  than 
any  army.  It  proved  to  be— and  still  is— the 
most  effective  agent  in  the  treatment  of 
typhoid  fever  and  paratyphoid  infections. 
It  conquered  certain  serious  infectious  dis- 
eases of  the  bowels  and  intestines.  To  add  to 
its  spectacular  achievements,  it  was  the  first 
agent  of  its  kind  to  subdue  a  group  of  dis- 
eases caused  by  a  virus,  such  as  psittacosis 
(parrot  fever),  lymphogranuloma  venereum 
(a  venereal  disease)  and,  last  but  not  least, 
virus  pneumonia.  Until  the  advent  of  aureo- 
mycin,  about  a  year  later,  and,  more  re- 
cently, terramycin,  Chloromycetin  was  the 
most  effective  weapon  available  to  the 
medical  profession  for  fighting  these  major 
plagues  of  mankind. 

It  was  thought  to  be  absolutely  safe.  The 
eighth  edition  of  the  Merck  Manual  of 
Diagnosis  and  Therapy,  a  ready-reference 
handbook  widely  used  by  physicians,  pub- 
lished in  1950,  states  categorically  that 
Chloromycetin  "appears  to  be  nontoxic  for 
all  practical  purposes." 

But  as  the  use  of  this  antibiotic  became 
more  and  more  widespread,  involving  mil- 
lions of  persons  in  all  parts  of  the  v  jrld.  dis- 
turbing reports  began  tricklir  ^  in.  Chloro- 
mycetin is  suspect  as  ajp^ossible  causative 
agent  of  a  dreadful  bl<"jd  disorder,  aplastic 
anemia,  which  destroys  the  ability  of  the 
bone  marrow  ^  j  produce  the  life-essential 
red  and  white  blood  cells.  Aplastic  anemia  is 
frequenth  fatal. 

Thf.  first  report  in  medical  literature  ap- 
peared in  May,  1952,  in  the  authoritative 
Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association. 
Five  California  physicians  described  two 
cases  of  aplastic  anemia,  one  ending  in  death, 
which  followed  the  prolonged  use  of  Chloro- 
mycetin. With  due  caution,  however,  the 
report  added  that  "the  occurrence  of  an  ad- 
verse episode,  such  as  bone  marrow  depres- 
sion or  destruction,  in  the  course  of  treat- 
ment of  a  disease  with  a  new  drug,  does  not, 
of  itself,  prove  the  drug  to  be  the  cause  of  the 
untoward  reaction." 

Here  is  one  tragic  true  story:  Ten-year-old 
Jimmy  Watkins,  son  of  Dr.  Albe  M.  Wat- 
kins,  of  the  Medical  Center  at  La  Canada, 
California,  suffered  from  a  stubborn  infec- 
tion. His  father  treated  him  \\ith  Chloro- 
mycetin, finding  it  necessary  to  administer  it 
in  rather  large  doses  over  a  prolonged  period. 
The  boy  recovered,  but  a  year  later  came 
down  with  another  infection.  Once  again  the 


^'     I  I     <»     1      II     \     X  I 

fallier-physician  luy/.m  ;i<l  il,,- 
Cihiorrjinyceiin  in  ihe  dos..  -  la-vcd 

neces»ary  lo  rentore  hin  i,. 

Hut  instead  of  cli-annt;  up  ilu-  infccliiin. 
llie  (aiher  tioiict-d  lo  lim  horror  that  Iiih  mn\ 
liiifl  develoiMd  apiasiic  aiu-ini;i  Fourui-ii 
blixxl  iranHfumons  and  every  oilii-r  n-iiM-dy 
thai  modern  medicine  had  tooHer  wen-  t;ivt  ii 
hm  HOM,  (o  no  avail  Heiplt-wly  the  failwr 
Hlcjod  by,  as  llie  at/oni/.itiK  dayt.  and  iiikIiIh 
brouKlil  nearer  ilu-  itM  viiable  t-iul.  I(  ciifiu- 
on  May  eiKlileenlli. 

I  he  dtaili  ci-riilicau-.  hikik-cI  by  a  Ijn 
Aniielts  bl(xxl  H|M  cial(Hl,  Imled  llie  caum-  ot 
dealh  as  "aphiHtu  anemia  from  Chloromy- 
cetin." A  -ffiidy  by  IXm  tor  Watkins  of  deatliH 
from  aplastic  anemia  in  Siuiheni  California 
brought  lo  hghi  soiiie  lifli-en  olhi-r  fatal 
casts  associated  with  ihe  prolonged  usf  of 
Chloromycelin.  Armed  willi  tins  evidence. 
I  Xxlor  Walkins  resolved  to  dcdiaile  liimMrIf 
lo  a  mission  lo  prevent  similar  IruKic  cpi- 
scKles  in  other  households. 

1  shall  always  rememlK-r  my  (irsl  me«-l- 
ing  with  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Watkins.  |It  Uxjk 
place  last  June,  during  the  annual  conven- 
tion of  the  American  Medical  Ass<Hialion 
in  Chicago.  They  wanted  me  in  lell  Ihe 
world  about  their  son,  so  thai  others  might 
Ik-  spared. 

"  Why  don'l  you  lell  il  lo  your  own  fellow 
physicians?"  I  asked.  "Why  don'l  you  gel 

□□□□□□□□□□□□□ 
WITH  THE  CHILDREN 

'*When  people,  I  mean  grownupi, 
get  really  cro>>,  then  they  don't  toy 
much  that  ii  uteful,  do  they?" 

"Sometimes  I  make  my  P'l  Into  9'i 
but  my  teacher  Is  very  understand- 
able because  she  has  been  In  first 
grade  a  long  enough  time." 

— KATHRVN  COFFEY  CLENNON 

□□□□□□□□□  □□{!]□ 

up  at  this  meeting  and  tell  them  about  it?" 

"I  have  tried."  he  said,  "but  they  won't 
listen  to  me.  They  think  the  loss  of  our  boy 
has  warped  my  judgment.  They  want  to 
wait  for  more  eviclence.  And  meantime  they 
are  continuing  to  give  it  to  their  patients." 

P'rom  the  tone  of  his  voice  and  the  look  in 
his  eyes.  I  knew  that  I  was  in  the  presence  of 
a  true-life  Greek  tragedy  in  which  a  father 
had  been  trapped  by  Fate  to  bring  death  to 
his  own  child.  Sadly  I  told  him  that  I,  too, 
must  wait  for  more  evidence. 

"But  while  you  wait,"  he  warned,  "many 
may  pay  with  their  lives." 

As  a  physician.  Doctor  Watkins  was  well 
aware  that  millions  of  persons  in  all  parts  of 
the  world  had  been  successfully  treated  wiih 
Chloromycetin  in  the  five-year  period  since 
its  discovery.  The  incidence  of  fatal  blood 
disorders  associated  w^ith  its  use,  reported 
by  May,  1952,  w-as  very  small  indeed,  a  ratio 
said  to  be  no  more  than  1  in  80,000.  Such  a 
small  ratio  is  described  in  scientific  circles  as 
"statistically  insignificant."  Yet  as  a  father 
and  human  being,  Albe  Watkins  also  knew 
that  it  was  small  comfort  to  be  told  that  the 
death  of  his  boy,  or  any  other  human  being, 
w-as  "insignificant"  from  the  point  of  view 
of  statistics. 

The  reports  of  the  blood  disorders  follow- 
ing the  use  of  Chloromycetin  led  the  Food 
and  Drug  Administration  of  the  Federal 
Security  Agency  last  June  to  begin  a  coun- 
try-wide survey  in  hospitals  and  clinics.  The 
records  of  410  cases  of  such  blood  disorders 
were  turned  over  by  the  FDA  for  evaluation 
by  a  special  committee  of  the  National  Re- 
search Council.  The  committee,  and  the  con- 
sultants who  worked  with  it.  found  that  of 
the  410  case  histories  of  serious  blood  dis- 
orders, 177  were  "definitely  known  to  have 
been  associated  with  the  use  of  Chloro- 
mycetin—and  that  50  per  cent  of  these  pa- 
tients have  died."  The  FDA's  announcement 
(August  13,  1952)  added  that  8.000.000  pa- 
tients had  been  treated  with  Chloromycetin 
since  it  had  been  placed  on  the  market. 


I  i  I 

driit^  Mio|MT- 

I 


iii.i<!' 

A«  (III*  II  beinK  wntUm  llie  fir«l  repurti 

.....  ,             I  .  ,1..       ■   ...  y.  ...  IV 

M  .,1- 

.1..  :.  .  :  ... 

ciatcd  with  i)u:  UM-  i  m- 

children  h;id  Utn            :  uy, 

coukIi  for  ai  l<  a»i  Iwi-niy  (our  <  .  ■•, 

litllf  d.jubl.  Ihe  lii  ■       M.  ,;,) 


add*,  that  similar  <  .  d 

"now  lhal  the  alert  I  .i    <■ .  .  ,  . 

\s  Ihe  antibiotics  I*.  . .  •..  ,,r,- 

widely  used,  and  as  p  :  to 

a  Hfajnd.  third  or  ev.  ■  .  s<- 

drugs,  new  and  grave  dai<.  In- 

lifjriwn.  (kii:  of  Ihesi-  is  ;ve 

diseasi-<ausing  l)aclcria  are  gr.  .  rig 

eliminated,  leaving  only  lln/st-  isl- 


anl  to  a  particular  antibi.jt'c  to  llouriHh 
without  hindrance.  Another  is  lliai  bacteria 
originally  s»  nsiiive  lo  an  antibi.nic  may  de- 
velop a  resistance  lo  it.  A  third  and  .-ven 
more  serious  danger  is  that  whi!  iz- 
ing  the  bacteria  we  may  at  th<  be 
sensitizing  the  patient  and  make  tuni  Mibject 
lo  an  anaphylactic  reaction. 

New  "low-allergy"  and  even  antiallergic 
forms  of  penicillin  have  recently  been  devel- 
oiK-d,  and  they  may  open  a  new  chapter  in 
aniibiolic  history.  Bui  judging  from  pasi 
ex|x.rience.  Ihey  are  ncjt  likely  to  offer  a  per- 
manent solution  to  the  problems  of  penicillin 
sensitivity.  As  Dr.  Wallace  E.  Herrell,  of  the 
Mayo  Clinic,  one  of  the  leading  pioneers  in 
the  field,  points  out,  patients  may  beajme 
sensitive  lo  thc^  forms  as  they  have  lo 
other  forms  in  the  past.  It's  the  "sheer 
cussedness  of  nature,"  as  one  scientist  put  it. 
Efforts  to  develop  a  way  of  testing  a  person 
for  possible  allergy  or  sensitivity  to  an  anti- 
biotic before  giving  it  to  him  have  not  as  yet 
been  completely  successful.  A  patient  knowTi 
to  be  allergic  to  penicillin  can  be  dc-sensitized 
by  extremely  small  doses,  which  are  gradu- 
ally increased  and  an  antihistaminic  added, 
over  a  pericjd  of  four  weeks. 

The  danger  signals  have  been  hoisted.  The 
use  <jf  the  antibiotics  must  continue  with 
careful  discrimination  and  with  every  possible 
safeguard  of  careful  diagnosis  and  testing. 
These  powerful  drugs  are  not  to  be  used  for 
every  sniffle  or  fever.  Their  ability  to  sensi- 
tize and  to  cause  serious  and  even  fatal  acci- 
dents must  not  be  minimized.  Unless  we  heed 
the  danger  signals,  we  may  face  the  frighten- 
ing prospect  of  gradually  destroying  the  use- 
fulness of  the  antibiotics,  so  that  the  millions 
now-  saved  by  them  would  be  doomed  to  die. 

AI  STItALIA 

(Continued  from  Page  104) 

the  Journal  to  make  up  for  the  poor  quality 
of  the  official  releases. 

My  husband  has  frequently  <x)mmented 
on  the  official  .\merican  Newsletter  which 
arrives  in  his  office  every  week  along  with 
propaganda  from  other  countries  such  as 
Great  Britain.  India.  Pakistan.  Italy.  Japan, 
and  so  on.  With  the  exception  of  the  Amer- 
ican letter,  all  the  other  handouts  are  usually 
well  printed,  attractively  presented,  and  are 
written  in  a  friendly,  helpful  manner.  Per- 
haps we  are  oversensitive,  but  the  U.  S. 
Newsletter  is  presented  on  ten  to  twenty 
sheets  of  cheap  duplicating  paper  and  its 
manner  verges  on  the  patronizing  at  times. 
But  anyway,  we  have  the  Journ.al,  and  one 
copy  of  that  is  worth  a  thousand  official  news 
sheets.  It's  a  pity  your  authorities  don't 
realize  that  in  magazines  like  yours  they 
have  one  of  the  best  possible  weapons  with 
which  to  fight  the  cold  war.  A  few-  million 
L.\DiES'  Home  Journ  als  dropped  behind  the 
Iron  Curtain  would  make  a  lot  of  recipients 
wonder.  Yours  sincerely, 

JOYCE  V.  McROBBIE 


112 


I,    \    I)    I     K    S  ■       H    ()    M     F,       .1    O    I     R    \     \  I. 


January,  1953 


When  qour  bathroom 
isCLOROX-clean 

qourfamilq!s  health! 

That's  because  Clorox  is  more 
than  an  extra-gentle  bleach  . . . 
it's  the  most  efficient  germ-killer 
of  its  kind  ...  a  type  of  disin- 
fectant recommended  by  public 
health  authorities.  Give  your 
family  the  added  health  protec- 
tion of  a  Clorox-clean  home! 

Millions  of  women  include  Clorox 
in  routine  cleaning  of  germ  centers 
such  OS  wash  basins,  toilet  bowls, 
tubs,  drainboards,  sinks,  floors. 
Clorox  also  removes  stains,  de- 
odorizes... leaves  surfaces  clean 
looking,  fresh  smelling,  sanitary! 

CLOROX  safeguards  health  in 
laundering,  too! 

White  and  color-fast 
linens  are  more  than 
snowy-white  and  color- 
bright  when  they're 
Clorox-clean,  they're 
sanitary,  too.  And  Clorox  con- 
serves linens.  It's  free  from  caus- 
tic—extra gentle— made  by  an 
exclusive,  patented  formula.  See 
directions  on  the  label. 


the  eloquence  of  any  one  of  them  by  the  pres- 
ence of  the  others." 

Abstract  art  is  in  some  ways  the  logical 
outcome  of  this  approach,  but  Matisse,  on 
the  whole,  has  maintained  a  balance  between 
abstraction  and  representation.  When  begin- 
ning a  painting  he  often  makes  a  sketch 
which  is  quite  naturalistic.  He  then  tries  to 
bring  into  balance  the  various  elements  of 
drawing,  color,  values,  composition.  For  ex- 
ample, since  the  "eloquence"  of  color  is  di- 
minished by  distance,  the  local  tone  of  an 
object  being  less  vivid  the  farther  away  it  is, 
he  decreases  the  suggestion  of  depth  and 
flattens  out  the  painting.  Also,  his  first  draw- 
ing may  be  somewhat  literal,  but  gradually 
through  increasing  distortion  he  stresses  an 
underlying  rhythm  of  line.  The  subject  itself, 
whether  a  model  posed  in  a  room,  or  a  pot  of 
geraniums  on  a  shelf,  suggests  a  composition 
in  space.  But  he  makes  the  element  of  design 
more  striking  by  transforming  the  scene  into 
a  pattern  on  a  flat  surface. 

Bright  colors,  rhythmic  drawing,  surface 
patterns  are  all  evident  in  the  Pot  of  Gerani- 
ums, which  Matisse  painted  in  1912.  It  illus- 
trates a  principle  he  once  stated  to  his  stu- 


Neither  the  police  nor  the  doctor  had  an 
answer  for  him. 

The  usual  formalities  were  gone  through, 
the  official  business  of  an  inquest,  with  the 
expected  verdict,  "Suicide,  with  no  evidence 
to  show  the  state  of  mind  of  the  deceased." 

Sir  John  Farren  talked  to  the  doctor  again 
and  again,  but  neither  of  them  could  come  to 
any  conclusion. 

"Yes,  it  is  possible,"  said  the  doctor. 
"Women  can  become  temporarily  deranged 
at  such  a  time,  but  you  would  have  noticed 
signs  of  it,  and  so  would  I.  You  tell  me  she 
was  perfectly  normal  the  night  before,  per- 
fectly normal  at  breakfast.  As  far  as  you 
know,  there  was  nothing  on  her  mind  at  all?  " 

"Absolutely  nothing,"  said  Sir  John.  "  We 
breakfasted  together,  as  we  always  do,  we 
made  plans  for  the  afternoon;  after  I  re- 
turned from  the  board  meeting  I  was  going 
to  take  her  for  a  drive.  She  was  cheerful  and 
completely  happy." 

Lady  Farren's  cheerfulness  was  also  cor- 
roborated by  the  servants. 

The  housemaid,  who  had  gone  to  the  bed- 
room at  half  past  ten,  found  her  ladyship 
examining  shawls  that  had  come  by  the  par- 
cel post.  Lady  Farren,  delighted  with  the 
work,  had  shown  the  shawls  to  her,  and  had 
said  she  would  keep  both  pink  and  blue,  for 
boy  or  girl. 

At  eleven,  a  traveling  salesman  had  called, 
from  a  firm  that  made  garden  furniture.  Her 
ladyship  had  seen  the  man,  chosen  two  large 
garden  seats  from  his  catalogue.  The  butler 
knew  this,  because  Lady  Farren  had  shown 
him  the  catalogue  after  the  man  had  gone, 
when  he  had  come  with  her  milk  and  to  in- 
quire if  there  were  any  orders  for  the  chauf- 
feur, and  her  ladyship  had  said,  "No,  I 
shan't  be  going  out  until  after  lunch,  when 
Sir  John  will  be  taking  me  for  a  drive." 

The  butler  had  gone  from  the  room,  leav- 
ing her  ladyship  drinking  a  glass  of  milk.  He 
was  the  last  person  to  see  Lady  Farren  alive. 

"It  comes  to  this,"  said  Sir  John.  "Be- 
tween that  time,  which  was  approximately 
twenty  minutes  past  eleven,  and  eleven- 
thirty,  when  she  shot  herself,  Mary  went  off 
her  head.  It  doesn't  make  sense.  There  nmst 
have  been  something  wrong.  I've  got  to  find 
out  what  it  was.  I  shall  never  rest  until 
I  do." 

The  doctor  did  his  best  to  dissuade  him, 
but  it  was  no  use.  He  himself  was  convinced 
that  Mary  Farren  had  succumbed  to  a  sud- 
den brain  sLorm,  due  to  her  condition,  and 
not  knowing  what  she  was  doing,  had  made 
an  end  of  herself.  Let  it  stay  there.  And 
only  time  would  help  .John  Farren  to  forget. 


POT  OF  GERAXllTMS 

(Continued  from  Page  42) 

dents,  that  it  is  nothing  to  copy  the  objects 
in  a  still  life,  "one  must  render  the  emotion 
they  awaken  . . .  the  emotion  of  the  ensemble, 
the  interrelation  of  the  objects,  the  specific 
character  of  every  object— modified  by  its 
relation  to  the  others— all  interlaced  like  a 
cord  or  a  serpent." 

The  twist  of  the  geranium,  for  example, 
suggests  the  force  of  growth.  For  con- 
trast the  plant  is  placed  against  the  static 
forms  of  flowerpots  and  shelves.  The  blos- 
som, the  leaves,  the  stem  seem  to  dance 
against  this  background  of  geometric  shapes. 
The  most  dissonant  colors  are  combined, 
emerald  green  and  pink,  mauve  and  terra 
cotta.  These  intense  hues  are  played  against 
each  other  as  chords  in  a  musical  composi- 
tion, and  their  resonance  is  enhanced  by 
pools  of  black  made  by  the  shadows  of  the 
pots  and  ^he  soil  they  contain. 

Such  a  painting  bears  a  superficial  and  de- 
ceptive resemblance  to  the  work  of  a  child. 
For  children  through  ignorance  disregard  the 
conventions  which  Matisse  has  consciously 
rejected.  Misunderstanding  this,  young  paint- 
ers have  been  misled  by  the  apparent  facility 
and  seeming  negligence  in  Matisse's  work. 


NO  MOTIVK 

(Continued  from  Page  3<Jj 

John  Farren  did  not  try  to  forget.  He 
went  to  a  private  detective  agency  and  inter- 
viewed a  man  called  Black,  recommended  by 
the  firm  as  trustworthy  and  discreet.  Sir 
John  told  him  the  story. 

Black  was  a  canny  Scot.  He  didn't  talk 
much,  but  he  listened.  It  was  his  private 
opinion  that  the  doctor's  theory  was  right, 
and  a  sudden  brain  storm,  due  to  pregnancy, 
was  the  motive  for  the  suicide.  However,  he 
was  thorough  at  his  job,  and  he  went  down 
to  the  country,  and  interviewed  the  house- 
hold. He  asked  many  questions  that  the 
police  had  not  asked,  chatted  with  the  doc- 
tor, checked  up  on  the  mail  that  had  come 
for  Lady  Farren  during  the  past  few  weeks, 
inquired  about  telephone  calls  and  encoun- 
ters with  personal  friends;  and  still  there  was 
no  answer  he  could  give  to  his  client. 

The  one  obvious  solution  that  had  come  to 
his  practiced  mind— that  Lady  Farren  was 
expecting  a  child  by  a  lover— did  not  work. 
Check,  and  double  check,  revealed  no  possi- 
bility of  this.  Husband  and  wife  were  de- 
voted, and  had  not  been  apart  since  their 
marriage  three  years  previously.  The  serv- 
ants all  spoke  of  their  great  attachment  for 
each  other.  There  were  no  financial  worries. 
Nor  could  the  shrewd  Black  trace  any  in- 
fidelity on  the  part  of  Sir  John.  Servants, 
friends,  reighbors  all  spoke  of  his  high  in- 
tegrity. Thescfore  his  wife  had  not  shot  her- 
self through  any  f  ult  of  his  that  had  come  to 
light. 

Temporarily  Black  Wi^«  baffled.  But  not 
beaten.  Once  he  took  on  a  t.-'se,  he  liked  to 
see  it  through  to  the  end,  ar.d  hardened 
though  he  was,  he  felt  sorry  to  see  Sir  John's 
agony  of  mind. 

"You  know,  sir,"  he  said,  "in  cases  of  this 
sort  we  often  have  to  go  back  in  a  person's 
life,  rather  further  than  the  immediate  past 
I've  been  through  every  inch  of  your  wife's 
desk,  with  your  permission,  and  searched  her 
papers  and  all  correspondence,  and  I  have 
found  nothing  to  give  the  faintest  clue  to  the 
trouble  on  her  mind— if  there  was  trouble. 

"You  have  told  me  that  you  met  Lady 
Farren— Miss  Marsh  as  she  was  then— while 
on  a  visit  to  Switzerland.  She  was  living  with 
an  invalid  aunt,  Miss  Vera  Marsh,  who  had 
brought  her  up,  her  parents  being  dead." 

"That  is  correct,"  said  Sir  John. 

"They  lived  in  Sierre,  and  also  in  Lau- 
sanne, and  you  met  both  the  Misses  Marsh  at 
the  house  of  a  mutual  friend  in  Sierre.  You 
struck  up  a  friendship  with  the  younger 
Miss  Marsh,  and  by  the  end  of  your  holiday 
you  had  fallen  in  love  with  her,  and  she  with 
you,  and  you  asked  her  to  marry  you." 

"Yes." 


He  himself  has  pointed  out  the  danger  and  | 
has  said  that  there  is  no  way  of  avoiding  J 
"the  slow  and  painful  preparation  which  is 
necessary  for  the  education  of  any  contem-  -j 
porary  painter  who  claims  to  construct  by 
color  alone." 

The  revolution  introduced  into  art  by 
Matisse  is  rooted  in  studies  which  began 
when  he  was  a  copyist  in  the  Louvre,  and 
which  have  gone  on  unendingly  until  these 
last  years,  when  he  has  executed  his  greatest 
designs  for  a  Dominican  chapel  at  Vence,  in 
Southern  France.  But,  like  Michelangelo, 
Matisse  has  always  been  at  pains  to  hide  the 
effort  that  has  gone  into  his  work.  He  has  1 
wished  his  paintings  "to  have  the  lightness  > 
and  joyousness  of  springtime,  which  never 
lets  anyone  suspect  the  labor  it  has  cost." 
And  in  this  statement  he  has  described  his 
greatest  gift.  For  almost  alone  among  living 
artists  he  has  been  able  to  convey  his  own  - 
delight  in  a  person,  or  a  place,  or  a  flower,  to  , 
communicate  a  joyousness  of  vision  which 
eighty  years  and  two  wars  have  not  dimin- 
ished. 

—John  Walker 
Chief  Curator,  National  Gallery  of  Art 


"The  elder  Miss  Marsh  made  no  objec- 
tion; in  fact,  she  was  delighted.  It  was  ar- 
ranged between  you  that  you  should  makcj 
her  an  allowance,  to  cover  the  expenses  of| 
a  companion  to  take  her  niece's  place,  and 
within  a  couple  of  months  or  so  you  were 
married  at  Lausanne." 

"Correct  again." 

"There  was  no  question  of  the  aunt's' 
coming  to  live  with  you  in  England?  " 

"No,"  said  Sir  John.  "Mary  wanted  her, 
to— she  was  much  attached  to  her  aunt— but 
the  old  lady  refused.  She  had  lived  in  Switz- 
erland so  long  she  couldn't  face  the  English 
climate,  or  the  English  food.  Incidentally, 
we  have  been  out  twice  to  see  her  since  we 
married." 

Black  asked  if  Sir  John  had  heard  from  his 
wife's  aunt  since  the  tragedy.  Yes.  He  had 
written,  of  course,  at  once,  and  she  had  seen 
the  news  in  the  papers  too.  She  was  horrified. 
She  could  give  no  reason  why  Mary  should 
have  taken  her  life.  A  letter,  written  a  week 
before,  full  of  her  happiness  at  the  prospect 
of  the  future  baby,  had  arrived  in  Sierre 
only  a  few  days  prior  to  the  calamity.  Miss 
Marsh  had  enclosed  the  letter  for  Sir  John 
to  read.  And  Sir  John  gave  it  to  Black. 

"I  take  it,"  said  Black,  "that  the  two, 
ladies,  when  you  met  them  first,  three  years 
ago,  were  living  very  quietly?" 

"They  had  this  small  villa,  as  I  told  yoU| 
before,"  said  Sir  John,  "and  about  twice  a 
year  they  used  to  go  down  to  Lausanne,  and 
take  rooms  in  a  pension.  The  old  lady  had 
some  sort  of  trouble  with  her  lungs,  but  not 
serious  enough  for  a  sanatorium  or  anything 
like  that.  Mary  was  a  most  devoted  niece. 
It  was  one  of  the  first  things  that  drew  me  to 
her.  Her  gentleness  and  sweet  temper  to  the 
old  lady,  who,  like  many  elderly  people, 
semi-invalid,  was  apt  to  be  fractious  at 
times." 

"So  your  wife,  the  younger  Miss  Marsh, 
did  .lot  get  about  much?  Not  many  friends 
her  o.  n  age,  and  that  sort  of  thing?  " 

"  I  suppose  not.  It  did  not  seem  to  worry 
her.  Hers  was  such  a  contented  nature." 

"And  th  s  had  been  her  life  since  she  was 
quite  small?" 

"Yes.  Miss  Marsh  was  Mary's  only  rela 
five.  She  had  adopted  her  when  Mary's  par- 
ents died.  Mary  was  a  child  at  the  time." 

"And  how  old  was  your  wife  when  you 
married  her?" 

"Thirty-one." 

"No  history  of  a  previous  engagement,  or, 
a  love  affair?"  . 

"Absolutely  none.  I  usod  to  tease  Mary| 
about  it.  She  said  she  had  n^^ver  seen  anyone 


lie 


When  it's  CLOROX-clean... 
it's  SAFER  for  Family  Health! 


I.     V    I)     I  I 


""Ml  I     "     I      |(     N     X  I 


ivc  tier  Ihc  slijililest  lliiltfr  .  And  her  ;iimt 
;e(i.  I  reiiic'iiitxT  Miss  Marsh  sayiriK  lo 
wlu'ii  we  bcconic  eriKancd.  'It's  rare  to 

anyone  so  unspoiled  as  Mary.  She's  j^ol 
prettiest  lace  and  is  C|uite  unaware  ol  it, 

the  sweetest  nature  anfl  doesn't  nah/e 
.  citlier.  ^'ou're  a  vi  ry  Uici\y  man.'  .\Md  I 

ir  Jolm  sat  staring  at  Hlaek  with  sm  h 
!Ct  misery  in  hist'yi's  tliat  the  tounh  Scot 
ily  liked  to  cross-(|ui'stion  him  further. 
So  it  really  was  a  love  match  on  both 
s?"  he  said.  "  You  are  (|uite  certain  there 

no  iKill  in  your  title  and  position?  I 
,n.  the  aunt  miniil  have  told  her  niece 

here  was  a  chance  she  mustn't  miss,  an- 
;r  man  like  you  mi^;ht  not  come  aloiiu. 
;r  all.  ladies  do  think  of  these  thin^;s." 
ir  .lohn  shook  his  head.  "Miss  Marsh 
lit  have  had  an  eye  to  the  main  ciumce,  1 
'I  know,"  he  said,  "hut  certainly  Mary 

not.  Hinht  from  the  beuinninK.  il  was  I 
I  sought  out  her,  not  the  other  way 
id.  If  Mary  had  been  looking  about  for  a 
land,  she  would  have  siiown  si^ns  of  il 
n  we  lirst  met.  And  you  know  what  cats 
len  can  be.  The  friend  at  whose  chalet  I 
inally  met  the  Marshes  would  have 
lied  melhat  here  wasa  nirl,  iKisl  thirty, m 
ch  of  a  husband.  She  said  no  such  thinti. 
said,  '  I  want  you  to  meet  a  perfect  dar- 

of  a  girl,  whom  we  all  adore,  and  Icel 
er  sorry  for,  because  she  leads  such  a 
ly  life.'  " 

Yet  she  didn't  appear  lonely  lo  you?" 
Not  at  all.  She  seemed  perfectly  con- 
lack  handed  back  Miss  Marsh's  leltcr  to 
John.  "You  still  want  me  to  no  on  with 
in(|uiry?"  he  said.  "You  don'l  Ihink  il 
Id  be  simpler  lo  decide,  once  and  for  all. 
your  doctor  was  rinht  about  Lady  Far- 
and  she  had  some  sort  of  blackout  which 
;ted  her  mind  and  made  her  lake  her 

No."  said  Sir  .lohn.  "I  tell  you.  some- 
re  there  is  a  clue  lo  lliis  tragedy,  and  I 
I'l  i;ive  up  until  I've  found  il.  Or  rather, 
lind  it  for  me.  Thai's  why  I'm  employ- 
you." 

lack  rose  from  his  chair.  "Very  well."  he 

.  "  If  that's  the  way  you  feel  about  it.  I'll 

ighl  ahead  with  the  case." 

What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Sir 

1. 

I  shall  fly  to  Switzerland  tomorrow." 

lack  handed  in  his  card  at  the  Chalet 

I  Repos  at  Sierre.  and  was  shown  into  a 

II  salon  that  gave  onto  a  balcony  with  a 
view  across  the  Rhone  Valley. 

woman— Miss  Marsh's  companion,  he 
josed— led  him  through  the  salon  on  to 
balcony.  Black  had  time  to  notice  that 
room  was  furnished  neatly,  with  good 
e,  but  nothing  out  of  the  way,  very  much 
room  of  an  elderly  English  spinster  living 
)ad  who  did  not  fling  her  money  around. 

[ERE  was  a  large  picture  of  Lady  Farren 
he  mantelpiece,  taken  recently,  a  dupli- 
:  of  the  one  he  had  seen  in  Sir  John's 
ly.  And  another  on  a  writing  bureau,  of 
y  Farren  aged  about  twenty,  he  judged. 
)retty,  shy-looking  girl,  her  hair  worn 
ler  longer  than  in  the  more  recent  por- 
t. 

lack  went  onto  the  balcony,  and  intro- 
sd  himself  to  the  elderly  lady  seated 
e,  in  a  wheel  chair,  as  a  friend  of  Sir  John 
ren's. 

liss  Marsh  had  white  hair,  blue  eyes  and 
"m  mouth.  From  the  way  she  spoke  to 
companion,  who  immediately  left  them 
;ther.  Black  decided  she  was  hard  on 
>e  who  served  her.  She  seemed,  however, 
jinely  pleased  to  see  Black,  and  at  once 
;d  after  Sir  John  with  much  concern  and 
ited  to  know  if  any  light  at  all  had  been 
)wn  on  the  tragedy. 

I'm  sorry  to  say,  none,"  answered  Black, 
fact,  I  am  here  to  ask  you  what  you 
w  about  it.  Y'ou  knew  Lady  Farren  bet- 
than  any  of  us,  even  her  husband.  Sir 
n  thinks  you  may  have  some  ideas  on  the 
ject." 

liss  Marsh  looked  surprised.  "But  I 
te  and  told  Sir  John  I  was  horrified  and 


comiilctely  b.iriled,"  she  sjiid.  "1  enclosed 
Mary's  last  In.i,.,-.  Hid  he  tell  you?" 

•"^  es,"  said  Black.  "1  h;iw  the  Idler.  And 
you  have  others?" 

"I  keiit  all  her  lellers."  said  Miss  Marsh. 
"She  wrote  me  regularly,  every  week,  alter 
she  married.  If  Sir  John  wants  ine  to  send 
him  the  letters  I  shall  Im'  pleas«-d  lo  do  so. 
There  is  not  one  letter  thai  isn't  full  „f  her 
.iffeclion  for  him,  and  her  pride  and  delit;ht 
in  iier  new  home.  Il  was  her  one  regret  ihat 
1  wouldn't  stir  myself  to  and  visit  her. 
Hut  you  see,"  she  told  her  visitor.  "I  ;im 
such  an  invalid." 

Villi  look  hi'tirly  inoiinh,  thouKhl  Black,  hiil 
/>erlia/>s  you  just  ilidti'l  waul  lo  no. 

"I  gather  you  and  your  niece  were  much 
attached?"  he  said. 

"  I  was  deeply  fond  of  Mary,  and  I  like  lo 
liiink  she  was  e(|ually  fond  of  me,"  was  the 
swift  reply.  "Heaven  knows  I  can  be  can- 
tankerous at  limes,  but  Mary  never  seemed 
lo  mind.  She  was  the  sweetesl-nalured  girl, 
and  had  a  lovely  disiiosition." 

"You  were  sorry  lo  lose  her?" 

"Of  course  1  was  sorry.  I  missed  her  ter- 
ribly, and  still  do.  But  naturally  her  happi- 
ness came  lirst ." 

"Sir  John  told  me  he  made  you  an  allow- 
ance to  cover  the  cost  of  your  present  com- 
panion." 

"  Yes.  It  was  generous  of  him.  Will  it  con- 
tinue, do  you  know?" 

The  inflection  in  her  voice  was  sharp. 
Black  decided  that  his  original  idea  of  Miss 
Marsh  as  someone  who  did  not  wholly  dis- 
regard money  was  probably  sound. 

"Sir  John  didn't  say.  Bui  I  feel  sure,  if  il 
was  otherwise,  you  would  have  heard  from 
him  or  from  his  lawyers,"  said  Black.  He 
looked  al  Miss  Marsh's  hands.  They  lapped 
llie  sides  of  the  wheel  chair  in  a  little  nervous 
gesture.  "There  was  nothing  in  your  niece's 
past  that  would  account  for  her  suicide?"  he 
said. 

She  looked  startled.  "What  on  earth  do 
you  mean?" 


"No  previoiiH  enKaKetnetit,  or  love  aflair 

Kone  wronv,  '" 
"CiWkI  Ii. 

Curious  i  relieved  at  tlie  word- 

ing of  his  (|Uetliiiti 

"Sir  Jolm  was  .Maiy'^  only  luve  Slie  |e<| 
rallier  a  solitary  life  uu-.  you  Know  .\oi 
many  youiiK  iK-ople  m  tlic  disiru  t  Kven  m 
I.ans;inne.  she  neve  r  sti  im  rl  in  mek  out  |k-<>- 
|)le  nearer  her  own  a^',e  It  was  iwU  ttial  nlie 
was  particularly  nliy  or  reitcrved.  Ju«l  iielf- 
coniained" 

"What  alvint  school  friiiuls?" 

"I  lauuhl  hir  lessons  myself,  when  ulic 
was  small.  She  had  a  few  lerms  in  l^nis;inne, 
when  she  was  older,  but  as  a  day  ^irl,  we 
lived  in  a  ixtision  close  by.  I  seem  lo  rernern- 
lu  r  one  or  Iwo  y.nU  commu.  in  f<»r  lea.  But  tvt 
especial  friend." 

"  I  lave  you  any  photOKraphsof  lier  al  llial 
age?" 

"Yc8.  Several.  I've  koI  them  all  in  an  al- 
bum somewhere.  Would  you  care  to  see 
them?" 

"I  think  I  should.  Sir  John  showed  me 
several  photographs,  Inil  I  don'l  think  la- 
had  any  dating  before  their  marriage." 

Miss  Marsh  ixiinted  to  the  bureau  in  the 
salon  behind,  and  told  him  lo  o|K-n  the  si-c- 
ond  drawer  and  bring  back  an  album.  He  did 
so,  and  putting  on  spectacles,  she  o(x.-ned  the 
album,  and  he  drew  his  seal  Ix-side  her. 

They  went  through  the  album  al  random. 
There  were  many  snapshots,  none  of  any 
ixirlicular  interest.  Lady  Farren  alone.  Miss 
Marsh  alone.  Lady  Farren  and  Miss  Marsh 
in  groups  with  other  ix;o|)le.  Snaps  of  the 
chalet.  Snaps  of  Lausanne.  Black  turned  the 
Images.  No  clue  here. 

"Isthallhe  lot? "he said. 

"I'm  afraid  il  is,"  said  Miss  Marsh.  "She 
was  such  a  pretty  girl,  wasn't  she?  Those 
warm  brown  eyes.  It  is  the  mf)sl  dreadful 
thing.  . .  .  I\x)r  Sir  John." 

"You  haven't  any  snaps  of  her  when  she 
was  a  child.  I  notice.  These  seem  lo  start 
when  she  was  around  fifteen." 


Never  Underestimate  the  Power  of  a  Woman ! 


'lltcre  wait  a  (mum-,  and  tiuni  Mim  .Manti 
r.  ;,ti.  <1  •  V,,        . ,,.  I  don'l  think  I  luid  u 

■  ':efii  '1  I  ir    |i    a  an 

-4. 

AljXUl  Mllill 

"\\  li.it  .1  jtttv  "  hi-  '..-lid   "}         .\  «  tlijfil 


•laid  ■  1,  in 

front  <ii  1,11  oil  iiiL  table. 

"  I  ex|Kcl  you  liave  ilie  ordinary  Kudio 
p<*rlraiiH' "  naid  Black 

"No,"  said  .\liHs  Marsii.  "Or  if  I  once 
had,  I  muHl  luivi-  losi  ihein  In  tlie  iivivc, 
y«ju  ki¥jw.  We  didn't  coine  here  until  Mary 
was  lideen.  We  were  in  I^ukaniie  Mtx*: 
thai." 

"And  you  adopted  Mary  when  ittc  wa» 

Tive.  I  think  Sir  John  s;iid?" 

"Yes,  She  would  liave  been  abr/ut  five." 
Again  the  momentary  hesitation,  the  inflec- 
tion in  her  voice. 

II  AVK  you  any  photOKraphs  of  I-id;, 
Farren's |>arenls?  " 
"No." 

"  Yet  her  father  was  your  only  brother,  I 

understand?" 

"My  only  brother,  ycH." 

"What  decided  you  lo  adopt  Lady  Farren 
as  a  child?" 

"The  mother  was  dead,  and  my  brother 
did  not  know  how  to  lake  care  of  licr.  Slie 
was  a  delicate  child.  \N  e  bfjlh  of  us  fell  il  was 
the  best  sf>lulion." 

"Of  course  your  brother  made  you  an  al- 
lowance for  the  child's  upkeep  and  educa- 
tion?" 

"Naturally.  I  couldn't  have  managed 
otherwise."  Then  Miss  Marsh  made  a  mis- 
lake.  Bui  for  this  one  mistake.  Black  might 
have  lei  the  whole  thing  go.  "You  ask  the 
most  extraordinarily  remote  <)uestions.  Mr. 
Black,"  she  said  with  a  hard  little  laugh.  "I 
don't  see  that  the  allowance  paid  to  me  by 
Mary's  father  can  be  of  the  slightest  interest 
lo  you.  What  you  want  lo  know  is  why  poor 
Mary  killed  herself,  and  so  does  her  husband, 
and  so  do  1." 

"Anything  even  remotely  connected  with 
Lady  Farren's  past  life  is  of  interest  to  me," 
said  Black.  "You  see.  Sir  John  has  employed 
me  for  thai  very  purpose.  Perhaps  il  is  lime 
that  I  explained  to  you  I  am  not  a  personal 
friend  of  his.  I  am  a  private  detective." 

Miss  Marsh  turned  gray.  Her  composure 
went.  She  became  suddenly  a  very  frightened 
old  woman.  "What  have  you  come  to  find 
out?"  she  said. 

"Everything,"  said  Black. 

Now  it  was  a  favorite  theory  of  the  Scot's, 
which  he  often  expounded  lo  the  director  of 
the  agency  for  which  he  worked,  that  there 
are  very  few  people  in  this  world  who 
haven't  got  something  to  hide.  Time  and 
time  again  he  had  seen  men  and  women  in 
the  witness  box.  under  cross-examination, 
and  one  and  all  were  afraid:  not  of  the  ques- 
tions put  to  them,  which  ihey  must  answer, 
and  which  might  shed  light  on  the  particular 
case  then  under  trial,  but  that  in  answering 
the  questions  they  would,  by  some  mishap, 
by  some  slip  of  the  tongue,  reveal  some  per- 
sonal secret  pertaining  to  themselves  which 
would  discredit  ihem. 

Black  was  certain  that  Miss  Marsh  found 
herself  in  this  position  now.  She  might  know 
nothing  of  Mary  Farren's  suicide,  or  of  its 
cause.  But  Miss  Marsh  herself  was  guilty  of 
something  that  she  had  long  sought  to  hide. 

"If  Sir  John  has  found  out  about  the  al- 
lowance and  thinks  I  have  been  defrauding 
Mary  all  these  years,  he  might  have  had  the 
decency  to  tell  me  himself,  and  not  employ  a 
detective."  she  said. 

Oli-lio,  here  we  go,  thought  Black.  Ghe  the 
old  lady  enough  rope  and  she'll  hang  herself. 

"Sir  John  did  not  mention  the  word 
'fraud.'"  he  replied  to  Miss  Marsh.  "He 
merely  thought  the  circumstances  were 
rather  strange." 

Black  was  taking  a  chance,  but  he  felt  the 
result  might  be  worth  it. 


114 


1,    A     I)     I      i;     S  '         II     O     [Vl     K         ,1     U     LI     U     IN     A  1, 


.Janiiary,  1953 


"Of  course  they  were  strange,"  said  Miss 
Marsh.  "  I  tried  to  act  for  the  best,  and  I  be- 
lieved I  did.  I  can  swear  to  you,  Mr.  Black, 
that  I  used  very  little  money  on  myself,  and 
that  the  most  part  of  it  went  for  Mary's  up- 
keep, according  to  the  agreement  with  the 
child's  father.  When  Mary  married,  and  as 
it  happened  married  well,  I  did  not  think 
there  was  any  harm  in  keeping  the  capital  for 
myself.  Sir  John  was  rich,  and  Mary  would 
not  miss  it." 

"I  take  it."  said  Black,  "that  Lady  Far- 
ren  knew  nothing  of  what  was  going  on, 
financially?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Miss  Marsh.  "She  was 
never  interested  in  money  matters,  and  she 
believed  herself  entirely  dependent  on  me. 
You  don't  think  Sir  John  is  going  to  pros- 
ecute me,  Mr.  Black  ?  If  he  won  a  case  against 
me,  I  should  be  destitute." 

Black  stroked  his  chin  and  pretended  to 
consider.  "I  don't  think  Sir  John  intends 
anything  of  the  sort.  Miss  Marsh,"  he  said. 
"But  he  would  like  to  know  the  truth  of 
what  happened." 

Miss  Marsh  sank  back  in  her  wheel  chair. 
No  longer  stiff  and  upright,  she  looked  a 
tired  old  lady.  "Now  that  Mary  is  dead,  it 
can't  hurt  her,  the  truth  coming  out,"  she 
said.  "The  fact  is,  Mr.  Black,  she  wasn't  my 
niece  at  all.  I  was  paid  a  large  sum  of  money 
to  look  after  her.  The  money  should  have 
gone  to  her  on  her  majority,  but  I  kept  it  my- 
self. Mary's  father,  with  whom  I  signed  the 
agreement,  had  died  in  the  meantime.  Liv- 
ing here,  in  Switzerland,  no  one  knew  any- 
thing about  the  matter.  It  was  so  simple  to 
keep  it  secret.  I  intended  no  harm." 

It  was  always  the  way,  thought  Black. 
Temptation  came  to  a  man,  or  a  woman, 
and  they  gave  way  to  it.  They  never  "in- 
tended" harm. 

"I  see,"  he  said.  "Well,  Miss  Marsh,  I 
don't  want  to  go  into  the  details  of  what  you 
did,  or  how  you  spent  the  money  intended 
for  Lady  Farren.  What  does  interest  me  is 
this:  if  she  wasn't  your  niece,  who  was  she?  " 

"She  was  the  only  daughter  of  a  Mr. 
Henry  Warner.  That  is  all  I  ever  knew.  He 
never  told  me  his  address,  or  where  he  lived. 
All  I  knew  was  the  address  of  his  bankers, 
and  the  branch  in  LQndon ;  four  checks  were 
paid  to  me  from  that  address.  After  I  took 
Mary  in  my  care,  Mr.  Warner  went  to  Can- 
ada, and  died  there  five  years  later.  The 
bank  informed  me  of  this,  and  as  I  never 
heard  from  them  again,  I  believed  myself 
safe  to  do . . .  what  I  did . . .  with  her  money." 

Black  noted  the  name  "Henry  Warner" 
and  Miss  Marsh  gave  him  the  address  of  the 
bank.  "Mr.  Warner  was  not  a  personal  friend 
of  yours?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  no.  I  only  met  him  twice.  The  first 
time  was  when  I  answered  his  advertisement 
to  a  box  number,  for  someone  to  take  charge, 
indefinitely,  of  a  delicate  girl.  I  was  very 
poor  at  the  time,  and  had  just  lost  a  post  as 
governess  to  an  English  family  returning  to 
England.  I  did  not  want  to  take  a  position  in 
a  school,  and  this  advertisement  came  as  a 
godsend,  especially  as  the  sum  to  be  paid  for 
the  child's  upkeep,  which  the  father  intended 
to  accumulate,  was  so  generous.  I  knew  I 
should  be  able  to  live  as  I  had,  frankly,  never 
lived  before.  You  can  hardly  blame  me." 

Something  of  her  former  confidence  was 
returning.  She  looked  sharply  at  Black. 

"I  am  not  blaming  you,"  he  said.  "Tell 
me  more  about  Henry  Warner." 

"There  is  little  to  tell,"  she  said.  "He 
asked  very  few  questions  about  myself  or 
my  background.  The  only  point  he  made 
clear  was  that  he  wanted  Mary  to  remain 
with  me  for  good;  he  had  no  intention  of 
having  her  back  with  him  again,  or  corre- 
sponding with  her.  He  planned  to  go  to  Can- 
ada, he  told  me,  and  cut  himself  off  from  all 
former  connections.  I  was  entirely  free  to 
bring  up  his  daughter  as  I  thought  fit.  In 
other  words,  he  washed  his  hands  of  her." 

"A  callous  sort  of  customer?"  suggested 
Black. 

"Not  exactly  callous,"  replied  Miss 
Marsh.  "He  looked  anxious  and  careworn, 
as  though  the  responsibility  of  looking  after 
the  child  had  been  too  much  for  him.  His 
wife  apparently  was  dead.  Then  I  inquired 


in  what  way  his  daughter  was  delicate,  be- 
cause I  knew  little  of  nursing,  and  did  not 
particularly  relish  an  ailing  child.  He  ex- 
plained to  me  that  she  was  not  physically 
delicate,  but  that  she  had  witnessed  a  terrible 
train  accident  a  few  months  previously,  and 
the  shock  of  this  had  caused  her  to  lose  her 
memory.  She  was  perfectly  normal  other- 
wise, perfectly  sane.  But  she  remembered 
nothing  previous  to  the  shock.  She  did  not 
even  know  he  was  her  lather.  This  was  the 
reason,  he  told  me,  why  he  wanted  her  to 
begin  a  new  life  in  another  country." 

Black  jotted  down  some  notes.  The  case 
at  last  was  beginning  to  show  possibilities. 
"So  you  were  willing  to  take  the  risk  of  hav- 
ing this  child— suffering  from  mental 
shock— on  your  hands  for  life?"  he  asked. 
He  had  not  intended  his  question  to  be 
cynical,  but  Miss  Marsh  flushed. 

"  I  am  used  to  teaching,  and  used  to  chil- 
dren," she  said.  "Also,  independence  was 
dear  to  me.  I  accepted  Mr.  Warner's  offer,  on 
condition  I  took  to  the  child  and  the  child 
took  to  me.  At  our  second  meeting  he 
brought  Mary  with  him.  It  was  impossible 
not  to  feel  an  affection  for  her  at  once.  That 
pretty  little  face,  those  large  eyes,  and  the 
soft,  gentle  manner.  She  seemed  quite  nor- 
mal, but  young  for  her  age.  I  chatted  with 
her,  and  asked  her  if  she  would  like  to  come 
and  stay  with  me,  and  she  said  she  would; 
she  put  her  hand  in  mine  in  the  most  con- 
fiding way.  I  told  Mr.  Warner  'Yes'  and  the 
bargain  was  struck.  He  left  Mary  with  me 
that  evening,  and  we  neither  of  us  ever  saw 
him  again.  It  was  easy  enough  to  tell 
the  child  she  was  my  niece,  as  she  remem- 
bered nothing  of  her  past;  she  accepted  any- 
thing I  cared  to  tell  her  about  herself  as  gos- 
pel truth.  It  was  all  too  easy." 

"And  from  that  day  she  did  not  once  re- 
cover her  memory.  Miss  Marsh?" 

"Never.  Life  began  for  her  when  her  fa- 
ther handed  her  over  to  me  at  that  hotel  in 
Lausanne,  and  it  really  began  for  me  too.  I 
could  not  have  loved  her  better  had  she  been 
in  truth  my  niece." 


Black  glanced  through  his  notes,  and  put 
them  in  his  pocket. 

"So  beyond  the  fact  that  you  knew  she 
was  the  daughter  of  a  Mr.  Henry  Warner, 
you  were  completely  ignorant  as  to  her  back- 
ground?" he  asked. 

"Completely,"  said  Miss  Marsh. 

"She  was  merely  a  little  girl  five  years  old 
who  had  lost  her  memory?  " 

"Fifteen,"  corrected  Miss  Marsh. 

"How  do  you  mean,  fifteen?"  said  Black. 

Miss  Marsh  flushed  again.  "I  forgot,"  she 
said.  "  I  misled  you,  earlier  in  the  afternoon. 
I  always  told  Mary,  and  everybody  else, 
that  I  had  adopted  my  niece  when  she  was 
five.  It  made  it  so  much  easier  for  me,  and 
easier  for  Mary,  too,  because  she  remem- 
bered nothing  of  her  life  previous  to  the 
time  she  came  to  live  with  me.  She  was,  in 
point  of  fact,  fifteen.  You  will  realize  now 
why  I  have  no  snapshots,  or  photographs,  of 
Mary  as  a  child." 

"Indeed  yes,"  said  Black.  "And  I  must 
thank  you.  Miss  Marsh,  for  being  so  help- 
ful. I  don't  think  Sir  John  is  likely  to  raise 
any  questions  about  the  money,  and  for  the 
present,  at  any  rate,  I  shall  keep  the  whole 
story  of  what  you  have  told  me  as  entirely 
confidential.  What  I  now  have  to  find  out  is 
where  Lady  Farren— Mary  Warner— was 
living  for  the  first  fifteen  years  of  her  life, 
and  what  that  life  was.  It  may  have  some 
bearing  on  the  suicide." 

Miss  Marsh  rang  for  her  companion  to 
show  Black  out.  She  had  not  quite  recovered 
her  equanimity.  "There  is  only  one  thing 
that  has  always  puzzled  me,"  she  said.  "I 
feel  her  father,  Henry  Warner,  did  not  speak 
the  truth.  Mary  showed  no  fear  of  trains  at 
any  time,  and  though  I  made  several  in- 
quiries of  many  people,  I  could  learn  of  no 
severe  train  accident  that  had  happened  in 
England— or  anywhere  else,  for  that  mat- 
ter—during the  months  before  Mary  came 
to  me." 

Black  returned  to  London,  but  he  did  not 
get  in  touch  with  Sir  John  Farren,  because 


By  MARCELENE  COX 


OF  course  I  believe  in  horoscopes," 
afifirmed  Daughter  No.  3.  "Last 
Thursday,  mine  said  I  would  attract  atten- 
tion, and  I  did." 

Gossip:  one  medium  of  exchange  that 
can't  be  redeemed. 

Untying  the  strings.  Auntie  Dea  said,  "  I 
promised  myself  years  ago  I'd  never  sit 
down  with  my  apron  on,  but  sometimes 
now  I'm  tempted." 

From  the  gang's  club  notes:  "The  meet- 
ing was  out  of  order.  Afterwards  we  assem- 
bled outside.  There  was  the  problem  of 
some  resigners  but  since  we  do  not  like  re- 
signers  they  couldn't." 

Foice  versus  Faith:  Man  uses  a  double 
thread  and  a  double  knot,  woman  a  single 
thread  and  no  knot. 

Our  great-aunt  speaks:  "I'm  thankful 
we  didn't  have  that  cover-up  chlorophyll 
when  I  was  choosing  a  life  mate.  Glory  be ! 
I  might  have  married  Willie  Perkins ! " 

Nature's  helping  hand:  The  longer  a 
woman  wears  her  wedding  ring  the  less 
easily  it  slides  off. 

Child's  description  of  his  teacher:  "Well, 
she's  like  Aunt  Frieda;  you  can't  tell  if 
she's  young  or  old;  but  she  runs  around  a 
lot." 


The  marriageable  daughter  of  a  neighbor 
says  she  eliminated  one  young  gentleman 
when  she  observed  that  he  always  ordered 
the  same  thing  every  day  for  lunch.  "A 
man  like  that !  If  you  changed  food  on  him 
he'd  have  a  breakdown." 

Contributed  from  the  editorial  offices: 
At  16,  love  is  as  short-lived  as  a  bee  sting. 

Question  from  our  youngest : "  Why  don't 
you  and  daddy  buy  a  convertible  before 
you  get  too  old?" 

Young  boy:  "But  I  don't  want  to  brush 
my  teeth,  I  want  to  keep  my  pie  taste." 

A  man  is  known  by  the  clothes  she  wea||. 

Worse  than  finding  half  a  worm  in  an 
apple,  after  eating  most  of  it,  is  finding  one 
black  sock  on  the  floor,  when  the  washing  is 
nearly  done. 

The  most  tactful  woman  I  know  has  only 
one  photograph  on  display  in  her  house— a 
picture  of  her  mother-in-law. 

"Thank  heaven!"  sighed  a  relieved 
mother,  after  learning  her  son's  I.  Q.  "It's 
nice  to  know  he  has  brains,  in  the  event  he 
ever  decides  to  use  them." 

Gossip  spreads  to  gossips  the  way  the 
odor  from  a  freshly  opened  can  of  fish 
spreads  to  cats. 


he  thought  it  best  to  wait  until  he  had  more 
definite  news  to  communicate. 

It  seemed  to  him  unnecessary  to  reveal 
the  truth  about  Miss  Marsh  and  the  adop- 
tion. It  would  only  unsettle  Sir  John  fur- 
ther, and  it  was  hardly  likely  that  this  fact 
had  suddenly  come  to  light  and  driven  hk 
wife  to  suicide.  The  more  intriguing  possibil- 
ity was, that  Lady  Farren  had  received  a 
shock  which,  in  the  timing  of  a  moment,  had, 
pierced  the  veil  which  had  shrouded  hei 
memory  for  nineteen  years. 

It  was  Black's  business  to  discover  the 
nature  of  that  shock.  The  first  thing  he  did  in, 
London  was  to  go  to  the  branch  of  the  bank 
where  Henry  Warner  had  kept  an  account 
He  saw  the  manager,  and  explained  his  mis- 
sion. 

It  appeared  that  Henry  Warner  had  in- 
deed gone  to  Canada,  had  married  agair 
when  he  was  out  there,  and  had  subsequently 
died.  The  widow  had  written,  closing  the  ac-" 
count  in  England.  Yes,  the  manager  knew' 
about  the  daughter  of  the  first  marriage.  Sht 
had  been  adopted  by  a  Miss  Marsh,  ir 
Switzerland.  Checks  had  been  paid  to  Misi 
Marsh,  and  they  ceased  when  Henry  Warnei 
married  a  second  time.  The  only  positive  in 
formation  that  the  bank  manager  could  give' 
Black  which  might  be  helpful  was  Henri 
Warner's  old  address.  And  the  piece  of  news! 
which  Henry  Warner  had  certainly  not  tolc 
Miss  Marsh:  that  his  profession  was  th<' 
Church,  and  that  at  the  time  Miss  Mars! 
had  adopted  his  daughter  he  was  vicar  o 
All  Saints',  in  the  parish  of  Long  Common; 
Hampshire. 

Black  traveled  down  to  Hampshire  with  i 
pleasurable  feeling  of  anticipation.  He  al 
ways  began  to  enjoy  himself  when  the  clue; 
began  to  unravel.  It  reminded  him  of  boy^ 
hood  days  of  hide-and-seek.  It  was  his  inter ji 
est  in  the  unexpected  that  had  called  him  t(j 
be  a  private  detective  in  the  first  place,  anc 
he  had  never  regretted  his  call. 

He  believed  in  keeping  an  open  minci 
about  his  case,  but  it  was  difficult  not  to  sec 
the  Reverend  Henry  Warner  as  the  villair| 
of  this  piece.  The  sudden  handing  over  of ; 
mentally  sick  daughter  to  a  perfect  strange 
abroad,  and  then  cutting  himself  loose  fron 
her,  and  going  to  Canada,  seemed  an  ex; 
traordinarily  heartless  thing  for  a  clergymar^ 
to  do.  Black  smelled  scandal,  and  if  the  tain, 
still  lingered  in  Long  Common  after  nine, 
teen  years,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  ferre 
out  what  the  scandal  had  been. 

Black  put  up  at  the  local  inn,  describin; 
himself  as  a  writer  on  old  churches  in  Hamp 
shire;  and  with  this  same  excuse,  he  wrote  i 
polite  note  to  the  present  incumbent  of  Al' 
Saints',  asking  if  he  might  call. 

His  wish  was  granted,  and  the  vicar,  ^ 
young  man,  an  enthusiast  on  architecture 
showed  him  every  corner  of  the  church  frorii 
nave  to  belfry,  with  a  wealth  of  detail  abou 
fifteenth-century  carving. 

Black  listened  politely,  disguising  his  owi 
ignorance,  and  finally  led  the  vicar  round  t( 
talking  of  his  predecessors. 

Unfortunately,  the  present  vicar  had  beer 
at  Long  Common  for  only  six  years,  and  h( 
knew  little  about  Warner,  who  had  been  sue 
ceeded  by  someone  who  had  moved  to  Hull 
but  Warner  had  definitely  held  the  living  fo] 
twelve  years,  and  his  wife  was  buried  in  the 
churchyard. 

Black  saw  the  grave,  and  noted  the  head 
stone:  "Emily  Mary,  dearly  beloved  wife  o 
Henry  Warner,  who  passed  to  rest,  safe  ir 
the  arms  of  Jesus."  He  also  noted  the  date 
The  daughter  Mary  would  have  been  ter 
years  old  at  the  time. 

Yes,  said  the  present  vicar,  he  had  heard 
that  Warner  had  given  up  the  living  in  i 
great  hurry,  and  gone  to  the  dominions- 
Canada,  he  believed.  Some  of  the  people  ir 
the  village  would  remember  him,  especiallj 
the  older  ones.  Possibly  his  own  gardenei 
would  remember  most.  He  had  been  gar- 
dener at  the  rectory  for  thirty  years. 

But  as  far  as  he,  the  vicar,  knew,  Wamei 
had  not  been  a  historian  or  a  collector;  he 
had  done  no  research  work  on  the  church.  I: 
Mr.  Black  would  care  to  come  to  the  rectory 
he,  the  present  vicar,  had  many  interesting 
books  on  Long  Common  history. 


II  ()  \i  I 


II 


I. 


Mr.  Black  excused  himself.  He  had  ko(  all 
he  wanted  out  of  the  present  incumbent.  lie 
fell  that  an  evening  al  the  bar  of  tlie  iim 
where  he  was  staying  would  |)n)vc  rnoic 
prolitable,  rmd  it  did. 

He  learned  no  more  about  lifleenth-ceu- 
tury  carviuM,  bul  a  K'>od  deal  alK)ul  tlic 
Reverend  Henry  Warner. 

The  vicar  had  been  respected  in  the  par- 
ish, but  never  deei)ly  liked,  because  of  his 
riuid  views  and  his  intolerance.  He  was  not 
the  sort  of  man  to  whom  his  parishioners 
went  wlii'n  they  were  in  trouble;  he  was  al- 
ways more  likely  to  condemn  than  to  con- 
sole. He  never  entered  the  bar  of  the  inn. 
never  nuxed  in  friendly  fashion  with  the 
humble. 

He  was  known  to  have  private  means,  and 
he  was  not  dependent  on  his  benelice.  He 
liked  to  be  invited  to  the  few  lar^e  iiouses  in 
llie  neinhborliood.  because  lie  placed  social 
values  hinh;  but  he  had  not  been  particu- 
larly popular  tliere  either. 

In  sliort.  the  Reverend  Henry  Warner  had 
been  an  intolerant,  narrow-minded  snob, 
which  were  three  poor  ([ualilies  for  a  vicar  to 
liold.  His  wife,  on  the  contrary,  had  been 
much  loved  by  all,  and  it  had  Ix'en  univer- 
sally regretted  wiien  slie  died  after  an  opera- 
tion for  cancer,  Slie  had  been  a  most  sweet- 
tempered  lady,  very  thoughtful  for  others, 
most  kindliearted,  and  her  little  gir\  took 
after  her. 

Had  the  child  been  much  affected  by  her 
mother's  death? 

No  one  remembered.  It  was  thought  not. 
She  went  away  to  school,  and  was  home  only 
during  the  holidays.  One  or  two  recollected 
her  riding  about  on  her  bicycle,  a  pretty, 
friendly  little  thing.  The  gardener  and  his 
wife  had  acted  as  married  couple  for  the 
Reverend  Henry  Warner,  I  he  same  gardener 
that  was  up  at  the  rectory  now.  Old  Harris. 
No,  he  did  not  come  down  to  the  pub  of  an 
evening.  He  was  a  teetotaler.  He  lived  up 
in  one  of  the  cottages  near  the  church.  No, 
liis  wife  was  dead.  He  lived  with  a  married 
daughter.  He  was  a  great  rose  fancier,  and 
won  prizes  for  his  roses  every  year  at  the 
local  show. 

Black  finished  his  pint  and  departed.  The 
evening  was  yet  young.  He  dropped  out  of 
his  disguise  as  a  writer  on  old  Hampshire 
:hurches,  and  slipped  into  the  role  of  a  col- 
lector of  Hampshire  roses.  He  found  old 
Harris  smoking  a  pipe  outside  his  cottage, 
rhere  were  roses  growing  up  his  fence. 
Black  stopped  to  admire  them.  The  con- 
i'ersation  was  launched. 

It  took  him  the  best  part  of  an  hour  to 
ead  Harris  from  roses  to  past  vicars,  from 
Dast  vicars  to  Warner,  from  Warner  to  Mrs. 
Warner,  from  Mrs.  Warner  to  Mary  Warner, 
3ut  the  picture  unfolded,  and  there  was  noth- 
ng  very  remarkable  to  see  in  it.  The  same 
:ale  that  he  had  heard  in  the  village  was  re- 
peated, 

Fhe  Reverend  Henry  Warner  was  a  hard 
nan,  not  given  to  being  friendly-like;  very 
iparing,  he  was,  with  his  praises.  Took  no 
nterest  in  the  garden.  Stuck-up  sort  of  chap. 
But  down  on  you  like  a  ton  of  bricks  if  any- 
hing  was  wrong.  The  lady  was  very  differ- 
ent. Proper  shame  when  she  died.  Miss  Mary 
vas  a  nice  child  too.  His  wife  had  been  very 
bnd  of  Miss  Mary.  Nothing  stuck  up  or 
)roud  about  her. 

"I  suppose  the  Reverend  Mr.  Warner 
;ave  up  the  living  because  he  was  lonely 
ifter  Mrs.  Warner  died?"  said  Black,  offer- 
ng  Harris  some  of  his  own  tobacco. 

"No,  it  wasn't  nothing  to  do  with  that, 
t  was  along  of  Miss  Mary's  health,  and  her 
laving  to  live  abroad,  after  being  so  ill  with 
he  rheumatic  fever.  They  went  off  to  Cau- 
da, and  we  never  heard  from  them  no 
nore." 

"Rheumatic  fever?"  said  Black.  "That's 
,  nasty  thing  to  get." 

"It  wasn't  anything  to  do  with  the  beds 
lere,"  said  old  Harris.  "My  wife  kept  the 
ilace  aired,  and  looked  after  everything,  just 
s  she  used  to  when  Mrs.  Warner  was  living, 
t  was  at  school  Miss  Mary  caught  it,  and  I 
emember  saying  to  my  wife  that  the  vicar 
ught  to  sue  the  teachers  up  there  for  neg- 
ict.  The  child  nearly  died  of  it." 


Black  fingered  the  nm  Harris  had  picked 
or  him,  and  pLurd  il  neatly  in  hm  button- 

hole. 

"  Why  didn't  the  vicar  su.-  the  sclKKil?" 
lie  asked. 

"He  never  told  us  if  he  did  (.r  n<.l."  tuiid 
I  he  gardener.  "All  we  was  told  was  to  pack 
up  Miss  Mary's  things,  and  si-nd  them  oil  to 
the  address  in  Cornwall  he  gave  us,  and  then 
to  gel  his  (,wn  things  |)acked,  and  dust  c<iv- 
ers  put  over  the  hirniture,  and  Muh-  we 
knew  what  was  happening  a  great  van  came 
to  pack  the  furniture  and  take  it  to  store  or 
to  be  sold  we  heard  afterw.irds  it  waH 
sold  and  then  that  the  vicar  had  given  up 
the  living  and  they  was  going  olf  to  Canada 
My  wife  was  most  upsc-t  alxnil  Miss  M;iry 
she  never  had  a  word  from  her  or  from  the 
vicar,  and  we  had  served  them  all  thos<- 
years." 

Black  agreed  that  it  was  a  \xx)r  return  for 
what  they  had  done.  "So  the  sc-liool  was  in 
Cornwall?"  he  observed.  "  I'm  not  sur- 
prised at  anyone  catching  rheumatic  fever  in 
Cornwall.  A  very  damp  county." 

"Oh,  no,  sir,"  said  old  I larris.  " Miss  Mary 
went  down  to  Cornwall  for  her  convales- 


Next  Monil 


'  I  lie  nivself  blue  in  I  In-  Jiiir  „n 
ihrir  silly  (incsliiiiiiKiirrs.  I  fio  iiriiiiiiil 
smiliufi  till  I  tliinic  my  fiirr  will 
crack.  I  cultivate  the  nu-rrv  wives  of 
Fuirlca,  borrow  tlicir  awful  rccifirs, 
admire  their  chililn  II  .  .  .  "' 

MICnKLI.K  knew  she  wuh  he- 
in;;  wali  hed.  Kverylhiiif;  she 
(lid  and  said  went  Klrai>;lil  inlo  a 
liltle  lile  marked  "\W"— uliieh 
meani  IOxe<  iitive'.s  W  ife.  \n<l  if 
there  were  loo  many  hiack  mark.s 
by  her  name,  Calitex  Company 
mi<;liC  not  approve. 

Read  ihe  anuisinf;,  liearl-warniin^ 
slory  of  a  I)ride  who  <lis<'overs  she 
lives  in  a  i;las8  honse — and  does 
soinelhiii;;  al)oul  il. 

FIREWORKS 
FOR  MICHELLE 

By  Edward  Hope 

Novel  complete 
in  the  February  Journal 


cence.  Place  called  Carnleath,  I  believe  it 
was.  She  was  at  school  at  Hythe,  in  Kent." 

"  I  have  a  daughter  at  school  near  Hythe," 
lied  Black  with  ease.  "I  hope  it's  not  the 
same  place.  What  was  the  name  of  Miss 
Mary's  school?" 

"Couldn't  tell  you,  sir,"  said  old  Harris, 
shaking  his  head,  "it's  too  long  ago.  But  I 
remember  Miss  Mary  saying  it  was  a  lovely 
place,  right  on  the  sea,  and  she  was  very 
happy  there,  fond  of  the  games  and  that." 

"Ah,"  said  Black,  "can't  be  the  same 
then.  My  daughter's  school  is  inland.  It's 
funny  how  people  get  hold  of  the  wrong  end 
of  the  stick.  I  heard  Mr.  Warner's  name 
spoken  down  in  the  village  this  evening  — 
queer  if  you  hear  a  name  once  in  a  day  you 
hear  it  again— and  someone  was  saying  the 
reason  they  went  to  Canada  was  because  the 
daughter  had  been  badly  injured  in  a  train 
accident." 

Old  Harris  laughed  scornfully.  "Them  fel- 
lows at  the  pub  will  say  anything  when 
they've  a  drop  of  beer  inside  them,"  he  said. 
"Train  accident  indeed.  Why,  the  whole  vil- 
lage knew  at  the  time  it  was  rheumatic 
fever,  and  that  the  vicar  was  almost  out  of 
his  mind  with  the  worry  of  it,  being  sent  for 
so  sudden  up  to  the  school  and  all.  I've  never 
seen  a  man  so  demented.  To  tell  you  the 
truth,  neither  the  wife  nor  myself  had  ever 
thought  him  so  fond  of  Miss  Mary  until 
that  happened.  He  used  to  neglect  her,  we 
thought.  She  was  so  much  her  mother's  girl. 
But  his  face  was  terrible  when  he  came  back 
from  being  sent  for,  to  the  school,  and  he  said 


IK 


lo  my  wife  that  il  wan  Un  f .  ' 
hear!  teacher  there  for  n 
I'lione  were  hiN  word*  Ltv. 

"I'erh;i|w,  "«nd  Black. 
coiiHCience,  and  blaim  d  i  ! 
led,  when  at  heart  he  bkn  ,i  " 

"Could  Ik-."  Hind  old  H...:,  ,.,iild  Ijc, 
He'd  always  hxjk  for  ilie  fault  in  oHm-T 

fellow  " 

lll.At  K  considered  the  tune  had  come  to 
pass  from  the  Warners  lo  the  r<i*es  (*fMx- 
again.  He  lingered  live  more  niinuliit,  rruidc 
a  note  of  the  blooms  recommended  for  plant- 
ing by  an  amateur  like  liiinseir  who  wanted 
(|uick  results,  s;nd  vs*x\  evening,  and  went 
back  to  the  inn.  I  |e  sl«  pt  Houndly,  and  caught 
the  lirsi  tram  l)a(k  to  l>ondoii  in  the  morn- 
ing. He  did  not  think  he  wmild  wrure  any 
more  information  at  I^mg  t^imiiKin  In  the 
afternrxiii  he  t(K)k  a  train  lo  Hythe.  On  tliiH 
exiK-dilion  he  did  not  lx)iher  the  local  vicar, 
but  addressed  himself  to  the  managerens  of 
his  hotel. 

"1  am  looking  around  the  coast  for  a 
suitable  school  for  my  daughter,"  he  said, 
"and  I  understand  that  there  are  one  or  two 
in  this  part  of  the  world  that  are  very  grxxl 
indeed.  I  wonder  if  ycni  hapi)en  to  know  the 
names  of  any  you  could  recommend?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  the  manageress,  "there 
are  two  very  gtxxl  scIkxjIs  in  Hythe.  There  is 
Miss  Braddock's,  up  al  the  lop  of  the  hill, 
and  of  course  there  is  St.  Bee's,  the  big  co- 
educational scIuxjI,  righl  on  the  front.  Here, 
at  the  hotel,  we  mostly  gel  parents  with  chil- 
dren at  St.  liee's." 

"Coeducational?"  said  Black.  "Has  it  al- 
ways been  so?" 

"Since  it  was  first  founded,  thirty  years 
ago,"  said  the  manageress.  "Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Johnson  are  still  the  principals,  though  of 
course  they  are  both  elderly  now.  It's  very 
well  run,  and  has  an  excellent  tone.  I  know 
there  is  sometimes  prejudice  against  a  co- 
educational school,  h)ecause  ijeople  say  it 
makes  the  girls  masculine  and  the  boys 
effeminate,  but  I've  never  seen  a  sign  of  that 
myself.  The  children  always  look  very  happy 
and  just  like  other  children,  and  they  only 
take  them  up  to  fifteen  anyway.  Would  you 
care  for  me  to  make  an  appointment  for  you 
to  see  either  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Johnson?  I  know 
them  W'ell." 

Mr.  Black  wondered  if  she  got  a  commis- 
sion on  pupils  to  whose  parents  she  had  rec- 
ommended the  school.  "Thank  you  very 
much,"  he  said.  "I  would  be  pleased  if  you 
would."  The  appointment  was  made  for 
eleven-thirty  the  next  morning. 

Black  was  surprised  at  St.  Bee's  being  co- 
educational. He  had  not  thought  that  the 
Reverend  Henry  Warner  would  have  been 
open-minded  on  mixed  tuition.  St.  Bee's  it 
must  be,  however,  from  the  description  given 
by  old  Harris,  the  gardener.  St.  Bee's  was 
certainly  facing  the  sea,  with  a  fine  surround. 
The  other  school.  Miss  Braddock's,  was 
tucked  away  behind  the  hill  at  the  top  of  the 
town,  with  hardly  any  view  at  all,  and  no 
playing  fields.  Black  had  made  sure  of  this 
by  going  to  look  at  the  outside  before  keep- 
ing his  appointment  at  St.  Bee's. 

A  smell  of  shining  linoleum,  scrubbed 
floors  and  varnish  greeted  him  as  he  stood  at 
the  entrance,  having  mounted  the  school 
steps.  A  parlormaid  answered  his  ring,  and 
showed  him  into  a  large  study  on  the  right 
of  the  hall.  An  elderly  man  with  a  bald  head, 
horn  spectacles  and  an  effusive  smile  rose  to 
his  feet,  and  greeted  him. 

"Glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Black,"  he  said. 
"So  you  are  looking  for  a  school  for  your 
daughter?  I  hope  you  are  going  to  leave  St. 
Bee's  believing  that  you  have  found  it." 

Mr.  Black  summed  him  up  in  a  word. 
Salesman,  he  said  to  himself.  Aloud  he  pro- 
ceeded to  spin  a  neat  yam  about  his  daugh- 
ter Phyllis,  who  was  just  reaching  the  awk- 
ward age, 

"Awkward?"  said  Mr.  Johnson.  "Then 
St.  Bee's  is  the  place  for  Phyllis.  We  have  no 
awkward  children  here.  All  the  odd  spots  get 
rubbed  ofT.  We  pride  ourselves  on  our  happy, 
healthy  boys  and  girls.  Come  and  have  a  look 
at  them." 

He  clapped  Black  upon  the  back,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  lead  him  round  the  school.  Black 


Aching  feet  can  put  lines 
in  your  face! 

•  When  sore,  tired  feet  make  every 
step  .stab  you  with  pain,  your  nerves 
grow  tense  .  .  .  your  face  looks  tense! 
And  worse,  those  tiny  pain-lines  may 
deepen  into  old-looking  wrinkles. 

Watch  out!  At  the  first  sign  of  pain- 
ful foot  fatigue,  it  pays  to  rub  your 
feet  with  Absorbine  Jr. 

Medically  recognized  for  quick, 
effective  help,  Absorbine  Jr.  soothes 
the  sore  spots  .  .  .  counters  the  pain- 
causing  irritation  .  .  .  brings  grand 
relief  in  minutes'. 

When  your  feet  feel  better,  you  feel 
better  .  .  .  and  your  face  shows  it!  Get 
Absorbine  Jr.  wherever  drugs  are  sold 
.  .  .  $1.25  a  long-lasting  bottle,  mail 

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I  Absorbine  Jr. — postpaid.  j 

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116 


LADIES'       JIOME  JOURNAL 


January,  1953 


was  not  interested  in  schools,  coeducational 
or  otherwise;  he  was  interested  only  in  Mary 
Warner's  rheumatic  fever  of  nineteen  years 
ago.  But  he  was  a  patient  man,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  shown  every  classroom,  every 
dormitory— the  two  wings  were  separated 
for  the  two  sexes— the  gymnasium,  the 
swimming  pool,  the  lecture  hall,  the  playing 
fields,  and  finally  the  kitchen.  He  then  re- 
turned with  a  triumphant  Mr.  Johnson  to 
the  study. 

"Well,  Mr.  Black?"  said  the  principal, 
smiling  behind  his  horn  rims.  "And  are  we  to 
be  allowed  to  have  Phyllis?" 

Black  sat  back  and  folded  his  hands,  the 
picture  of  a  fond  father.  "Yours  is  a  delight- 
ful school,"  he  said,  "but  I  must  tell  you 
that  we  have  to  be  very  careful  of  Phyllis's 
health.  She  is  not  a  strong  child,  and  gets 
cold  very  easily.  I  am  only  wondering 
whether  the  air  might  not  be  too  strong  for 
her." 

R.  JOHNSON  laughed,  and  opening  a 
drawer  in  his  desk,  took  out  a  book.  "My  dear 
Mr.  Black,"  he  said,  "St.  Bee's  has  one  of  the 
best  health  records  of  any  school  in  England. 
A  child  develops  a  cold.  He  or  she  is  isolated 
at  once.  That  cold  does  not  spread.  In  the 
winter  months,  noses  and  throats  are 
sprayed  as  a  matter  of  routine.  In  the  sum- 
mer months,  the  children  do  exercises  for  the 
lungs  in  front  of  open  windows.  We  have  not 
had  an  influenza  epidemic  for  five  years. 
One  case  of  measles  two  years  ago.  One  case 
of  whooping  cough  three  years  ago.  I  have 
here  a  list  of  illnesses  contracted  by  the  boys 
and  girls  over  the  years,  and  it  is  a  list  I  am 
proud  to  show  to  every  parent."  He  handed 
the  book  to  Mr.  Black,  who  took  it  with  evi- 
dence of  pleasure.  It  was  just  the  evidence  he 
wanted. 

"This  is  remarkable,"  he  said,  turning  the 
pages,  "and  of  course  modern  methods  of 
hygiene  have  helped  you  to  have  such  a  good 
health  record.  It  can't  have  been  the  same 
some  years  ago." 

"It  has  always  been  the  same,"  said  Mr. 
Johnson,  getting  up,  and  reaching  for  an- 
other volume  on  his  shelf.  "Choose  any  year 
you  fancy.  You  won't  catch  me  out." 

Without  hesitation  Black  chose  the  year 
that  Mary  Warner  had  been  removed  from 
the  school  by  her  father. 

Mr.  Johnson  raii  his  hand  along  the  vol- 
umes, and  produced  the  year  in  question. 
Black  turned  the  pages  in  search  of  rheu- 
matic fever.  There  were  cold  cases,  one 
broken  leg,  one  German  measles,  one  sprained 
ankle,  one  mastoid— but  not  the  case  he 
sought. 

"Have  you  ever  had  a  case  of  rheumatic 
fever?"  he  inquired.  "My  wife  is  particu- 
larly afraid  of  that  for  Phyllis." 

"Never."  said  Mr.  Johnson  firmly.  "We 
are  far  too  careful.  The  boys  and  girls  always 
have  a  rubdown  after  games,  and  the  linen 
and  clothing  are  most  scrupulously  aired." 

Black  shut  up  the  book.  He  decided  upon 
direct  tactics. 

"I  like  what  I  have  seen  of  St.  Bee's,"  he 
said,  "but  I  feel  I  must  be  frank  with  you. 
My  wife  was  given  a  list  of  schools,  with 
yours  amongst  it,  and  she  at  once  struck  it 
off  the  list  because  she  remembered  being 
very  put  off  it  by  a  friend  many  years  ago. 
This  friend  had  a  friend  .  .  .  you  know  how 
it  is,  but  the  long  and  short  of  it  was  that  the 
friend  was  obliged  to  remove  his  daughter 
from  St.  Bee's,  and  even  talked  of  suing  the 
school  for  criminal  negligence." 

Mr.  Johnson's  smile  had  gone.  His  eyes 
looked  small  behind  the  horn-rimmed 
glasses.  "I  should  be  very  much  obliged  if 
you  would  give  me  the  name  of  the  friend,"  he 
said  coldly. 

"Certainly,"  said  Black.  "The  friend 
afterwards  left  this  country  and  went  to 
Canada.  He  was  a  clergyman.  And  his  name 
was  the  Reverend  Henry  Warner." 

The  horn-rimmed  glasses  did  not  disguise 
the  odd,  wary  flicker  in  Mr.  Johnson's  eyes. 
He  ran  his  tongue  over  his  lips.  "The  Rev- 
erend Henry  Warner,"  he  said.  "Now  let  me 
see."  He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  seemed 
to  be  pondering.  Black,  trained  to  evasion, 
knew  that  the  principal  of  St.  Bee's  was 
thinking  hard,  and  playing  for  time. 


"'Criminal  negligence'  was  the  phrase 
used,  Mr.  Johnson,"  he  said.  "And  oddly 
enough  I  ran  across  a  relative  of  Warner's 
only  the  other  day,  who  happened  to  bring 
the  matter  up.  I  was  told  that  Mary  Warner 
nearly  died." 

Mr.  Johnson  took  off  his  horn  glasses  and  | 
slowly  polished  them.  His  expression  had  \ 
quite  changed.  The  overgenial  schoolmaster  , 
had  turned  into  the  hardheaded  business-  ; 
man. 

"You  obviously  know  the  story  from  the  :j 
relative's  point  of  view  only,"  he  said.  "Any  \ 
criminal  negligence  was  on  the  part  of  the  1 
father,  Henry  Warner,  and  not  on  ours." 

Black  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "How  can  a 
parent  be  sure?"  he  murmured.  His  words 
were  calculated  to  draw  the  principal  further. 

"How  can  you  be  sure?"  shouted  Mr. 
Johnson,  all  pretense  at  geniality  gone,  and 
slapping  his  hand  on  his  desk.  "Because  I 
would  have  you  know  that  Mary  Warner's 
case  was  one  isolated  incident  that  had  never 
happened  before  and  has  never  happened 
since. 

"We  were  careful  then.  And  we  are  careful 
now.  I  told  the  father  that  what  had  occurred 
must  have  occurred  during  the  holidays,  and 
most  definitely  and  finally  not  at  school.  He 
would  not  believe  me,  and  insisted  that  our 
boys  here  were  to  blame,  through  lack  of 
supervision.  I  had  every  boy  over  a  certain 
age  up  here  before  me,  in  this  very  room,  and 
questioned  them  privately.  My  boys  spoke 
the  truth.  They  were  not  to  blame.  It  was 
useless  to  try  and  get  any  sense  out  of  the 
girl  herself;  she  did  not  know  what  we  were 
talking  about,  or  what  we  were  asking  her.  I 
need  hardly  tell  you,  Mr.  Black,  that  the 
whole  thing  was  the  most  frightful  shock  to 
myself  and  my  wife,  and  to  the  whole  staff, 
and  the  story  is  one  which,  thank  God,  we 
have  lived  down,  and  which  we  had  hoped 
was  forgotten." 

His  face  showed  fatigue  and  strain.  The 
story  may  have  been  lived  down,  but  it  had 
definitely  not  been  forgotten,  by  the  princi- 
pal. 

"What  happened?"  asked  Black.  "Did 
Warner  tell  you  he  was  going  to  remove  his 
daughter?" 

"Did  he  tell  us?"  said  Mr.  Johnson.  "No, 
indeed,  we  told  him.  How  could  we  possibly 
keep  Mary  Warner  here  when  we  found  she 
was  five  months  pregnant?  " 


The  jigsaw  puzzle  was  fitting  together 
rather  nicely,  thought  Black.  It  was  re- 
markable how  the  pieces  came  to  hand  if 
you  set  your  mind  to  the  job.  Finding  out  the 
truth  through  other  people's  lies  was  always 
stimulating. 

First  Miss  Marsh ;  he  had  to  break  through 
her  iron  curtain.  The  Reverend  Henry  War- 
ner, too,  had  certainly  gone  out  of  his  way 
to  build  a  fictitious  barricade.  A  train  ac- 
cident to  one,  rheumatic  fever  to  another. 
Poor  devil,  what  a  shock  it  must  have  been 
to  him.  No  wonder  he  packed  his  daugh- 
ter off  to  Cornwall  to  hide  her  secret,  and 
shut  up  the  house,  and  left  the  neighborhood. 

Callous,  though,  to  wash  his  hands  of  her 
when  the  business  was  through.  The  loss  of 
memory  must  have  been  genuine  enough. 
But  Black  wondered  what  had  caused  this. 
Had  the  world  of  childhood  suddenly  be- 
come nightmare  to  a  schoolgirl  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen,  and  Nature  taken  charge  and  merci- 
fully blotted  out  what  had  happened? 

It  looked  this  way  to  Black.  But  he  was  a 
thorough  man,  he  was  being  paid  well  for  his 
time  of  research,  and  he  was  not  going  to  his 
client  with  a  tale  half  told.  It  must  be  the 
whole  story.  He  remembered  Carnleath  was 
the  place  where  Mary  Warner  had  gone  for 
her  convalescence  after  the  supposed  rheu- 
matic fever.  Black,  decided  to  go  there. 

The  firm  for  which  he  worked  supplied 
him  with  a  car,  and  Black  set  out.  It  oc- 
curred to  him  that  another  word  or  two  with 
old  Harris  the  gardener  might  prove  fruit- 
ful, and  as  it  was  on  his  way  to  the  west 
country,  he  stopped  off  at  Long  Common, 
bringing  as  excuse  a  small  rose  tree  which  he 
had  purchased  from  a  market  gardener  en 
route.  He  would  tell  the  gardener  this  came 
from  his  own  garden,  as  a  small  return  for  the 
advice  given  him  the  previous  visit. 


1 


IJlack  (lit'w  up  outside  llu'  K;ii(l<  Mi'r's  col- 
la^t'  ill  luifl'liiy.  wlucli  hour  he  judged  (lie 
lid  fellow  would  he  liome  for  liis  (hiiner,  Un- 
orlunalely.  Harris  was  iiol  al  home.  lie  had 
;()iie  lo  a  flower  show  al  Alton.  The  married 
laughter  came  to  the  door,  a  bahy  iii  hei 
inns,  and  said  she  had  no  idea  wlien  he 
.voiild  be  bark.  She  seemi'd  a  pleasanl . 
riciully  sort  of  woman.  Black  lit  a  cij^arcllc. 
landed  over  tlie  rose  tree,  and  admired  llie 
)al)y. 

"I  have  a  youngster  like  that  at  home." 
lesaid,  with  his  usual  facility  for  piayinu  fic- 
itious  roles. 

"Really,  sir?"  said  the  woman.  "1  iiave 
woolliers,  but  Koy  is  llie  bal)V  of  llic  fam- 

ly." 

They  exciianned  baby  uo^si])  wiiile  Hlack 
iiiioked  his ciuarelte.  "Tell  your  faliier  I  was 
n  llylhc  a  day  or  two  an<>,"  iu'  said,  "seeing; 
ny  niri.  who  isal  school  tiiere.  And  curiously 
•noujih  1  met  tin-  headmaster  of  St.  Bee's, 
he  scliool  where  Miss  Mary  Warner  was 
•ducated  your  father  was  telling  me  about 
t,  and  how  an^ry  the  vicar  was  that  his 
lauHliter  cau^iit  rheumatic  fever  and  the 
leadinaster  rememberi'd  Miss  Warner  well. 
Ic  insisted,  after  all  these  years,  that  it  was 
lot  riieuinatic  fever,  but  some  virus  the  child 
lad  picked  up  at  iioine." 

"Oil,  really,"  said  the  woman.  "Well,  I 
lupposc  he  iiad  to  say  someliiinn  for  the 
ake  of  the  school.  Yes,  that  was  the  name. 
'tl.  Bee's.  I  remember  Miss  Mary  talking 
ibout  St.  Bee's  often  enough.  We  were  much 
if  an  a,ue,  and  when  she  was  home  she  used 
0  let  ine  ride  lier  bicycle.  It  seemed  a  great 
real  to  me  then." 

"More  friendly  than  tiie  vicar,  liien,"  said 
ilack.  "I  gatiier  your  fatiier  iiad  no  great 
iking  for  him." 

The  woman  laugiied.  "  No,"  she  said.  "  I'm 
ifraid  nobody  had  much  opinion  of  him, 
hough  I  dare  say  he  w-as  a  very  good  man. 
diss  Mary  was  a  dear.  Everyone  liked  Miss 
Aary." 

"You  must  have  been  sorry,"  said  Black, 
'that  she  went  down  to  Cornwall  and  never 
ame  home  to  say  good-by." 

"Oh,  I  was.  I  never  could  understand  it. 
^nd  I  wrote  to  her  down  there,  but  never 
lad  no  answer.  It  hurt  me  ciuile  a  bit,  and 
nother  too.  So  unlike  Miss  Mary." 


I    \   11    I    r    ^  II 

Black  played  with  the  tassel  of  I  h.  I,,, I,,  . 
shoe.  The  face  was  |)uckered  lo  cry.  and 
Black  thought  this  niiKhl  dlHlract  liini.  He 
did  not  want  Harris'  daughter  lo  «<>  back 
inside  the  cottage. 

"It  must  have  iR-eii  lonely  at  the  rectory 
all  on  her  own,"  said  Black,  "i  exiK-cl  she 
was  glad  of  your  conii)any  during  Ihe  holi- 
days." 

"I  don't  think  Miss  Mary  was  evei 
lonely,"  said  the  woman.  "She  was  such  u 
friendly  soul,  with  a  word  for  everyone,  not 
stuck-up  like  the  vicar.  We  used  lo  have  line 
games  together,  pretending  we  were  Indians 
and  such.  You  know  what  kiddies  are." 

"No  boy  friends  and  cinemas  then?" 

"Oh,  no.  Miss  Mary  wasn't  that  sort.  Tlu' 
girls  are  terrible  today,  aren't  they?  Like 
young  women.  They  chase  the  men." 

"I  bet  you  had  admirers,  both  of  you,  foi 
all  thai." 

"No,  really,  sir,  we  didn't.  Miss  Mary 
was  so  used  lo  boys  al  Si.  Bee's,  she  never 
Ihoughl  them  out  of  the  ordinary.  Besides, 
the  vicar  would  never  have  allowed  anything 
like  'admirers.' " 

■'  I  suppose  not.  Was  Miss  Mary  afraid  of 
him?" 

"I  don't  know  about  afraid.  But  she  was 
careful  not  to  displease  him." 

"Always  had  to  be  home  before  dark,  I 
suppose." 

"Oh,  yes.  Miss  Mary  was  never  out  after 
dark." 

"I  wish  I  could  keep  my  daughter  from 
coming  back  late,"  said  Black.  "In  summer 
evenings  it's  sometimes  nearly  eleven  o'clock 
before  she  is  in.  It's  not  right.  Especially 
when  you  read  the  things  that  happen  in  the 
newspapers." 

"Shocking,  isn't  it?"  agreed  the  garden- 
er's daughter. 

"But  this  is  a  Cjuiet  neighborhood.  I  don't 
suppose  you  get  any  bad  characters  around 
here,  and  didn't  in  those  days  either." 

"No,"  said  the  woman,  "though  of  course 
when  the  hoppers  come  it's  a  bit  lively." 

Black  threw  away  his  cigarette.  It  was 
burning  his  fingers.  "The  hoppers?"  he 
said. 

"Yes,  sir.  It's  a  great  district  for  growing 
hops.  And  in  the  summer  the  hoppers  come 
down  and  camp  in  the  neighborhood,  and 


I  I 


making  this  pie 
I  have  been  making 

.        in  three 
:ountries.  it.  n 


Mrs.  Gould  was  served  this  pic  at 
Mrs.  Holmes^  home  in  India, 
thought  it  delicious,  and  brought 
the  recipe  back  to  share  ivith 
Journal  readers.  It  richly  deserves 
the  name.  "Best  Ever  Pie"  .  .  .  ED. 

Beat  2  egg  yolks  well  until  light 
and  thick.  Add  gradually  1  rup 
sugar  w  hieh  has  been  sifted  with 
1  teaspoon  cinnamon  and  1  tea- 
spoon cloves.  Then  add  ^2 
cup  peean  halves,  cup  seed- 
less raisins  antl   1  tablespoon 


melted  butter.  Beat  the  2  egg 
whites  until  stiff  hut  not  dry. 
and  fold  them  gently  into  the 
sugar  mixture.  Do  not  beat  in. 
As  vou  fold  them  in,  add  I  ta- 
blespoon vinegar.  Pour  into  an 
8"  unbaked  pastrv  shell.  Bake 
in  a  hot  oven,  4.50°  F.,  for  10 
niijiutes.  Then  reduce  the  heat 
to  3r>Q°  F.  and  hake  2.')  minutes 
more.  The  crust  and  top  should 
he  crisp  and  nicely  browned. 
Cool  and  serve  with  unsweet- 
ened whipped  cream.  Serves  6. 


for -rite  VrtaminX" you  need. ..one  vifamin  your  body  can't  siore  up 


•  Those  delicious  Florida  Oranges 
are  at  your  grocer's  again.  Here's 
the  granddaddy  of  all  the  juice 
oranges!  Cut  them  in  two  and 
watch  the  juice  run  ofT  your  knife- 
blade.  A  full  big  glass  of  Florida 
orange  juice  gives  you  the  precious 


Vitamin  C  you  need  every  day. 
"C"  is  the  vitamin  that  helps  you 
build  resistance  to  winter  ills  and 
weariness.  So  drink  a  full  big  glass 
of  Florida  orange  juice  every  day. 
You'll  smack  your  lips  and  say: 
"T/iat's  the  way  to  get  Vitamin  C!" 


1M& 


a  /-Porida  Canned 


Heady  to  serve  at  a  moment's  notice. 
Natural  fuU-strength  with  vitamin 
and  nutritional  values.  You'll  enjoy 
blended  Florida  Orange-Grapefruit 
juice  in  cans,  too. 


^Pon'ck  Thsk-Thzen  Concenfrafe 


Tree-fresh  flavor  with  vitamin  and 
nutritional  values — in  new  handy 
form.  Pure  juice.  No  sugar  added. 
Keep  in  freezing  compartment.  To 
serve,  add  three  parts  water,  shake 
or  stir,  pour  full  big  glasses. 


/-Thn'ekTredi 


Another  sweetheart  of  a  crop  this 
year!  Thin-skinned,  plump  with  sweet 
juice,  and  rich  in  Vitamin  C.  More 
juice  means  Floridas  go  farther,  too. 


Flondo  Citrus  Commission,  Lak«lond,  Rorido  ^^^^^^f 


118 

they're  quite  a  rough  crowd,  from  some  of 
the  worst  parts  in  London." 

"  How  interesting.  I  had  no  idea  they  grew 
hops  in  Hampshire." 

"Oh,  yes,  sir.  It's  been  an  industry  for  a 
long  time." 

Black  dangled  a  flower  before  the  baby's 
eyes.  "I  suppose  you  weren't  allowed  any- 
where near  them  when  -you  were  young,  or 
Miss  Mary  either,"  he  said. 

The  woman  smiled.  "  We  weren't  supposed 
to,  but  we  did,"  she  said,  "and  we'd  have  got 
into  a  proper  old  row  if  we'd  been  found  out. 

I  remember  one  time  What  is  it,  Roy, 

is  it  time  for  your  nap?  He's  getting  sleepy." 

"You  remember  one  time,"  said  Black. 

"Oh,  the  hoppers,  yes.  I  remember  one 
time  we  did  go  off  to  see  them,  after  sup- 
per—we'd got  friendly  with  one  of  the  fami- 
lies, you  know,  and  they  were  having  a  cele- 
bration, what  for  I  don't  remember,  some- 
one's birthday,  I  suppose— and  they  gave 
me  and  Miss  Mary  beer  to  drink,  we'd  never 
tasted  it  before,  and  we  got  real  tipsy.  Miss 
Mary  was  worse  than  I  was;  she  told  me 
afterward  she  didn't  remember  a  thing  that 
happened  all  evening— we  were  sitting 
round  the  tents,  you  know,  where  the  people 
lived,  and  when  we  got  home  our  heads  were 
going  round  and  round,  we  were  quite 
scared.  I've  often  thought  since  whatever 
would  the  vicar  have  said  if  he'd  known,  and 
my  old  dad,  too,  for  that  matter.  I  would 
have  got  a  thrashing,  and  Miss  Mary  a  ser- 
mon." 

"Deserved  it,  too,''  said  Black.  "What 
age  were  you  both  thei'?" 

"Oh,  I  was  around  thirteen,  and  Miss 
Mary  had  tamed  fourteen,"  the  woman 
told  him.  '  It  was  the  last  summer  holidays 
she  ever  had  at  the  rectory.  Poor  Miss  Mary. 
I  often  wonder  what  became  of  her.  Mar- 
ried, no  doubt,  over  jr.  Canada.  They  say 
it's  a  lovely  country." 

"Yes,  Canada's  a  fine  place,  by  all  ac- 
counts. Well,  I  mustn't  stay  here  gossiping. 
Don't  forget  to  give  the  rose  tree  to  your  fa- 
ther. And  put  that  youngster  to  bed  before 
he  drops  off  in  your  arms." 

"I  will,  sir.  Good  day  to  you,  and  thank 
you." 

Thank  yoti.  on  the  contrary,  thought  Black. 
The  visit  had  been  worth  while.  Old  Harris' 
daughter  had  been  better  value  than  old 
Harris.  Hoppers  and  beer.  Fair  enough.  Mr. 
Johnson  of  St.  Bee's  would  say  conclusive. 
The  time  factor  fitted  too.  The  boys  of  St. 
Bee's  were  absolved.  What  a  damnable 
thing,  though. 

Black  let  in  the  clutch,  and  drove  off 
through  the  village  of  Long  Common  to- 
ward the  west.  He  felt  it  was  important  to 
discover  at  what  point  Mary  Warner  had 
lost  her  memory.  That  she  remembered 
nothing  of  what  must  have  happened  at  the 
hop-picking  celebration  was  plain.  A  reeling 
head,  a  blackout,  and  two  scared  kids  mak- 
ing for  home  at  top  speed  before  they  were 
discovered. 

Johnson  of  St.  Bee's,  still  warm  in  the  de- 
fense of  his  school,  had  told  Black  that  there 
was  no  doubt  Mary  Warner  had  been  com- 
pletely ignorant  of  her  condition. 

When  the  matron,  aghast,  had  discovered 
the  fact,  and  taxed  the  child,  Mary  Warner 
was  bewildered.  She  thought  the  matron  had 
gone  mad.  "What  do  you  mean?"  she  had 
said.  "I'm  not  grown  up,  and  I'm  not  mar- 
ried. Do  you  mean  I'm  like  Mary  in  the 
Bible?"  She  had  not  the  remotest  idea  of  the 
facts  of  life. 

The  school  doctor  had  advised  against 
questioning  the  child  further.  The  father 
had  been  sent  for.  And  Mary  Warner  was  re- 
moved. That,  so  far  as  Mr.  Johnson  and  the 
staff  of  St.  Bee's  were  concerned,  was  the  end 
of  the  matter. 

Black  wondered  what  the  vicar  had  said 
to  his  daughter.  He  suspected  that  the  vicar 
had  questioned  the  unfortunate  child  until 
he  had  given  her  brain  fever.  The  shock  must 
be  enough  to  turn  any  child  into  a  mental 
case  for  life.  Perhaps  he  would  get  the  solu- 
tion down  at  Carnleath.  The  only  trouble 
was  that  Black  did  not  know  quite  what  he 
was  looking  for.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Warner 
must  surely  have  changed  their  names. 


LADIES' 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


Carnleath  turned  out  to  be  a  small  fishing 
port  on  the  south  coast.  It  had  probably  en- 
larged itself  during  the  past  nineteen  years, 
because  there  were  three  or  four  fair-sized 
hotels,  a  sprinkling  of  villas,  and  it  was  evi- 
dent that  the  populace  now  devoted  itself 
to  the  business  of  catching  tourists  before 
catching  fish. 

Black's  family,  Phyllis  and  the  boy,  re- 
turned to  the  mythical  land  whence  they 
sprang.  Black  was  now  a  newly-married 
man,  and  his  wife,  a  girl  of  eighteen,  was  ex- 
pecting her  first  baby.  Black  felt  doubtful  as 
he  inquired  for  nursing  homes.  But  he  was 
not  disappointed.  There  was  a  nursing  home 
in  Carnleath,  and  it  did  specialize  in  ma- 
ternity cases  only.  Sea  View,  it  was  called. 
Right  out  on  the  cliff's  edge,  above  the  har- 
bor. 

He  backed  his  car  against  a  wall,  got  o  't, 
and  went  to  the  front  door  and  rang  the  bell. 
He  asked  to  see  the  matron.  Yes,  it  was 
about  booking  a  room  for  a  future  case. 

He  was  shown  into  the  matron's  private 
sitting  room.  She  was  small,  and  plump  and 
jolly,  and  he  felt  certain  that  he  would  be 
well  advised  to  leave  his  mythical  wife- 
Pearl,  he  decided  to  call  her,  in  a  sudden 
flight  of  the  imagination— in  the  matron's 
capable  care. 

"And  when  do  you  expect  the  happy 
event?" 

No  Comishwoman  this,  but  a  hearty, 
ringing  Cockney.  Black  felt  at  home  with 
her  at  once. 

"In  May,"  said  Black.  "My  wife  is  with 
my  in-laws  at  the  moment,  and  so  I've  come 
on  this  little  trip  alone.  She  is  determined  to 
be  beside  the  sea  for  the  great  occasion,  and 
as  we  spent  our  honeymoon  here,  she  feels  a 
sentimental  liking  for  the  spot,  and  so  do 
I."  Black  gave  what  he  intended  to  be  a 
sheepish,  prospective  father's  smile.  The  ma- 
tron was  undaunted. 

"Very  nice,  too,  Mr.  Black,"  she  said. 
"Back  to  the  scene  of  the  crime,  eh?"  She 
laughed  heartily.  "Not  all  my  patients  are  so 
fond  of  the  backward  glance.  You'd  be  sur- 
prised." 

Black  handed  the  matron  a  cigarette.  She 
took  it.  and  puffed  at  it  with  relish.  "I  hope 
you  aren't  going  to  shatter  my  illusions,"  he 
said. 

"Illusions?"  said  the  matron.  "We  have 
few  illusions  here.  They  all  go  west  in  the 
labor  ward.  What  was  sauce  for  the  gander 
turns  out  to  be  a  pain  for  ihe  gccse." 

Black  began  to  be  sorry  for  the  fictitious 
Pearl.  "Oh,  well."  he  said,  "my  wife's  a 


plucky  girl.  She's  not  frightened.  I  may  say 
she's  considerably  younger  than  myself. 
Only  just  turned  eighteen.  That's  the  one 
thing  that  worries  me  about  this  business. 
Is  that  too  young  to  be  having  a  baby,  ma- 
tron?" 

"They  can't  be  too  young,"  said  the  ma- 
tron, puffing  a  cloud  of  smoke  into  the  air. 
"The  younger  the  better.  Their  bones 
aren't  so  set,  and  they're  not  muscle-bound. 
It's  the  old  ones  that  give  me  my  headaches. 
Come  to  me  at  thirty-five  and  think  they're 
in  for  a  picnic.  We  soon  show  'em.  Your  wife 
play  a  lot  of  tennis?" 

"Doesn't  play  at  all." 

"Good  for  her.  Had  a  girl  here  last  week, 
she  was  local  champion  over  in  Newquay, 
and  she  was  so  muscle-bound  she  was  in 
labor  for  thirty-six  hours.  Sister  and  I  were 
worn  to  a  frazzle  at  the  end  of  it." 

' '  What  about  the  girl  ?  " 

"Oh,  she  was  all  right  once  we  stitched 
her  up." 

"You  have  had  patients  as  young  as 
eighteen  before?"  he  asked. 

"Younger  than  that,"  she  said.  "We  cater 
to  all  ages  here,  fourteen  to  forty-five.  And 
they  haven't  all  had  pleasant  honeymoons. 
Would  you  like  to  see  some  of  my  babies? 
I've  a  little  fellow  born  an  hour  ago,  and 
sister  is  just  making  him  pretty  for  mother." 

Black  steeled  himself  for  the  ordeal.  If 
matron  was  as  forthright  as  this  over  one 
cigarette,  how  would  she  be  after  two  double 
gins?  He  knew  he  must  ask  her  to  dinner.  He 
went  round  the  nursing  home,  saw  one  or 
two  prospective  mothers,  saw  several  more 
whose  illusions  had  apparently  been  shat- 
tered, and  when  he  had  inspected  the  babies, 
the  labor  ward  and  the  laundry,  he  made  a 
silent  vow  to  remain  childless. 

He  booked  a  room  with  a  view  over  the 
sea  for  Pearl,  he  gave  the  date  in  May,  he 
even  paid  a  deposit — and  then  he  asked  ma- 
tron to  dine. 

"That's  very  nice  of  you,"  she  said.  "I'd 
enjoy  it.  The  Smuggler's  Rest  is  only  a  small 
place,  nothing  to  look  at  from  outside,  but 
the  bar's  the  best  in  Carnleath." 

"Then  The  Smuggler's  Rest  it  shall  be," 
said  Black,  and  they  arranged  to  meet  at 
seven. 

By  nine-thirty,  after  two  double  gins,  lob- 
ster and  a  bottle  of  Chablis,  with  brandy  to 
follow,  the  difficulty  was  not  to  make  ma- 
tron talk,  but  to  gel  her  to  stop.  She  launched 
into  Ihe  finer  sides  of  midwifery  with  a 
wealth  of  detail  that  nearly  turned  Black 
dizzy.  He  told  her  she  should  write  her  rem- 


(1 

I 


"My  gosh,  Irene,  just  looking  helpless  won't  attract 
men  —  you've  got  to  look  cute  at  ttie  same  time  !  " 


January,  1953 

iniscences.  She  said  she  would  when  she  re-, 
tired. 

"No  names,  of  course,"  he  said.  "And 
don't  tell  me  all  your  patients  have  been 
married  women,  because  I  shan't  believe 
you." 

Matron  tossed  down  her  first  brandy.  "I 
told  you  before  we  had  all  sorts  at  Sea 
View,"  she  said,  "but  don't  let  that  shock 
you.  We're  very  discreet."  ', 

"  I'm  unshockable,"  said  Black,  "and  so  ia 
Pearl." 

Matron  smiled.  "You  know  your  onions," 
she  said.  "It's  a  pity  all  husbands  don't. 
We'd  have  fewer  tears  at  Sea  View."  She, 
Ifeaned  forward  intimately.  "You'd  be  stag-i 
gered  to  know  what  some  people  pay,"  she 
said.  "  I  don't  mean  the  honest-to-God  mar-' 
ried  people  like  yourself.  But  those  who  have 
slipped  up.  They  come  down  here  to  get  the, 
business  over,  and  they  pretend  to  be  above-' 
board,  and  everything  nice  and  pretty,  but 
they  can't  deceive  me.  I've  been  in  the  game,  : 
too  long.  We've  had  titled  patients  at  Sea,  ^ 
View,  pretending  to  be  ordinary  women  and'  i! 
their  husbands  think  they  are  having  a  holi-i  b 
day  in  the  South  of  France.  Not  a  bit  of  it.'  ! 
They're  having  what  they  didn't  reckon  toj  j 
have— at  Sea  View." 


Black  ordered  another  brandy.  "What^' 
happens  to  the  unwanted  baby?"  he  asked. i  t 

"Oh,   I  have  contacts,"  said  matron.^  c 
"There  are  plenty  of  foster  mothers  in  this.;! 
part  of  the  world  who  won't  say  no  tO'  n 
twenty-five  shillings  a  week  until  a  child  * 
reaches  school  age.  No  questions  asked._ 
Sometimes  I've  seen  the  face  of  the  real 
mother  in  the  papers  afterwards.  I  show  it  to'  i 
sister  and  we  have  a  quiet  laugh.  'She  didn't 
wear  that  pretty  smile  in  the  labor  ward,'  I' 
say  to  sister.  Yes,  I'll  write  my  memoirs  one 
of  these  days.  I  dare  say  they'd  be  worth 
something,  and  they'd  sell  like  hot  cakes."' 
Matron  took  another  of  Black's  cigarettes. 

"I'm  still  worried  about  my  wife's  age,", 
he  said.  "What's  the  youngest  you've  ever 
had?" 

Matron  paused  for  reflection,  breathing! 
smoke  into  the  air.  "Sixteen,  fifteen,"  she 
said.  "Yes,  we  had  a  fifteen-year-old  once — 
barely  fifteen,  if  I  remember  rightly.  That 
was  a  sad  case.  Long  time  ago  now,  though.", 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  said  Black.  [ 

Matron  sipped  her  brandy.  "She  came! 
of  well-to-do  people  too,"  she  said.  "The  fa- 
ther would  have  paid  anything  I  asked,  but^ 
I'm  not  a  grasper.  I  told  him  a  sum  I  thought 
fair,  and  he  was  so  pleased  to  dump  his,' 
daughter  on  me,  he  gave  me  a  bit  extra,  li 
had  her  here  for  five  months,  which  is  a 
thing  I  don't  do  as  a  rule,  but  he  said  it  was 
either  that  or  a  remand  home,  and  I  felt  so 
sorry  for  the  poor  kid  I  took  her." 

"How  did  it  happen?"  asked  Black. 

"Coed  school,  the  father  said.  But  I  never 
believed  that  yarn.  The  amazing  thing  was- 
that  the  little  girl  couldn't  tell  any  of  us  what 
had  happened.  I  generally  get  at  the  truth 
from  my  patients,  but  I  never  got  it  from 
her.  She  told  us  at  Sea  View  that  her  father  J 
said  it  was  the  greatest  disgrace  could  ever 
come  upon  any  girl,  and  she  couldn't  make  it 
out,  she  said,  because  her  father  was  a 
clergyman,  and  he  was  forever  preaching  j 
what  had  happened  to  the  Virgin  Mary  as 
being  the  most  wonderful  thing  in  the  world. " 

The  waiter  came  with  the  bill,  but  Black 
waved  him  away. 

"You  mean  to  say  the  girl  thought  the 
whole  business  was  supernatural?"  he 
asked. 

"That's  exactly  what  she  did  think,"  said 
the  matron,  "and  nothing  would  shake  her. 
We  told  her  the  facts  of  life,  and  she  wouldn't 
believe  us.  She  said  to  sister  that  something 
horrid  like  that  might  happen  to  other  peo- 
ple, but  it  certainly  hadn't  happened  to  her. 
She  said  she  had  sometimes  dreamt  about 
angels,  and  probably  one  had  come  in  the 
night,  when  she  was  asleep,  and  that  her  fa- 
ther would  be  the  first  to  say  he  was  sorry 
when  the  baby  was  born,  because  of  course 
it  would  be  a  new  Messiah. 

"Do  you  know,  it  was  really  pathetic  to 
hear  her  talk,  she  was  so  sure  of  herself.  She 
told  us  she  loved  children,  and  wasn't  a  bit 
afraid,  and  she  only  hoped  she  was  really 


i 


I'll 


M  I 


Dod  enough  lo  Ix'  its  motlicr,  s\w  luicw  I  Ins 
,me  lie  rt'ally  would  save  llic  world  " 
"What  a  frinlilful  story,"  said  Hlack  lie 
rdered  colfi'i-. 

Matron  iKraiuc  more  human,  more  uiuler- 
landinK-  She  fornot  lo  smack  her  lips.  "We 
L'came  ever  so  fond  of  the  child,  sister  and 
"  she  said.  "You  couldn't  help  it.  She  had 
ich  a  sweet  nature.  And  we  almost  cami'  lo 
jlieve  in  her  theory  ourselvi's.  She  remindefl 
s  that  Mary  had  only  been  a  year  or  so 
jiinner  than  she  was,  whi'n  jesus  was  horn, 
nd  that  Joseph  had  tried  to  hidi'  her  away, 
ecause  he  was  shocked  at  iier  having;  a  baby 
DO.  'You  see,'  she  told  us,  'there'll  be  a  ureal 
.ar  in  the  sky  the  ni^lil  my  baby  is  Ix)rn,' 
nd  sure  eiiouuh  there  was.  It  was  only 
cnus,  of  course,  but  both  sister  and  I  were 
I  lad  for  the  child's  sake  it  was  there.  It  made 
I  easier  for  her,  took  her  mind  off  what  was 
ai)peninK."  Matron  drank  her  coffee,  and 
lanced  at  her  watch.  "  1  oukIU  lo  be  goinK," 
le  said.  "We're  doin^;  a  Caesarean  at  einlil 
)inorr()w  morning,  and  I  must  have  a  ^ood 
(if^ht's  sleep." 
"Finish  your  story  (irst."  said  Black. 
What  was  the  end  of  it  all?" 
"She  had  her  baby,  and  il  was  a  boy,  and 
've  never  seen  anything  so  sweet  as  lhal 
hild  sittint;  up  in  bed  with  her  baby  in  her 
Tins;  it  might  have  been  a  doll  given  her  for 
birthday  present;  she  was  so  pleased  she 
ouldn'l  say  a  word.  She  just  said,  "Oh,  ma- 
ron,  oh,  matron,'  over  and  over  again,  and 
.ord  knows  I'm  no  softie,  but  I  nearly  cried, 
nd  so  did  sister. 

"Bui  I  can  tell  you  one  thing;  whoever 
;as  responsible  for  that  bit  of  work  was  a 
edhead.  I  remember  saying  lo  the  child, 
Well,  he's  a  proper  little  carrots  and  no  mis- 
ake,'  and  Carrots  he  became  to  all  of  us,  and 
0  the  poor  little  girl  as  well.  I  don'l  ever 
t-anl  lo  go  ihrough  again  what  happened 
v'hen  we  parted  I  hem." 
"Parled  them?"  asked  Black. 

E  had  to  do  lhal.  The  father  was  taking 
ler  away,  lo  begin  a  new  life,  and  of  course 
he  couldn't  do  that  with  a  baby,  not  a  child 
ler  age.  We  kept  her  and  Carrots  for  four 
reeks,  and  even  then  it  was  too  long,  she'd 
rown  too  attached  to  him.  But  it  was  all  ar- 
anged,  you  see;  the  father  was  to  fetch  her, 
nd  the  baby  was  lo  go  to  a  home,  and  sister 
nd  I  talked  it  over,  and  we  decided  the  only 
lay  to  do  it  was  lo  tell  the  poor  child  lhal 
:;arrots  had  died  in  the  night.  So  we  told  her 
hat.  But  it  was  worse  even  than  we  thought, 
ihe  turned  dead  white,  and  then  she 
creamed. 

"I  think  I  shall  hear  the  sound  of  that 
cream  to  my  dying  day.  It  was  terrible, 
ligh-pitched,  queer.  Then  she  fainted  dead 
way,  and  we  thought  she  would  never  come 
Dund,  and  that  she  would  die.  We  called  in 
lie  doctor,  which  we  don't  do  as  a  rule — we 
ttend  to  our  patients  ourselves — and  he 
;iid  the  whole  thing  was  monstrous,  and  lhal 
lie  shock  of  losing  her  baby  might  turn  her 
lental.  She  came  to,  eventually.  But  do  you 
now  what  had  happened?  She  had  lost  her 
lemory.  She  didn't  recognize  us,  nor  her  fa- 
lier  when  he  came,  nor  anyone.  She  remem- 
ered  nothing  of  what  had  happened.  Her 


memory  had  gone  (|uilc  dead.  She  was  well 
l)iiysically  and  mentally,  but  for  lhal  The 
doctor  «iid  then  it  was  Ihe  most  merciful 
thing  lhal  could  have  hap|)ened.  Bui  if  u 
ever  came  back,  he  s;iid,  u  would  Iw  hke 
waking  up  to  hell,  for  that  \HH,r  liiik-  girl." 

lll.ACK  summoned  the  waiter,  ;ind  piud  his 
bill.  "I'm  sorry  we've  ended  the  evciiiiii..  on 
such  a  note  of  tragedy,"  he  said,  •■but  ih:iiik 
you  very  much  for  the  story  all  the  same 
And  I  think  you  should  incluck-  ii  m  your 
memoirs  when  you  come  to  write  ihi  in.  By 
Ihe  way.  what  hai)pened  to  the  baby?" 

Matron  reached  for  her  gloves  and  her 
bag.  "They  look  him  in  at  the  St.  Kdiiumd's 
Home  at  New(|uay,"  she  said.  "I  had  a 
friend  on  the  lx)ard  of  governors,  and  goi  ii 
arranged,  but  it  was  (|uite  a  business.  We 
called  him  Tom  Smith  il  seemed  a  safe, 
sound  name  but  I  shall  always  think  of 
him  as  Carrots.  Poor  lad,  he  will  never  know 
that  in  his  mother's  eyes  he  was  destined  lo 
be  the  savior  of  the  world." 

Black  look  matron  back  to  Sea  View,  and 
liromised  lo  write  as  soon  as  he  returned 
home,  confirming  the  liooking  of  the  hmjiii. 
Then  he  ticked  her,  and  Cariileath,  off  the 
list  in  his  notebook,  and  beneath  them  wrote 
the  words  "Si.  Kdmund's  Home,  Newquay." 
It  seemed  a  pity  lo  come  all  this  way  to  the 
southwest,  and  not  drive  a  few  miles  farther 
on  what  would  be  only  a  matter  of  routine. 
The  matter  of  routine  proved  harder  than  he 
thought. 

Homes  for  the  offspring  of  unmarried 
mothers  are  not  usually  willing  lo  discuss 
the  whereabouts  of  the  children  handed  to 
their  care,  and  the  superintendent  of  Si, 
Edmund's  Home  was  no  exception  to  this 
rule. 

"It  doesn't  do,"  he  explained  to  Black. 
"The  children  know  nothing  but  the  home 
that  brought  Ihem  up.  Il  would  unsettle 
them  if  the  parents  ever  tried  lo  gel  in  touch 
with  them  in  after  life.  It  might  lead  to  all 
sorts  of  complicalk)ns." 

"  I  quite  understand,"  said  Black,  "but  in 
this  case  there  could  be  no  complications. 
The  father  was  unknown,  and  the  mother  is 
dead." 

"  I  have  only  your  word  for  that,"  said  the 
superintendent.  "I'm  sorry,  but  it's  strictly 
against  the  rules  to  break  silence.  I  can  tell 
you  one  thing.  The  last  we  heard  of  the  boy 
he  was  doing  well,  in  a  good  job  as  traveling 
salesman.  I  regret  I  cannot  tell  you  any 
more  than  that." 

"You've  told  me  quite  enough,"  said 
Black. 

He  went  back  to  his  car,  and  looked  at  his 
notes.  It  was  not  only  in  his  mind  that  the 
superintendent's  words  had  rung  a  bell,  but 
in  his  notes  as  well.  The  last  person  lo  see 
Lady  Farren  alive,  except  the  butler,  had 
been  a  traveling  salesman,  soliciting  orders 
for  garden  furniture. 

Black  drove  north,  lo  London. 

The  firm  which  made  the  garden  furni- 
ture had  its  headquarters  in  Norwood.  Mid- 
dlesex. Black  obtained  its  address  by  putting 
a  call  through  lo  Sir  John.  The  catalogue 


Olhor  Views,  Sizes  and  I»rif«»s  of  Votfue  ■•altorns 
on  Page  50 

Vogue  Design  No.  S-4339.  One-piece  dress  and  jacket;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  SLOO. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7912.  "Easy-to-Make"  bolero;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  50c. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7916.  Stoles.  One  size  (12-20).  60c. 


S.1339 


S- 1339 


7912 


7916 


had  Ix  cn  kepi  aiiioiin  all  the  other  |»aptT»  aiul 
lei  ii  Th  IjtlonKing  to  I  jidy  Farren. 

"What  iH  II?  Arc  you  im  to  anylhiriK?" 
Sir  John  askwi.  over  the  Uli  plione. 

Black  wahcautiouH  "  Juhi  a  ImakhLtkup." 
lie  Ktid.  "I  Ijilu-ve  in  Ixinn  ihoroui/li  I  will 
Kel  in  touch  with  you  aKaiii  an  Koon  an  ixmsi- 
ble." 

He  went  lo  Hec  the  nuinaKcr  of  the  firm, 
and  this  lime  Black  did  n(j|  dinnuihi-  hih  idi-ii- 
lily  He  gave  Ihi-  manager  Iiih  card,  and  ex- 
pkiined  that  he  was  employed  by  Sir  John 
Farren  to  in(|Uire  into  the  ianl  liourn  of  llie 
late  I.;Kly  Farren.  who  doubilenH  the  man- 
ager had  seen  m  liie  newMpaix  rh  had  txen 
found  shot  a  week  Ixfore  (H^  llie  morning 
of  her  death  she  had  given  an  order  for  gar- 
den s«als  to  a  iraveling  salesman  for  iIiih 
lirm.  Would  il  Im-  |>oHsible,  Black  asked,  lo 
see  the  man? 

The  manager  was  extremely  Horry.  but 
Iheir  salesmen  were  all  away,  and  when  they 
were  Iraveling  it  was  not  |)OHsible  to  contact 
lliem.  The  distances  they  covered  were 
large.  OnM  Mr.  Black  give  liim  the  name  of 
Ihe  particular  s;ilesman  he  wished  to  f|ues- 
tion?  Yes.  Tom  Smith.  The  manager  con- 
sulted his  lxx)k.  Tom  Smith  was  (|uite  a 
young  fellow.  This  was  his  first  round.  He 
would  not  be  due  back  at  NorwtxKl  for  an- 
other live  days.  If  Mr.  Black  cared  lo  sec 
Smith  at  the  earliest  ixjssible  dale,  the  man- 
ager suggested  he  should  go  lo  see  him  at  his 
lodgings,  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day, 
when  he  might  have  rclurned.  He  gave  Black 
the  address. 

"Can  you  lell  me,"  said  Black,  "if  by  any 
chance  this  young  man  has  red  hair?  " 

The  manager  smiled.  "Sherlock  Holmes?" 
he  said.  "  Yes,  Tom  Smith  has  a  shock  of  red 
hair.  You  could  warm  your  hands  at  il." 

Black  thanked  him,  and  left  the  oflice. 

He  wondered  whether  he  should  motor 
down  to  see  Sir  John  right  away.  Was  there 
any  purpose  in  wailing  four  or  five  days  lo 
question  young  Smith?  The  pieces  of  the 
jigsaw  fitted.  The  story  was  conclusive.  Lady 
Farren  must  have  recognized  her  son,  and 
that  was  thai.  Yet  .  .  .  had  she?  The  butler 
had  taken  Lady  F'arren's  glass  of  milk  to  the 
drawing  room,  after  the  salesman  had  left, 
and  had  found  her  perfectly  normal.  The 
pieces  filled,  but  there  was  still  one  little 
odd-shaped  bit  lhal  was  missing.  Black  de- 
cided lo  wait. 

On  the  fourth  evening  he  went  dow-n  to 
Norwood,  at  about  half  past  seven,  on  the 
chance  of  finding  that  Tom  Smith  had  re- 
turned. His  luck  held.  The  landlady,  wlio 
opened  the  door  lo  him,  told  him  that  Mr. 
Smith  was  having  his  supper,  would  he 
please  come  inside.  She  showed  Black  into  a 
small  sitting  room,  w-here  a  young  fellow, 
hardly  more  than  a  boy,  was  seated  at  the 
table,  eating  a  plateful  of  kippers. 

"Gentleman  to  sec  you,  Mr.  Smith,"  she 
said,  and  left  the  rcxim. 

Smith  put  down  his  knife  and  fork,  and 
wiped  his  mouth.  He  had  a  thin,  rather 
pinched  face,  like  a  ferret,  and  his  eyes  were 
pale  blue  and  close  together.  His  red  hair 
stuck  up  from  his  head  like  a  brush.  He  was 
quite  small  in  size. 

"What's  up?"  he  said.  He  was  plainly  on 
the  defensive  before  Black  had  opened  his 
lips  lo  speak. 

"My  name  is  Black,"  said  the  detective 
pleasantly.  "I'm  from  a  private  inquiry 
agency,  and  I  want  to  ask  you  a  few  ques- 
tions, if  you  don't  mind." 

Tom  Smith  rose  to  his  feet.  His  eyes 
looked  smaller  than  ever.  "W^hat  are  you 
getting  at?"  he  said.  "I've  not  been  doing 
anything." 

IBlack  lit  a  cigarette,  and  sat  down.  "  I'm 
not  suggesting  you  have."  he  said,  "and  I'm 
not  here  to  look  at  your  order  book,  if  that's 
what's  scaring  you.  But  1  happen  to  know 
that  you  visited  a  Lady  Farren  on  your 
rounds  just  recently,  and  she  gave  you  an  or- 
der for  two  garden  seals." 

"What  about  it?" 

"That's  all.  Tell  me  what  happened  at  Ihe 
interview." 

Tom  Smith  continued  to  watch  Black 
suspiciously.  "All  right."  he  said,  "let's  say 
I  did  go  to  this  Lady  Farren,  let's  say  she 


Tweed  ...  the  one 

fragrance  above 

all  others  ...  to  wear 

anytime,  anywhere. 
Tweed  fragrance  items  from  85^ 

to  $57.50  plus  lax 


PARiS  •  LONDON  •  NEW  YORK 


I.    \    I)    I     F.  S 


HOME       J    O    U    K    ^    A  I. 


Janiiarv,  19i\ 


Oreo 


111-  - 


Gripper-back 
shirt  snaps 
to  elastic- 
back  pants. 
An  adorable 
sleeper  in 
white,  pink, 
blue, 
maize. 


Baby's  soft,  glowy  and  oh- 
so-tender  skin  needs  the  gentle 
comfort  of  Spencer's.  Knit  of 
soft-spun  yarns,  caressingly  light 
on  the  body.  Spencer's  generous 
measurements  assure  free-and- 
easy  movement.  No  chafing,  no 
binding,  no  strings!  And  plenty 
easy  on  Mother's  modest  budget! 


4 


No  diance  for 
Baby's  feet  to 
get  cold  in  this 
zipper  bottom 
gown  ...  yet 
plenty  of 
room  for 
twisting. 


A/ways  look 
for  the 

Spencer  seal... 
Baby's  Assurance 
of  Comfort 


MOUNT    AIRY    KNITTING  CO. 

Mount    Airy,    North    C  a  r  o  I  i  r>  a 


did  give  me  a  couple  of  orders.  I'll  make  it  all 
right  with  the  firm  when  I  see  them,  if 
they've  got  wind  of  il.  I  can  say  I  asked  the 
check  to  be  made  out  to  me.  through  a  mis- 
take, and  it  won't  happen  again." 

Black  was  reminded  of  Miss  Marsh.  Re- 
minded, too,  of  the  Reverend  Henry  Warner. 
Even  of  Mr.  .Johnson,  and  his  touchy  self- 
defense.  Why  did  people  so  often  lie,  when 
questioned  about  something  else? 

"I  think."  said  Black,  "it  would  be  much 
simpler  for  you,  and  for  your  relations  with 
your  firm,  if  you  told  the  truth  straightaway, 
if  you  do,  I  won't  report  you,  either  to  the 
firm  or  to  the  superintendent  at  St.  Ed- 
mund's." 

The  young  man  shifted  uneasily  from  one 
foot  to  the  other.  "You've  come  from 
them?"  he  said.  "I  might  have  known  it. 
Always  down  on  me,  right  from  the  start. 
Never  had  a  chance,  not  me."  A  note  of  self- 
pity  crept  into  his  voice.  He  almost  whined. 
The  baby  destined  to  save  the  world, 
thought  Black,  had  obviously  not  made  a 
conspicuous  success  of  the  job  up  to  date. 

"I'm  not  interested  in  your  childhood," 
he  said,  "only  in  your  immediate  past,  and 
the  interview  you  had  with  Lady  Farren.  You 
may  not  know  it,  but  the  lady  is  dead." 

The  boy  nodded.  "Saw  it  in  the  evening 
paper,"  he  said.  "That's  really  what  decided 
me  to  do  it.  She  couldn't  split  on  me." 

"Do  what?"  asked  Black. 

"Spend  the  money,"  said  Tom  Smith, 
"and  cross  the  order  off  my  book,  and  say 
nothing  to  no  one  about  il.  Easy  done." 

Black  smoked  his  cigarette,  and  he  had  a 
sudden  vision  of  crowded  tents,  and  lorries, 
and  mattresses  dumped  in  a  field  where  the 
hops  grew  beside  tall  poles,  and  bursts  of 
laughter,  and  the  smell  of  beer,  and  a  shifty- 
eyed,  redheaded  fellow  like  this  boy,  hiding 
behind  a  lorry. 

"Yes,"  said  Black,  "easy  done,  as  you  say. 
Tell  me  more." 

Tom  Smith  became  more  confident  in 
manner.  The  detective  wasn't  going  to  say 
anything.  Not  if  he  told  the  truth.  All  right. 

"Lady  Farren  was  on  the  list  of  the  big 
nobs  in  that  district."  he  said.  "Plenty  of 
money,  I  was  told,  and  she'd  be  sure  to  give 
me  an  order.  So  I  called  there,  and  the  but- 
ler showed  me  in,  and  I  gave  the  lady  my 
catalogue,  and  she  chose  two  seats,  and  I 
asked  for  a  check.  She  wrote  it  out,  and  I 
took  it.  No  more  to  il  than  that." 

"Wail  a  minute,"  said  Black.  "Was  Lady 
Farren  pleasant  to  you,  did  she  take  any 
particular  notice  of  you?" 

The  boy  looked  surprised.  "Notice  of 
me?"  he  said.  "No,  why  should  she?  I 
wasn't  anyone.  Just  a  chap  trying  to  sell  her 
garden  seals." 

"What  did  she  say  to  you?" 

"She  just  looked  through  the  catalogue, 
and  I  stood  by  waiting,  and  she  marked  two 
items  with  a  pencil,  and  then  I  said  would  she 
make  out  the  check  to  bearer — I  tried  it  on, 
see,  she  had  that  dumb  sort  of  face  that's 
easy  to  fool— and  she  didn't  bat  an  eye,  but 
went  to  the  desk  and  wrote  out  the  check. 
Twenty  quid  it  was.  Ten  pound  a  seat.  And  I 
said  good  morning,  and  she  rang  for  the  but- 
ler, and  he  showed  me  out.  I  went  off  and 
cashed  the  check  right  away.  I  put  the 
money  in  my  wallet  and  even  then  I  wasn't 
sure  about  spending  it  or  not  but  when  I  saw 
in  the  paper  the  lady  was  dead,  I  said  to  my- 
self, 'Here  I  go.'  Well,  you  can't  blame  me. 
It's  the  first  chance  I  ever  had  to  make  a  bit 
of  money  no  one  knew  anything  about." 

Black  extinguished  his  cigarette.  "First 
chance,  and  you  use  it  dishonestl> ,"  he  said. 
"Your  choice,  and  your  future.  Ashamed  of 
yourself?" 

"No  one's  ashamed  till  he's  caught  out," 
said  Tom  Smith.  And  suddenly  he  sniled. 
The  smile  illuminated  the  pale  ferret  iice, 
deepened  the  light  blue  eyes.  The  furtivity 
went,  and  in  its  place  shone  a  strange,  en- 
gaging innocence.  "I  see  now  that  doc.ge 
didn't  work,"  he  said.  "I'll  try  something 
else  next  time." 

"Try  saving  the  world,"  said  Black. 

"Eh?"  said  Tom  Smith. 

Black  said  good-by,  and  wished  him  gooc' 
luck,  and  as  he  walked  away  down  the  street 


he  was  conscious  that  the  boy  had  come  out 
onto  the  doorstep  and  was  watching  him. 

That  afternoon  Black  went  down  to  re- 
port to  Sir  John  Farren.  but  before  being 
shown  into  the  library,  he  asked  the  butler 
to  have  a  word  with  him  alone.  They  went  to 
the  drawing  room. 

"You  brought  the  salesman  into  this 
room,  and  you  left  him  with  Lady  Farren, 
then  after  five  minutes  or  so  Lady  Farren 
rang,  and  you  showed  the  salesman  out. 

The  illusion  that  times  that  were  are 
better  than  those  that  are,  has  prob- 
ably pervaded  all  ages. 

—HORACE  GREELEY 

■   <':-  ^  A-      r  <# 

After  t!  at,  you  came  in  again  with  Lady 
Farren's  glass  of  milk.  Is  that  correct?" 

"Quite  correct,  sir,"  said  the  butler. 

"When  you  came  with  the  glass  of  milk, 
what  was  her  ladyship  doing?" 

"She  was  just  standing,  sir,  much  where 
you  are  now,  and  she  was  glancing  through 
the  catalogue." 

"She  looked  just  as  usual?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"What  happened  then?  I've  asked  you 
this  before,  but  I  must  just  check  again,  be- 
fore reporting  to  Sir  John." 

The  butler  considered.  "I  gave  her  lady- 
ship the  milk.  I  asked  if  there  were  orders  for 
the  chauffeur,  and  she  said  no.  Sir  John 
would  be  driving  her  in  the  afternoon.  She 
told  me  she  had  ordered  two  garden  seats, 
and  she  showed  me  them  marked  in  the  cata- 
logue. I  said  they  would  be  useful.  I  saw  her 


put  the  catalogue  down  on  the  desk,  and 
walked  towards  the  window,  to  drink 
glass  of  milk." 

"She  said  nothing  else?  She  didn't  ref( 
at  all  to  the  salesman  who  had  brought  tY 
catalogue?" 

"No,  sir.  Her  ladyship  didn't  remark  o 
him.  But  I  remember  I  did,  just  as  I  wji 
leaving  the  room,  but  I'm  sure  her  ladyshij 
didn't  hear  what  I  said,  because  she  nev( 
answered  me." 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"  I  said,  joking-like — her  ladyship  enjoye; 
a  bit  of  humor— that  if  the  salesman  callej 
again  I'd  know  who  he  was  because  of  hj 
hair.  '  Proper  little  carrots  he  is,  and  no  mi : 
take,'  I  said.  Then  I  closed  the  door,  an 
went  to  my  pantry." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Black,  "that's  all." 

He  stood  looking  out  across  the  garden 
Presently  Sir  John  came  into  the  room.  i 

"I  expected  you  in  the  library,"  he  saiii 
"Have  you  been  here  long?"  > 

"Only  a  few  minutes,"  said  Black. 

"Well.  And  what's  the  verdict?" 

"The  same  as  before.  Sir  John." 

"You  mean  we're  back  where  we  startci 
from?  You  can't  show  me  any  reason  whi 
my  wife  should  have  killed  herself?  " 

"None  at  all.  I  have  come  to  the  concU-; 
sion  that  the  doctor's  opinion  was  right.  ' 
sudden  impulse,  due  to  her  condition,  mac; 
Lady  Farren  go  to  the  gun  room,  take  ui 
your  revolver,  and  shoot  herself.  She  w; 
happy,  contented,  and  as  you  and  ever; 
body  else  knows.  Sir  John,  she  had  led  ; 
blameless  life.  There  was  absolutely  no  mar: 
five  for  what  she  did."  I 

"Thank  God,"  said  Sir  John. 

Black  had  never  before  considered  himse 
a  sentimentalist.  Now  he  was  no  longer  s 
sure.  TiiK  K\ 


VNDER-COVER  STUFF 

(Continued  from  Page  21) 


slender  English  blondes,  her  sensitive 
imaginative  younger  sister,  and  an 
American  Huckster-type  who  is  true  to 
them  both— in  his  fashion. 

• 

One  of  the  great  pleasures  you  can 
give  children— little  children,  four  and 
five  years  old— is  to  read  poetry  to 
them.  We  know  because  we  have  tried 
it.  They  love  the  sound.  And  when  the 


swered  him,  "  if  you  had  a  piece  oj  lemon  p 
and  a  chocolate  eclair  inside  your  muff." 

We  found  this  on  Page  37  in  Ben  net 
Cerf's  latest  joke  bcx)k.  Good  for  a  Lau<;i 
We  continued  to  read  to  Page  220— tl 
last— and  then  we  went  to  work,  the  f.n, 


"Bring  your  voice  down  an  oc- 
tave or  two.  You're  the  wolf 
now,  not  Red  Ridinghood." 


verses  think  the  way  they  themselves 
think,  their  entertainment  is  perfection. 
Far  and  Few,  a  delightful  new  book 
of  verses  by  David  McCord,  does  just 
this  and,  to  this  reader-to-children, 
seems  exactly  right. 

Which  reminds  us,  for  some  reason,  of 
the  well-dressed  New  York  gentleman  who 
went  to  collect  his  six-year-old  daughter  at 
a  birthday  party.  Taking  her  hand  to  get 
her  across  the  street,  he  said,  "Goodness, 
Vicki,  your  hands  seem  mighty  sticky  to- 
day." "  Yours  would  be,  too,"  she  an- 


Yoy  Can  Buy  the  Best!  ' 

"Beauty  is  its  own  excuse  for  be- 
ing," said  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson,  i 
Here  are  fresh  works  of  beauty— 
available  for  your  home.  j 

nrahmtt"  Fourth  Siimphnny  i 

conducted  by  Arturo  Toscanini  with 
the  NBC  Symphony.  This  recent 
recording  by  the  maestro  is  said,  by  ' 
one  critic,  to  be  "purer  and  more 
noble  than  any  other  on  records."  , 
RCA  Victor.  At  all  record  stores.  ; 
$5.45. 


M'aintvrs  uf  Ihv  StOth  f»nturit 
tCnlor  and  KxprcHHinnt 

A  handsome  portfolio  of  sixteen  color 
prints,  11"  X  15",  ready  for  framing. 
The  works  of  Matisse,  Veuillard, 
Bonnard,  Derain,  Vlaminck,  Dufy, 
Rouault  and  Soutine  are  represented, 
among  others.  Available  from  Skira, 
Inc.,  381  Fourth  Avenue,  New  York 
16,  N.  Y.  $2.50. 

Uuddvitbrnokm 

One  of  Thomas  Mann's  greatest 
novels,  the  story  of  a  rich  German 
family  before  the  First  World  War, 
is  published  now  in  a  Pocket  Book, 
Cardinal  Edition,  for  50  cents.  Avail- 
able at  most  newsstands  and  book- 
stores. 


> 


i.     V    II     I  I 


II  <>  \l  I      i  <l  \    \[   \  \  I 


i  2  I 


Diahclfs  was  onro  a 
insulin,  childii'ii  can 


Icalli  sentence"  to  children.  Now,  thanks  to 
he  encouraged  to  live  happv  normal  lives. 


Noi*mal  Lives  for 
Our  Diabetic  Children 

By  II It.  IIKK.MA.X  .\.  Ill MIKSK.X 

l*r«>Hid4-iit .  i'.hit-ago  Boiini  of  Health 


k  LITTLE  over  thirty  years  ago,  to  lell 
V  parents  that  a  child  had  diabetes  was 
■actically  to  pronounce  the  youngster's 
:ath  sentence— often  wilhin  a  year  of  the 
isel  of  the  disease.  Then  insulin  was  dis- 
ivered.  Today  many  people  who  have 
lived  on"  insulin  since  they  were  tiny 
Hingsters  are  functioning  just  as  weFl  as 
le  rest  of  us.  They  are  normal  in  every 
ay  except  that  they  must  control  their 
el  carefully,  and  that  usually  they  must 
ike  a  daily  dose  of  msulin. 
The  great  majority  of  diabetic  children 
so  can  lead  normal  lives,  and  they  should 
encouraged  lo  do  so.  That  is  the  most  im- 
jrtant  thing  for  parents  of  such  children 
I  know.  The  parents'  knowledge  of  the 
sease  and  how  to  take  care  of  it,  their 
vn  attitudes,  will  determine  how  well  the 
lild  learns  to  live  with  his  condition.  Dia- 
Jtes  in  children  need  be  harmful  or  bur- 
insome  only  if  parents  fail  to  handle  the 
tuation  wisely. 


DOCTOR  BUNDESEN'S  hook- 
lets,  used  by  many  thousands 
o(  enthusiastic  mothers,  cover  all 
phases  of  baby  care.  They  are: 
Before  the  Baby  ("omes  (pre- 
natal months).  No.  2383,  50c. 
Our  Babies  (complete  hook  of  in- 
formation on  care  of  the  baby). 
No.  1345,  50c. 
A  Doctor's  First  Duty  to  the 
Mother  (breast-feeding  helps), 
No.  1346,  10c. 

Address  all  requests  to  tlie  Ref- 
erence Library,  Ladies'  Home 
Journal,  Independence  Square, 
Philadelphia  5,  Pennsylvania. 


One  cannot  know  that  a  child  has  dia- 
betes without  testing  the  sugar  content  of 
the  blood  and  urine.  In  a  few  cases,  other 
disturbances  may  have  the  same  effect  as 
diabetes,  but  there  are  a  number  of  symp- 
toms which  call  for  an  immediate  examina- 
tion by  the  family  doctor. 

A  child  is  excessively  hungry  and  thirsty, 
while  at  the  same  lime  failing  to  make  nor- 
mal gains,  or  actually  losing  weight.  Fre- 
quent urination  is  another  danger  signal  of 
possible  diabetes.  As  the  condition  pro- 
gresses, a  youngster  may  suffer  from  weak- 
ness or  faintness  or  continued  undue  fa- 
tigue. Any  of  these  symptoms,  even  though 
associated  with  a  cold  or  other  infection, 
should  be  investigated  promptly.  Finally, 
the  child  who  has  diabetes  is  susceptible  to 
boils  and  to  marked  itching  of  the  skin.  His 
cuts  are  usually  slow  to  heal.  He  may  re- 
peatedly complain  of  blurred  vision  or 
other  eyesight  disturbances. 

It  is  easy  to  overlook  such  symptoms; 
many  times  I  have  found,  on  questioning 
the  mother  of  a  diabetic  child,  that  some  or 
all  of  the  symptoms  I  mentioned  had  been 
apparent  for  many  months  before  the  child 
was  brought  to  me. 

This  is  a  great  pity,  and  may  end  in 
tragedy.  For  the  earlier  diabetes  is  discov- 
ered, the  less  likely  it  is  that  the  child's 
health  will  be  permanently  impaired.  Also, 
the  sooner  he  will  be  able  to  resume  normal 
activities.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  condi- 
tion is  neglected  too  long,  the  whole  food- 
processing  mechanism  can  become  upset. 
This  may  culminate  in  a  general  break- 
down of  the  entire  system.  Unconscious- 
ness, even  death,  may  result. 

Insulin,  as  you  probably  know,  is  a  hor- 
mone produced  by  the  pancreas,  an  organ 
located  below  and  behind  the  stomach.  Its 
function  is  to  enable  our  bodies  to  use  in  the 
proper  way  the  carbohydrates  we  get  in  our 
(Continued  on  Page  155) 


THOMASTON  SHEiTS  IN  WHITE  ANO  PASTELS 


Nothing  conlribiilcs  niorc  lo  a  good  night's  sleep 
than  Tliomasloii  .Sheets  .mil  I'illowcascs  — as  soft  and 
snioolli  and  strong  .is  modern  si  icncc  and  Kftv  yc.irs 
('\|)('ri('nc('  can  make  llicm.  Voiir  grandniollii  r  more 
th.m  likely  looked  for  the  Thomaston  label,  but  lod.iy 
you  get  even  mori'  value  woven  into  every  int  b  of 
these  incomparable  sheets.  If  you  value  your  sleep, 
trust  Thomaston  lor  good  nights— good  buys. 


IIIOM  \Sli)\ 


Ask  for  Thomaston  Sheets  at  your  favorite  stor-^  —  page.  TYPE  no   •    pili.rim,  type  128 
FIRKSIDE,  TYPE  128     •     TAVERN,  TYPE  140    —  a  quality  for  eiery  pune  and  purpose. 


LITTLE  STRANGER  ON  THE  WAYP 


HO  HEED  FOR  ACID 
IHDIGESTIOH,  HEARTBURH 


We  hear  it  from  expectant 
mothers  by  the  thousands:  Tums 
give  them  relief  no  other  prod- 
uct has  ever  given  them— from 
acid  indigestion,  heartburn,  dis- 
tress once  thought  unavoidable. 
For  TuMS  are  specially  made 


to  settle,  .soothe  and  comfort 
acid  upset  stomach.  You  feel 
better  fast !  Your  doctor  will  tell 
you  Tums  are  safe.  Tums  are 
guaranteed  to  contain  no  soda  — 
can't  over-alkalize,  can't  cause 
acid  rebound. 


ir  And  Just  Imagine —Tums  art  still  only  10<  a  roll.  A  bl( 
box  of  TWELVE  10<  ralls,only  $1.00.  Get  Tums  right  away. 


rOH  IXPKTANT  MOTHK5  ...  Get  attractive  metal  Tums 
container  for  purse  .  .  .  just  send  wrapper  from  a  roll  of 
Tums,  witti  your  name  and  address,  to  Dept.  Jl.  L^wia- 
Howe  Company,  319  S.  Fourth  Street,  St.  Louis  2,  Mo. 


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LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


Don't  let  the  bullfighter  get-up  fool  you.  It's  your  old  friend,  the  jolly  Green 
Giant,  reminding  you  that  for  a  gay  surprise  in  fine  eating,  nothing  can 
match  this  Niblets  Brand  Mexicorn.  Everybody  loves  this  colorful  fiesta  of 
sweet  red  and  green  peppers  with  those  famous  golden  kernels  {packed  at  the 
fleeting  moment  of  perfect  flavor).  So  will  you.  Muy  mucho. 

Niblets  Mexicorn 


Green  Giant  Company,  headquarters,  Le  Sueur,  Minnesota; 
Fine  Foods  of  Canada,  Ltd.,  Tecumseh,  Ontario 


"Niblets"  and  '■Mexicorn"  are  tracle-marks  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off.  GGCo.  ©G 


I      V     l>     I  I 


II     "     \l     I  I     "I     t      II     N     \  I 


(Conliniifil  from  Hiif  til) 


I)  bin.  y<)ii  niiv;li(  ni'lln'r  round  I  he  (irc- 
dce,  net  till'  loK  a-bl,'i/,iii,n  :incl  set  the  talilc 
;hl  vvlicrc  you  are. 

It's  linu'  lor  our  cvctuun  meal,  it's  liiiic  lo 
inn  on  a  ilii'frlul  and  cliccrini;  potion,  ///;,s 
111'  a  steaniini;  cup  of 

ll<»l'  lt<M  II.I.ON 

Willi  <:l^^\lvl<)^  sticks 

I  \  ciltiH  coiKlciiHCtl  hoiiilldii.  11(1(1  die  ciiiiix  - 
'rit  (>r  2  ciiiis  \\  iilcr.  Ileal  to  a  lioil  iiii<l  .■<iiii- 
■r  u  feu  iiiiiiiilcH.  Serve  uilli  ii  lliin  Hiice  ol 
ricii  iiiid  II  eiiiniiiiioii  Klick  in  eiieli  eii|i. 
ukoK  7' J  cups.  W  lull  )(>ii  do  with  llie  liiill' 
|)  in  die  %it  \  (|iie>li(iii!  'I'lie  eiiiililiiioii  Hiiek 

II  "stirrer."  Mso  il  ddiililes  as  a  seasoiier. 

1  lliinU  a  casserole  tiiat  conies  to  tlie  tahli' 

III  hot  bubbles  ol  sauce  seeping  tlirouuh 
d  all  brown  and  patchwork-lookinn  is 
iK'lhint;  to  make  the  heart  sinn  and  the 
iKUe  tinnle. 

3l'coursi',  It  niaki's  some  ditterence  what's 
the  dish,  but  nine  limes  out  ol  ten  il  turns 
I  lo  be  as  as  it  looks. 
Here's  a  dish  ol'  that  color.  Il  is  a  very 
cct  dish  indeed.  Try  il.  And  we'll  stand  by 
LI  while  you  make  a 

iM;Mi.i:n-i.<;(;-  \\i)-siii<iimi» 
<:vssi;k<h,i; 

ircl-cook  8  e^f;s.  (ioolaiid  slicll.  (  .iil  llieiii 
(iliaKes  leii^lliwise.  Take  oiil  ihe  volks 
I  (lon'l  liiisl  llie  u  Idles.  ^  on  doii'l  need  lo. 
I  llic  \olks  ihroii^li  a  sieve.  Season  v\  illi  '  ■> 
is|)(>oii  sail,  'j  teaspoon  dry  iinistard,  34 
J  iiiav  oiinaise.  I  '^i  lahlespoons  li-ilit  creaiii 
:1 1  ■>  teaspoon  lemon  juice.  Tasle  lorseason- 
;.  Add  pepper  and  more  salt  lo  taste.  \ 
ill  ol   Tabasco  «oid(l  add  a  "dash"  ol  Ta- 


l.aHco.  (;et  \\  >  I'ill  iheuliitCN  uill,  ||„.  ,„ix. 
tiire.<  iook  2p..niids  sln-iinp  invtater  xeaxoned 
«illi  sidt,  pepper  and  a  leu  lemon  »li. c-. 
<;o(»l,  shell  and  take  ont  the  dark  vein.  \nil 
don  t  lor-jel  thai  shrimp  come  Iro/eii  and 
ill  euiiM  and  jars.  Make  I  i  ups  li^dit  .  ream 
Haiiee.  Add  ^  .,  e„|,  ;;rate.l  elieese.  A, I, I  ij,.. 
slirimp  to  the  siniee.  Kill  a  casserole  »il|i 
alternule  layers  of  ||ie  sliriiiip  same  and 
tlieefijis.  Saiit('  2  Clips  soil  line  jiread  criiiilliH 
in  ,'.|  cnp  liiitter  or  imir;;arine,  stirring;  and 
lossin;:  the  eriniilis  niilil  they  are  a  li;:lit 
;;<>ldeii  lirowii.  Sprinkle  (  rmiilis  over  the 
casserole.  Itake  in  a  moderate  oven,  .{.'dt 
I'.,  ;(t)-|l)  niiiniK 
liles  lip  ihronj 
lirow  II  patches 


iiotliin;;  will 
Stir,   riial  h  ; 


'<poil  II  imilliii  a-  Ihi$Iiiih  miII. 
II  till.  Ilutr  corii-nliek  paim, 
well  ;;reiixeil  uimI  lieii ted  III  u  hot  iiv  rii,  |(K»  |- . 
I  ill  tliepaii-  full  and  liukr  in  u  hot  ovrii, 
lot)  v.,  („r  2'i  niiiintr..  l  ukr  lliem  oiil  of 
the  pans  and  «erve  liol.  Tlii.  mukr.  I_' 
miilliii  Mil.  k».  'Hie«e  la-lr  like  the  mil. 
find  III  the  lall  wihmI.  You've  lirrii  inilliii;,'. 
ve».'    iiiil  hou  are  von  on  llie  crucklii;;':' 

Your  wiladH  arc  liic  nifwl  iKTNoruil  nf  every. 
lliiuK  you  make.  Of  all  you  xerve.  Far  be  il 
from  me  to  more  ilian  HUK^eHl,  ho  sukkcM  I 
do,  and  here's  a  sjilad  Ixiwl.  I)o  miiIi  it  what 
or  mini  the  same  hnh-    yolt  will.  Itieavcu  your  door  Wide  oixn 

liles  lip  lhroii<;h   the  ernmhs  and  hec  ck 


■^ou  know,  I  hope,  that  a  lot  of  my 
"classes"  have  mastered  the  art  of  ihe  roll, 
the  l)un  and  Ihe  fragrant  loaf  of  bread,  than 
which  no  art  can  be  more  lovely  and  more 
seductive.  To  savor  liie  fresh  loaf  as  it  leaves 
its  protective  pan  and  its  haven  of  oven  and 
gracious  heal  is  one  of  the  most  unfornetta- 
bk'  ex|X'rionces  we  know.  We  have  made  of 
the  Ixjuntiful  nrain  the  very  staff  of  life.  We 
are  creators.  We  are  masters.  We  hold  Ihe 
enduring  bounty  of  Nalure  in  our  hands.  I 
give  you  the  fruit  of  the  field. 

Will, VI  SUCKS 

Heal  2  ef;^s  very  lifjhl.  Add  eiip  8ni;ar,  '^(^ 
cup  milk  and  3  :j  enp  melted  linlter  or  iiiar- 
^'ariiie.  Sift  I  '  ;j  cups  Hour  with  -;j  cnp  wheat 
cereal — ihe  kind  yon  cook  for  breakfast, 
hilt  don't  cook  i(  lliis  time — .3  teaspoons 
l>akiii<;  powder  and  teaspoon  salt.  \d(l 
the  li(piids  to  the  dry  iiifjiedients  all  at  once. 

lo<;ether  hnt  do  not  heat.  Treat  like  a 
iiiiillin.  as  that's  what  ihey  are,  really.  And 


•X  \l  \|i  now  I 

I'eel  anil  cut  up  2  or  .<  ripe  toiniiliM-n.  udd  I 
lar;.'e  onion,  peeled  and  sliced  lliin,  iiiid 
Miarinale  these  in  W  eiip  I'Veneli  dresnini,' 
lor  several  lioiir».  Then  to«~  ttilli  crisp  nalud 
;;reens.  \ild  more  I'rencli  dressing:  if  iieces- 
sary.  lint  don't  \iit  suimminj;  in  ii  S,-.,.,,,, 
with  salt  and  pepper  to  lastc  \ii.l  .mM  .i 
little  sweet  hasil.  \nd  mil  voiir  Im.wI  \miIi 
;:arlic.  and  let  folks  knou  llnit  ynii  kno\\ 
your  salads  —  and  tlial  s  for  sure. 

And  now,  it's  lime  lo  slir  up  Ihe  lire  and 
help  yourself  lo  a  soul-salisfyinn  midwinler 
dessert. 


iMn  I  Ki  I  I  coMi'oi  i; 

.Select  the  choicest  fruits,  canned,  fre-li  or 
frozen.  Take  the  ones  you  like  best,  lake 
Nature,  they  all  ;;o  toc;elher.  I  ii^ed  I  No.  2]/^ 
can  fiear  halves,  I  No.  2  can  peach  halves, 
incliidiii;:  die  fniil  simps:  I  No.  2  can  red 
plnnix.  drained:  and  2  oraiifjes,  peeled  and 
sliced.  Ileal  the  fruits  lo>;clher  and  flavor 


llir  xiriip  Milli  '4  1  ii|i  fri//rn  •oiifrniralnj 
oruiilfr  jnii  r  Mon'l  ililiilr  il^  and  add  '  ,> 
lraa|MM>ii  aliiiond  rtlrarl.  I'rrird,  wliolr, 
KMikrd  •hriitniil*  are  M<iiirlhllit;  pfHv  nie«- 
lo  udd  -or  \ou  >  uii  Imv  <  aniu-d  rlir^iimis 
Mi  liiill  xiriiii    l)ri>m  llirm  lo.i 

And  stiiiir  liillt  In/If  Jut  a  /innhtr-off: 
C<N:4)M  I  Ml  ICIM.I  I  - 

lieul  '  ^  eiip  p|>|<  Hliilro  ttilli  '^  li  ».ii  .all 
iiiilil  KlifT  bill  nol  dry.  \dd  I  cii|i  >ii|H-riiiir 
■near  ifrudiiully,  a  lul)lr»|MH>n  <il  u  limr  Hral 
uflrr  all  llip  Kiitjur  m  iix-d  iiiilil  ihr  itntliire 
t«ill  "ereaw"  anil  can  Iw  ■  ul  llir'iii|<li  uilli  u 
cleiin  kiiifr.  If  »ii»ur  Ik  added  loo  la>l,  llir 
iiii-rin|.'iie  will  iiol  l>e  slifT  riioii|;li.  \dd  1^ 
leas|MMiii  vanilla.  I' old  in  I  can  iiiimkI  i-im-h. 
Mill .  Drop  from  a  leu  ton  on  lo  a  M  el|.|:rrai>r<l 
liakiiic  sheet.  .S|irinkle  Milli  mi\ed  candled 
fruits  cut  into  smull  pieiea  —  eilron,  l  andird 
cherries,  oraiiire  and  lemon  (wel.  or  aiiv  oilier 
nfiiartlv  colored  fruit.  Make  in  a  verv  alovt 
oven.  2.'»()-27.'i  I''.,  for  uIh>iiI  l'»  mmiilrs. 
riiev  slioiildirt  reallv  brow  11  at  all.  lint  xlav 
verv  lichl.  If  tliev  don't  «lav  liiill -colored. 

them  to  little  I'.lln  and  make  anolher 
hatch.  Slip  pfT  tvilh  a  s|ialnlu.  Make*  7-H 
dozen. 

January  lltaiv.  There  arc  such  Ihinns. 
And  we're  having  une  ruiw.  Slush  all  over  the 
l)lace  and  you  may  nrjt  viear  Kaloshes  or 
carry  an  umbrella.  Wit  there's  water,  water 
everywhere,  so  what! 

Bui  January  isn't  so  bad  a.s  some  perjplc 
say.  To  be  sure,  no  weather  suits  everybody. 
bul  il  must  suit  iqmcbfxly.  amUI  belong 
in  the  last  Rroup-  Lei  the  snovfdrift.  let  il 
mell.  Let  the  violets  come  up— they'll  be 
sorry  bul  I  shan't. 


IMItrLOl  S  FAXXY 

iConlnnu  ii  from  Faur  IX) 


"Thai's   great,   kid,'    Fanny  replied. 
e'U  do  a  double  at  the  Met.' " 
[f  the  ghost  of  Hamlet  haunts  the  hearts 
all  clowns,  if  the  desire  for  fame  must 

filled  by  all  those  who  make  the  cus- 
ners  laugh,  Fanny  Brice  was  no  exception. 

in  May,  1925,  the  following  appeared 
the  theatrical  section  of  The  New  York 
Ties:  "David  Belasco,  it  was  announced 
sterday,  has  taken  Fanny  Brice  under  his 
inagement  and  will  star  her  in  a  play  with- 
L  music.  Miss  Brice,  who  appeared  for 
ny  years  in  the  'Follies,'  is  at  present  in 
16  Music  Box  Revue.'  Her  contract  with 
".  Belasco  will  become  effective  at  the 
1  of  this  engagement,  probably  a  year 
ice." 

[n  the  turbulent  twenties,  when  Ziegfeld 
s  Broadway's  Barnum,  David  Belasco 
s  the  Main  Stem's  Michelangelo.  He  of 
;  cockeyed  collar  and  the  uncombed  silver 
ks,  with  the  face  of  a  sorrowing  choir  boy, 
s  a  kind  of  magic  maestro  of  the  American 
later. 

'Sure,  I  signed  with  him."  Fanny  wrote 
that  initial  meeting  with  Belasco.  "He 
It  over  and  kissed  my  hand. 
"You're  a  rare  jewel  of  an  actress,' 
lasco  told  me. 

'What  am  I  going  to  say  to  that? 

"I  want  to  get  you  a  wonderful,  beauti- 

play,'  he  told  me. 

'What  am  I  going  to  say  to  that ? 

"The  world  is  waiting  for  you.  Miss 

nny,'  he  told  me. 

'What  am  I  going  to  say  to  that!  I  signed 
hi  then  in  his  office." 

Ihen  she  left  New  York  within  a  few 
eks  for  an  extended  vaudeville  tour. 
Late  in  December,  when  Fanny  was  play- 
!  a  theater  in  Milwaukee,  she  sent  for  her 
ildren.  When  they  arrived,  she  dispatched 
'■  maid  to  Chicago,  ninety  miles  away, 
lere  she  had  engaged  a  large  suite  in  a  Loop 
tel.  The  maid  iDought  a  big  Christmas 
:e.  set  it  up  in  a  corner  of  the  parlor,  and 


decorated  it.  She  bought  wreaths  and  hung 
them  in  all  the  windows  and  on  all  the  doors. 
She  hung  mistletoe,  she  bought  candies,  and 
fruits,  and  nuts,  and  cakes,  and  champagne. 
Telephoning  daily  from  Milwaukee,  Fanny 
supervised  the  preparations,  sending  the 
maid  on  lour  after  tour  of  Chicago's  toy  de- 
partments and  men's  shops,  ordering  gift 
after  gift.  To  her  children,  to  her  friends  ap- 
pearing at  the  theater,  to  her  manager,  she 
said  not  a  word  until  December  21,  1925. 
when  newspapers  across  the  country  printed 
a  story  from  Leavenworth: 

"Prison  gates  will  swing  open  here  tomor- 
row," said  a  Chicago  newspaper,  "for  .Jules 


(Nicky)  Arnstein,  one  of  the  central  figures 
in  a  $5,000,000  New  York  bond  theft  and 
husband  of  Fanny  Brice.  actress. 

"  Nicky  was  received  at  the  Federal  Prison 
on  May  16,  1924,  under  a  sentence  of  two 
years  for  conspiracy.  Seventy-two  days  have 
been  subtracted  for  good  behavior." 

In  Milwaukee,  Fanny  told  newspapermen, 
"Now  1  believe  in  Santa  Claus." 

P'inishing  her  engagement,  she  took  the 
first  train  to  Chicago.  But  she  w'ould  not  go 
to  the  train  to  meet  Nick. 

She  would  not  let  the  newspapers  spoil 
this  meeting  for  her.  She  had  wired  Nick  the 
name  of  the  hotel  and  she  wailed  there  with 


INTHkN.VTION.XL 


Fanny,  overjoyed  that  son  Bill  showed  promise  as  a  painter  at  the  early  age  of  16, 
liere  admired  the  six  feet,  three  inches  of  height  he  achieved  at  the  age  of  17. 


Frances  and  with  Bil^  WWttte  deajrated.  the 
wreaths  hung,  the  gifts  on  the  floor,  the 
champagne  ccx)ling.  as  she  listened  for  the 
sound  of  the  buzzer. 

She  took  each  child's  hand  as  she  went  to 
the  door. 

She  stood  at  the  door  and  said,  "You're 
home.  Nick." 

They  let  the  champagne  cool  while  the 
children  took  over.  They  let  it  cool  while 
Mam'selle  fed  Frances  and  Bill  and  led  them 
off  to  bed.  Fanny  was  too  emotional  to  think 
of  dinner.  When  at  last  the  champagne  was 
drunk,  the  suite  quiet,  the  rooms  dark  except 
for  the  soft  lights  of  their  bedroom.  Fanny 
said.  "  We'll  never  be  apart.  Nick.  We're  a 
family  again,  and  we'll  stay  that  way.  We're 
going  back  to  New  York  after  I  finish  here, 
and  we'll  be  together  forever." 

"Fanny,"  Nick  said.  "  I  have  a  very  good 
proposition  here  in  Chi  " 

"No,  Nick."  she  said.  "No,"  she  repeated. 
"You  can  find  something  in  New  York.  You 
can  go  into  business.  You  could  be  my  agent. 
Nick." 

"I  don't  like  charity,  Fanny."  Nick  said 
coldly,  but  he  agreed  to  return  to  New  York 
with  his  wife  and  children. 

There  he  immediately  objected  to  Fanny's 
appearance  in  a  straight  play.  Writing  of  it 
many  years  later,  Nick  said  he  told  Fanny, 
"  You're  a  big  star  now.  Perhaps  the  highest- 
salaried  woman  on  the  stage.  Did  you  ever 
hear  of  a  heavy  earning  S4000  a  week? 
What  can  you  gain  by  it?  The  more  I  think 
of  this  proposition,  the  more  I  think  it  would 
be  fatal.  E)on't  be  carried  away  by  Belasco's 
name. 

"  'I'm  going  ahead  with  it,  no  matter  what 
you  think.'  Fanny  snapped  at  me.  At  last 
she  believed  her  ambitions  were  to  be  re- 
alized." 

Fanny  opened  in  "Fanny"  in  the  fall  of 
1926.  In  his  review  in  Tjie  New  York  Times 
the  next  morning.  Brooks  Atkinson,  the 
newspaper's  drama  critic,  said : 


124 


L   A    n    I    K    S  ■       HO    M    F,       JOUR    N   A  L 


January,  19 


"When  word  spread  around  that  Miss 
Brice  was  to  abandon  base  comedy  for  the 
pure  gold  of  emotional  histrionics,  the  pros- 
pects for  raucous  entertainment  in  the  thea- 
ter seemed  to  be  growing  alarmingly  dim- 
mer. For  as  a  sort  of  animated  newspaper 
comic  strip  .  .  .  she  has  no  peer  or  rival. 
'  Fanny '  contrives  now  and  then  to  manage 
an  emotional  scene  or  two  to  humor  .  .  . 
[her]  .  .  .  whim.  Once  she  delivers  an  impas- 
sioned jeremiad  about  honor  between  friends 
with  tears  in  her  eyes  and  a  choking  throttle 
in  her  throat. 

"But  it  cannot  rival  for  a  moment  the 
Fanny  Brice  of  the  slightly  crossed  eyes,  the 
broad  grin,  and  the  comic  awkwardness. ..." 

In  the  spring,  after  the  opening  of  the 
Belasco  fiasco,  Fanny,  Nick  and  the  children 
moved  to  the  house  in  Huntington,  Long  Is- 
land. Since  his  release  from  prison  Nick  had 
been  an  abnormally,  for  him,  attentive  hus- 
band, but  with  their  arrival  at  the  country 
house  his  old  habits  returned.  Fanny  would 
be  driven  to  the  theater  nightly,  never  know- 
ing whether  she  would  find  Nick  home  when 
she  returned  after  the  performance.  Remem- 
bering their  quarrels  of  a  few  years  ago,  she 
said  nothing  of  his  absences,  hoping  in  this 
silently  suffering  fashion  to  outstay  his  wan- 
dering feet  and  roving  eyes. 

Fanny  said  nothing  until  a  warm  Sunday 
when  she  had  invited  a  houseful  of  guests. 
While  Fanny  looked  after  lunch,  she  sug- 
gested hiring  a  boat  to  take  their  friends 
fishing. 

"What  do  you  think,  Nick?"  she  asked. 
"  Wouldn't  a  boat  be  fun?  " 

"An  excellent  idea,"  Nick  replied,  sitting 
comfortably  in  a  chair  overlooking  the  water. 

"  I'll  send  the  chauffeur,"  Fanny  said.  "He 
can  rent  one  for  us  right  down  the  block." 

"Why,  I'll  do  that,  my  dear,"  Nick  said. 
"I'll  want  to  check  the  captain's  fishing  gear 
anyway." 

"Well,  all  right,"  Fanny  said.  "But  the 
people  are  due  any  minute,  Nick.  Maybe 
we'll  send  the  chauffeur  and  you  can  be  here 
when  they  come." 

"Fanny,"  Nick  said  sharply,  "the  dock  is 
no  more  than  a  hundred  yards  from  here. 
I'll  be  back  in  five  minutes." 

"I  learned  one  thing  about  men,"  Fanny 
wrote  long  afterward.  "When  they  argue 
over  nothing,  it's  usually  over  something 
they're  hiding." 

But  that  day  she  wanted  no  quarrels;  no 
scenes  and  no  harsh  words  before  the  people 
coming  down  from  New  York. 

"Sure,  honey,"  she  said.  "You  go  get  the 
boat." 

Nick  had  not  been  gone  five  minutes  when 
the  guests  arrived.  Fanny  herded  them  into 
the  dining  room  for  the  buffet  lunch,  ex- 
plaining that  Nick  had  gone  to  hire  a  boat 
and  that  as  soon  as  they  were  finished  with 
the  food,  everybody  was  going  out  on  the 
briny. 

But  Nick  didn't  return.  Not  after  lunch, 
not  after  the  sun  had  disappeared,  not  after 
Fanny  had  exhausted  herself  entertaining 
the  guests,  not  after  the  children  had  ap- 
peared for  their  good-night  kiss,  not  after 
she  had  eaten  a  solitary  dinner,  not  after  she 
had  gone  to  bed,  lying  wide-awake  and  angry 
and  hurt,  with  an  unread  book  beside  her. 

Only  when  she  was  sick  with  fear  that  he 
might  be  ill,  injured  or  dead  in  an  automobile 
accident,  only  then,  long  after  midnight,  did 
he  appear,  remove  his  jacket,  hang  it  care- 
fully, and  turn  to  stare  in  apparent  surprise 
at  his  wide-awake  wife. 

M  THOUGHT  you  were  asleep,  darling,"  he 
said,  sitting  down  to  untie  his  shoelaces. 

"Where  were  you,  Nick?"  Fanny  asked 
quietly. 

"The  car  broke  down,  my  dear." 

"You  didn't  take  the  car.  I  sent  the  peo- 
ple to  the  station  in  the  car." 

"I  took  the  small  car,  Fanny,"  Nick  ex- 
plained patiently. 

Fanny  glanced  at  the  clock  on  the  night 
table  beside  her.  "Fourteen  hours  and  the 
car  broke  down?"  she  asked.  "Can't  you  do 
better  than  that?" 

Nick  didn't  answer. 

"Am  I  not  even  worth  a  good  lie?"  she 
asked. 


Nick  went  into  the  bathroom.  Fanny  lay 
in  bed,  listening  to  him  brush  his  teeth,  wait- 
ing while  he  washed  his  face  and  hands,  say- 
ing nothing  until  he  returned  wearing  silk 
pajamas. 

"Good  night,  my  dear,"  he  said,  getting 
into  his  bed. 

"  Is  that  it,  Nick?"  she  asked. 

"Is  that  what,  Fanny?"  he  said  irritably. 

"Good  night,"  she  repeated,  "and  I'm 
supposed  to  forget  it,  is  that  it?  Just  another 
day  between  Nick  and  Fanny?" 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  talking 
about,"  Nick  said,  turning  his  back  to  her 
as  he  pulled  the  blanket  high  around  him 
and  stretched  his  legs  for  sleep. 

She  said,  "  I  hate  your  guts,  Nick.  I  hate 
you!" 

He  turned  in  the  bed,  staring  at  her  with 
the  now-familiar  indignation. 

"You  don't  mean  that,"  he  answered. 

"Don't  I ? "  she  asked. 

"You  may  have  your  town  house  and 
your  country  house,"  Nick  said.  "  I  can  get  a 
house  on  Long  Island  any  time  I  want  one, 
and  don't  you  ever  forget  it,  my  dear." 

That  was  it.  She  had  the  word  now.  He 
had  never  come  closer  to  admitting  infidel- 
ity. To  anyone  else,  it  would  have  sounded 
more  like  male  braggadocio.  To  Fanny,  who 
knew  Nick  better  than  she  was  ever  to  know 
herself,  he  had  turned  up  his  hole  card. 

Fanny  said  the  second  thing  aloud  she 
had  never  said  before. 

She  said,  "  I  want  a  divorce." 

And  Nick  said,  "Go  to  sleep." 

"I  knew  he  had  somebody  on  Long  Is- 
land," Fanny  wrote  in  her  memoirs.  "The 
next  day  I  went  into  New  York  early  and  I 
hired  a  couple  of  detectives  to  trail  him.  For 
a  couple  of  weeks  they  found  out  nothing, 
and  I  was  glad.  I  was  glad  to  pay  them  to 
trail  Nick  forever,  just  so  they  would  prove 
me  wrong,  but  in  my  heart  I  knew. 

"Will  Rogers  was  the  only  man  I  ever  met 
who  I  would  have  sworn  was  true  to  his  wife. 
Nick  wasn't  Will  Rogers. 

"After  about  a  month,  the  detectives  come 
to  me  with  a  report:  Nick  is  meeting  a 
woman  on  the  Manhattan  side  of  the  Queens- 
boro  Bridge  on  59th  Street.  She  picks  him  up 
in  her  car,  they  go  someplace  on  Long  Island 
for  lunch,  stay  two  or  three  hours,  then  go 
for  a  ride  in  the  country,  and  she  brings  him 
back  to  the  bridge. 

"It  was  like  a  disease,  that  divorce.  Once 
I  let  the  word  come  out,  I  couldn't  shake  it 
off." 

But  what  she  never  wrote  about  were  the 
delaying  tactics  she  successfully  employed 
against  herself. 

Some  six  weeks  after  his  "expedition"  to 
hire  a  boat  for  their  guests,  he  didn't  come 
home  at  all  one  night.  He  didn't  come  home 
the  next  night,  either,  but  telephoned  from 


New  York  just  as  Fanny  reached  the  door  of 
her  Huntington  home  to  tell  her  he  was 
spending  the  night  at  their  home  in  the  city. 

Fanny  didn't  even  take  off  her  coat.  She 
didn't  look  into  the  nursery  that  night.  She 
summoned  the  chauffeur  and  asked  him  to 
drive  her  into  New  York.  When  she  arrived 
at  their  West  76th  Street  home,  Nick  was  in 
his  dressing  gown,  sitting  in  the  library. 

"Why,  Fanny,"  he  said,  rising  to  greet 
her.  "What  brings  you  here  at  this  time  of 
night,  my  dear?" 

"Where  were  you  last  night,  Nick?" 

"Are  we  going  into  that  again?" 

"All  right."  She  nodded  for  emphasis. 
"All  right,  Nick,  if  that's  your  answer.  But  I 
know  all  about  your  meetings  with  this 
woman." 

"What  woman?" 

"You  know  what  woman.  Don't  give  me 
that,  Nick.  You  know  who  I'm  talking  about. 
I  know  it's  all  over  between  us,  and  I  want  a 
divorce." 

But  Nick  didn't.  And  Fanny  didn't. 
There  was  no  dramatic  reconciliation.  They 
slept  in  separate  rooms  that  night,  but  they 
slept  in  the  same  house.  Fanny  called  off  her 
detectives,  and  Nick  announced  he  was  go- 
ing to  open  a  gambling  house  in  Chicago. 
Since  the  detectives'  reports  had  mentioned 
only  one  woman,  Fanny  took  it  as  proof  of 
his  fidelity  that  he  was  putting  half  a  con- 
tinent between  him  and  his  trusting  mate. 

At  the  close  of  the  theatrical  season  Fanny 
journeyed  to  Chicago.  She  wanted  Nick. 

And  Nick  apparently  wanted  Fanny.  He 
met  her  at  the  train,  he  took  her  back  to  his 
hotel,  he  ordered  dinner  in  their  suite,  he 
promised  to  return  from  his  gambling  house 
as  early  as  possible. 

He  was  adjusting  his  Panama  hat  when 
the  phone  rang.  While  Nick  admired  himself 
in  the  mirror,  Fanny  picked  up  the  receiver. 

"Hold  on  for  New  York,"  the  operator 
said.  As  the  cold  fingers  of  fear  gripped  her 
heart,  Fanny  smiled  at  Nick's  reflection  in 
the  mirror,  and  he  winked  at  her.  Then: 
"Jules?"  asked  a  woman. 

"I  didn't  say  a  word,"  Fanny  wrote.  "I 
handed  him  the  phone,  and  I  said,  'Your 
girl  friend.'  He  got  as  white  as  a  ghost  and 
tried  to  hang  up  quick,  but  I  was  packing 
while  he  spluttered  all  over  the  place,  trying 
to  duck  out  of  the  call. 

"He  just  watched  me  pack.  He  didn't  try 
to  stop  me,  and  that's  what  hurt  me  the 
most.  I  said,  'I'm  going  to  Paris,  Nick,  and 
now  I  will  get  my  divorce  in  Paris.' 

"  He  didn't  say  anything.  He  just  watched 
me  packing  like  I  had  watched  him  packing. 
I  walked  out  on  him  and  went  to  Paris  with 
Norma  Talmadge.  The  kids  went  on  the 
same  boat,  with  the  'governess,  and  they 
stayed  in  the  governess'  home  town.  Norma 
and  I  took  a  big  apartment  in  Paris.  I  would 


go  from  there  to  Lido  or  someplace  ar 
Norma  would  go  someplace  else.  It  meai 
we  could  just  pack  a  bag  and  go,  keeping  tl 
apartment  for  a  base. 

^Vhen  I  came  back  from  Europe,"  Fani 
wrote,  "I  couldn't  think  of  work.  I  didn 
want  to  go  into  a  show,  or  do  anything.  Pe 
pie  came  to  me  with  shows,  and  I  tried  to  td  j 
them  I  was  in  no  shape  to  work.  I  told  Flo  i| :  j 
that  year.  | 

"  It  got  so  I  couldn't  stand  the  house, 
couldn't  stand  the  servants.  I  couldn't  star  I 
being  around  people.  I  would  go  to  a  par 
and  some  of  the  funniest  people  in  the  wor 
would  be  there,  and  I'd  sit  like  a  deadhe; 
all  night.  I  wasn't  interested  in  the  childre 
If  the  cook  asked  me  what  I  wanted  for  di 
ner,  I'd  chase  her  out  of  my  room.  I  forg 
antiques.  I  forgot  clothes.  Some  days  I  didr 
even  get  dressed.  I  just  had  him  on  my  min 
and  it  was  making  me  nuts. 

"Well,  so  I  knew  that  I  had  to  do  somi 
thing,  snap  out  of  it  some  way.  Because  tfj 
way  things  were  going  I  was  a  cinch  for  tlj 
booby  hatch.  I  wouldn't  call  him  in  Chicajj 
because  I  thought  it  was  up  to  Nick  to  c;| 
me.  So  there  were  no  calls  from  anybod|j 
One  day  I  packed  up,  and  told  my  chauffe ! 
to  drive  me  to  Grand  Central.  AH  the  wr 
out  to  Chicago  I  made  up  my  mind  to  ha'  ' 
this  divorce.  And  I  decided  to  make  him  gh  . 
me  the  evidence  for  it. 

"If  he  gave  it  to  me,  I  wanted  it.  If  1 
didn't  give  it  to  me,  I  didn't  want  it. 

"  In  other  words,  I  went  after  something  ' 
really  didn't  want,  and  got  it."  ^ 

Nick's  own  account  has  the  corroborati(  j  ^ 
of  several  friends  of  both  his  and  Fanny's: .  i 

"She  had  her  lawyer  call  me,"  Nick  sai' ' 
"She  wouldn't  call  me  herself,  and  I  didr, : 
like  that  a  little  bit.  T. 

"That  lawyer  of  hers  thought  he  was-" 
real  wise  guy,"  Nick  said.  "He  told  me  to  gl 
over  to  the  Congress  [Hotel]  on  the  doubl 
He  said  Fanny  had  come  to  Chicago  for  ] 
divorce,  and  I  had  better  give  her  one.  I  hu:i 
up  on  him.  Nobody  talks  to  Nick  Amstek 
that  way. 

"I  was  in  no  hurry,"  Nick  continued.  ': 
took  my  own  time.  A  few  days  later  I  m , 
Fanny  at  the  hotel.  Her  lawyer  was  there." 
had  a  lawyer,  but  I  didn't  bring  him. 

"Fanny  had  worked  herself  up  to  a  fit  ' 
state.  She  was  a  nervous  wreck.  She  w;  J 
sitting  on  the  sofa,  and  when  I  came  in,  tf ,  j 
lawyer  started  to  talk  rough  with  n;  ; 
'You've  got  it,'  I  told  her.  I  wouldn't  bend- 
her.  -  - 

"  'You'll  never  see  the  kids,  Nick.' 

"'If  you  feel  that  way,  Fanny,'  I  replie 
'I'll  never  go  near  you  or  the  kids  again.' 

"And  I  never  did.  I  didn't  even  go  ba( 
to  the  New  York  house  for  my  clothes.  SI 
auctioned  them  off  with  her  furniture  later, 
was  through. 

'"You'll  have  to  give  me  evidence,  Nicy  " 
she  said.  ■  ii 

" '  Let  your  lawyer  arrange  it,'  I  said.  Th( 
arranged  everything.  I  went  to  a  hotel  roo: 
with  a  woman  for  the  adultery  evidence.^ 
never  saw  that  woman  before,  and  I  nevf 
saw  her  again."  ' 

"I  watched  him  leave  that  hotel  room 'A 
Fanny  wrote  long  years  later,  "and  I  didn  |!ti 
believe  what  was  happening.  I  didn't  belie\  ti 
we  were  through,  and  I  didn't  believe 
never  see  Nick  again  as  my  husband.  Th|| 
lawyer  went  away  to  arrange  the  hotel-rooif 
thing,  and  I  knew  I  was  just  as  much  in  lo^\ 
with  Nick  that  day  as  the  day  I  first  saw  hin 

"I  waited  for  Nick  to  stop  the  divorc 
Even  when  the  lawyer  came  to  take  me  1 
court,  I  thought  Nick  would  be  downstaii 
to  call  it  off.  I  thought  he  would  be  outsic 
the  court  to  stop  it.  I  thought  he  would  be  i. 
the  court  to  tell  the  judge,  'Forget  it,  Judg 
My  wife  and  I  made  a  mistake.  We're  i  '* 
love.  Why,  we  don't  want  a  divorce.'         ■  f 

"But  he  never  showed  up.  All  I  remembc  n 
is  that  it  was  a  beautiful  day.  I  was  like  i-  [, 
another  world.  I  didn't  hear  my  lawyer, 
didn't  hear  what  the  judge  said.  All  I  know 
they  gave  me  a  bunch  of  papers  to  sign,  and 
signed,  and  they  gave  me  a  copy. 

"I  had  to  get  out  of  that  town.  I  got 
compartment  on  the  first  train  for  Ne 
(Continued  on  Page  126) 


V 


Jane  Ru88ell*8 
advice 


to  a  fan 


I.    A    l>     f     K  s 


II     u     \|  I 


If  you're 
Ijlecting  dry  skin... 
watch  out ! 


hy  Roseiiian  Hall 

DKAll  lY  A  IJI'llOltl  r  Y 

I  always  aiiia/.cd  al  some  women. 

I  spciul  lioiiis  luirsiiii;  plants,  cx- 

1  vvilli  IwiiiDi-  il  a  |icl  lirijonia  wills, 
licsc  sanir  wnnicii  lio  nolliiiig  Id 
liicir  own  ili\  skin  lioin  gcltiiiii 

iiT.  Ilakici.  iiioic  willicrcd  .  .  .  and 

ilain  wrinkled. 


Tf  you're  ncfjlectinfj 
<hy  skill,  lei  me  eau- 
li(tnyou...y()uVead(l- 
i  11};  years  lo  your  fare ! 
Perhaps  you  think 
skin  eare  isexpensive. 
I  i  ni  e  -  e  o  n  su  ni  i  n  g  ? 
riien  let  nie  tell  you 
al)ont  a  dry  skin 
that  costs  iK'ririies,  lakes  less  than 
uinutes  a  day,  anil  will  make  you 
like  a  new  woman! 


liking  about  Woodbury  Dry  Skin 
n,  with  its  amazing  new  penetrat- 
igredient,  Penaten!  Penaten  car- 
le lanolin  and  other  rich  softening 
oils  in  the  cream  deep 
into  tile  important  cor- 
neuni  layer  of  your 
skin.  While  many 
creams  just  stay  on 
the  surface  of  your 
skin,  Woodbury  pene- 
— so  (piickly — five  minutes'  care  is 
a  need ! 


a  simple  routine 
recommend : 


your  fingertips,  cream  this  rich 
bury  Dry  Skin  Cream  in  tiny  cir- 
bout  your  eyes,  nose  and  mouth, 
our  cheeks  and  forehead.  Withfirm 
d  strokes,  work  the  cream  over 
hroat  and  neck.  Leave  it  on  for 
inutes,  then  tissue  off ! 


nes  and  rough  flakes  will  be  gone. 
1  notice  .a  fresh  new  bloom  in 
ace,  and  others  will  notice  it  too! 
Woodbury  Dry  Skin  Cream.  It 
)nly  25(?-  to  97^,  plus  tax,  and  the 
5  are  priceless. 


''ecaose  it  ,  ' 


(Continued  from  Page  124} 
York.  I  knew  I  would  go  crazy  if  I  sat  in  that 
compartment,  so  on  the  way  to  the  train 
I  stopped  at  Marshall  Field's  and  bought 
a  yard  and  a  quarter  of  gabardine,  a  needle, 
thread  and  scissors.  I  made  a  skirt.  I  made 
the  same  skirt  a  dozen  times. 

' '  A  FEW  days  after  I  got  back  from  Chicago 
with  the  divorce,"  Fanny  wrote,  "I  kept 
thinking,  'Nick  loves  me.  This  whole  thing 
will  be  straightened  out,  and  we  will  be  mar- 
ried again,  but  it's  a  good  lesson  for  him. 
Now  Nick  will  prove  his  love  for  me  and  then 
we  will  live  a  better  life  than  the  first  time 
we  were  married.' 

"But  a  week  went  by  and  no  Nick.  Two 
weeks  went  by  and  I  heard  he  was  in  Cali- 
fornia. Three  weeks,  a  month  passes  since  the 
divorce,  and  I  get  no  calls  from  Nick,  no  let- 
ter, nothing.  Now  I  know  that  if  I  sit  in  that 
house  looking  at  his  clothes,  I  will  go  crazy. 
Everything  reminds  me  of  Nick  from  morn- 
ing to  night.  I  decided  to  get  rid  of  every- 
thing, every  stick  of  furniture,  every  spoon, 
every  suit  of  his,  everything." 

So  Fanny  arranged  her  auction.  She 
announced  that  she  was  selling,  announced 
that  she  was  moving,  announced  that 
she  was  preparing  new  material  for  vaude- 
ville. 

"I  had  to  get  to  work,"  Fanny  wrote. 
"This  sitting  around,  that  was  bad.  I  had  to 
get  out  and  do  something,  be  with  people, 
get  into  action.  I  sent  for  Ballard  MacDon- 
ald  and  I  gave  him  a  deposit  to  write  my  act 
for  vaudeville." 

She  put  the  furnishings  of  the  house  under 
the  auctioneer's  hammer  and  stood  by  while 
the  streets  of  New  York  emptied  themselves 
into  her  boudoir. 

"At  the  rate  of  two  a  minute,"  began  a 
New  York  Telegram  account  of  the  proceed- 
ings, "actresses,  housewives,  flappers  and 
ordinary  females  romped  into  the  .  .  .  domi- 
cile at  306  West  76th  St.  until  10  o'clock  last 
night  to  discover  why  Nicky  Arnstein  left 
the  happy  home  he  occupied  for  years  with 
Fanny  Brice.  These  women  might  have  told 
their  husbands  that  they  went  to  size  up  the 
bargains  to  be  had  at  the  auction  beginning 
today  of  Miss  Brice's  bric-a-brac,  but  they 
couldn't  fool  a  Telegram  reporter.  True,  they 
did  nose  among  the  belongings,  but  10  to 
1  every  woman  was  looking  for  some  trace 
of  Arnstein. 

"As  the  evidence  now  discloses,  Nicky 
couldn't  have  moved  a  foot  inside  the 
door  on  stormy  nights  without  stumbling 
against  a  Sevres  vase,  hand-painted  and 
placed  precariously  on  a  green  marble 
pedestal." 

Another  reporter  itemized  the  furnishings: 

"Here  they  are,"  he  wrote,  "as  explained 
by  the  guide: 

"A  Chickering  piano,  mahogany,  sugges- 
tive of  a  lady's  boudoir.  There  should  be 
magic  in  that  piano.  On  it  the  comedienne 
must  have  rehearsed  her  'Mon  Homme' 
song,  unequaled  in  appeal  in  the  present  gen- 
eration of  Broadway. 

"A  torrid  Chinese  embroidery,  scarlet 
background  heavily  encrusted  with  blue  and 
gold. 

"A  Chinese  Chippendale  desk  and  book- 
case, majestic  in  size,  airy  in  design. 

"A  painting  in  oil,  'Pursued  by  Wolves,' 
by  the  Russian  Storloff. 

"A  Tabriz  (Persian)  rug  of  large  dimen- 
sion, brilliant  with  reds  and  golds. 

"A  Chinese  teak  wood  screen,  showing 
embroideries  of  pine  trees  and  flaming 
grasses. 

"A  bedroom  suite — here  we  come  to  an- 
other solemn  moment  in  the  personally  con- 
ducted tour  of  our  guide — Circassian  wal- 
nut, ormolu  trimmed,  Louis  XVI — twin 
beds,  chiffonier,  dresser,  Princesse  dresser 
for  Madame,  two  chairs.  Rose  brocade  cov- 
erings scrolled  with  Princesse  lace.  A  little 
matter  of  $7500. 

"For  the  forgotten  arts — a  set  of  Bo- 
hemian crystal  cocktail  glasses  delicately 
stemmed  bearing  on  their  bowls  bright  chan- 
ticleers in  all  the  gorgeous  colors  of  the  Coq 
d'Or. 

"A  court  lady  looking  out  from  her  canvas 
with  wide  dark  eyes,  wondering  eyes  that 


somehow  assure  us  the  feudal  days  were  bar- 
ren in  comparison  to  the  things  she  has  seen 
in  this  astonishing  century. 

"Such  objets  d'art  were  noted  with  ap- 
proval by  Miss  Brice's  oldest  friends.  Flo 
Ziegfeld,  one  of  her  entrepreneurs,  passed 
through,  dropping  a  salty  tear.  Fred  and 
Adele  Astaire  moseyed  around  behind  him. 

"The  house  was  as  choked  as  the  Bronx 
[subway]  Express  when  the  bidding  started 
at  10  A.M.,  but  the  bidding  for  the  first 
item — a  discarded  silk  hat  and  evening  suit 
of  Nicky's — was  desultory.  After  much  plug- 
ging, the  auctioneer  raised  the  price  two  bits 
to  $2.75." 

Fanny  opened  her  vaudeville  act  at  the 
Palace  on  November  21,  1927.  The  day 
after,  the  New  York  Telegram  reported: 

"Fanny  Brice  wouldn't  sing  "My  Man'  at 
the  Palace  last  night,  although  the  audience 
stopped  the  show  for  20  minutes  and  shouted 
at  her  to  let  them  hear  it." 


Legend 

Lady  up  on  yonder  hill 
Underneath  an  allspice  tree 

Rang  and  rang  her  silver  bell — 
All  the  children  ran  to  see. 

Like  a  queen  she  drew  them  in. 
'Tell  me,  children,  all  your 
names ; 

Here  is  shelter  from  the  sun— 
I  will  teach  you  singing  games: 

"Shuffle  Feather,  Spaniards'  Rout, 
Whigmaleerie,  Rakes  and  Roans, 
Hide  All,  Sally  Turnabout, 
Great  Marelle  and  Tumble 
Bones." 

Sweet  her  look  and  who  could  fear? 
"Come  and  dance  with  me!" 
she  cried. 
One  and  all  they  followed  her. 
When  her  green  door  opened 
wide. 

Dance  and  dancers  ended  there 
Silent  under  mossy  stones. 
"Hide  All  \"  mocks  the  chilly  air- 
All  they  learned  was  Tumble 
Bones. 


The  following  year,  however,  she  sang 
"My  Man"  once  more.  In  Hollywood  the 
"talkies"  had  created  a  revolution  in  pic- 
ture-making. Al  Jolson  had  made  The  Jazz 
Singer,  the  first  full-length  talking  picture. 
W'arner  Brothers,  who  had  pioneered  sound, 
\\  (  re  looking  for  another  winner  after  Jolson. 
They  signed  Fanny  for  her  first  movie. 

Writing  of  her  career  in  motion  pictures, 
Fanny  said,  "  I  will  say  that  I  never  learned 
the  camera.  You  have  to  be  able  to  forget  the 
camera.  And  I  found  it  very  hard  to  lose  my- 
self with  all  those  guys  around  with  those 
machines. 

"And  I  will  say  that  in  the  theater  it  was 
different  for  me.  I  made  a  deal  with  the  audi- 
ence every  time  I  came  out :  I  look  at  them, 
and  I  smile  at  them,  and  I  tell  them — by 
looking  at  me — they  know — that  this  is  a 
private  party  between  them  and  me.  In  the 
theater  I  was  always  at  ease,  but  in  pictures 
there  was  that  camera  following  me  around 
like  a  cop." 

If  Fanny  was  inclined  to  disparage  her  en- 
deavors before  the  magic  eye,  her  audiences 
and  critics  were  not.  Warner  Brothers  cap- 
italized on  Fanny's  private  life  and  provided 
her  with  a  story  that  might  have  been  writ- 
ten from  the  front  pages  of  the  nation's 


newspapers.  It  was  called  My  Man,  and  in  it 
she  sang  the  song  for  the  first  time  since  her 
divorce  from  Nick. 

When  it  opened  on  Broadway,  the  New 
York  Telegram  critic  said: 

"My  Man  is  the  best  talking  picture  I've 
ever  seen.  Thanks,  of  course,  to  Fanny 
Brice,  that  fine  comedienne." 

Fanny  had  another  explanation  of  her  suc- 
cess in  that  first  movie.  "In  the  picture," 
she  wrote,  "  I  have  a  younger  sister.  And  of 
course  she  is  a  no-good  little  bum,  and  I  am 
the  bighearted  jerk  who  takes  care  of  her, 
and  gives  her  everything  she  wants.  Now  I 
fall  in  love  with  a  guy,  and  of  course  my  sis- 
ter falls  in  love  with  him,  but  I  don't  know 
that.  And  one  day,  when  I  am  not  expected 
home  from  work,  I  walk  into  the  house  and 
find  them  together.  She  is  in  his  arms.  I  grab 
her  by  the  wrist  and  slap  her  and  chase  her 
out  of  the  house.  Then  there  is  a  scene  of  me 
looking  out  of  the  window  while  she  leaves, 
where  I  sing  'My  Man.'  I  am  supposed  to 
stand  at  the  window,  sing  the  song,  and  cry. 
In  my  mind  I  think  of  Nick  leaving  and  the 
tears  just  come." 

[Editors'  note:  Fanny,  after  her  <livorce 
from  Nicky,  married  Broadway  lyric  writer 
and  showman  Billy  Rose  on  February  9, 
1929.  "  I  was  never  bored  with  Billy,"  Fanny 
wrote  of  this  marriage,  "he  was  a  companion 
in  my  own  work.  ...  I  enjoyed  his  company. 
Billy  was  a  very  bright  man,  amusing  and 
ambitious,  and  it  was  quite  a  change  from 
Nick.  I  can't  say  I  wasn't  happy."] 

To  Fanny's  friends,  her  third  marriage 
was  even  more  puzzling  than  her  years  of 
loyalty  to  Nick.  They  could  understand 
her  love  for  Nick,  who  may  very  well  have 
been  the  most  handsome  man  on  the  North 
American  continent  in  those  years,  but 
they  could  never  fathom  her  attraction  to 
Billy  Rose. 

Fanny  said  of  her  third  marriage,  "There 
was  revenge  in  my  mind.  I  thought,  'What 
will  this  do  to  Nick?  How  will  he  feel  about 
my  getting  married?'" 

Perhaps  she  never  knew  what  it  did  to 
Nick.  Perhaps  for  the  rest  of  her  life  she  be- 
lieved, as  the  world  believed,  that  Nick  had 
taken  what  he  could  from  her  and  been  glad 
to  leave  her  when  she  asked  for  it. 

Yet  one  day  in  his  Beverly  Hills  apart- 
ment, Nick  was  shown  this  story  from  The 
New  York  Times  of  January  7,  1930:  "Nicky 
Arnstein  was  married  to  Mrs.  Isabelle  Mc- 
Cullough,  divorced  wife  of  Charles  McCul- 
lough,  millionaire  resident  of  Chicago,  on 
October  18,  1929,  records  show  here. 

"The  wedding  ceremony  was  performed 
by  the  Rev.  W.  H.  Stevens.  Mrs.  McCul- 
lough  was  accompanied  by  her  mother. 
Arnstein  and  his  bride  remained  for  some 
time  in  Quebec,  following  their  marriage, 
and  also  visited  Murray  Bay  before  return- 
ing to  New  York." 

And  below  it,  in  the  same  article: 

"Chicago,  Jan.  6.  .  .  .  Nicky  Arnstein 's 
bride  is  the  daughter  of  Mrs.  J.  C.  Matlack 
of  Great  Neck,  L.  I.  Arnstein  is  said  to  have 
met  her  at  a  garden  party  given  in  Chicago 
in  1927  in  honor  of  Fanny  Brice,  then  Mrs. 
Arnstein. 

"The  present  Mrs.  Arnstein  is  reported  to 
have  been  beneficiary  of  half  of  the  $5,000,- 
000  estate  of  her  father,  the  late  John  C. 
Matlack,  who  was  in  the  rubber-tire  business 
here.  The  other  half  was  distributed  to  char- 
ities." 

^ICK  flung  the  newspaper  clipping  from 
him.  He  was  as  angry  with  Fanny  at  that 
moment  as  he  might  have  been  had  she  just 
slammed  a  door  in  his  face  and  walked  out  of 
the  room. 

"  I  married  to  bum  Fanny  up,"  he  said.  "  I 
didn't  want  to  get  married,"  Nick  continued. 
"What  did  I  want  to  get  married  for? 
Women  were  a  dime  a  dozen." 

To  her  children,  Fanny's  marriage  to  Billy 
Rose  was  a  catastrophe. 

"The  last  thing  I  ever  received  from  my 
father  was  a  picture  of  himself,"  Frances 
Brice  Stark  said  recently.  "One  to  me  and 
one  to  my  brother.  Bill.  On  each  picture  he 
had  written, '  Be  Seeing  You  Sometime.'  That 
was  in  1927.  I  was  eight  years  old  and  Bill 
was  six.  Then  Billy  Rose  began  writing  songs 


for  mother.  He  came  to  the  house  mor 
often.  I  remember  him  so  very  clearly.  i 

"To  some  extent  our  French  govemes  j 
Mam'selle  poisoned  our  minds  against  Bill  J 
Rose.  She  said  he  wasn't  the  gentleman  m 
father  was.  She  respected  my  father  betaus 
he  was  so  well  mannered.  ' 

"The  day  mother  and  Billy  Rose  were  gel, 
ting  married,  I  was  upset.  They  and  a  fev 
friends  came  home  to  celebrate,  and  shi 
called  for  me.  I  wouldn't  come  in.  Mam 'sell! 
was  gloating.  Mother  called  again.  I  ran  int  i 
my  room  and  locked  the  door.  Mother  calle 
again.  You  see,  when  mother  was  angry,  sh  [ 
was  really  angry.  She  would  explode.  Mam  i 
selle  went  out  to  tell  her  that  I  was  in  m 
room.  For  Mam'selle  it  was  a  personal  tri 
umph. 

"  Mother  came  charging  to  my  room.  I  ha 
never  heard  her  so  upset  before.  'Frances 
she  said,  'open  that  door ! ' 

"  I  was  crying. 

"She  pounded  on  the  door  again.  'Ope: 
that  door ! '  she  demanded. 

"  I  said,  '  I'm  not  coming  out.' 

" '  If  you  don't  open  that  door.  I'll  break  i 
down.' 

"  I  didn't  answer. 

'"One  more  chance,  Frances,'  mothei 
said.  'Are  you  going  to  open  that  door?' 
"'You'll  spank  me.' 

"  'Not  if  you  open  it  this  minute.'  1 
"'Promise?' 

" ' I  promise,'  mother  said,  so  I  opened  tbil 
door.  She  just  turned  to  Mam'selle  and  tol( 
her  to  get  me  washed,  into  another  dress  an( 
then  bring  me  out. 

"Which  Mam'selle  did.  I  came  out  an( 
was  polite,  but  for  the  first  three  years  tha 
Billy  Rose  was  living  in  our  house,  mi 
brother  and  I  never  called  him  anything  bu 
'Mr.  Rose.'" 

In  1933,  after  the  death  of  Ziegfeld,  th(: 
Shubert  brothers  revived  the  Follies,  starrinj 
Fanny  and  Willie  Howard.  Phil  Rapp,  one  o 
the  country's  most  successful  radio  corned; 
writers,  and  the  late  Dave  Freedman,  a  bi 
now  almost  immortal  gag  man,  wrote  all  th( 
sketches  for  the  show,  including  one  bit  thej 
titled,  "Sailor,  Behave,"  a  parody  of  thi 
then  hit  play.  Sailor,  Beware. 

"  In  this  chase  skit,"  Rapp  says,  "we  hac 
one  big  worry:  that  the  laughs  would  not  b( ' 
evenly  distributed.  When  you  are  writing  I 
for  two  heavyweights  like  Fanny  and  Willie 
you  have  to  please  them  both.  If  one  makes  ; 
a  fool  out  of  the  other  one,  you  are  in  bijj 
trouble. 

"We  were  in  big  trouble  opening  night  orl' 
the  road.  Dave  and  I  are  standing  in  tht. 
back  of  the  theater  in  Boston.  When  FannJ.' 
and  Willie  do  the  skit,  she  is  getting  all  the^ 
laughs.  The  audience  loves  Fanny  and  paysl, 
no  attention  to  Willie.  l] 

"After    the    show,"    Rapp   continued,  ji 
"there's  not  a  word  out  of  Willie.  We  wait 
half  the  night  in  the  hotel,  but  there's  peace  If 
all  around  us.  The  second  night  Fanny  gets 
the  laughs  again.  Again  we  wait.  Again  si- 
lence. The  two  weeks  go  by  and  Willie  is 
peaches  and  cream,  and  we  come  to  opening  [ 
night  in  the  Winter  Garden  in  New  York.! 
I'm  in  the  wings  and  it  comes  to  the  Sailor  i: 
sketch.  I 

"They  start  and  Willie  times  it  just  right 
so  that  he  delivers  his  first  line  when  he  is 
facing  the  audience,  and  Fanny  is  facing  the  i 
wall. 

"The  audience  dies.  Now  he  chases  her 
again,  and  Fanny  can't  stop  because  if  she 
stops,  he  catches  her  and  that's  not  the  skit,  i 
She  has  to  throw  her  lines  over  her  shoulder, 
into  the  wings,  up  against  the  wall,  and  Wil- 
lie doesn't  deliver  a  line  unless  he  is  standing  \ 
on  top  of  the  footlights  rolling  his  eyes  at  the  1 
audience. 

"Fanny  didn't  get  a  laugh.  Not  one  laugh. 

"The  skit  is  over,  the  curtain  starts  down, 
and  it  isn't  halfway  to  the  floor  when  Fanny  I 
grabs  a  night  table  that  is  part  of  the  set 
and  starts  for  Willie.  She's  got  the  night 
table  up  over  her  head  and  she  screams, 
'  You  bum ! '  ' 

"  But  Willie  is  moving. 

'"Come  here,'  she  screams,  as  Willie  goes 
past  me, 

(Continued  on  Page  128) 


\    I)    I    li    S  •  II 


<»    M    I        J    II    I  I 


I, 


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your  very  own  f^rape  Jelly 
dished  up  in  a  sparkling, 
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128 


L   ADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  19 


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AT    STATIONERY  COUNTERS 


(Continued  from  Page  126} 
"Til  kill  you,  you  no-good  thieving 
bum ! '  she  screams,  after  him  with  the  night 
table,  and  she  meant  every  word.  She  chased 
him  through  the  wings,  down  the  stairs,  into 
the  dressing  rooms,  out  into  the  alley  and  up 
Seventh  Avenue,  swinging  that  night  table, 
but  Willie  got  away. 

"  Willie  wouldn't  come  back  to  the  theater 
that  night,"  Rapp  said.  "But  Fanny  came 
back.  I'll  tell  you  what  kind  of  a  showman 
that  girl  was.  She  came  back,  still  carrying 
the  night  table,  gave  it  to  the  grip,  went  to 
her  dressing  room  to  change  costumes,  and 
came  out  on  the  stage  alone  to  sing  a  song, 
her  big  number  of  the  show. 

"And  her  voice  cracked.  Now  that  can 
happen  to  kids,  to  beginners  singing  in  sa- 
loons, but  to  Fanny  Brice— nobody  ever  be- 
lieved it. 

"She  slopped  cold.  Motioned  to  the  or- 
chestra conductor  to  start  again. 
"She  cracked  again. 

"She  motioned  to  the  conductor  again, 
looking  up  at  the  audience.  'Just  stay  in 
your  seats,  you've  got  no  place  to  go,'  she 
told  them.  "We'll  get  it  this  time.' 

"She  got  it,  all  right.  And  when  she  fin- 
ished, she  got  the  biggest  ovation  I  ever 
heard  a  performer  receive  anywhere,  or  any 
time. 

"Then  she  walked  off,  went  down  to  the 
stage  door,  and  sat  there  waiting  for  Willie." 

It  was  shortly  after  the  opening  that 
Fanny  met  with  Nick,  seeing  him  for  the  first 
time  since  Chicago.  Of  that  meeting  Fanny 
wrote:  "A  friend  called  me  one  day  and  said 
Nick  wanted  tc  see  me.  He  said  Nick  was 
moving  to  California  with  his  wife  and  that 
he  wanted  to  say  good-by  to  me.  I  said,  '  I'll 
see  him,  why  not  ? '  So  we  arranged  the  meet- 
ing at  this  friend's  apartment,  and  I  went  to 
see  him." 

But  Nick  said  of  that  episode: 

"My  wife  and  I  were  living  comfortably 
and  quietly  on  Sutton  Place.  We  were  sur- 
rounded by  family  and  friends.  Our  one 
and  only  desire  was  to  live  in  seclusion  and 
avoid  publicity.  No  matter  how  hard  we 
tried  to  live  quietly,  the  press  every  now 
and  then  blasted  me  on  the  front  page. 
Lacking  spectacular  news,  they  made  me 
the  goat.  However,  in  the  main  we  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  our  lives  private.  It  was 
then  that  Fanny  sent  an  emissary  to  me, 
asking  that  I  see  her.  I  bore  her  no  ill  will, 
and  so  I  agreed." 

They  met  in  late  afternoon  at  the  friend's 
apartment,  Nick  having  arrived  first,  the 
friend  having  left,  and  Fanny  entered  to  see 
Nick  in  profile  as  he  stood  at  the  windows 
looking  down  on  mid-Manhattan.  He 
turned  as  the  door  closed,  and  came  forward, 
breaking  into  a  wide  smile,  his  arms  out. 

"Fanny,  my  dear,"  he  said.  "This  is 
pleasant.  How  are  you,  Fanny?  How  have 
you  been?" 

"I'm  O.K..  Nick." 

"  I'm  delighted  to  hear  that,  Fanny.  Come, 
let's  sit  down,  old  girl.  You  and  I  have  a  lot 
to  talk  about."  He  led  her  to  the  sofa,  made 
her  comfortable,  offered  her  a  cigarette  and 
lit  it  for  her.  He  sat  half  turned  toward  her, 
his  legs  crossed.  "I'm  reading  great  things 
about  you,  Fanny,"  he  said. 

"The  same  bunk." 

"The  same  Fanny,"  he  said,  laughing. 
"You  haven't  changed  a  bit." 
"Neither  have  you." 

"  I  keep  myself  fit,  old  girl.  I'm  thinking  of 
entering  the  air-conditioning  field,  you  know, 
and  the  preliminary  surveys  have  kept  me 
on  my  toes." 

"You  haven't  asked  for  the  children," 
Fanny  said. 

"  How  are  the  dear  ones,  Fanny  ?  " 

"You  don't  care!" 

"  Why,  Fanny,  of  course  " 

"You  haven't  changed,  Nick,  have  you?" 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Fanny?  " 

"You  know  what  I  mean."  She  rose  from 
the  sofa  and  strode  to  the  windows.  "Your 
own  kids,  and  you  don't  even  ask  for  them. 
You're  no  good,  you're  a  " 

"  I'm  leaving,  Fanny." 

"Leave,"  she  said.  "Go  ahead,  leave.  Get 
out  of  here." 


He  found  his  hat  and  coat  and  calmly  and 
deliberately  dressed  himself  for  the  street. 

He  was  gone,  leaving  her  alone  in  the  al- 
most dark  apartment,  holding  a  dead  cig- 
arette in  her  hand. 

The  morning  after  her  meeting  with  Nick, 
Fanny  began  legal  proceedings  to  change  her 
children's  last  name  to  Brice.  Within  a  few 
weeks  she  had  removed  the  last  remaining 
reminder  of  her  life  with  Nick. 

Except  in  the  newspapers,  which  coupled 
her  constantly  with  her  ex-husband. 

"The  big  animation  I  get  out  of  Bill,"  she 
wrote  of  her  son,  "  is  that  his  looks  and  man- 
nerisms remind  me  so  much  of  Nick.  I  always 
hoped  I'd  have  two  children,  and  I  had  them. 
I  always  hoped  I'd  have  a  boy  and  a  girl, 
and  I  had  them.  I  always  hoped  the  boy 
would  have  the  talent,  and  not  the  girl,  and 
it  worked  out  that  way.  As  I  realize  it,  I 
didn't  want  my  daughter  to  have  a  career. 
Because  if  a  woman  has  a  career,  she  misses 
an  awful  lot.  And  I  knew  it  then,  that  if  you 
have  a  career,  then  the  career  is  your  life.  It 
is  the  biggest  part  of  you  and  you  can  be 
married,  have  children,  have  a  husband,  but 
it  isn't  enough  for  you,  because  the  career  is 
always  there  in  your  mind,  taking  the  best 
out  of  you  which  you  should  give  to  your 
husband  and  kids.  You  want  your  husband 
to  have  success,  but  it  has  to  come  after  your 
own  success.  Who  are  all  these  actresses  kid- 
ding that  they  take  pictures  in  the  kitchen? 
When  you  work  a  full  day — or  night — and 

O000OOOOO00OO 

It  is  not  what  men  eat,  but  what  they 
digest,  that  makes  them  strong;  not 
what  we  gain,  but  what  we  save  that 
makes  us  rich;  not  what  men  read  but 
what  they  remember  that  makes 
them  learned,  and  not  what  we 
preach,  but  what  we  practice  that 
makes  us  Christians.  These  are  great 
but  common  truths,  often  forgotten 
by  the  glutton,  the  spendthrift,  the 
bookworm,  and  the  hypocrite. 

—LORD  BACON 

0000000000000 

you  come  home  afterward,  do  you  think  that 
you  want  to  sit  down  and  listen  while  your 
husband  tells  you  he  had  a  big  day,  sold 
eighteen  washing  machines?  In  a  pig's  ear. 
You  want  quiet,  you  want  rest,  and  you 
want  him  to  rub  your  feet  and  bring  you  a 
cup  of  tea.  And  if  he  won't  do  it,  you're  pay- 
ing the  maid,  let  her  bring  the  tea.  Let  her 
pull  the  shades.  Let  her  tell  the  cook  to  wait 
an  hour  for  dinner.  What's  this  with  the 
washing  machines  he  sold? 

"So  I  was  happy  when  Frances  didn't 
have  the  talent.  Then  I  watched  Bill.  And  I 
waited  for  the  talent.  I  see  him  drawing. 
He's  doing  automobiles  and  airplanes  and 
everything  he  sees.  And  I  asked  him  if  he 
liked  it.  He  said  he  did.  And  I  asked  him  if 
he  would  like  a  teacher.  And  he  wanted  a 
teacher.  So  I  got  Henry  Botkin,  George 
Gershwin's  cousin.  Botkin  came  two  or  three 
times  a  week  and  worked  with  Bill.  And  one 
thing  Botkin  taught  him  was  to  learn  to 
work — that  it's  a  full-time  job.  You  just 
don't  start  and  then  stop  when  you  feel  like 
it.  The  thing  I  was  worried  about  in  regard 
to  Bill,  I  was  afraid  he  would  be  like  me.  I 
wouldn't  study  for  anything.  I  would  make 
it  come  by  itself,  and  I  knew  that  was  no 
good  for  painting.  Because  I  got  everything 
from  the  heart,  and  I  knew  that  if  he  painted 
it  had  to  come  from  the  head  as  well  as  the 
heart.  And  he  didn't  disappoint  me." 

At  the  same  time  Frances  was  establishing 
herself  in  quite  another  sphere — horseman- 
ship. She  was  a  better-than-average  pupil  to 
start,  and  within  a  few  months  was  showing 
marked  abilities  atop  a  horse.  Then  Fanny 
bought  Frances  a  show  horse  and  soon  she 
was  spending  more  time  at  the  stables  than 
at  home.  Frances  began  competing  in  shows 
and  winning  the  events  she  entered. 

One  summer  Fanny  took  a  house  on  Fire 
Island,  a  long,  narrow  spit  of  land  which  lies 
a  few  miles  off  Long  Island  some  forty  miles 


from  New  York.  It  was  a  riotously  hapj 
summer.  Fanny  seemed  to  have  forgotten ; 
troubles  completely.  Her  children  rememb| 
that  every  week  end  brought  a  fresh  horde  j 
guests:  the  Hechts,  Bea  Lillie,  Jimmy  d| 
rante,  George  and  Ira  Gershwin,  and  the  la) 
ter's  wife,  Lee,  Lillian  Hellman,  Lou  Holt 
George  Jessel,  and  Harry  Pilcer. 

That  summer  Fanny,  in  her  efforts  to  u  j 
derstand  her  son  Bill's  talents,  took  up  painj 
ing.  She  would  spend  afternoons  on  tl] 
beach,  standing  or  sitting  before  an  easr 
Since  she  hated  to  do  anything  alone,  ari 
since  she  could  not  commandeer  her  guesi 
to  join  her,  she  bought  an  extra  set  of  paintj 
an  easel  and  a  brush  for  Herman,  her  Gel 
man  chef,  and  ordered  him  to  accomparl 
her.  The  two  became  a  familiar  sight  ( 
Fire  Island,  Fanny  walking  determined  i 
ahead,  searching  out  fresh  scenes,  and  Hel 
man  following  with  the  paints,  brusht 
easels  and  chairs. 

When  Fanny  was  playing  a  theater  ] 
New  York,  her  children  were  always  wij 
her.  In  the  1936  Follies  which  the  Shubei 
brothers  produced,  they  were  at  the  theati 
on  week  ends  until  10  p.m.  when  Fanny 
chauffeur  drove  them  home.  Fanny  did  n' 
have  to  urge  her  children  to  accompany  h 
to  the  theater,  for  Frances  was  hopelessi 
stage-struck  and  Bill  was  helplessly  stag^ 
girl  struck. 

It  was  Fanny  who  arranged  for  her  daug^ 
ter's  first,  last  and  only  appearance  on  tl 
stage.  One  night  when  a  chorus  girl  becan 
ill,  Fanny  suggested  Frances  as  a  substitur 

"She's  just  a  kid,"  the  stage  manager  pr,,, 
tested. 

"She's  no  kid,  she's  sixteen!" 
"But,  Fanny,  she  doesn't  know  the  ro* 
tines!" 

"She  knows  every  line  and  laugh  ar 
dance  step  in  the  show.  I'll  make  her  up 
Fanny  said,  and  proceeded  to  do  so  in  h 
dressing  room. 

Then  she  smiled.  "You're  nervous,  areiT 
you?"  Fanny  asked.  "It's  your  first  tinj 
and  you're  nervous." 

Frances  nodded. 

Fanny  extended  her  hand.  "It's  my  m: 
lionth  time  and  I'm  nervous  too,"  she  sal' 
and  holding  hands,  mother  and  daught™ 
left  the  room  to  appear  on  the  stage  togethe  i 

After  that  1936  Follies,  Fanny  signed 'i 
five-year  contract  with  Metro-Gold wy'^ 
Mayer.  She  traveled  to  California  ar 
rented  the  estate  of  the  Countess  di  Frass ! 
After  she  appeared  in  Everybody  Sings  ar^ 
The  Great  Ziegfeld,  Fanny's  contract  wii; 
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer  was  terminated  i 
the  satisfaction  of  both.  While  working  , 
those  movies,  she  also  appeared  as  Bat 
Snooks  on  several  radio  programs,  in  whic^ 
M-G-M  stars  were  featured.  ;^ 

"1  WROTE  her  first  radio  show  in  1931' 
says  Phil  Rapp.  "  Radio  was  like  television  i 
now:  trying  to  scoop  up  everybody,  trying  lj 
fill  the  broadcast  schedule  with  headliner 
Well,  she  was  a  headliner,  but  she  nev< 
cared  for  radio.  She  always  said,  'It's  stea 
ing  money.'  She  wouldn't  rehearse  excej] 
under  the  strongest  pressure,  and  then  onl 
on  the  day  of  the  broadcast.  She  thougH 
radio  was  a  lark,  and  I  guess  to  her  it  was,' 

Lark  or  not,  the  critics  welcomed  her  a] 
pearance  as  happily  as  they  welcomed  h/ 
presence  in  the  theater. 

"I  first  did  Baby  Snooks,"  Fanny  wrot' 
"in  1912,  when  I  went  in  vaudeville.  At  thji 
time  there  was  a  child  called  Baby  Pegg' 
and  she  was  very  popular.  The  hair  was  a: 
curled  and  bleached  and  she  was  always  i 
pink  or  blue.  She  always  looked  like  an  ic( 
cream  soda  or  something.  Then  I  had  talke' 
to  people  about  doing  a  baby— I  thought  ! 
could  be  very  funny  with  it.  Because  when  J 
did  a  character  I  ivas  that  character. 

"  Well,  the  writers  didn't  get  excited  aboi' 
it  until  one  day  one  of  them  read  a  story  in  j 
book  about  a  child  with  a  father.  The  fath( 
catches  the  child  in  a  lie.  And  the  writ( ' 
thought  it  was  funny,  and  brought  it  to  rr 
to  read.  i 

"I  said,  'That's  the  kind  of  kid  I  want  tl 
do  with  my  Baby  Snooks.'  So  they  agreed. 

Maxwell  House  Coffee  ofifered  Fanny  • 
large  fee  to  appear  in  a  weekly  show  as  Bab 


I.  \  I)   I  i; 


II    u    \|  I 


I    1 1 


N      \  I 


looks;  tlic  olfcnsivc  child  was  soon  a  na- 
»nal  favonlc. 

!As  till'  program  oriKiiiatwl  in  Hollywo<xl, 
inny  dt'cidcd  to  slop  rent  inn  and  U)  buy  a 
lUSC.  She  Ik)iik1iI  Ihc  liousf  on  I'"arinn  Road 
thcHohnhy  Hills  sixl ion  wlirre  she  was  to 
'c  the  rt'st  of  her  life,  and  si'l  al)out  fiirnisli- 
H  it  witli  lier  usual  cnci  ny. 
It  was  typical  of  I'^anny  lliat  furnisliinK  a 
w  house  coincided  with  the  end  of  a  inar- 

1  tge .  Si le  I  iled  su  i  I  lof  d  i  v(  nw  f ri  ii  u  H i  1 1  y  Kose . 
le  New  ^'ork  iler;ild  Trihuiu'  rt'|X)rted: 
"Hollywood.  Calif..  Oct,  1  l-'anny  liiice 
ii^hl  a  divorce  from  IJilly  Rose  today  in  a 

implaint  that  avoidi'd  mention  of  the  |)ro- 
iccr's  romance  with  ICleanor  Holm,  the 

;  ynipic  swimmer.  ..." 

Hktwkkn  sizing  draiieries  and  rehearsinj; 
r  radio  show  one  day.  I-'anny  visitid  an  art 
llery  in  Bi-verly  Hills,  owned  bv  I'Vank 

-ris. 

"She  came  to  my  KiiHery  the  first  day  I 
icned  it,"  IVrlssays. "  I  was  lianKinK'  my  i)ic- 
res  and  this  strange  woman  enters  to  tell 
c  I  am  han^;inn  them  wron^.  I  was  a  Ckt- 
an  alien,  Iri'sh  from  C.ermany,  fresh  to 
ilifornia,  fresh  to  Ix)s  Angeles.  I  do  not 
unv  this  woman  from  (iypsy  Rose  Lee. 
"'1  will  show  you  how  to  hant;  i)ictures,  so 
ey'll  sell."  siie  said. 

"'I  think  I  know  a  little  something  alx)ut 
itiKiiiK'  lectures  myself,"  I  said. 
"'You  know  a  little  nothing,'  she  said. 
"She  continues  moving  my  pictures 
ound  my  nailery,  and  I  am  now  very 
)Stile  to  this  woman  who  is  taking  over, 
lien  she  was  satislied  with  the  pictures, 
le  left  the  shop.  I  do  not  know  yet  why  I 
ft  them  hanginu  her  way.  I  cannot  tell  you. 
simply  did  not  occur  to  me  to  override 
:r  decision. 

"I  was  a  young  man  trained  in  art,  de- 
ited  to  art.  I  had  spent  my  life  with  art. 
lis  woman  to  whom  art  came  late  in  life, 
id  was  an  imijortant  part  of  her  life,  knew 
mehow  instinctively  where  each  picture 
ould  go. 

"She  returned  to  the  gallery  that  same 
ening  with  John  Dekker,  the  artist,  and 
th  Thomas  Mitchell,  the  actor.  She  was, 
)ni  the  first,  the  barker  for  my  gallery.  She 
ought  in  these  two  as  if  she  was  showing 
:  her  own  gallery. 

"On  the  wall  was  a  Modigliani,  'Portrait 
Lollotte,'  and  Fannv  said,  'How  much  is 
at?' 

'"Five  thousand  dollars,'  I  told  her. 
"She  turned  on  Mitchell  like  she  had 
Lind  him  a  nice  tie.  "There's  your  picture, 
)mniy,' she  said." 

Mitchell  did  not.  Perls  remembers,  share 

r  enthusiasm  for  the  Modigliani.  "My 

:ture?"  he  asked. 

"It's  yours.  Tommy,"  she  said. 

"It's  Mr.  Perls',"  Mitchell  replied. 

"You're  going  to  buy  it,"  Fanny  said. 

"But  I  don't  want  a  picture, "  Mitchell  said. 

"Of  course  you  want  a  picture,"  Fanny 

id.  "  Wrap  it  up."  she  told  Perls. 

"I  haven't  got  a  check,"  Mitchell  said. 

"1  have  a  blank  check,  sir,"  Perls  said. 

"There."  Fanny  said,  beaming  at  Perls, 

though  his  offer  of  a  blank  check  was  no 

san  achievement  than  a  cure-all  for  cancer, 

See?  He's  got  a  blank  check." 

In  his  shop  Perls  chuckled  as  he  remem- 

red  the  muddled  Mitchell  WTiting  a  check 

■  $5000,  his  price  for  a  casual  evening  with 

inny. 

"He  was  not  the  end,"  Perls  said  of 
itchell.  "She  sold  at  least  fifty  pictures  for 
Fanny  was  in  this  desert  of  culture  a 
aeon,  and  without  her  this  town  would 
t  have  been  as  art-conscious  as  it  now  is." 
Howard  Warshaw,  the  young  American 
inter  who  is  a  colleague  and  friend  of  Fan- 
's son,  Bill,  agrees  with  Perls. 
"Another  thing."  Warshaw  says.  "She 
IS  a  full-fledged  contemporary.  She  thought 
we  did.  In  any  discussion  of  painting  she 
IS  a  willing  and  active  participant,"  War- 
Jw  said.  "A  painting  had  to  strike  all  her 
ises  favorably,  or  she  didn't  like  it." 
Fanny  was  more  thrilled  at  an  invitation 
visit  Warshaw's  studio  than  she  would 
ve  been  at  a  summons  from  Buckingham 
'ace. 


Warshaw,  a  careful,  slow  workman  h.id 
alx)rc-d  for  months  on  an  extraordin.inly 
long  picture,  a  canvas  several  yards  \,mu 
Now  he  sl<K)d  In  side  it  as  Fanny  renarded 
his  i)ainting  carefully.  She  cocked  her  head 
lirst  to  one  side  and  then  to  the  other.  She 
I)ursed  her  li|)s.  She  frowned.  She  s<|umled 
She  smiled. 

"I'll  tell  you.  kid,"  she  said  linally.  "Cut 
alv)ut  three  feet  off  irfl  side  and  you've 
got  :i  picturi'." 

l-'or  many  months  after  Perls  opened  his 
gallery,  Fanny  was  almost  a  daily  visitor,  he 
remembers.  "Of  course  I  knew  thai  her  son 
was  studying  to  Ix'  a  i)ainter,  but  she  did  not 
talk  to  me  of  Bill,  I  did  not  know  what  she 
thought  of  the  life  her  si.vteen-year-oUfson 
luid  chosen.  She  would  go  to  (ilcndale,  and 
there  rummage  for  hours  in  secondhand 
stores,  buying  i)ictures  for  seventy-live  cents, 
for  a  dollar,  for  two  dollars.  Thesi-  pictures 
she  would  bring  to  me  for  my  opinion. 

"She  comes  one  day  with  two  armfuls  of 
these  iiictures  she  has  Ixnight  in  Olendale 
which  she  arranges  in  the  gallery  for  my 
criti(iue. 

"'Get  away  from  here,  I-'rank,"  she  said. 
"I'll  call  you  when  I'm  ready.'" 

She  was  on  her  knees,  i)ropi)ing  the  pic- 
tures against  the  wall  at  regular  intervals 
until  she  had  a  kmg  line  of  the  dirty,  dusty 
paintings.  She  was  still  on  her  knees  when  she 
called  Perls.  He  stood  against  the  opposite 
wall,  stiiring  for  a  moment  at  each  picture, 
examining  the  entire  group  while  she  waited. 

"That  one,"  he  said,  ix)inting  his  pencil. 
"That  one  there  is  interesting." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  interesting,  Frank?  " 
Fanny  asked,  sitting  on  the  floor  now,  her 
right  arm  out  for  support. 

"It  has  something.  There  is  a  freshness 
alx)ut  it.  There  .  .  .  did  all  these  pictures 
come  from  (ilendale,  Fanny?" 

'■  I  just  bought  them.  What  about  lliis  one, 
Frank?" 

"I  see  talent  there,  Fanny,"  Perls  said. 
"Young  talent,  but  g(x)d  talent." 

"Are  you  sure,  Frank? " 

"Of  course  I  am  sure.  Certainly,  I  am 
sure,"  he  said,  as  Fanny  pushed  herself  u|3 
from  the  tl(X)r. 

She  seized  Perls'  wrists  and  held  them 
tightly,  laughing  in  his  face.  "That's  Bill's 
picture,"  she  said.  "The  one  you  picked  is 
Bill's,  he  painted  it." 

"Fanny,  I  am  very  happy." 

"  y'ou're  happy.  How  do  you  think  I  feel?  " 

Fanny  went  back  to  the  pictures,  kneeling 
once  more  to  gather  them,  leaving  her  son's 
for  the  top. 

Several  years  ago,  Fanny's  friend  Moss 
Hart  moved  into  a  new  Manhattan  apart- 
ment. 

Several  of  his  other  friends,  stuck  for  a 
suitable  gift  for  the  gilt-edge,  extraordinarily 
successful  playwright,  adopted  the  sugges- 
tion of  one  puckish  member.  Producing  a 
particularly  puzzling  abstraction,  that  worthy 
took  brush  in  hand  and  with  careful  care- 
lessness signed  "Braque"  in  the  right-hand 
corner.  The  painting,  he  told  his  delighted 
confederates,  had  cost  him  tw-o  dollars  at  a 
Greenwich  Village  art  show.  The  price  of  a 
Braque  was  currently  several  thousand  times 
more. 

The  next  evening  the  gentlemanly  Moss 
Hart  was  moved  by  an  unexpected  mass  visit 
of  his  friends.  He  was  moved  more  deeply 
when  one  of  them  presented  the  painting. 
Mr.  Hart  insisted  on  hanging  his  expensive 
gift  immediately,  insisting,  over  the  protests 
of  his  modest  donors,  that  it  occupy  the 
place  of  honor  directly  over  the  fireplace. 

There  it  hung  for  many  months.  Mr,  Hart 
let  no  visitor  to  his  home  escape  without 
leading  him  to  the  Braque  abstraction  and 
extracting  murmurs  of  admiration. 

One  night ,  during  a  particularly  large  soiree, 
Mr.  Hart  led  Fanny  to  his  painting.  "How- 
do  you  like  my  Braque,  Fanny?"  he  asked. 

F"anny  studied  the  painting  for  some  time. 
Then,  wetting  her  finger,  she  ran  it  over  the 
signature.  When  she  removed  her  finger  the 
"Braque"  was  gone. 

"Now  how  do  you  like  it? "  she  replied. 

(To  be  Concluded) 


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LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


January,  195. 


Are  you  codkin^  witih. 

NonfatDiyMflk? 


s^sl^V— soGSLsy!  so  Gconoinical !  so  nutritio-us! 


Easy  to  Mix..  •  Use  Nonfat  Dry  Milk  just  as  it  comes  from  the  pack- 
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KQGpS!  frGSfli  lOn^Gl?.  ..  7i.|is  milk  product  retains  moisture 
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Va  lb.  smoked  ham, 

ground 
V2  lb.  lean  pork,  ground 
'A  lb.  beef,  ground 
V2  teaspoon  salt 


1  cup  water 

ii  cup  Nonfat  Dry  Milk 
3  tablespoons  chopped 

onion 
1  cup  fine  bread  crumbs 


Nonfat  Dry  Milk 
and  other  dairy 
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1  egg,  beaten 

Mix  all  ingredients  thoroughly  in  large  bowl. 
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AMERICAN  DAIRY  ASSOCIATION 

"Voice  of  the  Dairy  Farmer" 
20  N.  Wacker  Drive  Building,  Chicago  6,  Illinois 


Together,  Boh  and  Gina  Short,  of  Concord,  California,  take 
hammer,  saw  and  paintbrush  in  hand  for  ''20-year  building  plan.'' 


By  itUd4»gardi'  MPolson 


Concord,  California 

Dear  How  America  Lives:  How  could  you  describe  our  little  family?  Well, 
we  look  very  much  like  one  bottle  of  milk  standing  alongside  ten  thousand 
other  bottles  of  milk.  The  only  reason  I  would  dare  to  write  you  about  us  is 
that  we're  so  typical  of  our  community.  We  happen  to  live  in  the  fastest- 
growing  county  in  California.  This  East  San  Francisco  Bay  area  consists  of 
one  tract  development  on  top  of  another.  You  cau  be  certain  if  you  see 
a  bulldozer  clearing  a  couple  of  acres  of  ground  that  a  hundred  houses 
will  spring  up  overnight  and  be  populated  with  people  who  are  just  like  us! 


.  .  .  sell  u  pint  of  blood  to  set  tin- 
money  to  get  married? 

.  .  .  take  a  house  apart,  move  it  four 
miles  and  build  a  different  house, 
using  the  same  materials? 

.  .  ,  carry  uater  uphill,  heat  it  on  the 
stove,  bathe  the  ehildren  in  it.  I  lien 
scrub  the  floor  uith  it? 

Some  people  say  pioneer  days  are  over, 
complain  that  young  people  today  take  only 
the  easy  paths.  But  the  JouRX.-u..  looking  at 
our  own  young  marrieds,  our  readers'  letters, 
didn't  agree. 

We  find  young  people  building  houses  with 
their  own  hands,  former  coeds  nailing  shingles, 
pretty  e.x-secretaries  sawing  two-by-fours,  chil- 
dren handing  tools,  husbands  pouring  concrete. 
We  find  girl  mothers  in  blue  jeans  following  the 
frontier  ways  of  their  calico-clad  great-great- 
grandmothers,  young  couples  working  together, 
loving,  saving,  sacrificing,  creating. 

Read  with  us  the  stories  of  this  courageous 
generation  in 

How  youM-iaierm  Lives 


132 


PHOTOGRAPHS    RV    ESTHER  BIIBLEV 


Home-fixers  Bob  and  Gina  borrowed  a  "How  To"  book  on  < uii^li  lu  tion, 
"and  we  grope  our  way  togetlier  and  profit  by  our  mistakes — eventually." 


'An  empty  hous^^  a  stretch  of  dirt''  to  start. 

Noiu  home  ami  earth  are  flowering;. 


This  is  our  pligbt — being  average  in  a  wIkiIc 
territory  of  average  people: 

1  —  Average  housing  (we  do  have  a  yellow  door). 

2 —  Average  income  (I  don't  believe  it!). 

3—  r Average  personalities  (-?). 

4 —  Average  offspring  (one  five-year-old  boy  named 
"Rhubarb"  and  a  six-month-old  .Siamese  eat  named 
Cliing-Y  u). 

.S — Above-average  plans  for  the  future! 

Thank  heavens,  we  don't  have  any  "keeping  up 
with  the  Joneses"  ideas  in  our  neighborhood!  Our 
house  is  in  a  development  exclusively  for  e\-servire- 
men  and  their  families.  We're  all  young  and  full  of 
pep  and  of  ideas  for  improvement  that  always  exceed 


<iMr  income.  Since  almost  everyone  around  us  is 
owning  a  home  for  the  very  first  time,  we've  all  had 
the  same  problems: 

How  do  you  put  in  a  lawn? 

How  do  you  put  up  a  fence? 

How  do  we  build  a  patio? 

What  did  you  do  with  your  living  room? 

AH  these  problems  get  to  be  even  more  nerve- 
lacking  when  you  have  to  budget  and  save  for  so 
long  to  take  one  half  step  forward.  My  husband, 
Robert,  is  a  foreman  at  the  Columbia-Geneva  steel 
mill.  In  19.S1  I  finished  a  three-year  working  stint.  So 
many  young  wives  with  rfew  homes  have  done  and 
are  doing  the  very  same  thing.  Bob  was  a  prize  for  a 
working  wife  during  those  years.  On  top  of  being  a 
neat,  picks-up-his-clothes  husband,  he's  an  inspired 
cook  who  caters  to  sour  cream  on  just  about  every- 
thing, and  just  a  pinch  of  the  right  herb.  He  leaves  no 
sinkful  of  dirty  dishes  either — I  couldn't  ask  for  a 
more  ideal  cooking  mate. 

We  hope  to  enlarge  our  family  next  year  and  save 
Rhubarb  from  the  doom  of  being  an  only  child.  Our 
neighborhood  is  so  full  of  cute  little  demons  all 
about  the  same  age  that  he's  learning  to  share  or  be 
smashed  over  the  head  with  a  stick  by  one  of  his 
more  playful  playmates. 

We're  close  enough  to  San  Francisco  (4.5  minutes) 
so  that  we  may  enjoy  their  zoo,  the  really  good 


Bob  started  in  steel  mill  as  member 
of  work  crew,  became  foreman  a 
year  later.  After  nightwork,  he  sleeps 
days  until  three  P.M.,  "with  luck." 


Gina  and  Bob  confer  on  recipes;  he's  the  better 
cook,  says  she,  but  too  lavish  with  eggs,  butter. 
"Knows  herbs.  Never  leaves  a  sinkful  of  dishes!" 


"We're  happy,  and  grateful  to  each  other,  but  it's 
not  constant-wedded-bliss."  Arguments  are  fewer, 
still  flare  ("She's  careless,"  "He's  too  orderly"). 


Hflii]!'  ami  alter  heacli  meal.--.  Ia\ciritc-  laniiK  >)iiirl  i- 
to  collect  odd-shaped  driftwood,  stack  it  in  station 
wagon,  haul  it  home  for  decorating  use.  To  teach 


Kliuliarl)  liner  lliinj^^  in  lilc"'  parents  lauiiliiiif^ly 
recall  they  placed  him  hefoie  a  phonograph  at  age  of 
two  weeks,  earnestly  played  Nutcracker  Suite  records. 


Gina  held  a  job  for  three  years; 

'^Rhubarb,"  left  with  baby-sitters,  was  lonely. 
Now  mother's  home  all  day  he  gets  extra  love,  full  attention. 


plays,  and  the  wonderful  restaurants  that  seem  to  acM 
five  pounds  to  me  every  time  I  step  inside  the  door. 

Living  as  we  do,  close  to  "the  city,"  it's  convenient 
and  yet  not  so  close  that  we  don't  feel  it's  a  big  occa- 
sion to  save  our  money  for  one  big  night^jn^ town 
every  so  often.  Then  we're  gladTo  come'fiome  to  our 
chorus  of  crickets  and  frogs,  the  sweet  country  air, 
and  our  houses  all  in  a  row. 

So  you  see — even  though  we  may  struggle  and  feel 
a  little  poor  sometimes,  we're  very  happy  here  and  not 
the  least  bit  ashamed  of  being  so  very,  very  average. 

Sincerely, 
V'iRGiNiA  Short 

4NY  resemblance  between  the  people  men- 
jr\.  tioned  in  the  above  letter  and  a  fair-haired 
couple  having  their  first  date  seven  years  ago 
seems  astonishingly  coincidental.  On  that  oc- 
casion, young  Navy  Lt.  Robert  Short  told  nine- 
teen-year-old Virginia  Thomas  kindly  but  firmly 
that  he  was  a  confirmed  bachelor.  Miss  Tiiomas, 
a  green-eyed,  sunfast  blonde,  couldn't  have 
cared  less.  She  was  charmed  with  the  new  free- 
dom of  working  in  San  Francisco  and  having  a 
different  beau  for  every  night  in  the  week. 

What's  more,  (Continued  on  Page  144) 


Bob  taught  Rhubarb  swim  strokes  in  bathtub,  pre- 
pared him  for  enjoying  water  sports.  At  nearby 
river,  they  practice  pitching  aim  by  hurling  rocks. 


I.  \  I)  I  I 


II    11    \|     I         I    i»    I      It     N     \  I. 


Not  a  sliadow  of  a  (IouIjL 
with  Kolcx 


—  ivith  Kotex  you  get  absorbency  that  doesn't  fail: 
the  trustworthy  kind  of  protection  you  need,  lor  safety, 
for  comfort,  and  a  fresii,  dainty  feeling. 

• 

—  and  only  Kotex  of  all  leading  napkins  has 
flat,  pressed  ends.  So  there's  no  revealing  outline. 

—  best  of  all,  this  pad  is  made  to  stay  soft 

while  wearing— to  retain  its  fit  and  comfort  for  hours. 
No  wonder  Kotex  is  America's  first  choice  in  napkins 
.  .  .  very  personally  yours. 


uper  Kolex  in 
the  Brown  Box 


Junior  Kotex  in 
tlie  Green  Box 


Rpsiilar  Kotex  in 
the  Blue  Box 


More  IV omen  choose  Kotex* 
than  all  other  sanitary  napkins 


Not  a  shadow  of  a  doubt  when  Toni  Owen  turns  her  talent  for 
separates  to  imported  Scottish  tweeds.  Above -a  brief  jacket  ^Wth 
versatile  cardigan  neckline;  a  free  and  easy  skirt.  Both  :  lush  oatmeal  beige. 


*T.  U.  REG.  U.  S-  PAT.  OFF. 


136 


"I  can  wear  it  year  round  in  California.  I  especially  like  the 
smooth  bodice  with  its  push-up  sleeves,  and  the  skirt  with 
easy  fullness."  "Easy-to-Make"  Junior  Vogue  Design  No.  3478. 


'/{/Pi 


"We  love  simple,  casual  clothes  in  wonderful  fabrics,"  Gina  Short 
told  us.  "Most  of  us  wear  shorts  and  dungarees  in  the  morning,  but 
in  the  afternoon  and  evening  we  make  every  effort  to  look  our  pret- 
tiest." Clothes  which  are  easy  to  care  for,  easy  to  make  and  easy 
to  wear  mean  much  to  busy  young  marrieds  whose  every  day 
bustles  with  activity.  Quality  woolens,  permanent-finish  washable 
cottons,  and  pleats  that  stay  in  are  some  of  the  things  they  look 
for  when  they  shop  for  fabrics.  Separates  to  interchange,  dresses  with 
simple  lines,  and  jumpers  are  the  designs  they  want  most.  They 
make  the  most  of  their  time  .  .  .  the  most  of  their  clothes  .  .  .  and 
the  most  of  their  money.  By  Nora  O'Leary 

Pnllprn  Eililiir  of  llio  hinrnnl 


JOHN  ENGSTEAD 


"It  goes  in  and  out  of  the  washing  machine  as  quick 
as  a  wink.  The  check  is  my  favorite  blue,  with  a 
woven  desijin  throuj;h  il."  Vogue  Design  No.  7675. 


"Especially  for  evening.  Nothing  is  more  adapt- 
able than  a  silk-faille  skirt  ...  I  wear  it  with 
sweater  tops,  halters,  sometimes  a  bright 
velveteen  jacket."  Vogue  Design    No.  7764. 


Ji 


said  Gina.  "I  bought  this  permanently  pleated 
Orlon-and-wool  jersey  packaged  in  a  skirt  length, 
made  the  sleeveless  blouse  in  matching  fabric." 
Also  comes  in  beige.  Vogue  Design  No.  7545. 


miicr  Vi«>ws,  Kizt's  and  Pri<><'N  of  Vo£u«> 
I'atlorns  on  I'aiff  \TtX\. 

Buy  Vogue  Patlerns  at  the  store  which  sella  them  in  your  city. 
Or  order  by  mail,  enclosing  check  or  money  oriler,*from  Vogue 
Pattern  Service.  Putnam  Ave.,  Greenwich,  Conn.;  or  in  Canada 
from  198  Siiadina  Ave.,  Toronto,  Ont.  .Some  prices  slightly 
higher  in  Canada.  (*Conn.  residents  please  add  sales  tax.) 


Kuf{fniiil)ii|ilkc<-|mlii!r 
2,')*  wuihilinr  Willi. Iiiilv 
IwiMtH  anil  \m-uiU. 
I"  lifihl:  (I)  Twi-i 

I'l  l  IhhIs  Id  I, .(I,  Im'imI 
over,  li.iirli  n'nlil  (iiip  r 
li|>«  111  Irll  liMil.  Hr. 
prat  <i|i|iiiHilri|iiri  liiiii. 
(2)  Slaiiil  Willi  liri 
aparl  ami  (\vi?,|  ujijin 
IiimIv  Im.k  anil  rurili. 
I'i'<-I  |iiill  ai  waiNl.  (.{) 
l.inMT  iiiii|\  sidwiv  inlii 
ili  i  |i  kiicf  lii-iiil.  liiild- 
iiif^  tuiiiiny  in,  hark 
xliaighl.  Ki.H,-.  ic|ifal. 


0. 


A  [Miny  lail  rln-s.scs  u|i!  ili-rr  Ciiia  Slii.rl 
lii;s  \ciliii"  aioiinil  knot  in  hack,  uilh  rihhnn  Ih.a 


ALIVE  in  the  iiioinini^!  lleipliil  ingredients:  a  scrubhed 
face,  brushed  hair,  bright  lipstick  and  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind. 
Mix  with  something  fresh  to  wear  around  the  house, 
"flats"  for  comfort  .  .  .  and  we're  set  for  the  day! 

GLAMOROUS  in  the  evening  .  .  .  even  if  we're  not  going 
mit.  The  (jiiick  change  takes  place  hefnre  husbands  come  home 
from  work — can  be  anything  from  a  refurbished  face  (com- 
plete with  a  touch  of  mascara,  eye  shadow  and  glowing  make-up 
iiase)  to  one  of  his  favorite  dresses,  ribbon  in  the  liair.  flower 
at  the  neckline.  Anything  that  says,  "Pretty." 

SLIM  at  all  times.  It  may  mean  "sitting  it  out"  while  daddy 
and  Junior  help  themselves  to  "extras"  or  luscious 
desserts.  The  reward  comes  when  zippers  at  waistlines  zoom  up 
without  a  hitch  and  you  weigh  in  at  your  prewedding-day 
weight!  Diet  does  it — lots  of  lean  meat,  green  vegetables, 
simple  salads,  fresh  fruit— and  will  power! 

CLEAR-SKINNED.  We  have  a  lot  of  oily-skin  problems  out 
our  way,  despite  the  California  sunshine.  These  things 
help  counteract:  Soap-and-water  cleansings,  skin  astrin- 
gents, medicated  lotions  (individually  prescribed  by  a  doctor). 
Neighhorlwod  secret:  There  is  a  make-up,  heavier  tban  most, 
purposelv  planned  to  hide  maddening  splotches.  Effective  for 
emergency  use,  comes  in  a  lipstick-size  case  in 
several  skin-tone  shades.  By  Dawn  Crowell  Norman 

lieantY  Editor  of  the.  Journal 


lluHhand  and  wife  team  up  I' 
new  home  pcrmaiir-iil.  "Toiii  i- 
ti-rrifif  wilh  back  ciirU."  Mary 
Merrill  s;iv-.  "Il  leaves  time.  ' 


At  four,  Michaelanne  Diehl 
gets  basic  training  in  what 
makes  mother  prettv.  Both 
wear  ribbon  headband  bows. 


For  health  and  highlights  Ruth 
Gray  brushes  hair  each  dav. 
For  parties  she  "paints"  in  a 
light  streak  of  gold  or  silver. 


By  rY:N'TIIIA  .>I<-AI»04» 


/'^INA  and  Boh  Short's  new  living  room 

converted  from  their  garage  (I'ortui  jila\ 
nately  attached  to  the  house),  embodief 
comfort,  airiness  and  color.  The  window  n  al 
wall  gives  on  the  patio,  perfect  for  indoori  fct; 
outdoor  living.   A  raised  fireplace  gives, 
warmth  and  cheer  on  chilly  evenings,  was 
built  so  the  wood  box  is  accessible  from  the' 
workroom  behind,  formerly  also  a  part  ofi 
the  garage.  Along  the  wall  facing  the  street 
are  high  slot  windows  where  the  top  of  thel 
garage  doors  used  to  be.  The  wall  connect-' 
ing  garage  and  old  living  room  (now  dining, 
all-purpose  room)  was  torn  down,  rnaking  a 
wide  step-down  entrance  into  the  new  rooin. 

When  it  came  to  deeoratingj  the  Shorts 
had  definite,  well-thought-out  ideas  as  to 
colors  and  materials.  They  wanted  sheer  fceij 


room 


> 


hecomes  the  background  for  a  medlev  of  gar  colors  in  the  Sh< 


:hl.  spacious  living  room.  If  indonrrl  nrill  faces  on  neiv  patio. 


tains  that  would  diffuse  the  light  during 
day,  yet  give  a  cozy  atmosphere  at  night, 
h  love  colors  that  are  bright  and  gav: 
y  also  needed  some  hardy  materials  to 
hstand  tiie  wear  and  tear  of  a  small  bov. 
their  "big"  item,  the  Shorts  purchased  a 
1-to-wall  rug,  and  because  "we're  great 
•r  sitters,"  as  Gina  says,  they  laid  in  a 
>ply  of  large  comfortable  cushions. 

amateur  painter,  (iina  picked  some  of 

colors  for  the  new  room  from  her  ab- 
ict  oil  painting:  pale  gray  as  the  neutral 
kground  color,  purple,  pink  and  coral  for 
ents.  She  searched  a  long  time  before 
ling  the  purple  plaid  that  she  had  set 

heart  on,  finally  found  it  in  a  cotton 
ss  fabric,  decided  to  quilt  it  for  strength, 
ight   and   texture.   The  secondhand 


chesterfield  was  a  real  "find."  Thev  fixed 
it  up,  covered  it  in  forest-green  antique 
cotton  satin,  slip-covered  their  old  studio 
couch  in  the  grav  of  the  walls.  Gina  made 
their  lovely  light  curtains  of  theatrical 
gauze  in  a  neutral  greige.  The  lloor  cushions 
are  covered  in  the  sunniest,  brightest  crab- 
apple  chintz  and  yellow  sailcloth,  rich  pur- 
ple felt,  soft  pink  cotton  satin.  Small  scatter 
pillows  in  these  colors  lend  warmth  to  the 
studio  couch,  brighten  the  chesterfield. 
Their  wall-to-wall  carpeting  is  of  light  gray 
cotton  with  a  plasticized  back.  The  new 
armless  chairs  were  a  "special,"  seemed  to 
be  just  made  for  the  quilted  plaid. 

If  Gina  is  handy  with  needle  and  thread. 
Bob  is  equally  so  with  hammer  and  saw; 
he  made  the  two  end  tables,  baluster  lamps. 


HOttimm  um 

/I 


Plan  shows  new  room  formed  by  knocking  out  dining-room  ivall. 
partitioning  and  remodeling  garage 

into  workshop  and  large  living  room. 


140 


Half  a  barrel  makes  an  attractive 
plant  box  for  the  Shorts'  patio. 


care  of  a  good  deal  of  the 
seating  problem  in  the  patio; 
makes  a  convenient  buffet  when 
we  have  an  outdoor  cooking 
party,  or  just  a  few  friends 
in  for  the  evening.  We  also 
bought  at  an  Army-Navy  sur- 
plus store  a  canvas  stretcher, 
on  a  wooden  frame,  with 
wooden  legs.  It  makes  a  fine, 
good-looking  bench,  and  cost 
only  $2.00!  To  go  with  this, 
we  got  two  canvas  director's 
chairs,  for  only  $7.95  each." 


ESTHER  BL'BLEV 


Bob  and  Virginia  Short, 
witii  the  help  of  Kenny-Bob 
("Rhubarb"),  put  in  a  lawn 
and  an  l_-shaped  brick  patio 
in  back  of  their  Concord, 
California,  home.  "When  we 
moved  in,"  they  say,  "the 
only  bright  outlook  about 
our  new  status  as  landed 
gentry  was  that  every  fam- 
ily in  our  tract  was  in  ex- 
actly the  same  situation." 


By  NANCY  CRAWFORD 


"What  you  can  do  with  a  pile  of  sweet-smelling  lumber 
and  a  sketch  on  the  back  of  a  grocery  list 

has  been  the  big  thrill  of  our  lives!" 


SEATING  FOR  THE  PATIO 
"When  we  moved  into  our  new  house," 
said  Gina  and  Boh,  "our  hack  yard  was 
75'  X  no'  of  clay  soil  with  no  personality, 
and  a  couple  of  beautiful  pear  trees.  The 
largest  tree  stands  right  in  one  of  the  cor- 
ners of  our  fence,  and  we  decided  to  make  a 
tree  bench  by  boxing  the  tree  in  on  two 
sides.  We  used  4  x  4's  for  the  base  (it  was 
secondhand  lumber  that  a  friend  gave  us), 
nailing  them  together  in  the  traditional 
overlapping  'log  cabin'  pattern  for  extra 
support.  The  only  thing  we  had  to  buy  was 
lumber  for  the  seat  top — fir  2  x  8's — total 
cost,  $9.00.  We  varnished  the  fir  seat  part, 
and  for  the  base,  a  coat  of  brown  fence  paint. 
(We  found  a  five-gallon  can  in  a  second- 
hand store  for  $5.00.  It  Was  slightly  stiff  but 
still  perfectly  good.)  The  tree  bench  takes 


BARRELS  FOR  PLANTS 
"Our  two  plant  boxes  for  the  patio 
started  out  in  life  as  the  two  halves  of  a 
32-gallon  barrel.  We  bought  a  secondhand 
one  in  excellent  condition  from  a  barrel 
company  that  we  found  in  the  classified 
telephone  directory.  They  charged  $3.50 
for  the  barrel,  and  an  extra  50  cents  for 
sawing  it  in  half  and  boring  four  holes 
in  the  bottom  of  each  section  for  drainage. 
The  giant  aralia  plants  cost  $3.50  apiece, 
and  we  think  their  soft  leafy  foliage  is  per- 
fect for  a  large  container  like  this.  We 
painted  the  iron  bands  of  the  barrel  with 
black  stove  enamel  (two  coats)  to  guard 
against  rust.  You  could  also  paint  ihe 
barrel's  outside  before  painting  the  iron 
hoops.  We  thought  about  it,  but  decided 
that  we  liked  the  natural  wood  color  besfi" 


Secondhand  plow  disk:  idea  for  an  outdoor  grill. 

HOMEMADE  OUTDOOR  GRILL 
"We  saw  an  old  circular  30"  plow  disk 
blade  in  a  junk  yard  one  day  and  bought  it 
for  $1.75.  There  were  four  holes  in  the  bot- 
tom, just  right  for  inserting  legs.  (A  fifth  hole 
in  the  center  serves  as  a  draft.)  We  inserted 
steel  bars,  threaded  on  one  end,  securing 
them  on  top  and  underneath  with  nuts.  Next 
step  was  a  round  collar  of  openwork  metal, 
about  6"  high  and  15"  across,  which  we  set 
down  into  the  center  of  the  disk.  We  had 
the  round  grillwork  top  which  rests  on  the 
openwork  collar  made  by  a  blacksmith  for 
$5.00— he  used  H"  steel  bars  placed 
apart — the  whole  thing  36"  in  diameter." 


A  corner  ol  tlic  Sliorts"  finished  patio.  They  put  up  their  own 
fence,  using  redwood  4  x  4's  for  the  posts,  1  x8's  for  horizontals. 


^ai{Ih;n  dividkk. 

^"Wr  have  h('1);ii;iI('(I 
iir  'service'  area,  v\ lien- 
lie  lamidry  is  \\un<i,  and 
lie  hash  is  liuriieii,  Itoiii 
lie  palii)  and  lawn  w  ill)  a 
I'llaiifAiilar  \()'  Aitu^-hy- 
'diii^li  ili\  ider  ienco.  We 
sed  I  \()  redwood,  sanded 
11(1  liiiislied,  lor  llie  lliree-seel ioiial  Iraiiu 
liscd  il  alioul  ()" 
and  drill  we  niad( 
olloni  ol  llie  Iraiiie  al  (/'  inlervals  (aiiollier 
'ay  inif^lil  he  lo  insert  eyelet  screws  instead 
f  drilliiif^  the  holes),  'i'he  last  step  was  to 
tring  the  Iraine  tliroiif^li  the  holes  ('r(tni  to|> 
3  bottom  with  white  plastic  clothesline.  It 
loks  very  modern  and  attractive,  and 
prves  as  just  a  suf^gestion  ol  a  division 
elween  the  twd  halves  of  tiie  i)ack  yard." 


//()/)  (iiiil  I  iifiiniii  siriiiifj:  llir  fiiinlrn  ilii  idn  mill  /ilif,!/!  t  hillit  sliiir. 


)\\  the  ground.  With  a 
holes  along  the  top  and 


Rhubarb' s  dcsh-lnirenu-toYbox  began  life  as  an  old  hiiraiii. 


r^OOM  FOR  RHUBARB. 

LL  ''A  small  boy's  room  always  presents 
ery  special  problems:  everything  in  the 
isual  closet  is  beyond  reach;  he  has  to  have 
3ts  of  space  for  storing  his  mountainous 
ollection  of  knickknacks  and  toys.  We  con- 
tructed  a  special  combination  desk-bureau- 
nd-toybox  for  Rhubarb  that  is  the  answer 


to  all  11  is  needs,  we  think.  We  started  hv  lakiii" 

n 

lour  drawers  I  romaiioldseciondhand  luireaii. 
Hob  made  a  IVame  for  them  (lx2|tine),  run- 
ning across  the  wall,  and  i)uili  the  drawers 
in,  side  hy  side,  supporting  them  with  legs 
from  uiiderneatli.  The  whole  thing  is  OO" 
long  l)y  high,  'i'lie  drawers  lake  care  ol' 
most  ol  {{bubarb's  clothes  and  a  lot  of  his 
accumulation  of  toys.  The  lop  serves  as  a 
desk  lor  him,  when  lie  wants  to  paint  and 
crayon.  At  the  right,  forming  a  base  lor  the 
drawers  at  one  end.  Mob 
built  a  hinged  2r'x  2i"x 
16"  compartment  that 
makes  a  wonderful  toy- 
box.  (It  is  large  enough 
lor  Rhubarb  to  get  inside 
and  shut  himscdf  up,  and 
he  often  does.)  For  the 
clotlu's  that  need  to  be 
hung  up,  we  attach(>d  a 
thin  strip  of  wood  to  the 
wall,  and  put  up  pegs  al 
a  convenient  height  so 
that  be  can  bang  up  his 
own  things.  Cost  for  ev- 
erything: under  .$10.00. 

"When  it  came  to  a 
bed  for  our  little  boy's 
room.  Bob  used  a  slab  door  that  had  formerly 
separated  our  kitchen  and  dining  alcove.  He 
built  a  six-legged  frame  for  the  door  to  rest 
on  from  2x4  pine,  12"  off  the  floor.  He 
boxed  the  whole  thing  in  around  the  bot- 
tom with  pine  boards,  finishing  it  off  near 
the  floor  with  H"  quarter-round  molding. 
The  mattress  just  rests  flat  on  the  door." 


i 


Hon'mEMLim 


Balusters  for  these  two  lamps 
cost  $2.50  in  a  used-lumber 
yard.  Holes  for  cords  were 
drilled  through  the  center  of 
each.  Materials  for  wiring 
both  cost  $3.98.  The  Shorts 
also  made  lamps  from  two 
World  War  I  copper  chem- 
ical containers;  sank  a  dime- 
store  lamp  down  inside  each 
of  the  containers,  then  half- 
filled  them  with  plaster  of 
Paris,  and  allowed  it  to  set. 


141 


I 


> '((/  i-mii  I  III  iiiiin  Y'lurt  al'' 


i'lial  there  are  astronoinicui  wavh  to  uwe  a  vaciiuni ' 
cicarifr?  Allacli  a  small  funnel,  anrl  blow  up  y«>ur 
cliildrcn's  hallooris.  .  .  .  iJiist  olTllic  .sialks  and  IcavcH 
of  giant-eared  plants.  .  .  .  Uoh  arul  Virginiu  Sliorl 
vacuum  their  screens,  ash  trays,  and  the  inside  of  the 
(irc[)lace;  use  the  vacuum  to  spray  the  patio  with 
insect  spray,  even  use  (me  of  the  smallest  hrusli 
allaclunetUs  on  their  cat.  (She  loves  it!) 


That  you  caij  rent  a  wax- 
ing machine  from  the  hard- 
ware store,  for  about  a  dollar 
a  day.  and  do  all  your  floors 
at  once?  Did  you  know  that 
you  can  rent  from  the 
same  source  paint  sprayers. 
Sanders,  lawn  mowers,  even 
(•ement  mixers? 

"We're  planning  to  hang  a 
perforated  pieceofwallhoard 
behind  our  kitchen  range," 
say  the  Shorts.  "We'll  slick 
u[)  all  our  pans  and  light- 


pegs  in  the  holes,  lianf 
weight  kitchen  utensils. 


"For  cleaning  windows,"  says  Virginia  Short,  "I  beg 
or  buy  from  a  nearby  service  station  the  treated  paper 
towels  they  use  on  windshields." 

"A  couple  of  years  ago,  I  learned  a  wonderful  trick 
from  my  Girl  Scout  troop.  When  cooking  outdoors 
over  a  charcoal  grill  like  ours,  soap  the  bottoms  of 
the  pans  (on  the  outside  of  course)  before  you  cook 
in  them.  Thev  will  be  a  cinch  to  clean  afterward." 


"I  always  use  an  old  sock 
for  part  of  my  dusting — 
put  it  on  like  a  glove,  and 
you  can  dust  in  all  kinds 
of  nooks  and  crannies 
where  a  rag  can't  get." 


ss 


Did  you  know  about 
ratchets?  Not  an  animal, 
but  a  simple  device  to 
keep  small  children  from  opening  every  drawer  they 
see.  A  l"x  6"stripof  aluminum  He  "thick  is  fastened 
under  the  bottom  of  the  drawer.  The  drawer  must  be 
lifted  slightly  in  order  to 
pull  it  out — which  you  can 
do,  but  small  children  can't. 


For  a  smooth,  quickest 
possible  job  when  painting 
walls  or  other  flat  surfaces, 
try  rubber-base  paint,  ap- 
plied with  one  of  the  new 
paint  rollers.  The  roller  is 
9"  across,  covers  twice  the 
area  covered  by  the  usual 
brush,  and  costs  about 
S1.98. 


IS  15 

1 

Gina  and  Bob  Short  entertain  as  often  as  possible  out  in  their  patio.  They  set  up  a  buffet  witli  plates 
and  silver  on  the  tree  bench,  cook  outdoors  on  their  charcoal  grill.  One  of  their  favorite  outdoor 
menus:  individual  steaks  which  Gina  marinates  overnight  in  French  dressing,  and  a  big  salad. 


Make- Your- Own -Sandidch  Tray 
Hot  Potato  Salad 
Broitnies 

L  1 

1MUST  admit  that  I've  just  discovered  the  joys 
of  cooking  within  the  last  two  years.  Up  until 
that  time,  I  was  respectively  a  "burned-biscuit" 
bride,  a  working  wife  and  then  a  harried  new 
mother  with  too  much  to  do  and  not  enough  time. 


are  a  "make-your-own-sandwiches"  party 
(where  the  guests  do  a  good  share  of  the  work) 
and  an  Italian  spaghetti  dinner  (everyone  thinks 
she  knows  the  world's  best  spaghetti  recipe — 
ours  is  really  something  special).  Last  year, 
around  holiday  time,  we  had  a  party  for  twelve. 
I  arranged  a  big  tray  of  sandwich  makings:  rye 
bread,  French  and  black  bread,  piles  of  baked 
ham  and  salami,  sharp  Cheddar  and  Gouda 
cheeses,  dill  pickles.  Of  course,  a  big  pot  of 
mustard.  For  the  hot  dish,  we  served  hot  potato 
salad.  Dessert  was  a  big  bowl  of  apples  and  wal- 
nuts standing  by  the  fireplace,  brownies  and 
coffee. 

Hot  Potato  Salad.  Into  a  big  casserole  put 
about  10-12  potatoes  that  have  been  boiled, 
peeled  and  cut  into  chunks.  Heat  in  a 
saucepan  6  tablespoons  salad  oil,  3 
tablespoons  tarragon  vinegar,  3  table- 
spoons lemon  juice,  1  tablespoon  grated 
onion,  l/i  teaspoons  salt,  and  pour 
over  potatoes  in  casserole.  Sprinkle 
with  2  tablespoons  chopped  parsley, 
4  slices  bacon,  cooked  and  crumbled, 
lots  of  pepper.  Heat  in  moderate 
oven,  350°  F.,  till  piping  hot.  Toss. 


Italian  Spaghetti 


The  last  two  years,  I've  been  surprising  myself 
by  becoming  a  thrifty  shopper  and  a  wizard  with 
a  pound  of  hamburger. 

Bob  and  I  love  to  give  large  parties  every  now 
and  then,  particularly  around  holiday  time.  We 
also  love  the  easiest  possible  way  of  giving  them. 
Our  two  favorites  for  entertaining  a  large  crowd 


I 
I 

Green  Stilad  —  Ch i ve-  Tarragon  Fren ch  Dressing  [ 

I 
I 
I 
I 


Bel  Paese  Cheese — Pears 


Here's  the  Spaghetti  Sauce.  Brown  2  medium 
onions,  chopped  (about  1  cup),  in  3  table- 
spoons salad  oil  along  with  2  peeled  cloves  garlic, 
crushed.  Add  one  6-ounce  can  tomato  paste  and 
1  pound  finely  ground  hamburger.  The  beef  is 
not  browned  before  adding  the  sauce  in  this 
recipe.  Add  1  No.  2'  2  can  tomatoes,  1  can  con- 
densed tomato  soup,  VA  teaspoons  cinnamon,  1 
teaspoon  salt,  H  teaspoon  pepper  and  IH  tea- 
spoons chili  powder.  Cover  and  simmer  for  VA 
hours  over  low  heat.  Serves  6. 


I  Tamale  Casserole 

!    Radish,  Carrot  and  Lettuce  Vegetable  Salad 

I  Fruit  Compote:  Pineapple,  Frozen  Strawberries 


THIS  and  the  next  menu  are  favorites  of  ours 
for  dinners  at  home  alone,  although  we  often 
serve  the  tamale  casserole  or  the  "Spanish  casse-  - 
role"  (taught  me  by  my  mother,  long  ago)  when  hi 
we  have  just  another  couple  in  for  dinner. 
Tamale  Casserole:  Drain  one  IS'  j-ounce  can  J 
tamales.  Save  the  liijuid.  Mash  the  tamales  with  jjf 
a  fork.  Combine  the  mashed  tamales  with  one  j| 
12-ounce  can  whole-kernel  corn  or  1  package  \t 
frozen  cut  corn,  cooked  and  drained.  Mix  well.  it. 
Break  up  1  pound  hamburger  and  brown  in  a  |i 
hot  skillet  and  add  2  small  onions,  chopped.  Cook  1 
a  few  minutes  more,  stirring  frequently.  Add  1^ 
one  6-ounce  can  tomato  paste  and  %  cup  of  the  'I' 
liquid  drained  from  the  tamales.  Season  with 
a  little  salt  and  pepper -to  taste.  In  a  greased  ; 
casserole,   arrange  layers  of  the  tamale-corn  | 
mixture  and  the  hamburger-tomato  mixture, 
alternating  until  all  ingredients  are  used,  j 
Sprinkle  with  2  tablespoons  grated  Par-  ; 
mesan  or  Romano  cheese.  Bake  '  2  hour  ' 
in  a  moderate  oven,  350°  F.  Serves  6. 


Spa  1 1  i  s/i  Co  ssero  I e 
Rniv-l  cgcUihle  Rclis/i  lioni — Cheese  Bread 
Peaches  it  ilh  Bniivii  Siiirar  aiul  Sour  Cream 


SPANISH  casserole:  Saut.'  I'li  pounds  smoked 
ham,  cubed,  with  1  cup  chopped  onions  in  1 
tablespoon  salad  oil.  Add  two  8-ounce  cans 
tomato  sauce  and  'i2  cup  water.  Simmer  until 
well  heated.  Mix  with  3  cups  drained,  cooked 
rice;  season  with  '2  teaspoon  salt,  pepper  to  taste. 
Chop  10  pilled  ripe  olives.  Chop  2  shelled  hard- 
cooked  eggs;  combine  with  1  cup  cooked  or 
canned  peas.  Fold  into  rice  mixture.  Bake  30 
minutes  in  a  moderate  oven,  350°  F.  Serves  6. 
Cheese  Bread:  Cut  crusts  from  top  and  sides  of 
two  1-pound  unsliced  loaves  of  bread.  Slice  down 
to  but  not  through  bottom  crust.  Cream  H  cup 
butter  or  margarine  with  10  ounces 
soft  Cheddar-cheese  spread. 
Spread  top,  sides,  and 
between  slices.  Tie 
loaves  together  with 
string.  Bake  in 
moderate  oven, 
350°  F.,for  about 
20  minutes. 


niiw  'miiin  IMS 


.  llial's  how  to  cook!     i;v  (.iw 


-iioiri 


Hamburger  Laaf 
Carlie  Bread  —  Raw  Spinach  Sahid 
Meringues  Filled  n  ilh  Friiil 


ROBEKT  has  been  a  strong  influence  on  my 
enjoyment  of  cooking.  Each  dish  he  makes 
is  imaginatively  seasoned  and  served  witli  at- 
tractiveness and  justifiable  pride.  Bob  and  I 
enjoy  cooking  together  and  sampling  eacii 
other's  gastronomical  feats.  Though  we  some- 
times get  so  involved  in  adding  spices  and  mix- 
ing salad  dressings  that  we  forget  to  set  the 
table  and  have  to  run  around  at  the  last  min- 
ute, trampling  each  other  in  our  frenzy  to  eat 
before  things  get  cold. 

Here  is  a  complete  "original"  of  Bob's,  in- 
vented one  evening  while  we  were  making  din- 
ner together.  Hamburger  Loaf.  Season  Vi 
pounds  hamburger  with  P2  teaspoons  salt 
and  's  teaspoon  pepper.  Divide  the  ham- 
burger into  two  portions.  Flatten  each 
out  on  wax  paper,  shaping  into  two 
rectangular  pieces  about  J  2"  thick. 
Lay  about  }4  pound  sliced  Cheddar 
cheese  on  one  of  the  portions. 
Sprinkle  with  2  tablespoons 
chopped  green  onions  or  scal- 
lions,  2  tablespoons  catchup  and 
H  teaspoon  oregano.  Sprin 
kle  lightly  with 

salt  and  pepper^ 

Turn  the  other  piece 
of    hamburger  over 
onto   the  seasoned 
layer  with  the  help  of 
the  wax  paper.  Press 
edges  of  beef  together 
with  a  fork.  Lift  onto 
the  broiler  pan  with 


Iwu  w  iilc  spatulas.  Uroil  alioul  >  ininiile^  on  each 
side.  I^y  ba(  <»n  strips  f)ii  lof)  of  beef  af  l«T  turn- 
ing. .Serves  (>. 

lirtsemary  .Sherman,  a  friend  of  ours  nearby, 
loves  logive  late  supper  parlies  (or  a  hif;  crowd. 
When  I'm  making  liors  d'oeuvres,"  she  says, 
I  iillrn  make  things  thai  I  myself  have  never 
lasted  belore.  Here  s  otie  of  our  ravf)riles:  A  '-an 
of  minced  clams,  2  packages  cream  cheese, 
mixed  and  softened  to  a  paste  with  some 
of  the  juice  from  the  clams.  Add  lots 
of  onioti  juice,  1'2  tables[)oons  chopped 
chives,  1  teaspoon  paprika,  a  dash  of 
Worcestershire,  a  dash  of  Pabasco;  serve 
with  Melba  toast  or  potato  chips."  Her  main 
lish  is  ser\f(f  in  a  ehafin"  dish. 


Uurs  d  Oeuvres:  Clam  Spread 
Cheese- Mushroom  Rarebit 

Toasted  French  Bread 
Avocado-Grapefruit  Salad 
Angel-Fnod  Cake  nilh  Stranberr\'  Sauce 


CHEESE-MUSHROOM  RAREBIT:  For  10-12,  make 
2  quarts  medium  cream  sauce.  Saute  1 
pound  mushrooms,  sliced,  and  2  medium  onions, 
chopped,  in  14  cup  butter  or  margarine.  Add  to 
the  hot  cream  sauce  with  1  pound  sharp  Cheddar 
cheese,  coarsely  grated  or  cut  into  small  pieces. 
Season  with  M  teaspoon  dry  mustard  blended 
with  2  teaspoons  Worcestershire  sauce,  3  tea- 


144  L    A    D     I     R     S  •        MOM     K        T    <  )    1 1     K     N    A    L  ./anwarv,  iy.S.i 


71' 


NO  TRICK  •  •  • 


I 


Jot  down  what  you  pay  for  any 
leading  packaged  washday  product. 
Then  divide  this  cost  in  half. 

That's  what  you  save  .  .  yes,  save 
. .  when  you  buy  Fels-Naptha  Soap. 
It  costs  you  only  half  as  much. 

And  remember  this !  Fels-Naptha 
— and  only  Fels-Naptha — gives  you 
the  donhle  washing  action  of  mild, 
golden  soap  and  gentle  naptha,  phis 


a  marvelous  "sunshiue"  ingredient 
that  banishes  "Tattle-Tale"  gray. 

No  other  soap  .  .  no  detergent  .  . 
offers  you  so  much  help  in  getting 
your  clothes  beautifully  and  fra- 
grantly clean,  .your  dishes  sparkling. 

Buy  Fels-Naptha  and  use  it  for 
everything.  See  what  you  save.  Then 
enjoy  its  extra  help  .  .  its  gentleness  . . 
its  kindness  to  ynnr  hands. 


spoons  salt  and  ]/%  teaspoon  pepper.  Taste 
and  add  more  salt  and  pepper  if  desired.  Cook 
directly  over  low  heat  or  in  the  top  of  a 
double  boiler  or  a  chafing  dish  just  until 
the  cheese  melts.  Serve  with  toasted  French 
bread. 

As  for  dessert,  I  like  to  use  one  of  the  really 
good  new  angel-food  mixes  for  the  cake. 
Strawberry  sauce  is  a  package  of  frozen 
sliced  strawberries,  thawed,  and  poured  over 
the  cake. 


Chicken  Casserole 
Peas  with  Mushrooms  and  Pimiento 
Cheese-Scalloped  Potatoes 
Vanilla  Ice  Cream 
tvilh  Hot  Spiced  Applesauce 


Chicken  Casserole.  Have  a  3-to-3i  2-pound 
(ready-to-cook  weight )  chicken  cut  up  for 
frying.  Put  3  tablespoons  flour,  ''.t  teaspoon 
salt  and  a  generous  dash  of  pepper  in  a  paper 
sack.  Shake  the  chicken  in  the  seasoned  flour, 
a  piece  at  a  time.  Fry  until  nicely  browned  in 
li  cup  shortening  or  salad  oil,  well  heated. 
For  a  nice  even  golden  brown,  fry  only  a  few 
pieces  at  a  lime,  turning  frequently.  Drain 
the  chicken  on  paper  towels  and  arrange  in  a 
casserole.  Sprinkle  lightly  with  '  2  teaspoon 
rosemary,  crushed,  and  dot  with  butter  or 
margarine— and,  if  you  like  the  flavor, 
sprinkle  a  few  tablespoons  of  sauterne  over 
the  chicken.  Bake  in  a  slow  oven,  ,300"  F., 
for  about  an  hour  until  the  chicken  is  tender. 
Serves  4. 

Peas  with  Mushrooms  and  Pimiento.  Cook 
1  package  frozen  peas  according  to  directions 
on  the  package.  Meanwhile,  slice  and  saute 
pound  mushrooms  in  a  little  butter  or 
margarine.  Cover  and  simmer  for  about  5 
minutes.  Add  the  sauteed  mushrooms  to  the 
drained  peas  along  with  a  few  strips  of 
pimiento,  chopped.  Season  with  salt  and 
pepper.  Serves  4. 

Cheese-Scalloped  Potatoes.  Peel  and  slice 
thin  4  medium  potatoes.  Blend  1  can  con- 
densed cream-of-celery  soup  with  '  2  cup 
milk.  Heat  but  do  not  boil.  Slice  thin  1 


her  escort's  six-foot-two  Iowa-cornstalk 
lankiness  in  no  way  conformed  to  her 
Californian  ideal:  a  suave  dark  sophisticate 
who  never  fussed  about  vulgar  things  like 
money.  "Who  wants  to  be  tied  down  and 
mortgaged  for  life?"  Lieutenant  Short  asked 
doggedly.  Who  indeed?  They  were  married 
three  months  later.  Recently,  Gina  Short 
dug  up  their  wedding  pictures  to  show  a  vis- 
itor, and  said,  "Oh,  those  fresh  little  unlined 
faces!  What  a  lot  we  had  to  learn." 

Chunks  of  the  learning  have  been  crammed, 
hammered  and  blistered  into  the  past  two 
years,  since  Bob  and  Gina  Short  bought  the 
$9300  house  with  two  irresistible  features: 
"only  fifty  dollars  down  payment,  and  a 
two-car  garage  we  could  convert  someday 
into  a  room  opening  off  the  patio — or  the 
barren  earth  we  saw  as  a  patio." 

The  paint  on  the  yellow  door  was  barely 
dry  when  they  moved  into  one  of  the  300 
ranch-type  bungalows,  all  so  nearly  identical 
Gina  says,  "  I  could  go  into  any  one  of  them 
and  find  the  bathroom  in  the  dark."  Con- 
cord, in  the  warm -tempered  valley  that 


peeled,  medium  onion,  separating  into  rings, 
and  grate  enough  sharp  Cheddar  cheese  to 
make  '  2  cup.  In  a  greased  1-quart  casserole, 
arrange  alternate  layers  of  potatoes,  onion 
rings  and  grated  cheese  and  celery  soup. 
Sprinkle  each  layer  of  vegetables  with  salt 
and  pepper  and  very  lightly  with  flour,  using 
1  teaspoon  salt  and  2  tablespoons  flour  in  all. 
Dot  with  butter  or  margarine  and  bake  30 
minutes  at  350°  F.  and  one  hour  longer  at 
300°  F.  Serves  4. 


Fillet-of-Sole  Casserole 
Cooked-String-Bean  Salad — 
French  Dressing  with  Bacon  Crumbles 
Quick  Lemon-Meringue  Pie 


Fillet-of-Sole  Casserole.  Wash  4  fillets  of  " 
sole  or  haddock  (about  P4  pounds).  Lay  ' 
in  shallow  casserole  or  baking  pan.  Brush  ' 
with  1  tablespoon  melted  butter ormargarine. 
Sprinkle  with  1  i  teaspoon  salt  and  a  little  • 
pepper.  Arrange  6  cooked   and   cleaned  ' 
shrimp  (you'll  need  about  1  pound  raw)  ] 
on  each  fillet.  Sprinkle  with  1  teaspoon  i 
chopped  chives,  a  pinch  of  thyme  and  mar- 
joram. Sprinkle  the  shrimp  and  fillets  with  ' 
2  teaspoons  canned,  frozen  or  fresh  lemon  . 
juice.  Blend  2  tablespoons  melted  butter  or 
margarine  into  '  2  cup  thick  commercial  ' 
sour  cream.  Spoon  the  sour  cream  over  ' 
shrimp  and  fillets.  Cover  and  bake  in  a 
moderate  oven,  350°  F.,  about  20  minutes.  [ 
Serves  4.  ■ 

Quick  Lemon-Meringue  Pie.  Crush  18  I 
graham  crackers  on  a  wooden  board  with  ! 
a  rolling  pin.  Put  the  crushed  crackers  in  a  J 
bowl  and  stir  in  }i  cup  sugar  and  14  cup  ' 
melted  butter  or  margarine.  Mix  well  with  a  , 
fork.  Press  into  an  8"  piepan.  Pat  it  evenly 
over  the  bottom  and  up  the  sides  with  your  ] 
fingers.  Bake  in  a  moderate  oven,  350°  F.,  ' 
for  10  minutes.  Meanwhile  prepare  1  pack-  "j 
age  lemon-pie  filling  according  to  the  di-  i 
rections  on  the  package.  Pour  into  the  ] 
crumb  crust.  Top  with  a  meringue  made  with  j 
2  egg  whites,  4  tablespoons  sugar  and  a  ] 
pinch  of  salt.  Bake  in  a  moderate  oven.  1 
350°  F.,  for  15  minutes.  Cool  before  cutting. 
Serves  4. 


boasts  record  crops  of  walnuts,  pears  and  1 
new  houses,  has  swelled  from  a  town  of  1600 
to  12,000  in  ten  years.  The  sign  that  greets  1 
you  on  the  outskirts  boasts:  Concord —  ^ 
Where  Industry  Comes  Home.  Like  Bob,  I 
many  of  the  Shorts'  neighbors  work  in  the 
booming  industrial  center  of  Pittsburg,  four-  \ 
teen  miles  away.  His  salary  as  a  steel-mill 
foreman,  $5600,  and  his  age,  thirty-two,  are  J 
par  for  their  neighborhood,  which  seems  to  1 
have  its  own  motto  of  Where  Industry  | 
Comes  Home  and  Gets  Busy.  In  the 
Shorts'  mirage-come-true  patio,  where  a  rosy  j 
bricked  terrace,  five  pampered  little  pear  ! 
trees  and  a  silken  green  lawn  now  bask  in  j 
the  sun  behind  a  high  redwood  fence,  Gina  i 
said,  "Bob's  worked  like  a  coolie.  And  I'm  I' 
his  Number  One  Boy."  ' 

Mr.  Short's  Number  One  Boy,  who  is  a 
nicely  curved  130-pound  five-feet-six,  with  a  | 
candor  as  fresh  as  her  coloring,  added, 
"When  we  were  building  the  carport  to-  j 
gether  last  summer,  I  kept  asking  him  what  1 
he'd  have  done  if  he'd  married  a  dainty,  j 
fragile  type."  ! 


HUW  YO|TX<;  AMERICA  LIVES 

(Continued  from  Page  134) 


I)  I  I 


M  I 


J     It  I 


Botliol  iluiii  s:iy  llicliardt'sl  llunu  they've 
lad  to  learn  iii  Inan  ia^^e  is  lor  Hob  lo  be  less 
IfuHily  neat  and  critical,"  and  for  Gina 
ot  to  be  so  "casual  and  sloppy."  Ijob,  who 
noks  likr  a  younn  I,indbiT£h.  said,  "I  waa 
1  ven  alruid  to  have  (lina  sit  on  niy  lai),  for 
lu-ar  she'd  spoil  the  crease  in  my  Ironsers." 
Looking  at  his  bioomingly  pretty  wife,  you 
i:n(lersland  why  he  overcame  llial  i)hoi>ia.) 
The  lirsl  plai-e  we  lived  was  a  Quonscl 
ml,"  Crina  >dvi\.  "and*  I  fell  foi-  the  i)ride 
online  so  hard  I  evon  waxed  the  floors  every 
norninp,,  but  Bob  would  come  home  and 
lavewhal  lie  called  While  CHove  Inspection. 
Ic'd  lintl  din  in  some  obscure  corner,  and 
I'll  admit  I  was  horrible  about  not  lianninK 
ip  m\'  dollies,  but  when  he  criticized  me, 
ifler  I'd  tried  so  hard,  I'd  ^el  sullen  and  yo 
irouncl  lookin^i  wounded."  When  she  added, 
"1  tliink  we've  gradually  laken  on  each 
)lher's    better    qualities,"    her  husband 
urinned  and  said,  "At  least  that's  the  beauli- 
fiil  theory." 

"Well,  I'm  a  much  more  meticulous  house- 
keeper," his  wife  remarked.  "And  Bob's  so 
relaxed  he  even  goes  around  here  in  dis- 
I  nilable  sneakers." 

At  this  point,  you're  sitting  in  the  attrac- 
tive, California-casual  living  room,  peering 
I'l^ough  llie  open  doorway  at  the  kitchen 
raiiRe.  It  gleams  immaculately,  and  on  the 
center  warming  grill  a  Siamese  cat  dozes  con- 
lenledly.  symbol  of  the  neat  comi^romise 
achieved  in  Short  order.  The  cat's  owner, 
iivc-year-old  Robert  Kenneth,  alias  Rhu- 
barb, (lashes  in  to  snag  crackers  for  himself 
and  a  lew  congenial  gunmen,  and  to  brief  the 
vir.ilor  on  his  pel :  "Ching-Yu  hates  milk,  but 
she  likes  peanuts  and  crackers.  And  when  I 
caught  a  dragonlly.  she  ate  it  alive." 

He's  a  handsome,  gravely  blue-eyed  little 
boy,  with  such  good  manners  that  Gina 
says  a  neighbor  complained,  "A  child  that 
age  shouldn't  say  "I  beg  your  pardon.'  It's 
unnatural." 

Bob  says  now,  "When  we  came  here. 
Rhubarb  was  so  meek  and  so  anxious  lo  have 
the  other  kids  like  him  that  he'd  give  away 
all  his  loys.  For  a  while,  we  even  had  to  slop 
his  allowance  (ten  cents  a  week).  He'd  just 
hand  it  over  to  anybody  as  if  he  hoped 
lo  buy  friendship."  Gina  explained,  "Bob 
and  I  were  swamped,  what  with  our  jobs  and 
our  house  fixing,  but  we  finally  realized  Rhu- 
barb was  pathetically  eager  for  attention." 
She's  convinced  he  developed  "a  sense  of  in- 
security and  inferiority  "  because  he  was  left 
with  a  variety  of  baby-sitters  during  the 
three  years  she  worked,  and  she  gave"  up  her 
$250-a-month  job  ("routine  lab  analysis  at 
Dow  Chemical")  so  that  she  could  concen- 
trate on  helping  Rhubarb  "adjust  and  feel 
more  stable"  before  he  started  to  school. 

As  a  full-time  mother,  she  took  him  for 
picnic  lunches  at  a  nearby  creek,  shared 
fingiT  painting,  helped  him  find  pictures  of 
"bombers,  bumblebees  and  boats,"  in  maga- 
zines to  thumbtack  on  a  huge  Celotex  board 
on  his  bedroom  wall.  "And  now  we  have  un- 
skimped  reading  sessions,  and  a  good  long 
hour  at  bedtime.  My  conscience  always  hurt 
when  I  picked  out  the  shortest  story  in  a 
book,  to  read  him."  Rhubarb's  passion  is 
W  innie  the  Pooh,  but  Gma.  determined  to 
Kive  him  "a  good  grounding  in  literature," 
has  been  whetting  his  intellect  with  Paul 
Bunyan  and  tales  of  the  Valkyries,  from  the 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica  Junior.  "But 
when  Bob  and  I  took  him  to  the  San  Fran- 
cisco art  museum,  feeling  very  cultural,  the 
elevator  operator  there  was  reading  a  comic 
book.  Rhubarb's  eyes  bulged  with  surprise, 
because  he's  not  allowed  to  read  any  comics 
except  Pogo." 

Rhubarb  thrived  on  attention  and  cul- 
ture, "and  now  he's  so  sure  of  himself  that  he 
plays  out  all  day.  and  if  the  children  bash 
him,  he  bashes  back.  We  just  had  to  encour- 
J'e  a  little  aggressiveness."  Rhubarb  started 

>idergarten  last  fall,  but  the  schools  are 
k^"d  he  goes  one  of  four  shifts:  a  bus 
up  at  10:50,  brings  him  back  two 
^Br.  Gina  says  that  even  though  they 
salary,  the  change  in  Rhubarb 
feel  more  than  repaid." 
— [         ^-^  suddenly,  "Gina's  changed  for 
..  too.  since  she  gave  up  her  job.  I 


renumber  once  when  she  snarled  at  nie,  'i'ln 
hapi)y  all  day  at  work,  and  then  i  come  home 
and  you  slart  criticizing  and  I  get  mad  right 
away.'" 

After  one  startled  look  at  her  husbanfl, 
Gina  whooped  with  laughter.  ".Jusl  when  I 
was  going  to  paint  such  a  dreamy  picture  of  a 
devoted  couple  sharing  the  joys  of  earning 
for  their  new  home  and  then  he  tears  it 
wide  open!"  Later  she  said,  "This  i)asl  year 
has  been  smoother,  and  somehow  we're 
much  closer,  as  if  now  the  ihree  of  us  are 
really  a  family.  Hut  we  don't  believe  in  that 
constant -wedded-bliss  stuff.  There  are  limes 
when  I'd  like  to  trade  lioh  in  for  a  nice 
cocker  spaniel,  and  I'm  sure  he  feels  the  same 
about  me.  Hut  we've  found  that  live  min- 
utes of  hot  words  often  clears  the  air,  and 
then  we  talk  things  out,  and  afterward  it's  so 
much  better." 

They  think  most  of  their  llare-ups  are  be- 
cause of  money.  "  Not  over  the  way  we  sjiend 
it,"  Gina  explained.  "With  both  of  us,  the 
house  comes  ahead  of  clothes  or  luxuries. 
Neither  of  us  has  had  a  new  outfit  in  ages." 
They  have  a  joint  checking  account,  and  no 
budget,  but  Gina  keeps  a  complete  record 
of  spending.  (Looking  this  over,  a  visitor  is 
fascinated  by  a  recurrent  entry:  Grief, 
$7.72  .  .  .  Grief,  .$9.00.  "  It's  the  name  of  a  lo- 
cal store,"  Gina  said,  "and  I  finally  learned 
the  right  spelling  is  Greif,  but  Grief  expresses 
so  much  more,  when  we  sit  down  to  go  over 
the  bills.") 

Monthly  payments  on  the  house,  with 
carrying  charges,  are  $58..')0,  plus  about  $26 
for  utilities  and  phone.  Food  averages  al- 
most $25  a  week  "with  cigarettes  for  both 
of  us."  Supermarkets  have  mushroomed 
up,  and  compete  so  fiercely  that  steak 
is  usually  79  cents  a  pound.  "They  litter 
our  lawns  with  lists  of  colossal  week-end 
specials,"  Gina  said.  "And  I  compare  them 
all,  and  head  for  the  biggest  bargains." 

Hospitalization  and  insurance,  $119  a 
year,  are  deducied  from  Bob's  pay.  (ias  and 
upkeep  for  the  secondhand  1941  Ford  station 
wagon  are  $.'50  a  month;  Bob  does  repairs 
himself.  "And  our  recreation  fund  goes 
mostly  for  lumber,"  he  said.  "Thirty  dollars 
a  month  at  the  very  least."  (The  fence,  for 
instance,  cost  them  $125.)  "And  it  is  our 
recreation.  But  when  we  get  carried  away  and 
spend  loo  much  all  at  a  whack,  then  Gina 
and  I  both  gel  worried  and  edgy.  Some  silly 
little  thing  can  start  an  argument,  and  bang, 
we're  off." 

Bob  is  always  the  first  to  make  peace  over- 
tures. Gina  said,  "I  just  seem  psychologi- 
cally incapable  of  apologizing."  Bob  ex- 
plained tolerantly,  "She  comes  from  a  long 
line  of  always-in-the-righters."  To  help 
overcome  this,  he  has  learned  to  ask  leading 
(and  loaded)  questions,  such  as,  "Aren't  you 
sorry  you  were  so  nasty  today,  dear?" 

"And  of  course  then  I  usually  laugh  and 
say  yes,"  Gina  said.  "Or  if  I  say  no,  he 
keeps  acting  nice  till  he's  aroused  my  better 
nature." 

When  the  ciuestion  "Do  you  have  any 
trouble  with  in-laws?"  came  up,  Gina  said, 
"Oh,  no!"  Bob  laughed.  "Notice  how  fast 
she  answers  that.  Because  it's  her  family 
that  lives  thirty  miles  away,  and  mine  are 
clear  off  in  Iowa."  He  added  repentantly, 
"Her  family's  really  swell."  He  turned  to  his 
wife.  "  Did  you  tell  about  the  birthday  cake 
I  baked  for  your  mother  the  day  Rhubarb 
was  born?" 

"The  most  wonderful  cake,"  Gina  said 
fondly.  "I  was  already  in  the  hospital,  and 
after  Bob  got  home  he  remembered  it  was 
mother's  birthday  and  we  didn't  have  a  pres- 
ent." 

"So  I  whipped  up  a  twelve-egg  deal  with 
frosting  this  thick,"  her  husband  said,  mod- 
estly holding  his  thumb  and  forefinger  sev- 
eral inches  apart. 

"Bob's  turned  out  to  be  a  divine  cook," 
Gina  crooned.  "Lots  of  hot  seasoning,  and 
things  like  shish-kebab.  But  when  we  were 
first  married,  he  kept  moaning  about  'the 
codfish  gravy  mother  used  to  make.'  It 
sounded  revolting.  And  he  wouldn't  even 
touch  normal  sea  food  like  lobster  and  bass. 
Now  we  take  Rhubarb  to  Fisherman's 
Wharf,  and  Bob  laps  up  the  stuff." 


■'Oh,  well."  her  huHband  naid  di  h  iisivrly, 
as  if  he'd  b»en  accustd  of  ^;oln^;  hofi  Then 
hiH  face  brightened,  "Hut  llie  time  we  vimied 
my  family  in  Iowa,  (iina  ale  axil'wh 
gravy." 

"Anrl  I  adored  it."  Ciiria  hhkI.  Talking 
later  alioul  their  backuroundn  and  brinKinit 
up,  she  remarked.  "They  couldn't  have  b<rcn 
more  different." 

Gina's  father,  a  comintTcia!  arti»l. 
worked  in  a  studio  at  home,  on  the  eleven- 
acre  walnut  ranch  in  Hrentwoofl,  California 
Her  mother  was.  and  still  is,  assistant  ixml- 
mistres.s.  "  We  were  caKually  broke'  and  ter- 
ribly hap|)y."  She  says  that  the  firsl  lime  she 
t(K)k  Hob  lo  meet  her  parents  and  three 
younger  brothers,  "I  think  he  was  horrified 
by  the  rugged  sarcasm  that's  our  way  of 
showing  affection."  In  HrcnlwrxxJ  High 
Sch(K)l,  Gina  liked  art  classes  best,  but  after 
graduating  with  a  H-i)lus  average,  she  de- 
cided family  finances  didn't  warrant  college 


Ihe  Self  Militant 

Itf  .Itmn  Slitrii  W  ritihl 

Peace  is  be  still  because  it  is  too 
late; 

The  deathbed  whisper  or  the  old 

man's  prayer. 
Seekers  for  comfort  know  it.  It  is 

there 

Where  sell-outs  to  concession 

arbitrate. 
Peace  is  reward  of  compromise;  is 

where 

Believing  begs  the  question,  acts 
debate 

And  never  will  be  acted.  Peace  is 
fate 

And  quiet  abdication  of  the  dare. 

Hundreds  have  died  in  peace  and 

have  not  guessed 
That  they  were  dead.  Others  have 

called  its  name 
"Azure,"  "Nirvana" — seeking  to 

arrive 

At  its  heart's  heart.  To  all  these  I 
protest 

I  shall  seek  conflict  still  to  be  alive 
And  beautifully  put  the  gods  to 
shame. 


or  nonpaying  art.  She  got  a  clerical  job  with 
the  FBI  in  San  Francisco  at  $140  a  month 
("and  no  Mata  Hari  assignments")  and 
shared  an  apartment  with  two  other  girls. 
"My  father  had  been  surprisingly  strict 
about  my  dating,  and  once  I  was  on  my  own, 
I  really  tore  around.  I'd  never  want  to  be  a 
butterfly  again,  but  I'm  glad  I  .got  it  out  of 
my  system." 

The  confirmed  bachelor  who  was  to  meet 
up  with  the  butterfly  had  himself  laken  wing 
in  Spencer,  Iowa:  "I  was  always  nuts 
about  planes,  and  I  earned  money  for  my 
first  ride— in  a  helicopter— by  selling  sub- 
scriptions to  the  Des  Moines  Register." 
Bob's  father,  an  electrician,  and  his  mother 
were  divorced  when  Bob  was  three.  He  lived 
with  his  father  and  stepmother,  and  has  one 
half  sister,  one  half  brother,  one  stepbrother. 
In  high  school,  Bob  "barely  kept  a  B  aver- 
age," because  he  went  out  for  track  and 
baseball,  and  took  flying  lessons  with  money 
earned  as  relief  doorman  at  the  movie  the- 
ater. After  graduating,  he  went  lo  San  Fran- 
cisco "because  my  sister  was  going,  I  guess," 
and  worked  first  as  a  porter,  then  $100-a- 
month  floor  man  in  a  department  store,  be- 
fore heading  east  to  Williams  College.  At  the 
end  of  his  freshman  year,  he  enlisted  in  the 
Coast  Guard,  then  entered  the  Navy  in  1942, 
and  became  a  pilot,  ferrying  wounded  from 
the  Pacific  area.  He  was  based  on  Guam,  and 


v..r.  iK       ii  I.I-,  |i,i  ey^  In  HiOfc  way* 

than  one. 

Anked  now  " "  lo 

your  wife?"  \it,\  ,i\ 
hut  in-lawH' ruKK''' '  vnih 
dead-pan  relitih.  "W  .nr.  hcf 

athletic  bii  '  r >n  au- 

l)erer  reflr.  „,(  \  Ym. 

I'.."  al 
I- 

a  U-rriblc  print  dr<  .  x- 

claimed  del  I  "  .-d 
you'd  rem'  ;  it 

was  a  tern)),'    .        i  :,.  , 
clothe^i  ly|)e,  but  tlim  print  .■.y." 
She  herself  was  'I  yi  lo  caiuc 

"Hob  wasn't  a  .ind  wht-n  we 

went  lo  a  ChiH'  ,ini,  all  he'd  eat 

was  a  cheese  s;i  i',  ii  |  mxm  di>*cov- 

ered  he  had  a  cl  .  >     ,     ,  ,,'1  '.f 

liurnor,  and  tin  : 

alxjut  his  quietii'  ... . , 

so  calmly  nalural  logeih<T."  H«h  never  pro 
|K)s<d  formally.  "He'd  say    Well,  when  > 
this  deal  going  to  come  off?'  ai  if  a  wedtJir 
w  ere  a  ba n k  robber y . "  ' "'l 

t-  of 

XiiK  deal  came  off  on  I.)eccmber  20,  IB-J.'^  *'''' 
the  day  after  IVjb  and  (iina  sliopped  for  *" 
rose-gold  wedding  band*.  They  drove  to 
Reno  lo  be  married  fK-cause  (>ina'(  b* -.i  ' 
friend  was  living  there.  "  But  wc  hadn't  bt-en 
sure  when  I3ob  would  get  a  leave,  so  my 
friend  and  her  husband  had  gone  skiing,  and 
there  we  were  alone  in  Reno,  of  all  places. 
When  we  went  tor  our  license,  a  couple 
dashed  up  on  a  motorcycle,  wearing  high 
black  boots  and  goggles,  and  stood  in  line 
right  behind  us."  The  bride,  wearing  a  yellow 
wcx)l  suit,  and  the  grfx>m,  in  uniform,  "made 
jokes  and  acted  very  nonchalant,  but  we  tell 
as  if  the  ceremony  weren't  quite  real.  The 
next  Sunday  we  went  to  church  together, 
and  then  we  felt  so  much  nicer,  like  a  set- 
tled husband  and  wife." 

Back  in  San  Francisco  lo  spend  a  hotel 
honeymoon  on  Bob's  leave,  the  bridegroom 
"worried  himself  silly"  over  money.  He  had 
drawn  .$800  from  the  bank  Heaving  $1200  in 
savings)  and  "he  kept  asking  me  if  I  ihoughl 
two  of  us  could  possibly  live  a  whole  month 
on  eight  hundred  dollars."  Both  Shorts  laugh 
wryly,  recalling  such  blissful  worries.  On  the 
last  day  of  his  leave,  ihey  had  $25  left,  and 
ihe  groom  gravely  handed  his  wife  $12.50 
before  returning  to  Guam. 

Gina,  who  had  left  her  job.  lived  with  her 
family  until  September,  1946,  when  Bob  was 
transferred  to  Moffetl  Field,  as  air-lranspor- 
talion  officer.  They  were  settled  in  the  Quon- 
set  hut  when  Rhubarb  was  born  ihe  follow- 
ing summer.  "  Bob  was  a  wonderful  prospec- 
tive father,"  Gina  said.  "When  I  was  preg- 
nant, he'd  humor  even  my  mania  for  chop 
suey.  and  he'd  take  me  to  a  driving  range  lo 
whack  golf  balls  for  wholesome  exercise." 
Things  were  less  idyllic  when  the  new  par- 
ents  first  viewed  their  ofifspring.  in  the  Navy 
hospital.  "We'd  set  our  hearts  on  having  a 
girl,  and  there  was  this  hideous  little  orange 
thing  with  while  spots,  and  moth-eaten 
marabou  for  hair." 

When  next-door  neighbors  came  to  see  the 
baby,  Gina  remembers.  "There  was  an 
ominous  silence,  then  the  man  said,  'Oh, 
well,  he'll  probably  snap  oul  of  it.'  Right 
then.  I  began  lo  feel  fiercely  maternal." 

Having  heard  that  children  should  be  ex- 
posed early  lo  the  finer  things  in  life.  Gina 
said,  "When  he  was  two  weeks  old,  we  put 
him  on  the  floor  right  in  front  of  the  phono- 
graph, like  a  sacrificial  offering,  and  played 
the  Nutcracker  Suite— but  loud.  Rhubarb's 
face  was  an  absolute  blank,  and  were  we  wor- 
ried! But  we'd  have  long  talks  and  say  lo 
each  other,  'No  matter  what  he  turns  out  to 
be,  the  important  thing  is  lo  see  he  feels 
loved.' " 

Their  "leanest  year  "  started  a  few  months 
later  \vhen  Bob,  newly  a  civihan,  sold  real 
estate  on  commission,  in  Redwood  City.  He 
averaged  $300  to  S400  a  month,  and  says 
frankly  he  hated  the  job. 

In  june  of  1948.  he  started  work  on  the 
mill  crew  at  the  Columbia-Geneva  plant,  a 


/■ 


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subsidiary  of  U.  S.  Steel,  employing  around 
5000.  He  was  promoted  to  foreman  the  next 
year,  in  charge  of  a  twenty-man  work  crew 
on  the  pickling  line  (semifinished  steel  is 
dipped  into  tanks  of  a  dilute  acid  solution, 
for  cleaning).  Bob  supervises  this  process, 
and  does  the  paper  work — production  sheets, 
attendance  and  safety  reports — for  his  unit. 
His  father-in-law  is  now  safety  engineer  at 
the  same  mill. 

Bob  works  on  three  eight -hour  shifts,  al- 
ternating each  week.  Gina  said,  "Most  of 
our  friends  lead  the  same  shift  lives,  and  al- 
most the  only  time  I  mind  it  is  when  poor 
Bob's  trying  to  sleep  in  the  daytime  while  a 
dozen  or  so  kids  are  tearing  around  the 
yard."  When  he's  on  the  8  a.m.  to  4  p.m. 
shift,  Gina  gets  up  at  5:30  to  pack  his  lunch 
and  get  breakfast  (orange  juice,  toast,  eggs, 
coffee)  "while  Bob  lolls  in  bed  till  six  a.m." 
Rhubarb  sleeps  till  8.  Gina  finishes  most  of 
her  housework  by  noon,  gets  a  sandwich 
lunch  for  herself,  "but  always  something  hot 
for  Rhubarb."  She  does  the  washing,  includ- 
ing Bob's  khaki  work  clothes,  in  the  Bendix 
in  the  utility  room  off  the  kitchen,  and  saves 
most  of  the  ironing  for  evenings  when  she's 
alone.  She  uses  Rhubarb's  nap  time  for  read- 
ing. "I've  just  discovered  how  much  I  like 
poetry,  and  now  I'm  on  Edna  St.  Vincent 
Millay  and  Stephen  Benet." 

Every  other  week,  she  markets  in  bulk, 
and  stashes  fruit,  meat  and  vegetables  in  the 
small  freezer  compartment,  but  hopes  some- 
day to  get  a  freezer  "mainly  because  I  get  a 
violent  baking  spurt  about  once  a  month, 
and  I'd  like  to  tuck  away  a  whole  mass  of 
dough.  Then  I'd  have  pies  and  cookies  and 
rolls  always  on  hand." 

Bob  often  washes  windows  and  scrubs 
floors,  "and  he's  a  demon  for  the  spit-and- 
polish  jobs  like  rubbing  furniture  for  hours 
with  paraffin  oil."  When  he  works  from  4 
P.M.  to  midnight,  the  Shorts  have  dinner  at 
noon,  "then  I  drink  gallons  of  black  coffee 
while  I  wait  up  for  him."  Thus  fortified. 
Gina  sews  months  ahead  on  Christmas 
presents;  last  year  she  made  terry-cloth  robes 
for  nieces  and  nephews,  and  monogrammed 
place  mats.  She  also  made  sketches  of  her 
husband  and  son,  "and  Bob's  family  seemed 
awfully  pleased  with  them."  Another  of  her 
evening  labors,  a  handsome  abstraction  in  oils, 
hangs  in  the  living  room.  "And  when  Bob  gets 
home  after  midnight,  sometimes  we  sit  up 
talking  till  three  a.m."  The  next  day,  they 
rise  with  Rhubarb  and  have  a  fine  leisurely 
breakfast,  featuring  Chef  Short's  pancakes. 
"Then  if  Bob's  working  around  here  on  a 
project,  I  just  let  the  dishes  and  the  house- 
work go  hang,  and  stick  to  him  like  a  leech." 

Ex-pilot  Bob,  flying  blind,  made  all  the 
furniture  in  Rhubarb's  room,  including  a  bed 
from  an  old  kitchen  door.  One  of  his  next 
projects  is  a  built-in  dressing  table  for  Gina, 
with  a  marble  top,  and  he  also  wants  to  make 
a  potter's  wheel  out  of  a  sewing-machine 
motor, "  so  we  can  both  take  a  crack  at  ceram- 
ics." The  third  bedroom,  which  was  to 
have  been  Bob's  starkly  masculine  den, 
has  somehow  become  a  catchall  for  family 
hobbies,  with  electric  wiring  (for  lamp  mak- 
ing), Gina's  easel,  and  driftwood  of  all  sizes 


and  shapes  which  the  three  Shorts  collect 
avidly  on  a  beach  up  the  Sacramento  River. 
One  beautifully  twisted  piece,  the  length  of  a 
healthy  alligator,  now  adorns  the  patio.  The 
barbecue  grill  beside  it  is  made  out  of  a  plow 
disk  Bob  found  in  a  junk  yard. 

The  Shorts  eat  outdoors  whenever  the 
weather  lives  up  to  its  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce billing,  and  they  collaborate  with 
gusto  on  trying  new  recipes,  indoors  or  out. 
Bob's  favorite  dish  is  still  hamburg,  espe- 
cially with  a  filling  of  Cheddar  cheese,  pep- 
pers, garlic.  Spaghetti  or  a  rice  pilau,  with  a 
green  salad,  serves  six  or  eight  friends,  for 
buffet  suppers. 

Partly  because  Bob's  days  off  frequently 
come  in  the  middle  of  the  week,  the  Shorts 
don't  go  to  church,  but  Gina  takes  Rhu- 


Next  Month 

They  ivouldn't  trade  places  with  any- 
young  marrieds  on  a  big-city  9-to-5 
schedule.  .  .  . 

HANDSOME  newlyweds.  Dot 
and  Roy  Rowland,  of  Vaii- 
iialla,  Tennessee,  rise  at  4  a.m., 
work  sixteen  hours  on  the  farm, 
read  from  their  Bible,  go  to  sleep  a  t 
8  every  night  ...  and  rejoice  in 
converting  their  seventy-six  acres 
and  1866  house  into  a  future  home- 
stead. Meet  two  irrepressible  young 
home-builders  in 

PIONEERS-1953 

By  Betty  Hannah  Hoffman 

now  YOUNG  AMERICA  LIVES 
in  the  February  JOURNAL 


barb  to  the  Lutheran  Sunday  school.  Talk- 
ing about  religion.  Bob  said,  "I  think  people 
feel  most  Christian  when  they  help  some- 
body else."  (Gina  says  that  when  her 
brother  was  tragically  killed  in  flight  train- 
ing two  years  ago,  "Bob  was  so  dear  and 
steadying.") 

As  a  first  step  in  "being  more  civic- 
minded,"  Gina  is  a  Girl  Scout  leader,  meet- 
ing with  fourteen  ten-year-olds  one  afternoon 
a  week,  and  is  Scout  representative  on  the 
executive  board  of  P.T.A.  The  Shorts  went 
to  one  Dad's  Club  dance,  and  report,  "Quite 
a  spirited  brawl.  P.T.A.  has  certainly  livened 
up  since  our  youth." 

Evenings  at  home,  they  "discuss  politics  a 
lot,  for  the  first  time,"  listen  to  radio  thrillers, 
or  put  on  a  stack  of  records — symphonies 
and  hot  jazz — and  sit  in  front  of  the  fire  por- 
ing over  building  and  decorating  pages  in 
magazines.  They've  already  picked  out  the 
spot  for  the  house  they  want  to  build,  "  years 
and  years  from  now,"  in  a  nearby  walnut 
grove. 


January,  i 

"I  used  to  think  I  wanted  to  travel 
over  the  world,"  Bob  said.  "And  my  sec 
ambition  is  still  to  own  a  low-slung  fore  i 
racing  car,  the  kind  that  costs  six  hundrel 
week  just  to  maintain."  He  grinned.  "l|i 
it's  not  very  practical.  And  I  wouldn't  e  ll 
go  on  a  trip  now  without  Rhubarb."  |l 

Last  summer,  the  three  Shorts  borro\ii 
sleeping  bags  and  camped  for  a  week  in  If 
Santa  Cruz  Mountains.  "For  only  fifty  c|j 
lars,"  Gina  said  happily.  "I  woke  up  ik 
night  and  there  were  two  raccoons  stj 
ing  right  into  my  eyes."  Their  next  gt 
with  or  without  raccoons,  is  Yosemite.  i 
the  Sierra  Nevadas,  three  hours'  drive  aw 
Bob  skis  "and  encourages  me  to  think  1 
good,  too,"  Gina  said. 

On  their  outings  into  San  Francisco,  Ii 
and  his  wife  have  a  gala  dinner  before 
theater  (their  two  favorite  restaurants  rij 
now  are  Russian  and  Italian).  "And  we 
to  feeling  so  beautiful,  and  we  tell  each  ot] 
how  much  nicer  we  look  than  anybody  e 
there." 

Dressed  for  an  evening  out,  they  look  Ij 
affluent  young  members  of  the  statif 
wagon  set.  Young  Mr.  Short,  a  wfM-{ 
tweed  type,  takes  a  far  from  passive  inteit 
in  his  wife's  clothes.  "The  first  fight  we  h 
was  on  our  honeymoon,  when  he  refused 
let  me  wear  a  white  cashmere  sweater 
didn't  like."  As  an  old  married  man,  E: 
now  uses  more  devious  methods,  Gina  i 
ports.  "He'll  say  'Are  you  sure  you'll 
comfortable  in  that  dress,  dear?'  And, 
keeps  it  up  till  I  take  the  hint." 

For  her  birthday,  Bob  took  her  into  t 
city  to  hear  Louis  Armstrong.  That,  anc^ 
single  rose  he  once  brought  her,  "are  f 
two  favorite  presents  he's  ever  given  mi. 
Bob  remarked,  "  When  you  tell  peopl#abci 
niy  bringing  flowers,  don't  put  it  so  strong 
in  the  past  tense."  He  added,  in  a  mutt- 
"  I  still  bring  her  flowers — when  I  feel  like 
But  none  of  this  dutiful  special-occasi 
stuff." 

On  anniversaries,  they  stay  home  a] 
uncork  a  bottle  of  champagne  and  a  flow 
do-you-remembers.  "We  go  back  over  f 
way  we  met,"  Gina  said.  "We  probably  s 
the  same  things  most  husbands  and  wi^ 
say,  when  they're  feeling  very  grateful."  i 

HoM  the  Shorts  Spend  Their  Mone 

Food   S1280. 

Payments  on  house   702.. 

Utilities   208. 

Phone   105. 

Clothing   200. 

Furniture   150. 

Heahh   520.^ 

Recreation  (includes  lumber !)  .  .  500. 

Church,  charities   185. 

Magazines,  newspapers,  books  .  .  144. 

Savings   100. 

Cleaner   50.' 

Car,  gas   360.i 

Miscellaneous   200.i 


Total  $4704.( 

*Bob's  take-home  pay  is  approximately  $3l 
a  month — $4680  a  year. 


ONE  MAN.  ONE  BOY  .  .  .  BROTHERS  BY  CHOICE 

(Continued  from  Page  23) 


somewhat  for  the  father  who  is  missing  in  his 
life,"  he" said.  "Of  course  that  can  make  a 
great  difference  in  the  boy's  behavior  and  in 
his  future  life."  He  fixed  a  date  for  a  con- 
ference with  Bobby.  As  the  mother  was  leav- 
ing he  asked  her  who  had  referred  her  to 
the  Big  Brother  Association. 

"My  hairdresser,"  she  replied,  smiling  for 
the  first  time  since  she  entered  the  office. 

The  director  smiled  too.  Most  boys  are 
sent  by  other  social  agencies,  the  courts  or 
probation  officers;  sometimes  the  mothers  of 
little  brothers  send  another  mother,  and  once 
a  druggist  sent  one  of  his  customers;  but  this 
was  the  first  instance  of  a  little  brother's 
coming  from  a  beauty  parlor.  There  are  sev- 
eral active  little  brothers  who  are  "self- 
referred"-— that  is,  they  drifted  into  the  of- 
fices of  the  Big  Brother  Association  at  41  Mt. 


Vernon  Street  and  announced  they  wanted  a 
Big  Brother  because  their  buddy  had  one 
and  it  seemed  to  be  a  good  thing.  If  study 
disclosed  a  real  need— as  in  several  cases  it 
did — a  big  brother  was  assigned. 

In  this  way,  Tom  O'Brien,  supervisor-case 
worker  for  the  Boston  association,  recruited 
Jimmy — or,  rather,  was  recruited  by  Jimmy — 
who  has  since  made  a  habit  of  hanging  around 
the  Big  Brothers  headquarters,  adopting  ev- 
ery man  who  comes  in  as  his  big  brother,  in- 
cluding the  director,  and  the  director's  lovely 
wife,  Jean,  formerly  his  secretary,  for  whom 
twelve-year-old  Jimmy  seems  to  have  even 
more  than  brotherly  affection.  Jimmy,  who 
has  no  mother  or  father— he  has  been  shifted 
from  one  indifferent  relative  to  another 
nearly  all  his  life  and  now  lives  in  a  home  for 
boys— finds  every  excuse  he  can  to  help  Jean 


with  her  housework  now  that  she  is  no  long 
at  the  office. 

Badly  in  need  of  a  haircut  and  thorough) 
unwashed,  Jimmy  walked  into  Tom  O'Brien 
office  a  year  ago  and  put  in  his  order  for  a  b 
brother.  "Don't  give  me  no  bilge  now,"  \ 
warned  him.  "1  need  a  Big  Brother  \i\ 
crazy." 

"Why  do  you  want  a  Big  Brother?  "  Toi 
asked  him. 

"To  buy  me  some  beer.  Them  bartendei 
won't  sell  me  no  beer.  Can  you  beat  it?'" 

Tom,  from  long  practice  as  a  yoi}<'\s  a 
selor,  kept  a  straight  face  and  askewith  a 
why  he  wasn't  in  school.  added, 

"  I'm  smart  enough,"  Jimmy  saort  to- 
"School  is  for  clucks."  n  what 

Testing  proved  the  boy  did  havdainty,- 
137,  a  near-genius  score.  Investigi 


I.  V  I)   I  i: 


II     <)    M  I 


I  I) 


'"family  l)acknr<)uiKl "  produced  ;i  hmn.'in- 
liiiteri'sl  horror  story.  Jimmy  was  assigned  a 
Bin  HrotluT  a  youiin  atloriicy  just  as  intcl- 
ligftit  and  auurossivc  as  he,  but  with  values 
and  comiKission  jimmy  had  never  known. 
Wearinu  ;i  crew  cut  and  Ik)w  lie  like  his  Hin 
Brother's,  .limmy  attends  school  regularly 
now.  As  for  drinking  at  the  a^e  of  thirteen 
he  is  "on  the  wauon  "  and  hasn't  touched  thi' 
■stuff  in  six  months. 

Till':  Bin  Brother  method  of  nuidin^^  boys 
can  i)e  reduced  to  a  simple  formula:  one 
man  one  l)oy.  It  means  applyin^^  the  inllu- 
ence  of  charactiT  and  personality  of  oiu'  man 
(the  BiK  Brotiieri  to  tiie  develoi)ment  of  one 
hoy  (the  little  l)rother).  And  it  is  perhaps  the 
Bin  BrotluT  the  volunti'i'r  who  learns  the 
most  and  realizes  the  greatest  satisl'action  in 
the  relationshii).  Tiie  wives  of  tiu-  Bin;  liroth- 
ers,  as  well  as  the  mothers  of  the  little  broth- 
ers, benefit  too. 

This  pl;ui  for  helpin^j  l:K)ys  dates  from  an 
evening;  in  1901  wiienCol.  l^rnest  K.  Coulter, 
tlien  the  cli'rk  of  tiie  newly  established  New 
York  Childrt'ii's  Court,  addressed  the  men's 
club  of  tiie  Central  Presbyterian  Church  and 
challenged  it  to  stop  studying  civic  better- 
ment and  "do  somelliinn  al:K)ut  it." 

"If  each  man  here  would  take  a  personal 
interest  in  just  one  boy  who  has  come  into 
conflict  with  the  law,  he  would  be  doing 
somelhinf^,"  he  said. 

The  challenne  struck  home.  More  than 
forty  members  of  the  club  that  night  volun- 
teered to  take  a  friendly  interest  in  a  boy 
who  had  "got  off  on  the  wrong  f(X)t."  Slowly, 
a  few  other  communities  organized  Big 
IJrother  groujis  on  the  New  York  pattern;  in 
1917,  thirteen  of  these  groups  alliliated  to 
establish  the  national  organization,  with 
headciuartcrs  in  Philadelphia.  There  are  now 
twenty-one  aHiliated  member  associations, 
three  of  them  in  Canada. 

In  Boston  in  1948  two  men  with  the  idea 
got  together.  They  were  Judge  Frederick 
Iddings  and  the  Rev.  Samuel  Tyler,  assistant 


minister  of  Trinity  Ki)isc()pal  Church.  With 
David  Livingston.  Dunbar  Holmes  anrl  I'hili|) 
Slepian,  director  of  the  Jewish  Big  Brothers 
Ass<K  iation,  active  for  more  than  thirty  years 
in  Boston,  they  formed  a  committee  to  start  a 
nonsectarian,  interfailli  aiul  mierracial 
IJig  Brother  Association.  Judge  David  Kose.a 
member  of  the  lx)ard  of  directors  for  the 
Jewish  Big  Brotliers,  i)resided  at  the  organi- 
zational meeting  and  also  Ix-came  a  memlxT 
of  the  new  lH)ard.  Shortly  after  the  i^roup 
was  incoriXMated,  John  K,  Teger,  a  graduate 
of  the  New  York  Sch(X)l  of  Social  Work  was 
hired  as  executive  director  at  a  salary  of 
$ir)(X)  yearly.  To  start  with,  they  had  a 
$2(KK)  grant  from  the  Benton  Fund  a  trust 
administered  by  the  rector  of 'iVinity  Church 
for  the  supix)rt  of  g(K)d  causes.  The  work  has 
since  been  sustained  by  contributions  and 
special  ^;ifls  collected  in  an  annual  caiiipaiuu 
for  funds.  In  September,  HIHl,  Thomas  K. 
O'Brien  became  the  agency's  (irst  suiwrvisor- 
case  worker.  His  salary  is  ,S:«j(K).  A  secretary 
and  girl-of-all-work,  Vondell  Macey,  com- 
pletes the  paid  professional  staff.  The  annual 
budget  is$M,(KX),  though  the  1952  campaign 
for  funds  aimed  for  an  "ideal  budget"  of 
$21,000. 

It  is,  of  course,  the  volunteers,  working 
under  the  advice  and  supervision  of  Jack 
Teger  and  Tom  O'Brien,  who  make  the  lios- 
ton  association  a  going  concern.  David  Liv- 
ingston was  the  (irst  assigned  Big  Brother, 
followed  almost  immediately  by  nine  other 
men.  From  this  nucleus  of  ten,  the  Big 
Brother  Association  of  Boston  has  grown  to 
more  than  sixty  men  and  seventy  boys. 
Lowell  Trowbridge,  head  of  the  Department 
of  Human  Relations  at  the  Boston  Univer- 
sity College  of  Business  Administration,  is 
one  of  the  founders  and  president  of  the 
association. 

There  are  never  enough  Big  Brothers  to  go 
around  to  all  the  little  brothers  who  need 
them.  Big  Brothers  are  not  accepted  into  the 
organization  indiscriminately.  Each  man  is 
required  to  have  a  jxTsonal  interview  juid  to 


All  yoii  need  to  make  the  eover  is  a  square  yard  of  denim, 

and  I'j  yards  of  sprigged  oalieo  for  the  lining  and 
a  thin  layer  of  eotton  hatting  to  go  in  between  — 

and  Journal  Pattern  No.  2598  to  supply  the  card-trick  motifs 
for  the  corners.  Your  omu  house,  copied  from  a  snapshot 
in  a  comhination  of  applique  and  simple  embroidery  stitching, 
provides  a  charming  personal  touch  in  the  heart  motif  in 
one  of  the  corners.  In  the  sketch  the  heart 

is  enlarged  to  illustrate  tlie  idea. 

Send  10c  to  the  Reference  Library,  Ladies"  Hovie  Jour.n  VL, 

Philadelphia  5,  Pennsylvania,  for  ^o.  2598, 


t 

I' 


K 


submit  three  rcfurenceH.  I'he  lina!  decinion  an 
to  whether  he  iH  (jualilied  rehln  with  the 
membership  committee,  conHisiing  of  a  [wy- 
clu^iogiHt,  a  iwychiatriHl  and  ihn-e  other  Big 
Brothers,  liadly  as  Bu;  Brrdhers  are  ni-<  ded, 
some  men.  if  they  apixar  to  have  sixtiai 
problems  of  their  own,  are  rejecti-d.  'Hie  |)er- 
sonality  i>{  the  man,  when  he  is  acci  pted,  is 
carefully  matched  with  the  needs  and  inter- 
ests of  the  lx>y.  whom  he  agrees  to  s»-e  on  the 
average  of  ont  e  a  week  Alxtut  once  a  iiumtli 
he  has  an  individual  conference  with  the  di- 
rector or  case  worker  alxHil  his  young  friend, 
and  four  limes  a  year  the  Big  Brothers  have 
discussion  meetings,  where  they  are  able  to 
learn  from  one  another  and  from  their  pro- 
fessional advis<rs  somi-lhing  alxjui  the  dy- 
namics of  ixrsonality  growth  and  human 
relationships. 

"It  is  amazing."  Tom  O'Brien  remarked, 
"how  often  these  men  do  just  the  right  \\\\nv. 
at  the  right  time  solving  almost  by  instinct 
problems  with  their  lx)ys  that  iirofessional 
workers  learn  to  handle  only  after  years  of 
study  and  exjx-rience." 

And  there  are  problems  -  plenty  of  Ihem. 
Boys  like  Jimmy  love  to  lest  their  Big  Broth- 
ers, not  only  by  asking  them  to  buy  alcoholic 
beverages  for  them,  but  in  more  overt  ways, 
such  as  delib<Tately  breaking  Big  Brother's 
prized  and  exjx'nsive  fishing  nxl  and  "what 
yuh  goin'  to  do  atx>ut  it,  huh?"  Sf)me  little 
brothers  will  steal  from  their  friends  one 
boy,  now  in  military  service,  is  remorsefully 
paying  back,  ten  dollars  at  a  time,  a  large 
sum  of  money  which  he  stole  from  his  Big 
Brother's  dresser  drawer.  The  first  question 
one  sixteen-year-old  little  brother  asked  the 
Brother  assigned  to  him  was.  "Should  I  have 
sexual  intercourse  with  my  girl?  She's  will- 
ing!" 

A  Big  Brother  is  urged  to  act  naturally, 
even  (irmly  if  the  situation  calls  for  it, 
but  he  is  also  instructed  to  use  all  the  pa- 
tience and  understanding  he  can  and  tele- 
phone the  association  for  advice  at  any  time. 
In  many  a  crisis,  it  is  the  Big  Brother's  wife 
who  comes  through  with  a  solution;  and  it  is 
she,  too,  who  must  make  the  little  brother 
feel  welcome  in  their  home.  She  must  believe 
it  is  worth  while  for  her  husband  to  spend 
time  away  from  his  own  family  to  help  an- 
other. About  half  the  Big  Brothers  of  Boston 
have  children  of  their  own ;  some  are  married 
and  childless;  a  few  are  single  men. 

Through  their  work  with  the  association 
the  men  gain  new  insights  into  the  role  of 
fatherhood.  Judge  David  Rose,  for  example, 
was  recently  lauded  in  the  press  for  the  firm 
yet  cfjmpassionate  way  he  treated  four  young 
vandals  who  had  so  thoroughly  damaged  a 
school  building  it  had  to  be  closed  a  week  for 
repairs.  (Having  no  previous  records,  the 
boys  were  privately  and  thoroughly  repri- 
manded by  Judge  Rose,  placed  on  probation 
for  (ive  years  and  ordered  to  pay  for  the 
damage  with  money  they  themselves  must 
earn.)  Arriving  home  on  the  day  of  his  news- 
paper accolade.  Judge  Rose  was  met  at  the 
door  by  his  wife.  "Will  the  expert  in  manag- 
ing boys  kindly  take  charge  of  his  own  son?  " 
she  said.  "I  can't  do  a  thing  with  him!" 

Big  brothers  who  are  themselves  fathers 
admit  it  is  often  harder  for  them  to  deal  with 
their  own  children  than  with  their  adopted 
little  brothers,  who  may  have  police  records, 
but  they  learn  to  be  better  fathers  in  the 
process.  Last  winter  one  Big  Brother  who 
was  thoroughly  enjoying  sliding  down  a 
snow-packed  hill  with  his  unrelated  pal  ex- 
claimed to  Jack  Teger,  "Say.  I  ought  tO  be 
doing  this  with  my  own  kid!" 

On  the  active  roster  of  the  Boston  Big 
Brothers  are  many  busy  men,  important  in 
their  professions,  which  range  from  pastry 
chef  to  surgeon.  There  are  an  interior  de- 
signer, a  steamfitter,  an  investment  coun- 
selor, several  salesmen,  doctors,  engineers, 
lawyers,  teachers  and  students.  W~hy  do  they 
do  it?  Why  do  such  men  give  themselves  and 
their  time,  which  is  more  than  money,  to  an 
adolescent  stranger  who  has  more  than  his 
share  of  troubles? 

The  obvious  answer  is  because  of  an  altru- 
istic urge  to  do  something  good,  to  help 
another  human  being  directly,  but  most  of 
the  Big  Brothers  do  not  claim  this  reason. 


'Hie  "do-gixjd"  ini|. 
you  have  u>  nee  llie  < 
the  eyeii  of  a  Big  I 
alxiui  "hiH  Ixiy  "  to 
in  willing  to  give  w> 
'ni'T'-  ;iri-  iri.'iii V  :  ■ 


>KM  i.il  and  |i(r 

men  who  need  ;  < 

(Jlle  Ih  de|x  ridelil  u|x»li  lli' 

less  and  want  childn-n  S 
of  a  family  of  girls  and  M.r 
denlH  and  teachi-rs  w;in' 
part  of  their  pr-. 
ever  iIh"  reason 
lias  eslablishi-*!  .i  i».ipi;>  p 
III  lie  brother  tluit  fad  al> 
enough  for  the  lime  ' 
will  s;iy  merely  thai 
it.  For  some  men,  hi  Ipin,; 
comes  an  al>s<>rbin(.^  hobby,  As'' 


I  I  7 
a  part.  \tu\ 

:i';!<<':ir  ri< 


be 

IS  a 
,.-ly 


iU- 

M  a 
al- 
um 
hiN 
Km 

.'illii.  Me 
"  f«jl  of 
fu- 
ller 


thorout^hly  undirstaie<l  ii  "It  -l^iuiifian 
playing  the  horvs! "  And  it  feels  gcxxi  to  win 
a  human  being.  es|x-cially  a  long  hHoi 

I^VKR  lAihox  Day  we  UmV.  twenty-live 
bf»ys  for  an  outing  at  Eaglebrwik  Sch«x>l." 
recallefl  white-liairwl  TyliT  liamcs,  one  of 
the  older  Bi«  Brothers,  "At  lunch,  my  Ixjy 
sjiid  Xi)  me,  'I  don't  know  what  to  d<».  I>> 
you  mind  if  I  watch  you  and  do  what  you 
do?'  Well,  how  do  you  feel?  Then  when  he 
went  to  Ix-d.  I  went  in  to  see  if  he  was  all 
right.  '  I  kneX\  you'd  cf^me,*  he  said.  '  1  knew 
you'd  come.'  How  do  you  feel  then?  He's 
eleven  years  old  and  a  pretty  tough  young 
man,  but  he  kissed  me  on  the  cheek.  '  That's 
what  I  think  of  you.  Tyler."  he  said.  Well, 
how  do  you  feel?" 

Bill  O'Mahoney  is  a  single  man  who  works 
nights  and  attends  schwl  in  the  daytime.  He 
has  the  youngest  little  brother  in  the  Bfjston 
Association  — a  six-year-old  who  became  al> 
normally  withdrawn  and  morf>se  after  the 
death  of  his  father.  Bill  is  a  Catholic,  as  is  his 
little  brother.  "At  first  I  couldn't  get  Timr.iy 
out  of  the  house,  but  now  he  plays  ball  with 
the  kids."  he  reported.  "  Timmy  made  thirty- 
eight  home  runs  yesterday.  I  always  say. 
'Hello,  you  little  stiff.'  when  I  see  him.  He 
says.  'G'by.  you  -big  stiff.'  when  I  leave. 
Once  he  said  to  me.  'My  father  is  in  heaven.' 
'  I  know.'  I  said,  'and  sf)meday  you  will  be  in 
heaven  with  him  and  your  mother  will  be 
there  too.'  'Will  there  be  ice  cream  in 
heaven?'  Timmy  asked  me.  I  told  him  T 
believed  there  would  be.  '  But  no  smoking ! ' 
Timmy  said." 

The  Jewish  Big  Brothers  Association  of 
Boston,  under  the  direction  of  Philip  Slepian 
for  thirty-three  years,  has  existed  long  enough 
to  witness  what  many  of  its  little  brothers 
have  done  as  men  of  the  world.  In  the  confi- 
dential files  of  the  organization  are  success 
stories  that  make  the  traditional  Hoi;atio 
Alger  rags-to-riches  plots  seem  weak  indeed. 
More  than  twenty  years  ago  the  police  of 
Boston  found  a  young  Jewish  boy,  a  truant 
and  a  runaway,  living  in  a  packing  case  m 
the  city  dump.  He  was  half  starved,  friend- 
less and  penniless.  A  Big  Brother  of  the 
Jewish  Association  guided  the  youth  through 
college  and  law  school.  The  "boy  from  the 
junk  heap"  is  now  a  high-ranking  executive 
of  a  nationally  knowTi  corporation.  Another 
brilliant  youngster,  fatherless,  and  in  trou- 
ble with  the  police  at  age  thirteen,  with  the 
help  and  guidance  of  a  Big  Brother  worked 
his  way  through  medical  school  and  is  now 
a  lieutenant  colonel  in  the  Army  Medical 
Corps  in  charge  of  a  large  hospital  unit  in 
Korea. 

Philip  Slepian  can  go  on  and  on  with  sucii 
stories.  "There  is  no  doubt,"  he  said,  "that 
both  Big  Brother  and  little  brother  get  incal- 
culable good  out  of  their  relationship.  Most 
of  it  cannot  be  seen,  but  some  of  it,  over  a 
period  of  years,  can  be  seen— and  I  have  seen 
it.  Many  former  little  brothers  return  to 
serve  as  Big  Brothers.  They  know  what  it  is 
all  about." 

And  at  the  newer  organization,  over  at  41 
Mt.  \'emon  Street,  if  you  ask  Jimmy  about 
his  Big  Brotliers,  he  will  tell  you.  "They're 
all  O.K.  They  make  a  guy  feel  like  he  ain't 
just  a  speck  of  dirt.  You  know  what  I  mean?  " 

THE  END 


So  (IvUciiius  .  .  .  (ind  so  Inic  in  calories! 

Slarl  ii  ilh  cliiclicn  mexicaine 

in  individual  casseroles. 

molded  grapc-ciiciimber  salads 

with  cream-cheese  dressing. 

Melha  toast  thinly  spread  u  itli  butler. 

and  bite-size  chive  sandwiches. 

Then  for  dessert:  banana  meringues. 

golden  brown  from  the  oven. 


I'VE  planned  this  bridge  luncheon  carefully 
so  thai  it  will  be  easy  to  serve,  require  little 
efii)rl  on  the  day  of  the  party  and  be  deceptively 
low  in  calories — a  good  idea  now  when  people 
are  more  calorie-conscious  than  ever  before. 

The  main  dish  will  be  breast  of  chicken  mexi- 
caine. The  chicken  breasts  can  be  fresh  or 
frozen — these  days  it's  easy  to  find  them  either 
way,  and  a  most  convenient  thing  this  is.  We'll 
[)oach  them  in  very  little  water,  remove  the 
bones  and  with  the  broth  plus  tomatoes,  green 
peppers,  onion,  mushrooms  and  seasonings,  make 
a  wonderful  sauce  to  pour  over  them.  The 


preparation  can  be  done  in  advance  so  that  re- 
heating is  all  that  is  necessary.  Individual  cas- 
seroles are  ideal  in  this  case  because  they  can 
occupy  the  same  plate  with  the  salad,  with  no 
mingliuK  of  hot  and  cold.  And  now  that  we  are 
talking  of  salad,  molded  green  grape  and  cu- 
cumber will  be  it — a  delightful  combination  of 
tastes.  Instead  of  mayonnaise  we'll  have  a  cream- 
cheese  dressing  which  is  perfect  with  this  salad. 
The  bread  will  be  Melba  toast  thinly  spread  with 
butter  or  margarine,  and  for  those  who  have  no 
truck  with  calorie  counting,  chive-butter  sand- 
wiches. For  dessert  {Conlinued  on  Page  154) 


At  each  place:  an  old-fashioned  nosegay  .  .  .  pretty 
on  your  tables  .  .  .  fun  for  guests  to  take  home. 


I.  A   I)    I  i; 


\l  I 


\  I. 


No  such  thing  as  an  ever/day 'meal 
when  you  set  out. . .  - 


with  Matures  mosTregesfnira  -f/avDr 


iJuAJlyth  ^ 


IT 


For  8-inch  pie,  use  -2  can  of  Crushed  Pineapple 
and  follow  any  fruit  pie  recipe 


apple  Growers  Association 


Hasn't  it  been  too  long  since  you've  savored  the  taste  of  Pineapple  pie 
(or  Pineapple  broiled,  with  meat ...  or  Pineapple  juice  for  breakfast)  ? 
Any  menu,  dish  and  meal  comes  wide-awake  with  this  unique  and  tropic  fruit. 
For  in  Pineapple  Nature  stores  her  most  refreshing  flavor ! 
More  than  any  other  fruit,  canned  Pineapple  is  kept  on  hand  in 

America's  home  pantries.  It's  canned  for  you  5  tempting  ways . . . 
provides  quick  food  energy,  protective  vitamins  and  minerals, 

in  sunny  fruit  and  shining  juice.  Fetch  canned  Pineapple  from 
your  shelf  whenever  you  need  a  perker-upper.  Costs  so 
very  little  for  all  the  enjoyment  it  gives ! 


L   A    I)    1    K    S  ' 


H    O    \1  I', 


J    O    li    R    \    \  I, 


January,  1953 


FOUNDATION 


The  makeup  that  cares  for  your  skin... 
makes  you  seem  not  to  wear  makeup  at  all,  but  to 
possess  great  natural  beauty.  6  lovely 
des,  more  lasting,  more  easily  applied  than 
ordinary  makeup...!^* 
Special  value,  large  size,  plastic  bottle... 

prices  plus  lax  ^  -     ^  ^ 


1 


S  •  LONDON  •  NEW  YORK 


A  happy  new  year  begins  with  new  puppies. 


By  GLADYS  TABER 

ON  a  white  snowy  morning  I  can  look  out 
my  window  and  see  more  birds  than  I 
can  count,  tossing  against  the  cold  breast 
of  the  wind,  crowding  the  feeder,  fighting 
over  the  suet  and  peanut  butter,  nipping 
up  seeds.  Whoever  thinks  winter  is  a  life- 
less time  should  see  our  back  yard  now.  It 
throbs  with  living.  The  juncos  hop  in  small 
neat  hops  on  the  snow-  they  are  ground 
feeders.  The  nuthatches  race  head  down  on 
the  sugar  maples  and  the  pilealed  wood- 
peckers hammer  against  the  gray-black 
bark.  The  arrogant  jays  flash  down  very 
early;  the  pale  morning  light  makes  them 
bluer  than  blue. 

When  the  snow  sweeps  down,  the  pines 
in  the  back  of  tlie  yard  are  quivering  as  the 
birds  settle  in  close.  How  the  small  delicate 
feet  can  cling  to  the  branches  is  a  mystery  to 
me;  I  certainly  would  like  to  set  up  a  heat- 
ing plant  in  the  pines  to  warm  their  tojs. 

We  are  much  more  intimate  with  the 
winter  birds  than  with  the  summer  ones 
who  have  a  whole  world  of  green  and  fer- 
tile land  to  fly  in.  Winter  has  its  special 
cliarm,  although  on  a  cold  winter  night 
when  the  kennel  heaters  go  out  and  Jill 
works  until  midnight  to  start  them  going, 
she  generally  makes  a  few  terse  remarks 
about  our  climate! 

When  we  are  househ)ound,  the  days  are 
never  dull.  Jill  waxes  the  pine  cupboards 
and  cleans  the  storage  shelves,  and  I  de- 
cide to  refile  the  records.  I  usually  get  as 
far  as,  playing  my  favorites  and  having  a 
fine  concert  and  then  misfiling  everything 
again.  When  our  friend  Burton  flew  on  from 
Oliio  for  the  holidays,  he  brought  my  most 
cherished  Christmas  gift,  a  complete  con- 
cert sung  by  Glenn  Schnittke,  a  recording 
from  the  University  of  Illinois  program.  I 
always  thought  Bach  was  a  kind  of  intellec- 
tual exercise  until  I  heard  Glenn's  pure  and 
golden  voice,  and  now  I  believe  everyone 
would  appreciate  Bach  if  he  heard  the 
music  as  it  was  meant  to  be  done.  Bach  is 
exciting,  that's  all  there  is  to  it.  Burton  says 
Bach  was  a  real  man,  with  a  passel  of 
children  and  a  healthy  interest  in  life. 


6 


full  of  the  music  and  not  at  all  an  ivory- 1 
tower  composer. 

New  Year's  Eve  is  the  time  for  a  good 
rib-sticking  dinner;  for  the  neighbors  to 
troop  in,  snowy  and  red-cheeked;  for  the 
fire  to  be  just  right,  and  smelling  of  apple. 
The  cockers  are  drowsy,  but  ready  to  alert' 
as  soon  as  the  goose  comes  crackling  from 
the  oven.  The  Irish  has  already  made  off 
with  a  wedge  of  freshly  frosted  cake. 

When  I  was  growing  up,  mamma  always' 
had  a  New  Year's  dinner  for  all  the  faculty  _ 
and  the  left-behind  students  at  college.'  f 
There  was  no  confetti  or  horn  blowing,  no- 
body ever  drank  too  much,  for  the  hot 
mulled  cider,  stirred  with  a  spicy  cinnamon 
stick,  was  the  main  beverage.  After  dinner 
we  pfeyed  charades,  and  I  still  rememh)er' 
the  family  doctor  clad  in  a  fur  rug,  being  a 
bear  for  Car  hear  alor.  When  the  old  walnut 
clock  struck  midnight,  we  all  stopped  and^ 
sang  Auld  Lang  Syne,  and  then  papa  got 
out  a  kettle  of  boiling  wateirand  rushed  out 
to  thaw  the  radiators.  The  women  put  on 
their  worn  cloth  coats,  the  men  buckled 
on  galoshes,  and  I  skipped  out  in  my  red 
plaid  Mackinaw  to  hop  up  and  down  in  the 
crunchy  snow  and  watch  the  swift  white 
steam  rise  as  papa  flung  the  boiling  water. 
Papa's  theory  was  simple  and  firm:  if  any- 
thing w^s  frozen,  thaw  it !  Why  those  cars 
didn't  crack  I  shall  never  know. 

That  was  a  lovely,  innocent  time  when, 
if  you  were  a  good  girl,  everything  was  fine 
with  the  world.  It  took  a  few  wars  to  edu- 
cate me  to  understand  that  no  matter  how 
good  I  might  be,,  life  could  be  sad. 

Even  so,  the  New  Year  has  many  bless- '  ^ 
ings,  the  warmth  of  friendship,  the  won- 
drous change  of  the  seasons.  There  is  the 
pure  selfless  love  of  the  cockers  and  the 
Irish.  The  delicate  print  of  a  cat's  paw  on 
new-fallen  snow.  There  is  the  special  se-'ftj 
curity  of  a  home,  and  the  fun  that  my'  M 
daughter  Cicely  and  I  have  now  that  she 
is  grown  up.  I  suspect  all  mothers  really 
hate  to  see  their  children  grow  up;  the 
snuggly  age  of  the  blue  bunny  suit,  the 
first  adventure  in  walking,  the  loping  pony '  k 


t 


i.  \  I)  I  I 


II    n    \|    I        I    n    I     |(    \    s  I, 


lays  wlion  llie  liouse  quivers  as  younj^  feel 
Kiund  Ihrouuli  these  are  so  i)recious.  Hut 
.  is  very  lovely  to  know  your  child  as  an 
idult,  to  share  music  and  poetry  (and  you 
rould  love  the  really  modern  i)oels  if  you  Kol 
sed  to  the  piiiicluation,  says  Cicely  ear- 
i.'Stly).  I  think  the  main  jol)  of  a  parent  is  not 
0  be  left  behind  as  the  children  ^row  u|),  but 
0  keep  KrowinK  with  them. 

Esix'cially  Me  is  enjoying  his  first  winter, 
le  is  one  C()m|)lete  snowbank  when  he  comes 
:i  and  leaps  to  my  bed  to  dry  oil.  Hut  the 
now  is  full  of  rabbit  prints  and  a  boy  has  to 
heck  on  every  oni'.  lie  works  hard,  jonquil 
ives  him  a  motlierly  nip  if  lii'  shaki's  on  her. 
iince  she  won  lier  Comi)anion  Don  ICxcellent 
le^ree  last  fall,  she  has  an  air  of  dignity;  she 
L'cls  frankly  superior  to  lier  ()ffs|)rinK. 

Daphne  has  one  more  Ie.t;  to  ^^el  for  her 
\D.  decree.  Her  last  ai)|)earance  in  the  rinj.; 
/as  durin^j  tlie  lumtini;  season,  and  Daphne 
K)lted  out  and  lluslied  a  plieasant  at  the 
(Ifje  of  the  nearby  woods.  She  felt  that  was 
ilinitely  more  imiDortanl  than  doinn  a  mere 
I'call.  She  looked  very  Ix'autiful  llyin^  over 
lie  lield,  tail  a  burnished  plume.  le,(j;s  skim- 


ming the  mound.  Hut  the  expression  on  Jill's 
face  as  she  stood  in  the  rint.;  with  no  don  was 
something  to  shudder  at ! 

Alice  and  MarKarel,  our  nei^;hllors  down 
the  road,  have  a  special  prize  saved  for 
Daphne  when  she  linislies.  We  can  kxjk  at  it 
now,  but  we  wail  until  siie  ^;ets  Dial  last 
le^.  .lonnie  points  a  smun  paw  at  the  anticjue 
silver  noblel  they  nave  her  for  her  triumph. 

I  iiave  been  rereadiiin  the  letters  of  ICdna 
St.  Vincent  Millay,  and  loving  every  word  of 
them.  She  was  a  threat  poet  we  are  fortunate 
that  she  san^  in  our  lime  but  she  was  also 
a  fascinalinn  woman,  and  her  (|uick,  lively 
wit  and  zest  for  life  siiow  in  the  letters.  This 
is  a  b(K)k  to  savor,  to  read  by  liie  lire  on  a 
snowy  ninhl.  Winter  is  such  a  fine  time  to 
read  letters  I  reread  Keats'  letters  and  tlu' 
letters  of  Katheriiie  Mansfield  and  there  is 
always  somelhinn  new  and  wonderful  in 
Ihem.  It  is  certainly  true  these  days  that 
most  correspondence  is  carried  on  by  ixist 
cards,  and  that  is  a  i)ily.  Things  just  move 
so  fast,  we  seldom  sit  down  and  jjour  out  our 
thoughts  in  a  lonu  leisurely  letter  to  a  dear 
friend. 


If  the  current  ({fx-s  off,  and  we  batlle  lo 
keep  the  pi|jes  from  free/ini.'  and  tlic  freezer 
from  thawing  what  a  combination  I  can 
always  solace  iiiys«  |f  with  the  new  Ti-d  Key 
b<X)k,  If  Vou  Like  I  la/el.  'I  his  would  make 
me  feel  nay  even  tm  an  ici  lxrn  m  Sitx-ria. 
Hazel  is  not  only  supremely  funny,  but  nlie  ih 
also  very  nice,  in  her  own  vi^orouH  and  in- 
deixndenl  way.  She's  worth  having  for  a 
friend ! 

Ninhl  shuts  down  wj  early  now,  the  lonn 
blue  shadows  slide  over  the  white  world. 
The  8ou|)  kettle  simmers,  sjiidinn  forth  rich 
«(x>d  smells.  "It's  Uh>  bad  you  can  never 
make  the  same  sou|)  anain,"  s;iys  Jill.  I  never 
can,  since  I  invi  nt  each  soup  as  I  no  alonu- 
If  it  turns  out  to  Ix;  a  thin  soup,  parsley 
duinplinns  can  i)uff  themselves  in  it;  if  it  is 
a  SOU])  with  much  in  it,  crispy  croutons 
dusted  with  cheese  never  are  amiss.  And  a 
man-size  bowl  of  soup  for  a  fireside  supjK-r  is 
a  line  Ihinn,  especially  with  bite-size  hot 
muffins  or  iX)|X)vers  on  the  side.  For  dessert, 
rosy  [xjlished  apples  and  delicate  slices  of 
.cheese  and  wafer-thin  crackers  are  perfect. 
Coffee  in  solid  muns  is  sleaminu  hot. 


I.aii-r,  wht-n  ihi-  bin.  I  f  <,!d  j.  -.iW-  :,rn<,nd 
•  is 

nui.  Uic  old  ruhly  ■  il 
(luffy  |Xi|K:ijrn.  and  i  a  K'jod 

ninhi  drink. 

Now  I  reread  all  my  Chmimnn  crifl*!  and 
Ihink  alxjut  the  far.i  ,  u 

lives,  and  about  all  i  Id 
who  alwi  love  liumc  and  lajiiil)  iuuX  u^unlry 
as  we  df>. 

Out  v;o  Jonqii  !  '  '        lie  Sin- 

ter, Daphne,   I  a  hini 

whirl  in  the  snow  i  I  i  r 

and  the  rest  are  in  li.' 
for  puppy  biHcuils. 

The  silver  nwxjn  ridin  in  the  cold  sky.  ihe 
attendant  stars  are  p  As  (lie 

dons  scurry  in,  I  dt>  ,  a  lam 

Ux>k  down  the  dark!  /y  New 

Year,  says  Jom|uil,  of  tlu 

wanninnesi  tail  you  .'...»  .n.d  .lUjAiunc  in 
the  universe. 

I  lappy  ,N'ew  Year  the  wjund  echfx-sacrosK 
the  quiet  snow,  but  I  like  to  think  it  d<x-s  noi 
die! 


eurosis. Costumes—  .yrand marches  -there's 
Hiiethinn  the  matter  witii  Ihe  woman! 
that'll  I  do?" 

Candy  said  stanchly,  "I  think  it's  a  won- 
erful  idea.  ...  I  wonder  what  Bill  can 

0  as?" 

"A  camel,"  said  Adam  promptly.  "I  my- 
^If  am  tioini;  lo  be  ill  on  Labor  Day  week 
nd.  I  am  Roin.t;  to  have  a  mysterious  disease 
hich  baflles  medical  science.  I  am  going  lo 
e  knocking  at  death's  door." 

"You,"  said  Molly,  with  steel  in  her 
oice,  "are  going  as  Lawrence  of  Arabia.  In 
sheet."  Adam  made  a  noise  that  sounded 
ke  a  sob. 

"A  camel,"  said  Candy  thoughtfully.  "A 
amel?" 

Molly  looked  at  her  with  sudden  atten- 
veness;  there  was  a  fractional  silence  .  .  . 

"How  do  you  do?"  said  a  small,  sweet 
oice.  "I  did  ring  the  doorbell,  but  I 
Liess  " 

Adam  sat  up  hastily.  Everyone  turned  to- 
ard  the  living-room  door. 

r 

iT  was  a  nymph  who  stood  there,  fragile 
nd  exquisite,  in  a  pale  green  dress  that  ap- 
eared  to  be  made  of  foam.  Candy  thought 
le  had  never  seen  a  prettier  girl:  tiny  hands 
nd  feet,  innocent,  dark  blue  eyes,  a  com- 
lexion  like  pale  silk.  She  scrambled  hastily 
)  her  feet. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  de  Forest,  I'm  so  sorry — do 
3me  out !  This  is  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Campbell . . . 
nd  my  husband  .  .  .  Mrs.  de  Forest." 

Mrs.  de  Forest  greeted  them  with  a  gentle 
nile.  She  turned  to  Candy.  "Do  call  me 
ily.  I've  heard  so  much  about  you  from 
lamma,  I  always  think  of  you  as  Candy, 
nd  it's  so  nice  of  you  to  ask  me  here." 

"Of  course.  I  mean  not  a  bit,"  Candy  said. 
Sit  down,  won't  you?  Goodness,  isn't  it 
ot?" 

"  You  don't  look  hot."  Mrs.  de  Forest's 
banning  smile  went  from  Bill  to  Adam, 
.dam  began  surreptitiously  to  tuck  in  his 
lirt;  Bill  ran  a  hand  over  his  hair. 

"We're  just  going  to  have  some  iced  tea," 
e  said.  "But  if  there's  anything  you'd 
ither  " 

"Oh,  I  love  iced  tea,"  Lily  de  Forest  said. 

Molly  asked  politely,  "How  do  you  like 
our  house?" 

"  It's  very  nice,  thank  you."  The  incred- 
)le  eyelashes  turned  toward  Molly.  "Of 
3urse  I  don't  know  anyone  in  Mustard 
till— except  you,-  Candy— so  sometimes  it 
;ems  rather  .  .  .  empty."  Her  smile  was 
;nder  and  courageous,  and  she  bent  her 
ead  a  little,  humbly.  Her  hair  was  parted 

1  the  midde  like  a  good  child's. 

"But  you'll  gel  lo  know  people,"  Candy 
Jid. 

"We'll  fix  all  that."  Bill  was  h -arty.  "We 
'ere  just  talking  about  the  Labor  Day 
ance  at  the  club.  You'll  come  wi  h  us." 


Tiii<:  .11  im;.>i 

(C'<>nli)iiif(l 

"We'll  all  get  a  table  together,"  said 
Adam  cozily.  "  It's  going  lo  be  a  great  party. 
You  mustn't  miss  il." 

"I'm  afraid  tiiere  aren't  many  unallached 
men  in  Mustard  Hill  "  Candy  began. 

"Are  you  people  receiving  this  afternoon?" 

Candy  whirled.  "Why,  Christopher— how 
nice!  You  know  Molly  and  Adam,  of  course. 
And  this  is  Mrs.  de  Forest.  Mr.  Bement." 

"A  single  man!"  Bill  cried.  "Christopher, 
there  is  at  last  a  use  for  you." 

"Mr.  Bement,"  said  Candy  clearly,  "is 
my  sister  Jane's  fiance." 

Lily  de  Forest's  blue  gaz.e  widened.  "How 
terribly  nice,"  she  said  softly.  "Bui  when.' 
is  your  sister?" 

"In  Paris,"  Candy  said.  "Buying  her 
trousseau." 

"And  she  won't  be  back  until  October," 
Bill  added.  "Christopher,  how  would  you 
like  " 

"Some  iced  tea?"  Candy  asked  swiftly. 

Christopher's  British  features  sliffened 
perceptibly. 

"They  always  drink  gin  and  tonic,  don'l 
they?"  Molly  asked  vivaciously.  "In  those 
Outhouses  of  Empire?" 

"There's  some  lemonade  in  the  icebox," 
Candy  offered  enthusiastically. 

"Thanks  very  much."  Christopher's  relief 
was  evident.  "If  it's  not  too  much  trouble," 
he  added. 

Candy  went  into  the  house,  with  Molly  at 
her  heels.  They  stood  side  by  side  at  the 
pantry  sink. 

"My  husband  doesn't  like  pathetic  little 
figures,  have  you  noticed?  "  Molly  remarked, 
prying  savagely  at  ice  cubes. 

"She  doesn't  know  anyone,"  Candy  ob- 
served. "I  bet  she  comes  as  Scheherazade." 

Molly  said  suddenly,  "Listen.  About  this 
camel  " 

Their  eyes  met.  Candy  murmured, 
"Haven't  you  always  longed  to  be  half  of  a 
horse,  or  something?" 

"Would  it  cost  much  to  rent,  do  you 
think?" 

Candy  considered.  "Probably.  But  per- 
haps just  the  head  " 

"And  tan  outing  flannel,"  Molly  said  in- 
stantly. "Yards  and  yards  " 

"Papier-mache  for  the  hump,"  said  Candy. 
"  I  used  to  make  lots  of  things  out  of  papier- 
mache.  You  just  take  wet  newspaper  " 

Molly  cleared  her  throat.  "Er— which 
end,"  she  asked  carefully,  "would  you  prefer 
to  " 

"The  rear  half,"  Candy  said  with  equal 
care,  "has  always  appealed  to  me  strongly. 
But  if  you  " 

"Not  at  all."  Molly  was  gracious.  "The 
front  end  has  been  my  life's  ambition." 

Candy  took  Christopher's  lemonade,  Molly 
picked  up  the  ice  bucket,  and  they  returned 
to  the  terrace,  which  was  empty.  At  the  far 
end  of  the  garden,  three  masculine  figures 


i::\T  oi'  iJi.v 

from  1'au.f  Ml) 

surrounded  a  gfxid-child's  head  and  an  airy 
green  skirt. 

"I've  always  been  a  city  mouse."  Lily's 
voice  chimed  like  c(xj1  bells  in  the  sultry 
afternoon.  "I'm  afraid  I  shall  need  simply 
endless  advice." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"Well,  of  course,"  Adam  said  porten- 
tously, "there  are  petunias." 

"  It  must  be  wonderful  to  know  about 
gardening!"  Lily's  voice  was  muted  with 
admiration. 

Bill  cleared  his  throat.  "You  can't  go 
wrong  with  irises.  Absolutely  foolprtxtf.  Now 
tlicse  I  planted  last  fall  " 


Iransformation 

Itv  UlanHu-  UvUriiff 

Because  you  came  and  found  me 
fair 

And  laid  your  hand  upon  my  hair, 
I  wear  as  proudly  as  a  crown 
That  hair  of  ordinary  brown. 
Being  loved  is  having  cause 
For  being  taller  than  I  was 
And  we  have  come  to  stand, 

thereby. 
Heart  to  heart  and  eye  to  eye. 
And  what  I  never  dreamed  to  hear 
Is  a  jewel  at  my  ear: 
A  name  so  straight  and  plain  as  mine 
Heart-shaped  like  a  valentine. 


"Upside  down,"  Candy  remarked  to 
Molly.  "It  took  me  a  week  to  dig  them  up 
and  put  them  on  their  feet.  Have  some  iced 
tea,  dear.  It's  a  hot  afternoon." 

"Isn't  it?"  said  Molly. 

It  was  a  good  thing  that  the  children  were 
in  Maine  with  their  grandmother.  The  camel 
had  absorbed  the  entire  nursery.  The  hump, 
in  a  rudimentary  phase,  was  drying  under 
one  window.  The  sewing  machine  stood 
under  the  other.  And  the  creators  crawled 
about  the  floor,  cutting,  pinning,  fitting, 
basting,  ripping  and  pinning  again. 

"Oh,  dear,  we've  got  to  stop."  Candy 
pushed  damp  curls  off  her  forehead.  "  I  prom- 
ised her  I'd  stop  in  this  afternoon.  Lily,  I 
mean.  So  did  you." 

Molly  sat  back  with  a  sigh.  "  I  wonder  why 
she  brings  out  the  beast  in  me?" 


"I  think,"  Candy  said  meditatively,  "it's 
because  she's  so  darned  biave.  Such  a  stiff 
upper  lip." 

"And  such  a  sfjfl  lower  one,"  said  Molly. 

"Bill  says  we  mustn't  judge  her." 

"Why  on  earth  not?"  NIolly  was  aston- 
ished. 

"\\'ell,  aside  from  the  fact  that  it's 
wicked."  Candy  said  purely,  "Bill  says  we 
be  wron;;." 

Molly  snorted.  "Wrong!  Come  on— lei's 
go  judging." 

They  followed  the  brick  path  around  Lily 
-de  Forest's  house.  At  the  fcxjt  of  the  lawn,  a 
giant  elm  spread  violet  shade.  Under  il  sal 
Lily,  in  pink  linen,  and  with  her  was  a 
young  man  in  shirt  sleeves. 

"  Wh>',  it's  Christopher! "  Candy  breathed. 

Lily  floated  lo  meet  them,  crying  with 
appealing  eagenttjfcihat  they  must  come  at 
once  and  see  wHat  Christopher  had  been 
doing.  "He's  been  building  me  a  dog  run  for 
Peter!"  she  called. 

"Who's  Peter — her  ex-husband?"  Molh 
growled. 

Lily  went  on  gaily,  "My  cocker  spaniel, 
you  know.  I  just  didn't  know  what  in  the 
world  to  do  with  him  " 

Cliristopher  joined  them,  rolling  down  his 
sleeves  and  looking  rosier  than  usual.  Every- 
one .sat  under  the  elm  tree,  and  Lily  gave 
them  something  delicious  in  tall  glasses. 

"Have  you  got  your  costume  for  the 
Labor  Day  party?"  Candy  asked. 

Lily  dimpled  adorably.  "Oh,  yes,  but  it's 
a  secret!  Have  you?" 

"Ours,"  said  Molly,  "is  a  secret  too.  I 
mean  Candy's  is  a  secret — and  so  is  mine. 
Both  of  our  costumes  is  a  secret.  I  jne^^^e." 

"What  about  you,  Christopher?"  Candy 
inquired  hastily. 

"Mine  is  a  complete  secret." 

IjILY  turned  to  Molly.  "  By  the  way,  I  do 
want  to  thank  you  for  your  cleaning  woman." 

Molly  looked  blank.  "Y'ou  surely  don't 
mean  Mrs.  Sheets?" 

Lily  nodded,  lowering  her  long  lashes.  "I 
just  happened  lo  meet  your  husband  yester- 
day, down  by  the  station,  and  he  suggested 
that  Mrs.  Sheets  " 

"Oh,  what  a  pity!"  Molly  said  blandly. 
"Our  Mrs.  Sheets  never  works  in  August." 

"Then  it  was  specially  nice  of  her  to 
come,  wasn't  il?"  Lily  murmufed  sweetly. 

Molly  swallowed.  "Airs.  Sheets  came?" 

"Right  away,"  Lily  said.  "She's  such  an 
old  darling,  isn't  she?" 

"Oh,  do  you  think  so?"  Molly  said.  "We 
always  think  of  her  as  more  the  monster 
t>T>e." 

"Yesterday,"  Lily  said  brightly,  "she 
washed  my  hair.  The  mosl  wonderful  sham- 
poo !  And  the  way  she  makes  potato  salad  

Won't  you  iiave  another  cooky?  These  are 
hers  too." 


Why  I  insist  on  Hygeia 
Breast-Shaped  Nipples^' 


fcjKarl  Goldsmith 
age  2  months 
Buffalo,  N.  Y. 


"No  un-natural  shaped 
nipples  for  me!  The 
nearest  thing  to  mother's  hreast  is  the 
Hygeia  Nipple."' 

Hygeia  is  the  nationally  advertised 
bottle  most  widely  used  in  hospital  nur- 
series. It's  the  only  bottle  with  nipple 
shaped  like  Mother's  breast,  and  helps 
promote  proper  jaw  and  teeth  formation. 


HycEfA 

i     NEXT  BEST  TO  MOTHER'S  BR6AST 


CORNS 

REMOVED  BY 

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if  not  satisfied.  The  Moss 
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Now  Many  Wear 

FALSE  TEETH 

With  More  Comfort 

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acid)  powder,  holds  false  teeth  more  firmly. 
To  eat  and  talk  in  more  comfort,  just  sprinkle 
a  little  FASTEETH  on  your  plates.  No 
gummy,  gooey,  pasty  taste  or  feeUng.  Checks 
"plate  odor"  (denture  breath).  Get 
FASTEETH  at  any  drug  store. 

When  mouth  tissues  change  — see  your  dentist. 
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^fi^  LEARN  AT  HOME 

•  to  be  a  Nurse's  Aide 

•  Practical  Nurse 

•  or  Infant  Nurse 

l'n  [).irc  ni  -fiare  time  tor  a  fa^t  inating.  high-pay  career. 
Iliousaiid^  of  men  and  women,  18-60,  are  graduates  of 
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Dept.  281,  41  East  Pearson  Street,  Chicago  11,  ill. 
Please  send  mf*  free  hooklet  and  16  sample  lesson  pages. 

N  a  me.  

Cily  Slate  Agf  


"Thank  you,"  said  Molly,  "no.  We  have 
to  be  going  along." 

"I'll  drop  in  tomorrow,"  Christopher  said, 
".lust  to  see  how  Peter  takes  to  the  run." 

"Oh,  do!"  Lily  cried.  "I'm  always  here, 
you  know." 

"E.xcept,"  Molly  muUered,  "when  you're 
down  by  the  station,  Ow!"  She  glared  at 
Candy,  who  had  administered  a  disciplinary 
pinch. 

"We  mustn't  judge,"  Candy  hissed,  and 
added,  "Ow!" 

The  week  progressed.  Bill  came  in  to  sup- 
per half  an  hour  late  one  night,  due  to  the 
fact  that  he  had  had  to  drive  Lily  de  Forest 
to  the  place  where  you  bought  irises.  Adam 
was  unable  to  cut  his  own  grass  on  Saturday 
morning,  because  the  man  he  had  sent  to  cut 
Lily's  grass  had  failed  to  appear,  and,  as 
Adam  reasonably  pointed  out,  somebody  had 
to  do  it. 

Three  days  before  the  Labor  Day  dance, 
Molly  burst  into  the  nursery,  "Listen ! "  she 
e.xploded.  "This  is  the  end!" 

"Not  quite,"  Candy  said.  "The  head 
came  this  morning.  We'll  have  to  attach  it 
to  the  body  " 

"Never  mind  the  body!  I  stopped  in  at 
Lily  de  Forest's  with  that  cookbook  she 
wanted,  and  she  was  getting  ready  to  go  into 
town  to  dinner — with  Christopher ! " 

"What?" 

Molly  nodded  grimly.  Her  black  hair 
curled  tightly  around  her  face  and  her  black 
eyes  snapped.  Candy  had  often  thought  that 
it  was  worth  a  crisis  to  see  Molly  Campbell 
in  a  temper— but  not,  perhaps,  this  particu- 
lar crisis.  If  Jane,  so  in  love  with  Christopher, 
should  come  back  from  France  to  find  

She  stood  up  abruptly. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  Molly 
asked  quickly.  "Cable  Jane?" 

Candy  shook  her  head  impatiently.  "  What 
good  would  that  do?  I'm  going  to  talk 
to  Lily." 

Molly  gave  her  a  startled  look.  "Carrying 
a  white  flag,  dear— or  a  tiny  pearl-handled 
revolver  in  your  handbag?" 

"I  don't  know  yet,"  Candy  said  slowly. 
"But  I  don't  think  it  will  be  a  white  flag." 

Molly  gazed  at  her  in  awe. 

However,  in  spite  of  her  love  for  and 
loyalty  to  Jane,  Candy's  resolution  might 
easily  have  faltered.  It  was  Lily  herself  who, 
quite  inadvertently,  stiffened  her  courage. 
That  evening  Bill  was,  for  the  second  time  in 
ten  days,  late  for  supper.  And  when  he  ar- 
rived: looking  a  little  sheepish,  it  turned  out 
that  Lily  had  been  on  the  train,  that  her  car 
had  declined  to  leave  the  station  yard,  that 
Bill  had  driven  her  home,  called  the  garage 
for  her  and  waited  to  see  what  was  the  trouble 
with  her  car.  After  all,  the  least  a  neighbor 
could  do  

"And  what  was  the  trouble?  "Candy  asked. 

"The  battery,"  Bill  mumbled,  "needed 
recharging." 

Candy  put  down  his  jellied  tomato  soup 
rather  hard.  "Goodness — she  does  need  a 
man,  doesn't  she?" 

Bill  glanced  at  her,  ate  a  spoonful  of  soup, 
and  glanced  at  her  again.  "You  know, 
darling,  that's  one  of  the  few  really  catty 
remarks  I've  ever  heard  you  make.  Why 
are  you  so  hard  on  Lily?" 

Candy  felt  the  muscles  in  her  face  tighten 
shrewishly.  "Has  it  escaped  your  notice  that 
Lily  de  Forest  is  the  most  scheming,  two- 
faced  little  serpent  since  Becky  Sharp?" 

"Lily  de  Forest,"  said  Bill  without  heat, 
"is  neither  scheming  nor  two-faced.  She  is 
gallant,  proud — and  heartbroken." 

Candy  got  up  and  took  the  soup  plate 
into  the  pantry.  The  fact  that  she  felt  ac- 
tively ill  was  not  due  to  the  soup. 

At  a  little  after  five  the  next  afternoon 
Candy  walked  swiftly  up  the  path  to  Lily's 
door.  She  was  entirely  without  a  plan  of 
campaign,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  the 
beating  of  her  heart  must  be  visible  through 
her  white  pique  sun  dress. 

The  front  door  stood  open,  but  again  the 
house  was  empty.  Again,  Candy  went  along 
the  brick  path ;  again  she  saw  Lily  under  the 
giant  elm.  This  time,  however.  Lily  was 


quite  alone,  in  a  big  wicker  chair  with  a 
huge,  fan-shaped  back.  As  Candy  reached 
her,  Lily  lifted  her  head,  and  Candy  saw 
that  her  lovely  eyes  were  swollen  and  red. 
For  just  a  moment  Candy's  step  faltered, 

"Lily,  dear,"  she  murmured  solicitously, 
"is  something  the  matter?" 

Lily  shook  her  head  and  smiled — bravely. 
"Not  really.  At  least  nothing  that  anyone 
can  help." 

"Is  it  "  Some  remnant  of  delicacy 

gave  Candy  pause.  "It  must  be  about  your 
divorce,  you  poor  dear.  Do  tell  me,  won't 
you?  Sometimes  it  helps  just  to  talk." 

Tears  swam  into  Lily's  eyes  again,  and 
she  blinked  them  away.  She  looked  down  at 
her  fingers,  twisted  childishly  together. 
"Happy  marriages  are  all  pretty  much  alike, 
aren't  they ? "  she  said  steadily.  "I've  always 
thought  so.  It's  the  unhappy  ones  that  are 
all  dilYerent. ...  I  mean,  in  a  happy  marriage 
a  husband  behaves  like  a  husband  and  a 
wifelikea  wife— because  they  are.  But  when 
two  people  are  suddenly  just  a  man  and  a 
woman — well,  they're  not  a  couple  any  more, 
are  they?  I  mean,  they  don't  want  the  same 
thing.  So  they  can't  solve  the  problem." 

Candy  said  slowly,  "Yes.  I  think  I  see 
what  you  mean.  ...  I  suppose  your  own 
problem  was  ,  .  ,  another  man?" 

Lily  looked  amazed,  "Oh,  no!  It  was  an- 
other woman!" 

Candy  stared,  "You  mean  your  hus- 
band  " 

Lily  took  a  deep  breath,  picked  up  the 
wadded  handkerchief  at  her  feet,  thrust  it 
into  her  pocket  and  said  clearly,  "Freddy 
has  fallen  in  love  with  a  huge  girl  named 
Nancy,  She  rides  horses.  She's  very  dark  and 
handsome  and  you  can't  contradict  her.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  she  reminds  me  a  lot  of 
Freddy's  mother.  The  funny  part  of  it  is, 
I  always  thought  Freddy's  mother  detested 
me— but  now  she's  furious  at  me  because 
Freddy  fell  in  love  with  Nancy.  I  got  a  letter 
from  her  this  morning— another.  She  says  I 
should  have  fought  for  Freddy." 

"But  didn't  you?"  Candy  asked  stupidly. 

Lily's  great  eyes  were  dark  with  bewilder- 
ment and  misery.  "  I  don't  know  how.  Candy, 
how  do  you  fight  for  a  man?" 

"I  think  there  are  ways,"  Candy  said, 
with  a  certain  dryness, 

Lily  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't  know  them. 
If  any  man— even  Freddy — says  he — he 
doesn't  want  me  any  more" — she  lifted  her 
chin— "well,  he  can  have  his  Nancy.  I  can 
manage." 

"Er — yes,  I'm  sure  you  can."  Here,  Candy 
suddenly  saw,  was  her  opening,  and  she 
must  take  it.  "But  Lily— in  the  process 
other  people  may  get  hurt." 

"What  other  people?" 

"Well  ...  of  course,  when  a  girl  as — as 
attractive  as  you  are  is  suddenly  free  .  .  . 


well,  other  men  are  going  to  fall  in  love  wi' 
her,  aren't  they?"  ' 

Candy  would  not  have  been  surprised 
Lily  had  turned  innocent,  arch  or  ev' 
angry.  But  Lily  looked  merely  tired. 

"Oh,  I  hope  not,"  she  said  wearily.  "Don 
please,  say  that,  I'm  the  kind  of  girl  men  ^ 
ways  fall  in  love  with — for  a  while.  It's  tt 
cause  I'm  such  a  fool." 

Candy  moved  sharply.  "Now  really 
both  know  you  aren't  that." 

"Oh,  yes  I  am."  Lily  bent  her  flowerlil 
head.  "It's  part  of  my  foolishness  that  ti 
only  man  I  want  is  Freddy." 

"Then,"  said  Candy  relentlessly,  "w^ 
did  you  leave  him?" 

IjILy's  head  came  up.  "But  I  told  yo 
I'm  too  proud  to  stay  where  I'm  not  wantt 
You  talk  like  Christopher.  He  keeps  sayir 
'Then  why  did  you  leave?'  He  keeps  telli 
me  that  pride  has  no  place  in  a  marria 
anyway." 

"Christopher  says  that?" 

"He  says  I'm  handling  this  all  wrong 
takes  me  out  dancing  to  cheer  me  up — a' 
then  scolds  me  and  tells  me  how  wrong  1 1 
and  makes  me  feel  worse  than  ever  — , 

Candy  looked  hard  at  Lily.  A  likely  ta 
she  thought.  "You've  mentioned  Chrisll 
pher.  You  remember  he's  engaged  to  r 
sister?" 

"Yes,  I  remember."  Unexpectedly,  tht 
was  a  gleam  in  Lily's  eye.  "Why?" 

"Well,  do  you  think  it's  wise  to — to  ? 
quite  so  much  of  him?  " 

Lily's  lips  set  in  a  queer  little  smile.  9 
looked  straight  at  Candy  and  for  the  fill 
time  her  eyes  were  neither  wistful  nor  a 
pealing.  They  shone — dangerously.  "Are  y- 
by  any  chance  .  ,  ,  warning  me.  Candy?'"- 

They  looked  at  each  other  for  a  long  m 
ment.  "Well,  yes,"  said  Candy  mildly,  i 
guess  I  am." 

Lily's  round  throat  suddenly  looked  ve 
long  and  haughty,  "You'd  like  me  to  st- 
seeing  Christopher  altogether?" 

"It  might  be  wise.  You  say  yours" 
you're  the  kind  of  girl  "  : 

"I'm  not  that  kind  of  girl.  And  just  t 
cause  you  think  I  am  is  no  reason  that  I  c" 
see  to  sit  at  home  without  any  friends  at  a 
I  suppose  you'd  like  me  to  give  up  t- 
country-club  dance,  I  suppose  you'd  like  i 
to  sit  all  alone  and  suffer  " 

"Oh,  come!"  Candy  said  briskly,  "Ther 
no  need  for  melodrama."  • 

"None  whatever.  I  shall  be  at  the  dant' 
In  costume.  With  Christopher," 

Candy  stood  up.  "  In  spite  of  your  pride 

"Because  of  my  pride,"  said  Lily  with? 
small,  icy  smile. 

"Good-by,"  said  Candy,  with  a  small  i 
smile  of  her  own,  "We'll  see  you  on  Sati' 
day  night." 


'/t'.s  Titntny  and  his  brothers  and  you  should 
see  the  sivell  presents  they  brought.^' 


I.  \  I)  I  I 


II     "     M     I  I     <)     I      II     \     \  I 


Miilly  arrived  al  six  on  Saturday  I'vctiiiin, 
Ihoiijih  she  had  spout  (he  whole  moriiirin 
tlie  club,  chivying  a  liarassed  coiiiiiiitloe 
irn  the  top  of  a  slejjladder,  and  driving 
■f,c  nails  into  the  w(K)dvvork  (which  the 
ard  ol  ^(overnors  snt)se(|uently  discovi'icd 
til  loud  cries  of  jKnn),  she  looked  as  fresh 
lliouuh  she  had  stayed  in  bed  till  noon. 
In  the  i)rivacy  of  the  nurseiy,  Candy  re- 
iul  her  conversation  with  Lily  de  iMirest. 
k)  1  just  bundled  the  whole  tiling,"  she  lin- 
ed miserably.  "And  now  what  do  I  do?" 
"NoliiinK."  Molly  was  terse.  "Lily  won 
s  round.  Lei  her  alone  and  something  will 
ppeii." 

"That's  a  line,  Miiawberish  philosoi)iiy," 
nd\'  said  acidly. 

'Listen.  Vou  can  push  tiiin.ns  just  so  lai 
i  when  they  won't  no  any  farther  well, 
ire's  nothing  to  do  but  wait.  I  don't  intend 
have  the  niealest  ni^lU  of  iny  life  ruined 
;ause  of  Lily  de  I-'oresl.  Come  on!  We 
ren'l  much  time." 

riiey  peeli'd  off  their  clothes,  jjul  on  their 
Jiini;  suits  and  advanced  upon  the  re- 
ubent  form  of  the  linished  camel,  stretched 
iply  on  the  ll(M)r. 

Vov  know,  she  really  is  wonderful." 
)lly  i^a/.ed  reverently  on  their  handiwork, 
['camel's  rented  face  wore  that  essentially 
nclish  expression  of  contemptuous  arro- 
ice;  its  eyelashes,  however,  which  were  of 
low  wool,  iinvc  it  a  most  confusing  air  of 
dcsty  ver.ninn  on  the  demure.  It  was  im- 
wibk'  to  decide  whether  it  was  sneering  or 
lin.u;  ix)ssibly  both. 

'It  looks  sort  of  like -  is  it  Louis  the 
.irteenth?"  Candy  pondered  dreamily, 
dolly  gave  a  little  strangled  shriek, 
andy!  Do  you  know  who  she  looks  ex- 
ly  like?  My  Aunt  Florence — the  one  who 
1  off  with  the  tractor  salesman  when  she 
5  forty-seven  and  went  to  live  in  Augusta, 
argia.  But  my  dear,  it  simply  is  Aunt 
irence!  It's  uncanny!" 
'Come  along,"  Candy  urged.  "Louis  the 
jrleenth  or  your  aunt  from  Augusta,  this 
10  time  for  reminiscences.  Get  in!"  She 
lipi^ed  Aunt  Florence's  chest  and  began 
crawl  in  backward. 

rhe  camel  was,  in  fact,  a  triumph  of  en- 
eering.  They  had  constructed  a  sort  of 
it  scalTolding  for  the  support  of  the  hump; 

front  ends  were  strapped  to  Molly's 
mlders.  rather  like  a  stretcher,  and  the 
r  ends  to  Candy's.  Molly  followed  Candy 
and  after  a  short  struggle  managed  to 
36  the  zipper.  Inside,  it  was  unquestion- 
y  very  warm  and  completely  dark;  but 
re  were  two  round  holes,  one  on  either 
^  of  the  camel's  neck,  through  which 
dly  could  peer,  as  though  through  twin 
iscopes.  Candy  was  also  equipped  with  a 
r  of  peepholes,  just  forward  of  Aunt 
irence's  bony  rump.  They  provided  her 
;h  a  fragmentary  and  very  confusing  view 
life  outside. 

fhey  had  practiced  peering  and  walking 
week,  and  they  now  set  off  along  the  up- 
irs  hall  in  a  sort  of  shambling  lope.  From 
!  living  room  below.  Bill's  voice  rose  to 
mince  that  it  was  time  to  go. 
jetting  downstairs  presented  certain  diffi- 
ties;  but  in  the  front  hall.  Aunt  Florence 
uggled  to  her  feet  and  trotted  briskly  into 
I  living  room.  There  was  a  moment  of 
ipefied  silence,  followed  by  a  piercing 
earn. 

"What  is  it?"  howled  Bill.  "Take  it 

"Allah  il  allah!"  moaned  Adam,  glaring 
t  from  under  his  Lawrence-of-Arabia 
let.  "This  is  the  Lost  Week-end!" 
Hunt  Florence  tossed  her  head  coquet- 
hly  and  did  a  dignified  Charleston  with 
rhind  feet.  Bill,  in  his  burnoose.  and  Adam 
his  slieet.  approached  cautiously. 
"By  the  beard  of  the  prophet,  it's  a 
nel,"  Adam  said. 

"Where  in — where  did  you  get  it?"  Bill 
inded  impressed. 

"We  made  her,"  said  Candy,  in  what 
rned  out  to  be  a  hollow  baritone. 
Adam  turned  to  Bill.  "  William,  do  you  real- 
iwhat  this  means?  It  means  that  you  and  I 
5  going  to  the  ball  as  bachelors !  William — 
'are  stags!" 


"Magna  Charla!"  liill  whispered.  '"Ihe 
l-'ifth  Freeflom!  Let's  go!" 

The  dnb  wore  a  Rtfia  air.  Linhls  streamed 
across  the  parking  lot,  and  the  strains  of 
Sydney  Mulbourne's  Orchestra  throbbed  in 
the  warm  night  air.  Molly  exi)lainerl 
liirough  the  zipper  that  she  and  Candy 
wished  to  arrive  unattended. 

"We  don't  want  anyone  to  guess  who  wc 
are,"  Candy  added  thickly  from  the  rear. 

liill  cast  an  a|)praising  glance  u|M)n  llie 
rakish  form  of  Aunt  l-'lorence.  "  I  don't  think 
you  need  to  worry,"  he  assured  them,  and 
dei)arted  with  Adam,  their  skirls  llap|)ing 
jauntily. 

Molly  and  C  andy  held  a  mullled  confer- 
ence, which  resulted  in  a  detour  to  the  lirst 
tee,  a  scramble  through  a  thick  hedge  of 
e  vergreens,  and  a  sudden  appearance  u\xm 
the  edge  of  the  swimming  pcxjl.  'i'he  jiool  had 
t)een  transformed  into  a  Native  Quarter, 
brilliant  with  booths  and  strings  of  colored 
lights,  where  Arabian  girls  mingled  with 
sheiks  and  Bedouins.  ("Nobody  in  Mustard 
Hill  will  have  a  clean  bath  towel  tomorrow," 
Candy  [irophesied,  eying  masses  of  turbans 
through  her  starboard  peephole.) 

She  recognized  Lobby  Morgan,  in  the  uni- 
form of  the  Foreitn  Legion.  Pudye  Walburn 
was  repulsive  as  a  tattered  and  extremely 
dirty  beggar,  covered  with  what  appeared 
to  be  cocoa.  Amy  Bunnell,  hopelessly  con- 
fused as  usual,  was  wearing  a  pair  of  Turkish 
trousers,  and  a  yashmak  over  her  face.  ("No 
loss,"  observed  Molly,  from  the  front.) 

Before  one  of  the  booths  stood  a  young 
and  extraordinarily  handsome  young  man, 
smoking  a  cigarette  and  glowering  morosely 
from  under  a  turban;  obviously.  Candy  de- 
cided, somebody's  week-end  guest  who  pas- 
sionately wished  he  had  stayed  at  home. 

"Hey— look!"  Molly  commanded  sud- 
denly. "Over  on  the  terrace." 

Candy  peered.  On  the  terrace,  two  tour- 
ists were  walking,  arm  in  arm.  The  lady 
wore  an  outrageously  becoming  (iibson  Girl 
shirtwaist,  a  sweeping  skirl  and  a  perfectly 
charming  hat  trimmed  with  violets.  From 
time  to  time,  she  sniffed  delicately  at  a  bot- 
tle of  smelling  salts,  and  examined  the  crowd 
through  her  lorgnette.  Her  companion  wore 
a  boater,  an  Old  School  tie,  and  an  expres- 
sion of  condescending  detachment.  He  car- 
ried an  open  Baedeker. 


Candy  tuiid  i{rimly,  "Lily  dc  Foreut  and 
CliriHlopher!" 

Al  that  inHlant,  someone  sliouled,  "Hixjl 
mwi,  the  camels  are  tominK  I "  and  ihey  were 
surrmuuli  d  A  fkrdouin  chief  hlapiK-rl  Auni 
I-'loreuce  s(j  hearlily  on  the  haiiiirli.  I  , 
her  hind  Ickh  slaKgered.  One  of  i 
roared.  "  Ydu  fellows  are  niarvelou  .  ,  .  .  , . 
did  you  ever  (ind  il?" 

"I  hot  it's  Gerry  McCreery!"  wnneune 
else  s;iid  loudly. 

"No.  it's  Cieorge  iX-niing.  Is  llial  you  in 
Ihere,  George?" 

"  Who's  in  ihe  front?" 

"I  know  It's  Gerry  I. lust  like  him  to  " 

Amy  Bunnell's  voice  rose  above  the 
others:  "Well,  I  don't  care  who  it  is  I'm 
mad  alxnit  the  camel!  Carnel,  darling,  may 
I  have  the  next  dance?" 

Candy  |K)kefl  Molly  Jx-lween  Ihe  shoulder 
blades.  "Molly!  They  think  we're  wen!" 

From  Aunt  Florence's  front  came  an  evil 
chuckle.  "G(K)d!" growled  Molly.  "Ix-t  them 
think  so!"  The  camel,  led  by  its  Turkish 
partner,  entered  the  ballroom,  The  orches- 
tra, grinning  as  one  man,  burst  into  the 
strains  of  People  Will  Say  We're  in  I^jve. 
and  there  was  a  s|X)ntancous  burst  of  ap- 
plause. Amy  slipijcd  one  arm  around  the 
camel's  neck  and  began  to  guide  it  about 
thecrowded  fkxjr.  Aunt  Florence  was  dancing. 

Candy  struggled  desperately  to  follow  the 
front  legs;  it  was.  she  soon  found,  hopeless 
to  try  to  see  out  of  one  of  her  ix;epholes  at 
the  same  time.  After  live  minutes  of  lurch- 
ing, slipping  and  buffeting  she  gasped: 

"This  is  awful  -I  feel  as  though  I  were 
going  over  Niagara  in  a  barrel!" 

I  HAVE  never  been  so  hot  in  my  life," 
Molly  groaned.  "Not  even  in  South  Caro- 
lina in  August!  Can  you  hold  out?" 

"Don't  give  up  the  ship  of  the  desert!" 
Candy  gasped  bravely. 

Mercifully  someone  cut  in  on  Amy.  and 
they  were  able  to  shamble  to  the  edge  of  the 
ballroom.  They  stood,  panting,  dripping  and 
in  utter  darkness.  Candy,  however,  had  her 
eye  at  her  port  peephole;  and  as  she  watched, 
Lily  de  Forest  swept  across  her  vision,  danc- 
ing with  Christopher. 

"Molly!"  she  said.  "Lily!  Let's  cut  in!" 

Molly  peered  back  over  her  shoulder,  and 
in  the  gloom  of  Aunt  Florence's  interior,  the 


Olli«*r  Vi4>w.*<.  ^iixt'K  :inil  l*ri«M'K  4»f  \'«>;jii«'  I*:ill4>rn<< 
on  l*a;{4'K  i:M>  A-  l:t7 

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Vofjue  Design  N«i.  7675.  "Easy-to-Make"  one-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  38. 

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776  J 


7796 


today... 


i(r,l  lai, Id 
I  >i  a  n  any 

othrr  l>rand. 
An'j  ytju  Kivc 
•Uitavr  ")u%t 
•  ^  t#if 
N., 
''frak 
taLlcU,  ever  I 


k  !  , 

WORLD'S  LABGSST  SILLING 
ASPIKIN  FOR  CHILDREN 

Keep  it  handy  iii  the  iiicd 
icint  cabinet  always.  Get 
the  economical  39c  bottle 
today,  your  child  may 
need  it  tonight. 


•  Accurate 


Dosage 

•  Orange 
Flavor 

•  Creamy 
Tablet 


For  Your  famllys 
Regular  Aspirin 
Needs...'^^SV 


36  TABLETS  25< 

100  TABLETS  X9f 


12  TABLETS  I  Of 


^  drops -quUk  relief 


MAKE  THIS  SIMPLE  TEST  TODAY 

Why  not  shed  the  feeling 
of  tired  eyes  this  easy  way? 
Put  just  two  drops  of  Murine 
in  each  eye.  Gently  as  a 
tear,  Murine's  seven  tested 
ingredients  bathe  and  soothe  your 
eyes — and  in  seconds  they  feel 
cool  and  refreshed  again.  Murine 
makes  your  eves  feel  cood. 


MURINE 

-for  your  eyes 


'REG.  U.  S.  PATE.NT  OFFICE 


introduce  every  man  in  the  club!" 

"We  won't  let  her  alone  for  a  minute  " 

"If  Christopher  takes  her  outside   " 

"We'll  go  right  along,"  crowed  Candy. 
"W^hat  Lily  de  Forest  needs  more  than  any- 
thing in  the  world  is  a  pet  camel." 

"She  will  never,"  snarled  Molly,  "be 
lonely  again.  Are  you  ready?" 

With  one  accord — more  or  less — they 
lunged  forward  through  the  dancers.  Tlie 
camel  cut  in  on  Christopher,  to  the  delight 
of  the  other  dancers.  Lily  laughed  too;  she 
guided  her  new  partner  with  considerably 
more  dexterity  than  Amy  had  done— for  less 
than  a  minute.  Someone  tapped  Aunt  Flor- 
ence firmly  on  the  hump,  and  Bill  said 
fiercely,  under  his  breath: 

"Get  away,  you  fiends!  .  .  .  May  I  cut  in, 
please,  Lily?" 

The  camel,  after  a  slight  misunderstand- 
ing between  its  front  and  hind  legs,  managed 
to  go  off  in  one  direction  only.  The  direction 
was  that  of  Pudge  Walburn,  in  the  stag  line. 
The  camel,  as  it  were,  surrounded  him,  urg- 
ing him  through  the  dancers,  straight  up  to 
Lily  de  Forest. 

"Sorry,"  Pudge  said,  smiling  down  at  her. 
"You  don't  know  me,  but  this  beast  seems 
determined  that  you  shall.  My  name  is  Wal- 
burn. May  I  cut?" 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Walburn?"  Lily 
was  demure.  "1  am  Lily  de  Forest." 

"Oh,  I  know  who  you  are!"  said  Pudge. 
■"I've  been  looking  forward  " 

Adam  cut  in  on  Pudge.  The  camel  pro- 
duced a  peddler,  a  highly  decorated  diplo- 
mat and  two  sheiks,  in  rapid  succession, 
propelled  them  inexorably  through  the  danc- 
ers to  Lily,  and  left  them.  Lily,  looking 
deliciously  pink,  did  the  rest.  In  a  very  short 
lime,  men  were  coming  up  to  the  camel  and 
murmuring,  "Look  here,  fellahs,  you  care  to 
introduce  me?" 

By  midnight,  there  were  very  few  men  in 
Mustard  Hill  who  had  not  danced  with  Lily, 
and  none  who.  having  once  danced,  were  not 
returning  to  dance  with  her  again.  Chris- 
topher had  retired,  rather  sulkily,  to  a  table, 
where  he  sat  with  Bill  and  Adam.  Bill  had 
been  severely  stepped  on  by  the  camel's  hind 
feet.  He  did  not  look  happy. 

But  Lily  de  Forest  looked  very  happy 
indeed:  she  was  the  unquestioned  belle  of 
tlic  Labor  Dav  ball. 


we'll  have  meringue-baked  bananas.  The 
bananas  are  sprinkled  with  lemon  juice  and 
candied  ginger,  topped  with  pie  meringue  and 
baked  until  the  meringue  is  browned.  They 
can  be  served  cold  or  warm. 
These  recipes  will  serve  eight. 

BREAST  OF  CHICKEN  MEXICAINE 

4  Qpunds  «;hickeii  breasts,  fresh  or  frozen. 
Tnis  makes  ven^  generous  portions  and  you 
can  do  with  a  |little  less  if  you  like.  Put 
chicken  in  a  sauOsppan,  add  .3  cups  water  and 
1  tablespoon  salt.\cover  and  bring  to  a  boil. 
Lower  heat  to  sinnner  and  cook  until  tender. 
When  chicken  has  cooled  in  broth,  lake  it 
out  and  with  a  sharp-pointed  knife  carefully 
remove  bones.  All  .the  frozen  chicken  breasts 
I've  used  are  cut  into  large  pieces.  If  the 
breasts  are  whole,  remove  meat  from  bones 
in  large  pieces.  While  you  do  this,  boil  the 
broth,  uncover<^d,  until  it  is  reduced  to  2 
cups  and  stramj 

Melt  1  tablesipoon  butter  or  margarine  in  a 
skillet,  add  1  medium  Bermuda  onion,  finely 
chopped,  2  green  peppers,  finely  chopped, 
and  1  clove  garlic,  minced,  and  saute,  stirring 
often,  until  onion  is  transparent.  Add  a 
1-pound  can  tomatoes,  2  small  cans  drained 
button  mushrooms,  4  tablespoons  chopped 
parsley,  1  tea.spoon  sugar,  I  teaspoon  freshly 
groimd  black  pepper,  1  teaspoon  chili 
powder,  J4  teaspoon  orefiano  and  the  chicken 
broth.  Cook,  uncovered,  1.5  minutes  and  taste 
for  seasoning.  Add  salt  and  more  chili  powder 
to  taste.  I  never  like  to  say  exactly  how  much 
c-hili  powder  to  use,  because  it  varies  so 
greatly  in  strength,  and  also  individual  tastes 


hoarsely  to  Molly,  "If  I  don't  get  out  of 
this,  I  shall  burst  into  flames." 

"The  first  tee,"  said  Molly  succinctly. 

Back  of  the  first  tee,  Molly  undid  the 
zipper  with  a  moan  of  relief.  They  crawled 
out  and  flung  themselves  upon  the  cool, 
damp  grass,  too  exhausted  even  to  pant. 

Finally  Molly  spoke.  "Well— we  did  it!" 

"Molly."  Candy  spoke  in  the  darkness. 
"What  exactly  did  we  do?" 

Molly  sat  up.  "Why — we  fixed  Christo- 
pher!" 

"Did  we?  We  certainly  made  Lily  the 
toast  of  Mustard  Hill.  But  did  we  really  fix 
Christopher?  We  just  gave  him  a  lot  of 
competition — and  Lily  a  wonderful  time. 
Molly — I  think  Lily  has  won  after  all." 


□□□□□□□□GIQQQE! 


Even  though  a  husband  may  not  be 
superstitious,  he  should  always  pay 
attention  to  signs  when  his  wife 
makes  them!  — rebecca  perry 


'B  S  B  Q  El  EJ  El  B  El  B  B  El  B 


There  w-as  a  shocked  silence.  Then,  before 
Molly  could  speak,  there  was  the  sound  of 
voices  in  the  darkness,  very  close  at  hand. 

"         absolutely  sure  it's  Freddy?"  It 

was  Christopher. 

"Of  course  I'm  sure  it's  Freddy!  I  saw 
him ! "  There  was  a  note  of  hysteria  in  Lily's 
voice. 

Molly  reached  out  and  scooped  up  the 
body  of  Aunt  Florence.  Silently,  they  lay 
flat  under  the  branches  of  the  nearest  spruce. 
A  few  yards  away  two  figures  stood  by  the 
wooden  sandbox  on  the  first  tee. 

"He  was  just  standing  there  by  the  pool- 
lurking!  Spying!" 

"Sit  down,  Lily."  One  figure  sank  upon 
the  sandbox.  "Now  listen  to  me  " 

"I  hiow  he's  seen  me— and  he  hasn't 
danced  with  me !  He  hasn't  even  spoken  to 
me — not  once  all  evening!" 

"Now  look  here,  Lily  "  Christopher 

began  again. 

But  Lily  ignored  his  command  to  look 
there.  Tears  thickened  her  voice. 


Christopher  Bement!  To  tell  him  to  come 
because  I'd  be  there!  That  I  needed  him!  He 
comes — and  what  does  he  see?  That  I'm 
having  a  perfectly  marvelous  time!" 

"But  you've  said  all  along  you  could  man- 
age without  him.  You  said  " 

"Well,  I  can't  manage  without  him ! "  Lily 
sobbed. 

"I  kept  telling  you  you  couldn't."  Chris- 
topher sounded  irritable.  "But  you  in- 
sisted  " 

"I  did  not  insist!  It  was  yoii  who  in- 
sisted  " 

"You  sit  here,"  Christopher  said  desper- 
ately. "I'm  going  to  get  you  a  drink  of 
water." 

Candy  clutched  Molly's  wrist.  Together 
they  crawled  carefully  under  the  branches 
of  the  blue  spruce  and  emerged  on  the  other 
side  with  Aunt  Florence  bundled  between 
them.  Soundlessly,  they  started  off  across 
the  grass,  and  eventually  reached  the  rela- 
tive seclusion  of  the  tennis  house.  Getting 
back  into  Aunt  Florence  was  not  easy,  but 
they  managed  it.  The  camel  shook  its  hind 
legs,  settled  its  hump,  and  set  off  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  terrace. 

When  Candy  had  noticed  Mr.  Frederick 
de  Forest,  earlier  in  the  evening,  she  had 
thought  him  a  handsome  but  gloomy 
stranger  in  a  turban ;  however,  now  he  looked 
not  only  forbidding  but  definitely  distraught. 
He  was  watching  the  dance  floor,  and  it  was 
clear  that  he  did  not  approve  of  the  camel. 
He  declined,  with  chilly  courtesy,  to  move 
an  inch. 

"No,  thanks,  boys,"  he  said.  "I  don't 
want  to  dance.  No,  I  don't  want  a  drink 
either.  Thanks  very  much,  but — no." 

Abruptly,  the  camel  backed  into  him 
from  the  rear.  Candy  put  her  lips  to  her 
peephole  and  hissed  through  it,  "Lily  is  on 
the  first  lee."  Mr.  de  Forest  jumped  and 
looked  wdldly  at  Aunt  Florence's  right  hip- 
bone. "She's  crying,"  Candy  said.  Mr.  de 
Forest's  face  turned  wooden.  "For  you!  Lily 
is  crying  for  you !" 

"Where?"  said  Mr.  de  Forest  suddenly, 
with  a  note  of  extreme  urgency. 

The  camel  padded  off  the  terrace,  Mr.  de 
Forest  close  behind.  Once  more  they  crossed 
the  dark  grass  and  arrived  at  the  first  tee. 
On  the  sandbox,  a  small  figure  was  dimly 
visible;  from  it  came  a  steady  snififiing. 


rONVERSATIO^  PIECE 

( Continued  from  Page  148) 


vary  where  this  seasoning  is  concerned.  My 
feeling  is  that  this  sauce  should  have  a  chili- 
powder  flavor  but  that  it  should  be  slight. 
W  hen  you  are  satisfied  with  seasoning,  mix  1 
tablespoon  cornstarch  with  a  little  cold 
water,  add  to  sauce  and  cook,  stirring  con- 
stantly, 1  minute. 

Divide  pieces  of  chicken  breast  between 
the  eight  small  casseroles,  or  put  all  the 
chicken  in  one  large  shallow  casserole,  and 
spoon  sauce  over.  If  your  casseroles  do  not 
have  lids,  make  covers  of  aluminum  foil. 

All  this  can  be  done  the  day  before,  and  I 
certainly  advise  doing  it  then.  Store  the  cas- 
seroles in  the  refrigerator  overnight.  The 
mi  rning  of  the  luncheon  let  casseroles  .set  at 
room  temperature  a  couple  of  hours,  and  half 
an  hour  before  serving  put  them  in  a  hot — 
400°  F.— oven  until  bubbling  hot. 

MOLDED  GRAPE-AND- 
CLCUMBER  SALAD 
You  can  use  fresh  or  canned  seedless  grapes 
for  the  salad.  If  fresh,  wash  and  pick  over  4 
cups  grapes.  Add  1 cups  water  and  4  table- 
spoons sugar  and  boil  until  grapes  are  tender, 
about  4  minutes.  If  you  use  canned  grapes 
you  will  need  two  1-pound  cans. 

Drain  grapes,  reserving  juice.  Chop,  fairly 
finely,  2]/^  cups  cucumbers.  Add  water  to 
juice  to  make  23^2  cups  in  all.  Soak  2  enve- 
lopes utiflavored  gelatin  in  !^  cup  of  this 
liquid  .5  minutes.  Bring  remaining  2  cups 
liquid  to  a  boil,  add  gelatin,  stir  until  dis- 
solved and  add  2  teaspoons  salt  and  t  table- 
spoons vinegar.  Stir  in  a  few  drops  of  green 
vegetable  coloring  and  when  cold  mix  with 


grapes  and  cucumbers.  Let  mixture  cool  un- 
til it  begins  to  thicken  a  little. 

Rub  interiors  of  custard  cups  or  molds  with 
salad  oil  and  fill  to  the  brim.  My  custard  cups 
hold  a  little  more  than  %  cup  and  this  recipe 
fills  eight.  You  can  add  a  little  more  chopped 
cucumber  if  your  molds  aren't  filled  to  the 
brim. 

Make  a  day  in  advance  and  store  in  re- 
frigerator. Unmold  salads  in  advance  of  serv- 
ing lime  so  that  when  you're  ready  to  arrange 
plates  this  job  will  be  behind  you;  Surround 
each  salad  with  lettuce  leaves  and  perhaps 
some  fancy  slices  of  cucumber. 

CREAM-CHEESE  DRESSING 
Mix  together  until  smooth  J  2  pound  cream 
cheese,  H  cup  milk,  3  tablespoons  vinegar,  1 
teaspoon  salt  and  1^2  teaspoons  sugar.  The 
consistency  is  a  little  thinner  than  mayon- 
naise. Try  this  dressing  on  grapefruit- 
and-orange  salad  sometime — I  think  you'll 
like  it. 

CHIVE-BLTTER  SANDWICHES 

To  14:  pound  softened  butter  or  margarine 
add  4  tablespoons  finely  chopped  chives  and 
blend.  Remove  crusts  from  thinly  sliced 
bread,  spread  one  slice  generously  with  this 
mixture,  lop  with  another  slice  and  cut  into 
strips.  Or  spread  slice  and  roll. 

The  sandwiches  can  be  made  in  advance, 
then  wrapped  in  wax  paper  and  a  slightly 
damp  towel  and  stored  in  refrigerator. 
Rolled  sandwiches  nuitit  be  kepi  in  the  re- 
frigerator so  thai  the  butter  or  margarine 
will  harden. 


Mr.  de  Forest  walked  forward  rather  quickly. 
The  sniffling  stopped.  Then  

"Oh,  Freddy!  Fr«'rfrf>',  darling!" 

Aunt  Florence  trotted  off  toward  the 
parking  lot,  her  feet  stumbling  with  weari- 
ness. She  wore  the  modest  but  triumphant 
air  of  a  camel  who  has  marched  alone  across 
the  Sahara,  against  overwhelming  odds.  , 

The  telephone  bell  jolted  Candy  awake.. 
Sunshine  striped  the  floor,  and  Bill  was  say-, 
ing  hello  with  his  eyes  tight  shut.  He  held 
out  the  receiver  at  arm's  length,  as  though 
it  were  a  hooded  cobra.  ^ 

"Molly,"  he  croaked.  "She  says  she  has, 
news  for  you  that  can't  wait.  If  they've 
elected  her  chairman  of  the  Community 
Chest  Fund,  I'm  going  to  move  to  Moscow." 

"Darling!"  Molly  gurgled.  "Have  you 
heard?" 

"How  could  I  have  heard?  "  Candy  was  a 
bit  waspish.  "What?" 

"What  happened  after  we  left?  Lily  and 
Christopher  won  the  first  prize — four  tickets 
to  that  new  revue ! " 

"Did  you  call  me  up  just  to  " 

"Christopher  just  stopped  by  to  leave  the 
tickets — on  his  way  to  the  airport.  He  said 
that  Lily  insisted  that  the  camel  should 
have  them." 

"Airport?"  Candy  repeated  blankly. 

"Oh,  yes— I  forgot  to  tell  you.  He  said  he 
was  flying  to  Paris.  Today." 

"Oh."  There  was  a  long,  long  pause.  Then 
Candy  said,  "Molly,  we'll  have  to  tell  her 
ive  were  the  camel."  ^ 

"She's  gone.  She  and  Freddy  left  together. ^ 
The  Oliphant  house  is  closed.  But,  Candy — I 
don't  think  we'll  have  to.  Candy  " 

"Yes?" 

"She  said" — there  was  the  sound  of  a  ^ 
deep  breath — "Lily  said  the  judges  had: 
made  a  mistake.  That  was  her  message.  She^ 
sent  the  camel  her  love  and  said,  "The  judges 
were  wTong.' " 

There  was  an  even  longer  pause.  Then 
Candy  murmured,  "Well  .  .  .  I'm  sorry  you 
were  wakened  so  early." 

"Oh,  I  got  up  early  anyway — to  write  my 
autobiography,"  said  Molly.  "Not  to  be 
published  for  seventy-five  years." 

Candy  snuggled  into  her  pillow.  "You  can 
call  it  Inside  Aunt  Florence,  dear.  And  don 'I 
lose  those  tickets! " 


MERINGUE-BAKED  BANANAS 
Allow  1  banana  for  each  serving.  Cut  in  half 
the  long  way,  fit  halves  together  side  by  side, 
and  arrange  on  cooky  sheet.  Each  two  halves 
of  banana  will  be  one  serving.  Be  sure  to 
leave  space  between  these  servings  so  that 
they  will  be  easy  to  take  up.  Sprinkle  with 
lemon  juice  and  dot  generously  with  tiny 
pieces  of  candied  ginger. 

Beat  6  egg  whites  with  J  3  teaspoon  salt  un- 
til frothy;  add       teaspoon  cream  of  tartar 
and  beat  until  stiff.  Add,  1  teaspoon  at  a 
time,  7  tablespoons  very  fine  sugar,  beating  1 
constantly.  W  hen  all  sugar  has  been  used,  1 
add  1  teaspoon  vanilla  and  beat  a  little  | 
longer.  Divide  meringue  evenly  among  the  8 
bananas;  spread  it  over  the  whole  surface, 
but  don't  make  it  smooth.  You  can  get  a  very 
fancy  effect  with  a  pastry  tube,  but  that's  a 
lot  of  bother  and  takes  more  time.  Bake  in  ' 
a  moderately  low — 325°  F. — oven  It  or  15 
minutes,  or  until  meringue  is  nicely  browned. 
Allow  to  cool  slowly  if  you  are  going  to  serve 
bananas  cold.  If  you  want  them  warm,  turn 
off  oven  after  baking  and  leave  them  there 
until  serving  time. 

Service.  I'm  assuming  that  you  will  want 
to  serve  at  two  card  tables,  so  here's  a  sug- 
gestion for  table  decoration.  Make  an  old-  j 
fashioned  nosegay  with  a  paper  frill  for  the  i 
center  of  each  table  and  a  tiny  nosegay  for 
each  place.  Use  very  lacy  paper  doilies  for 
the  frills  and  a  variety  of  small  flowers  for  the 
bouquets.  Your  tables  will  look  pretty  and  ; 
the  small  nosegays  can  be  favors  for  your 
guests  to  take  home.  THE  END  ! 


((  (mliniifil  firam  I'tin,  I  'I) 


lift.  I )ialK'tt's occurs  wlii  ii  tlic  pancreas  fails 
U)  supply  cuoukIi  insulin,  or  porliajis  llu-  in- 
sulin is  (Icslroycd  in  the  body.  In  citliiT 
event,  tlio  basal  initalxilisni  the  rale  at 
wliicli  llie  Ixxly  "burns"  its  f(K)d  is  af- 
fected. Su^;ar  accuniulales  in  the  blood  and 
urine;  the  rest  of  the  ixxly  is  starved  of  vital 
f(H)<l  eleinetUs.  There  was  a  tremendous  ad- 
vance in  medicine  and  in  saving  human  lives 
when  Doctor  Mantinn  found  the  way  lo 
supply,  in  tliosi'  vvhoiu'cd  it,  the  extra  insulin 
wliicii  enables  the  IkkIv  organs  to  do  tiieu 
work. 

I  havi'  little  patience  with  mothers  who 
coinplam  that  they  can't  bear  the  thouuhl  of 
iimny.  little  jimmy  or  Susie  a  ^shot  "  every 
cla>'.  Why  not,  when  il  means  a  normal, 
healthy  lile  instead  of  inv<ilidism  and  jiossibly 
death?  The  price  is  a  small  one  indeed  to  pay. 
When  the  parents  havi'  the  ri^hl  attitude,  the 
daily  shot  of  insulin  can  come  lo  be  l(K)ked 
uiK)n  as  a  privilege  rather  than  a  burden. 

I  believe  in  teaching  childri'ii  lo  n:ive  them- 
selves these  injections  at  the  earliest  possible 
UKC.  That  way  lln-y  c|uickly  ,i,'ain  undersland- 
inu  of  their  needs  and  soon  become  remark- 
ably independent  in  the  supt'rvision  of  Iheir 
own  care.  Of  course  the  a^e  at  which  this  may 
he  done  varies  with  Ihe  maturity  of  the  indi- 
vidual child.  I  have  seen  youngsters  of  six 
who  coolly  assumed  full  responsibility  for 
their  insulin  injections.  I  have  known  other 
youn^slers  of  twelve  to  whom  I  would  have 
been  afraid  to  assi^;n  this  duly. 

Mostly,  I  believe,  tlit'  difference  lies  in  the 
parents  and  not  in  the  children  themselves. 
Parents  who  '"^^o  lo  pieces"  when  they  dis- 
covc  their  child  has  diabetes,  and  who  insist 
3ri  babyini;  him  forever  after,  may  do  ir- 
reparable harm.  Diabetic  children  need 
watchful  supervision,  of  course,  but  they 
liave  ihe  same  rij^ht  to  "be  on  their  own"  as 
nondiabetics.  The  diabetic  youn^^ster  can  be 
made  tore^ard  hisown  care  as  a  "grown-up" 
responsibility  -a  privilege  to  be  earned  by 
nature  behavior,  like  buying  his  own  shoes 
md  school  supplies. 


As  m  the  case  of  the  daily  injection  of  in- 
sulin, the  controlled  diet  is  a  resixmsibilil y 
that  must  Ih>  sharerl  by  ihe  parc^nts  and  the 
child. 

In  Ihe  best  of  children  there  may  Ix-  oc- 
casional lapses,  riie  youngsler  who  "cheats" 
by  taking  forbidden  candy  or  sweets  must  lx> 
made  lo  understand  that  he  is  hurling  him- 
self. This  can  never  Ix-  accom|)lisluxl  by 
threats  of  |)unishment.  Instead,  the  child 
should  be  told  of  the  harm  that  may  result. 
His  condition  should  be  explained  lo  liini  as 
far  as  one  can  to  a  child  of  his  age.  In  this 
way  proper  eating  habits  become  a  desirable 
goal  rather  than  a  hated  restriction. 

One  privilege  open  to  the  normal  child 
must  be  denied  tlu' diabetic  one  the  right  to 
skip  a  meal  now  and  then.  The  doctor  care- 
hilly  prescribes  the  kind  and  amount  of  in- 
sulin lo  tx'  given,  ui)on  the  basis  of  the 
amount  of  food  the  child  will  presumably  eat . 
When  this  varies,  the  child  may  suffer  in- 
sulin reaction  headache,  dizziness,  sweat- 
ing, trembling.  In  severe  cases,  unconscious- 
ness may  ensue.  These  symptoms  are  caused 
by  an  excessive  amount  of  insulin  in  propor- 
tion to  the  amount  of  food  "burned"  by  Ihe 
lx)dy. 

If  an  insulin  reaction  occurs,  the  child 
should  be  given  cerlain  foods  immediately. 
These  will  depend  upon  the  kind  of  insulin 
being  used,  whether  it  is  short-acting,  or  the 
long-acting  protamine  zinc  insulin.  Your  doc- 
tor will  suggest  the  emergency  foods  he 
would  like  you  to  give;  usually,  candy, 
orange  juice  or  sugar  is  used  lo  restore  the 
sugar  level.  These  episodes  are  disturbing,  of 
course,  but  wise  parents  will  use  them  to  im- 
l^ress  the  child  anew  with  the  im|X)rlance  of 
being  careful  about  his  eating  habits.  Tears 
and  recriminations  have  no  part  in  the  pic- 
ture. 

Informed,  calm  and  loving  parents  can 
teach  the  diabetic  child  to  get  along  with  his 
disease  and  refuse  to  be  handicapped  by  it. 
The  wonderful  thing  is  that  he  can  look  for- 
ward to  a  long  and  happy  life. 


OUR  KEAIIKIIS  WRITE  I 

(Continued  from  Page  i') 


(  hiitsworth,  Hadden  Hall,  and  Harewood 
House,  home  of  George  VI's  sister,  the 
I'l  iiK-ess  Royal.  These  houses  are  beautiful 
and  contain  an  endless  treasure  of  pictures 
and  tapestries. 

But  tucked  away,  in  country  places  off 
tlie  beaten  track,  are  others  well  worth  vis- 
iting. Skipton  Castle,  in  Yorkshire,  built 
iu  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VIII.  is  on  the 
way  up  to  Scotland,  and  so  is  Lindisfarne 
Castle,  on  Holy  Island  in  Northumber- 
land, once  a  ruin,  now  turned,  by  the  archi- 
tect Sir  Edwin  Luytens,  into  the  sort  of 
dream  castle  imagined  in  fairy  tales,  but 
seldom  seen. 

Visitors  are  warmly  welcomed  in  all 
these  places.  It  is  not  unknown  for  the 
Ixjna  fide  traveler  to  be  shown  round  by 
the  owner  on  a  day  that  is  not  the  bona 
fide  opening  day.  Owners  of  beautiful 
things  are  never  averse  to  having  them  ad- 
mired, and  aflliction  has  made  the  once  re- 
served Englishman  a  lot  less  reserved  than 
once  he  was.  Besides,  living  in  a  moated 
castle  is  often  a  lonely  business. 

And  for  anyone  visiting  Scotland,  pre- 
pared to  forgo  the  usual  treat  of  festival 
and  town,  there  is  a  whole  new  experience 
waiting.  Time  marches  on.  but  in  rural 
Scotland  it  has  not  marched  as  fast  as 
elsewhere.  Craigivar  Castle  still  stands  on 
its  hillside  in  Aberdeenshire,  a  feudal  keep, 
unaltered  and  untouched.  It  has  one  en- 
trance only,  no  back  or  side  door.  This 
made  it  easy  to  defend,  but  has  domestic 
drawbacks.  At  one  laird's  funeral,  the 
coffin  was  being  borne  out  when  unfortu- 
nately the  laundry  arriv  ed  and  was  being 
brought  in.  The  narrow  passages  allow  of 
no  passing. 

The  towers  have  slots  through  which 
the  ladies  of  the  house  poured  boiling  wa- 
ter onto  uninvited  guests,  and  in  the  tall 
pine  woods  about  the  castle  the  capercail- 
lie  nest.  (The  size  and  build  of  a  large  tur- 
key, this  bird  is  never  seen  farther  south. 


Should  you  happen  to  .shoot  one,  its  crop 
must  be  immediately  slit  and  emptied  of 
pine  needles  and  young  pine  shoots,  and 
an  onion  inserted.  Otherwise  the  stew  will 
be  strongly  flavored  like  pine-tar  soap.) 

Then  to  north  and  the  west,  for  those 
with  time  to  spare,  lies  the  Isle  of  Skye.  It 
is  reached  by  the  ferry  from  the  Kyles  of 
Loch  Alshe.  The  time  to  visit  Dunvegan 
Castle  is  early  summer,  when  the  bluebells 
are  out  and  the  rhododendrons  and  azaleas 
make  a  never-to-be-forgotten  design  on  a 
carpet  of  blue.  Far  off  there  will  be  a  piper 
playing,  practicing  for  the  piping  contests, 
and  he  will  surely  be  a  Macrimmond.  For 
the  Macrimmonds  are  hereditary  pipers  to 
the  Clan  MacLeod,  since  the  day  when 
the  MacLeod  official  piper  got  drunk 
Before  a  contest.  There  was  no  one  to 
enter  the  contest  for  the  MacLeods,  and 
for  pride's  sake  they  put  in  a  Macrim- 
mond boy,  who  had  no  skill  at  all.  But  the 
fairies  took  over,  and  such  music  came 
from  the  Macrimmond's  pipes  as  has 
never  been  heard  before  or  since. 

All  this  and  other  tales  they  will  tell 
you,  in  voices  soft  as  the  water  in  the 
moorland  burns.  This  is  the  country  of 
gentle  manners,  and  Gaelic  music,  and 
infinite  leisure,  where  the  men  wear  kilts 
and  a  handy  knife  in  their  stocking,  the 
skean  dhu.  Where  the  far  CuiHins  have  a 
way  of  putting  love  on  the  stranger,  so 
that  he  fulfills  the  old  saying,  and  having 
once  visited  the  island,  must  return  again 
and  again. 

Hope  you  all  have  a  lovely  visit. 

Love, 
DOROTHY  BLACK 

►  Information  and  routes  can  lie  obtained 
from  the  British  Travel  and  Holidays  As- 
sociation, 61—65  St.  James  Street,  Lou- 
don, S.  W .  I,  or  336  Madison  Avenue, 
iVeic  York.  ED. 


Dial  Soap 

3[)S  comnlcxions 
dearer  l)y  kc 


skill  cJeaiicrl 


Diiil's  /1 7-7  {llvxinhlontplH'tn')  rt'iintvrn  hh-ntinh- 

itftretuJinfj;  harlcria  thiil  ttllivr  soapn  leave  on  nkin. 

'l  lu-  eieaner  your  Hkin.  the  Itelter  your  e<.iii|(l<  \if.n.  \ii<l  iiiiM,  fragrant 
Dial  uilli  \  T-T  fiets  your  nkin  cleaner  anil  ejearer  lliaii  any  oilier  kiurl  .,f 
soap.  li  s  as  simple  as  that.  Of  <  oiir-.-  Dial  s  lilaiid  lu-tiiily-rredni  lalh.  r 

f.'eiilly  removes  dirl  and  make-up.  gi\ irig  you  s<  ru|iui<.UH  elearilineHS 
to  overcome  elofiged  j)ores  ami  l>la<  klieads.  iiiil  Dial  <I<m-h  far  morel 

Here's  the  im|)ortant  dilference:  v^hen  you  uh«  Dial  every  dav, 
its  AT-T  elTeeliveiy  clears  *kiu  of  l)aeteria  that  often  afrjrravate  ami  spread 
surface  pimples  and  hletnishes.  .'^kin  doeiors  know  this  aud  re<  ommeMfi 
Dial  for  both  adults  and  adole.sceutH. 

Protect  your  rotnplexion  ivith  fine,  fragrant  Dial  .Soap. 

DIAL  DAVE  GARROWAY- NBC,  Weekday! 

Now  nvailtihle.  in  Canada 


BEDROOM 

I?'jkl4' 


'TOGRAPHS  BY   EZRA  STOLLER;   FRAN'CIS   A.   COMSTOCK,  ARCHITECT 


A  large  idea  for  Utile  houses  which  beautifies 

your  home  and  brightens  your  life 
at  a  cost  you  can  easily  afford. 


Small  house  with  one  glamorous  room 


See  what  tlie  lowness  ol'  the  entianrc  lialluavV  (lrii|i|>iMl  ccilin;;  fh>f>  to  llie  liigliiiess  where  the  hlue  begins''' 


It  is  like  having  the  skv  above  you  in  tlie  Hving 
room  of  this  house.  The  light  by  day  is  thrilling, 
by  night  it  is  theatri^j^The  air  is  always  fresh 
and  abundant.  The  room  is  amazingly  quiet, 
even  with  a  crowd.  It  is  evenly  warm  in  winter 
and  evenly  cool  in  summer,  moderating  the 
temperature  of  the  whole  house.  In  addition, 
the  extra  ceiling  height  gives  to  the  outside  of 
the  house  a  special  style  and  distinction. 

As  you  can  see,  that  all  amounts  to  quite  a 
lot  in  looks,  luxury,  comfort,  liealth.  But  what 
you  may  be  surprised  to  hear  is  that  in  this  case 
the  extra  cost  came  to  less  than  3  per  cent  of 
the  price  of  the  house.  In  a  $15,000  house  that 
would  be  about  $400;  maybe  -SI. 60  a  month  on 
average  payments.  It  is  something  to  keep  in 
mind  when  you  build,  buy,  rent  or  plan  a  home. 

The  architect-owner  here  feels  high  ceilings 
arfe"^  natural  for  small  bouses,  but  for  the  main 
room  only,  where  thev  make  a  dramatic  contrast 
and  create  air  circulation.  To  get  the  full  effect 
in  every  way,  he  thinks  one  wall  should  be  of 
glass.  In  his  opinion  this  window  wall  should 
face  southeast,  in  order  to  capture  onK  tiie 
pleasantest  part  of  the  sunlight  the  year  round. 
He  controls  the  sunlight  by  means  of  split- 
bamboo  shades,  hung  outside  and  somewhat 
away  from  the  glass;  the  cheapest  and  most  effi- 
cient method,  as  when  desired  the  heat  is  kept 
off  the  glass  as  well  as  out  of  the  room. 

Stepping  up  into  a  high-ceilinged  room  is  most 
effective;  stepping  f/oH/i  least  effective.  Here  the 
floor  level  is  the  same  throughout  the  house,  the 
ceiling  height  elsewhere  in  the  house  a  normal 
seven  and  a  half  feet,  except  in  the  hallway  just 
before  you  enter  the  living  room.  There  the 
ceiling  drops  to  six  and  a  half  feet,  to  build  the 
room's  height  up  to  the  biggest  possible  climax. 

By  RICHARD  PRATT 

Architectural  Editor  of  the  Journal 


A    I>    I    K    S  •       II    (,    M    ,.;       J    „    „    „    ^,    ^  I 


I     \    1)    I    F,    S  •       II    I)    \l    i:       .1    <)    U    R    N    A  L 


January,  195. 


TELL  iME.  TOR 

(Continued  from  Page  19) 


herself  into  a  mess— I  imagine  more  than 
you  reahze.  She  is  a  sick  .i^irl.  I  haven't  had 
the  opportunity  to  investigate,  but  I'll 
guarantee  she's  running  a  temperature — 
probably  a  very  higli  one.  If  you  want  to 
walk  out  of  this  room  because  I  appear  to 
have  criticized  your  methods  in  rearing  your 
daughter,  that  is  yoLir  privilege:  and  I  can't 
prevent  il,  although  I  shall  be  sorry.  But  if 
you  want  help  in  what  I  am  pretty  sure  is  a 
very  serious  situation.  \  ou  will  tell  me  a  little 
more.  I  could  be  wrong,  but  I  suspect  your 
daughter  has  been  tamperuig  with  her  vital 
organs— or  has  had  ihem  tampered  with — 
and  the  result  may  become  more  serious  than 
you  imagine." 

"That's  just  the  point!"  Mrs.  Gray  ex- 
claimed. 

"What's  just  the  point?"  the  doctor  in- 
sisted gently.  "Maybe  it's  important.  Please 
try  to  calm  down  and  toll  me." 

Mrs.  Gray  wiped  her  eyes  and  repeated. 
"That's  just  the  point.  Flo  didn't  do  any- 
thing to  herself.  /  had  it  done  to  her." 

If  the  doctor  experienced  any  surprise,  he 
was  too  old  a  hand  to  show  it.  "Suppose  you 
tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  Doctor,  after  my  daughter  told  me  what 
had  happened,  and  that  she  had  missed  two 
periods,  you  can  imagine  that  I  was  upset." 

"  I  can't  imagine  anything  much  more  up- 
setting." 

"I  took  her  to  our  family  doctor,  and  he 
said  she  was  pregnant.  He  wouldn't  do  any- 
thing about  it,  and  then  I  didn't  know  what 
lo  do.  A  friend  of  mine  once  had  an  operation 
performed  for  a  pregnancy.  I  remembered 
the  name  of  the  man  who  did  it.  and  I  called 


Miss  Mellon  was  the  dramatics  teacher 
who  was  coaching  the  play.  In  the  beginning 
she  told  Stu  and  Shirley  to  see  a  lot  of  each 
other,  to  get  really  well  aoijuainted  with  each 
other  so  that  they  would  feel  natural  and 
easy  together.  It  wasjkind  of  embarrassing. 
But  in  a  way,  it  was  like  a  challenge. 

Shirley  was  wailing  expectantly,  but  wait- 
ing, and  Stu  looked  at  her  with  a  grin. 
"Well,"  he  said,  "in  that  case  I  suppose  I'd 
better  drive  you  home." 

"  If  I  can  stand  it,  I  guess  you  can."  Shirley 
made  a  face  at  him.  It  was  a  cute  face.  At 
one  point  in  the  play  where  they  had  a  kind 
of  teasing  scene,  she  made  that  same  face. 

Something  happened  to  Stu  right  then.  He 
remembered  that  he  had  to  kiss  her  in  the 
play  too.  There  was  a  little  flicker  in  Shirley's 
eyes,  and  Stu  was  sure  she  was  remembering 
too.  His  heart  began  to  beat  faster. 

"The  show  must  go  on,"  he  said. 
^  After  that  it  was  easy  to  ask  her  for  a  date. 
He'cf^hbrie  and  say,  " Mellon 's  orders,"  and 
Shirley  would  groan  comically,  but  he 
thought  she  didn't  accept  just  because  of 
Mellon. 

The  Lunts  came  to  town  in  a  new  play, 
and  Miss  Mellon  suggested  that  it  would  be 
a  wonderful  idea  if  they  could  go  to  see  them 
and  study  their  technique.  At  a  matinee,  she 
said.  And  tactfully  she  offered  to  get  the 
tijckets  for  them. 

Sti!  muttered  that  he'd  have  to  see.  He 
worked  Saturdays.  Later  he  phoned  Shirley 
and  said  he  had  tickets  for  Saturday  night. 
He  was  pretty  excited.  He  had  never  taken 
a  girl  on  that  kind  of  date  before. 

"Saturday  night!"  she  exclaimed. 

The  excitement  vanished,  leaving  him 
kind  of  sick.  He  was  a  dope  for  not  asking 
her  first.  She  had  another  date,  of  course. 

"Maybe  I  could  change  the  tickets  for  the 
afternoon,"  he  said  dully. 

"But  you  work  Saturday  afternoons." 

"The  play  comes  first!"  he  said  with  a 
feeble  imitation  of  Miss  Mellon. 

"In  that  case,"  Shirley  said  swiftly,  "I'll 
break  my  date." 

"No!"  He  felt  violently  that  he  didn't 
want  her  to  do  it. 


him  up  and  made  an  appointment.  He 
examined  Flo  and  said  she  was  pregnant,  but 
that  he  didn't  do  abortions.  He  knew  some- 
one who  did,  however,  and  it  would  cost  a 
thousand  dollars.  I  could  jjay  him,  he  said, 
but  it  would  have  to  be  in  cash. 

"I  drew  the  money  out  of  the  bank  and 
paid  it  to  this  man.  and  then  took  Flo  to  the 
address  he  gave.  It  was  out  of  the  city,  a 
horrible  old  brownstone  house.  The  nurse 
put  Flo'  on  the  table  and  did  some  sort  of  a 
preparation  on  her,  and  then  the  doctor- 
well,  anyway,  he  was  supposed  to  be  a 
doctor— appeared.  He  wore  a  long  gown  and 
a  mask  that  covered  his  entire  head  except 
his  eyes,  and  he  had  dark  glasses  " 

"Do  you  think  it  was  the  same  man  to 
whom  you  paid  the  money? "  interrupted  the 
doctor. 

"I  didn't  see  anything  of  him  to  recog- 
nize—not even  his  shoes*  his  gown  was  %) 
long.  He  w-as  about  the  same  height,  how- 
ever. Well,  he  used  some  instruments  which 
the  nurse  brought  him  in  a  sterilizer — and 
that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him.  The  nurse 
gave  Flo  a  big  drink  of  whisky  and  called  a 
cab  and  we  came  home.  Flo  bled  a  little,  but 
not  very  much  until  the  packing  came  out, 
when  she  bled  a  lot.  Then  it  stopped,  but 
she's  been  complaining  of  pain  low  down  in 
her  abdomen  ever  since.  Did  you  ever  hear 
of  such  an  awful  experience.  Doctor?  " 

"  Unfortunately,  many  times,"  was  the  un- 
expected reply.  "It's  the  usual  story.  The 
scamps  have  the  money,  your  daughter  has 
an  infection;  and  the  worst  of  it  is,  you 
couldn't  swear  to  the  identity  of  the  one  who 
did  it.  Could  vou?" 


"I'm  afraid  not.  I  didn't  see  his  face." 

"He  saw  to  it  that  you  didn't.  This  hap- 
pened a  week  ago?" 

"A  little  longer  than  that.  If  I've  gone  and 
killed  my  daughter  " 

"  I  doubt  if  it  is  as  bad  as  that— she  seems 
very  much  alive.  A  serious  matter,  but  far 
from  hopeless.  Ten  years  ago,  or  even  five,  it 
might  have  been  critical.  Now,  thank  God, 
we  have  penicillin." 

"Mrs.  Brown  told  me  how  you  fixed  her 
up  with  an  operation." 

"I  have  an  idea  that  this  is  an  entirely 
different  kind  of  case.  I  will  be  able  to  tell 
you  as  soon  as  I  have  made  an  examination." 

It  was  nearly  a  half  hour  before  the  doctor 
was  able  to  make  his  report  to  the  now  thor- 
oughly frightened  woman. 

"It  is  about  as  I  thought,"  he  told  her. 
"Your  daughter  is  undoubtedly  infected. 
Her  temperature  is  102.5  degrees,  pulse  120. 
The  uterus  is  exquisitely  sensitive.  Both  the 
broad  ligaments  have  been  invaded.  They 
are  as  thick  as  my  hand  and  as  hard  as, a 
board.  The  only  fortuitous  circumstance  is 
that  she  has  had  no  chill." 

"I  don't  understand  what  that  means." 

"  It  means  that  although  the  infection  has 
passed  beyond  the  limits  of  the  uterus,  and  is 
involving  the  lymphatic  supply,  it  has  not  as 
yet  entered  the  general  blood  stream.  In 
other  words,  it  is  localizing." 

"But  that  is  serious,  isn't  it?" 

"Serious  enough." 

"Are  you  going  to  operate.  Doctor?" 
"By  no  means." 

"But  you  operated  on  my  friend.  Mrs. 
Brown." 


(Conlinued  from  Page  61) 


"  I  insist,"  she  cried.  "  It's  nothing.  Really. 
It  isn't  important." 

In  the  end,  of  course,  he  agreed,  but  there 
wasn't  much  satisfaction  in  it. 

When  he  called  for  Shirley  on  Saturday, 
she  was  all  dressed  up.  He  had  never  seen 
Shirley  so  dressed  up.  Comey,  Shirley's  little 
sister,  said  solemnly,  "You  look  like  a  movie 
star.  Shir."  And  she  did,  bright  and  shining, 
and  out  of  this  world. 

Shirley's  whole  family  had  assembled  to 
see  her  off— her  mother  and  father,  her 
brother  David,  and  Comey,  who  was  going 
to  look  like  a  movie  star  one  day  herself.  It 
seemed  to  Stu  that  they  were  all  telling  him 
to  take  good  care  of  their  Shirley,  and  it 
brought  a  lump  to  his  throat.  Or  maybe  it 
was  just  Shirley  who  brought  the  lump.  It 
made  talking  difficult,  but  when  they  were 
ready  to  go,  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Brown  feeling 
that  he  had  to  say  something. 

"Don't  worry,"  he  said,  "I  drive  care- 
fully." 

"  I  won't  worry,  not  when  she's  with  you," 
Mrs.  Brown  said.  It  was  as  if  she  had  given 
Shirley  to  him. 

And  then  he  helped  Shirley  into  the  car 
and  they  drove  off,  and  everything  changed. 
All  he  could  remember  was  that  Shirley  had 
had  a  date  for  this  evening,  and  she  was 
going  with  him  only  because  of  Miss  Mellon. 

Shirley  didn't  seem  to  notice  how  he  felt. 
She  chattered  on  about  the  Lunts,  and  the 
play,  and  the  reviews  that  she  had  read  in 
the  newspapers.  He  answered  politely.  He 
even  laughed  a  bit,  and  made  some  cracks. 
Shirley  did  that  to  him.  She  always  made  him 
play  a  scene  the  way  il  ought  to  be  played, 
and  this  scene  was  supposed  to  be  light  and 
fast-moving.  But  inside  he  was  hurt  and 
bitter,  without  exactly  knowing  why.  He 
wanted  badly  to  show  her  how  he  fejt,  and 
at  the  same  time  he  was  horrified  to  think 
that  he  might. 

When  the  lignts  went  out  in  the  theater 
and  the  curtain  went  up,  the  hurt  and  bitter- 
ness began  to  melt.  Maybe  it  was  the  magic 
of  the  theater.  Maybe  it  was  because  Shirley 
was  leaning  close  to  him,  to  see  better  be- 
tween the  people  ahead,  of  course,  but  when 


he  turned  his  head  to  look  at  her,  she  felt  it, 
and  smiled  at  him.  Then  with  the  play  going 
on,  with  the  fascinating  Lunts  up  there  in 
front  of  them  on  the  stage,  so  wonderful  that 
Stu  wanted  to  look  at  them  hard  to  see  them 
better,  to  listen  with  all  his  ears,  to  get  them 
inside  of  him  someway,  so  that  they'd  be 
part  of  him  that  he'd  always  remember— 
with  all  that  then,  instead  of  watching  them. 
Stu  turned  and  put  his  mouth  close  to  Shir- 
ley's ear  and  asked: 

"  Did  you  break  your  date  for  tonight  just 
because  of  Mellon?  " 

Shirley  looked  at  him,  and  in  the  darkness 
with  her  face  so  close  to  his,  something  was 
happening  to  him.  Her  eyes  were  traveling 
over  his  face  as  if  she  could  see  what  was 
happening.  She  wasn't  in  any  hurry  to 
answer.  She  didn't  seem  to  mind  that  they 
were  missing  some  of  that  precious  genius  at 
work.  "No,"  she  said  softly,  "not  just  be- 
cause of  Mellon."  That's  all. 

They  both  turned  their  faces  to  the  stage 
then,  and  Stu  reached  over  and  her  hand  was 
ready  for  his,  and  he  held  it  through  the  rest 
of  the  play. 

After  the  show  they  talked  excitedly  about 
the  technique,  the  bits  of  business,  the  tricks 
of  speech,  the  something  that  you  couldn't 
put  a  name  to.  Did  you  notice?  .  .  .  Did  you 
see?  .  .  .  Did  you  hear?  .  .  .  But  at  Shirley's 
door  that  moment  in  the  darkened  theater 
came  back  to  Stu.  He  bent  his  head  to  her 
lips.  "Mellon's  orders,"  he  murmured  with 
difficulty.  And  then  he  was  kind  of  ashamed. 
But  it  was  on  orders,  in  a  kind  of  way.  He 
hoped  that  Shirley  understood.  That  was  the 
last  time  he  ever  used  that  expression  to  her. 

Stu  brought  Shirley  home  from  school 
every  day  after  rehearsal.  He  began  to  call 
for  her  in  the  morning  once  when  it  rained, 
and  then  he  kept  that  up,  too,  even  when  it 
wasn't  raining.  Shirley  was  always  late  and 
practically  every  morning  when  he  tapped 
the  car  horn,  her  mother  would  open  the  door 
and  call,  "Just  a  minute,  Stuart.  The  prima 
donna  is  still  primping."  Sometimes  Mrs. 
Brown  would  come  out  on  the  porch  and 
talk  to  him  until  Shirley  was  ready. 


"Hers  was  an  entirely  different  type  o 
case.  She  was,  fortunately,  not  infected  wher 
she  came  to  me.  It  is  different  with  youi 
daughter.  Here  the  damage  has  already  beer 
done,  and  any  surgical  tampering  which  ;i 
might  do  would  only  make  it  worse." 

"What  can  be  done,  then?" 

"  I  want  to  put  the  girl  in  the  hospital.  She 
should  never  have  been  out  of  bed  since  hei 
unfortunate  experience  with  your  abortion 
ist.  When  I  get  her  there,  I'll  use  the  anti- 
biotics that  medical  science  has  placed  at  oui 
disposal." 

"That  will  kill  the  infection?"  Mrs.  Gray 
asked. 

"It'll  prevent  the  micro-organisms  from 
growing,  and  give  Nature  a  chance  to  handle; 
the  infection." 

"Then  you  are  giving  me  hope?" 

"I'm  most  hopeful  for  the  outcome.  You 
are  going  to  have  a  struggle.  Mrs.  Gray, 
Your  daughter  is  sick,  and  I  don't  mean' 
merely  comfortably  sick.  With  good  nursing 
and  conservative  treatment,  she  should  make 
the  grade."  < 

"You  can't  imagine  what  a  load  that  takes- 
off  my  mind,  Doctor." 

"Now,  we're  going  to  have  a  battle  on  our 
hands,  and  the  sooner  we  get  at  it,  the  better.' 
I'm  going  to  call  the  hospital  this  minute, 
and  I  only  hope  I  can  get  a  reservation." 

"Oh,  I  do  hope  so.  Doctor." 

"We'll  find  a  place  for  your  daughter 
somewhere— I  promise  you  that.  It  is  essen- 
tial." 


Improved  methods  of  aneethenia  simplify  surgery., 
The  new  anenthetios  are  Doctor  SafFord*R  tliemet 
next  month. 


'  ei 
•i 

13 

S, 
01 

IS 

•J 
„a 

■t 


"Someday  I  hope  you  go  off  without  her," 
she  said. 

"Mother!"  Shirley  rebuked  her,  un- 
abashed, coming  out  now  fresh  and  clean  like 
something  brand-new,  from  her  newly  whit- 
ened shoes  and  the  golden  color  of  her  bare 
legs  to  her  shining  hair  that  she  cut  and 
permanent ed  and  set  herself.  "You  don't 
mean  it." 

"  I  do,"  Mrs.  Brown  said,  her  eyes  admir- 
ing. 

"And  I  will,"  Stu  threatened.  He  and  Mrs. 
Brown  would  exchange  a  glance,  and  Shirley 
would  pretend  to  be  offended,  and  they  all 
knew  that  none  of  it  was  true. 

Stu  got  to  know  Shirley's  family  well.  Mrs. 
Brown  leagued  him  on  her  side  lo  make  Shir- 
ley come  home  early,  or  to  persuade  her  she 
was  doing  too  much  at  school,  or  to  convince 
her  that  she  shouldn't  try  lo  baby-sit. 

"  I  want  to,"  Shirley  said.  "  I  want  to  earn 
some  money." 

"How  much  did  you  make  last  night?" 
Stu  asked,  with  the  superiority  of  a  male  who 
has  a  good  income. 

"Thai's  just  il,"  Mrs.  Brown  said.  "Pea- 
nuts. And  for  thai  she  misses  her  sleep." 

"I  like  peanuts,"  Shirley  said,  "and  I'm 
not  a  bit  sleepy." 

Cornelia,  Shirley's  little  sister,  would 
enter  the  arguments  too.  "  I'm  not  ever  going 
to  baby-sit,"  she  would  declare,  suing  for 
Stu's  approval.  They  all  laughed  about  the 
way  she  had  fastened  on  him.  Privately  she 
had  asked  him  not  to  call  her  Comey,  and 
he  never  gave  her  away,  and  gravely  ad- 
dressed her  as  Comelia  or,  extravagantly,  as 
Beautiful  or  Gorgeous.  Comey  look  il  in  her 
stride. 

Stu  would  have  liked  lo  talk  extravagantly 
to  Shirley,  but  somehow  the  words  always 
stuck  m  his  throat.  He  could  tease  her  a  bit 
with  her  mother's  help,  but  alone,  he  couldn't 
manage  that  either.  Ht  was  loo  serious  about 
her,  that  was  all.  He  didn't  say  "love,"  but 
Shirley  was  like  part  of  himself,  a  sacred, 
wonderful  part  that  he  couldn't  believe 
existed.  He  hadn't  known  that  you  could 
think  so  constantly  of  another  person.  Shirley 
was  never  out  of  his  thoughts  when  he  was 


RELIEVES  PAIN 
OF  HEADACHE 
NEURALGIA  j 
NEURITIS  ^ 


-•1 


\  I)   I  i; 


II   'I   \i  I, 


.111(1  when  lu'  slopl,  she  w;is  in  liis 

asked  her  to  wear  liis  diil)  piii,  and 
Iho  had  1(1  liiin  pin  il  on  licr.  Kvci  y  morning 
Ivhen  hf  called  for  her,  ho  looked  for  il  first, 
iirid  Ihm  ins  heart  that  liad  been  jumiiy  and 
c;ireci  would  calm  down  a  hit,  but  he  could 
never  lake  il  easy.  She  accepted  all  his  iiivi- 
alions.  and  he  asked  her  for  everylhiiiK  that 
jv.nl  on  at  sdiool  early  so  that  there  was 
lothii"^;  ll>:it  anyliody  else  could  take  her  lo. 
Ho  wiis  a  privileged  person  who  could  decide 
nonicntous  matters  of  dress  for  her,  as  lor 
nslarice  which  shoes  slie  should  wear,  or 
•  'wlher  she  needed  a  coat.  And  he  would 
(derail  these  matters  seriously,  althou.uh 

iii  limes  she  would  lauuli  at  him. 

rhil  niniil  of  his  club's  bi^  dance,  Stu 
arrived  lo  find  the  Browns  in  an  ui)roar. 
Dress  {or  the  dance  had  been  announced  as 
semiloinial,  and  Shirley  had  a  new  dress, 
sleeveless,  but  hi^;h  in  the  neck.  Il  had  been 
shown  lo  Stu  for  his  approval.  But  liial  very 
day  Shirley  had  learned  lhal  "semiformal" 
meant  everylhinK  buL  lonu  dress,  and  prac- 
tically everyi:)ody  was  wearing  strapless. 
Shirley  had  rushed  hoinc  lo  remodel  her  own 
dress.  'Ihi-  ;<'b  had  been  comi)leled  abouL  ten 
minutes  before  Shirle\'  had  lo  pul  il  on,  and 
now  thcN'  were  decidint;  whether  she  should 
wear  soinethinu;  around  her  neck.  She  had  a 
velvet  libbon,  or  she  could  borrow  iier 
niolherV  rhinestone  necklace. 

"I'm  for  the  ribbon,"  Mr.  Brown  said. 
"Al  Icasi  il  will  cover  up  anolher  inch  of  her 
neck." 

"Wear  Ihe  necklace,"  Corney  cried  over 
land  over  again.  "It's  perfeclly  beautiful." 
"We'll  ask  Stuart,"  Mrs.  Brown  decided. 
Slu  hai  never  before  seen  Shirley  in  a 
formal  dn'ss.  He  felt  as  if  fireworks  were  go- 
ing off  in  front  of  his  eyes.  He  had  never  seen 
anything  so  beautiful  in  his  life  as  her  bare 
slioulders. 

hich,  Stu?"  Shirley  asked,  holding  up 
!'.ie  ribbon  and  the  necklace  in  turn,  as  if  he 
were  in  any  condition  to  make  a  decision. 

"1  pnecklace,"  Corney  cried,  jumping  up 
and  down. 

"Be  quiet,  Grney,"  Mrs.  Brown  said. 
"But  it's  prfectly  beautiful,"  Corney 
wailed.  # 

Stu  clearediis  throat.  "I  don't  think  she 
should  wear'  nything,"  he  finally  managed 
lo  say,  and  fit  himself  blushing.  "I  like  it 
without  anytimg."  He  made  a  vague  gesture 
with  his  banc;. 

"So  do  I,'  Mrs.  Brown  said  quickly.  "I 
knew  StuaiL  \  ould  know  what  was  right." 
"Well,  let's  10,  Stu,"  Shirley  said. 
'Have  a  god  time,"  Mrs.  Brown  said, 
;:nd  Mr.  Browr  for  some  reason  shook  hands 
With  Stu. 

Corney  wasjtaring.  "You  look  romantic," 
^^he  said. 

"Corney  ["Shirley  was  horrified. 

"Well,  you  know  what  I  mean,"  Corney 
said,  bewilder  d. 

"Of  course  we  know,"  Mrs.  Brown  said; 
"they  do  looV  romantic." 

It  should  have  set  Stu  up.  It  should  have 
madt  him  feel  keen.  But  right  there  and  then, 
with  ihe  family  practically  handing  Shirley 
to  him  and  with  Shirley  looking  at  him  with 
a  kind  of  promise  that  had  never  been  in  her 
before  (or  mayb)e  il  was  the  darned  dress 
that  seemed  :,o  promise),  all  the  excitement 
and  happiness  fizzled  out  of  him,  and  he  felt 
a  huge  drowning  despair.  So  he  could  tell 
Shirley  wl  .ether  or  not  to  wear  a  ribbon. 
What  did  il  mean?  It  meant  nothing— abso- 
lutely nothing. 

T  /' 

*  HE  lEvening  was  sort  of  funny  if  you  could 
;panage  a  certain  kind  of  sense  of  humor, 
^fu  t.nanaged  i>  only  briefly  and  then  he  felt 
sicl.v.  He  knew  he'd  either  have  to  be  sick, 
f  ood  and  sick,  or  he'd  have  to  be  tough.  So 
lie  was  tough.  And  what  did  Shirley  do?  She 
made  up  to  him.  She  flirted  with  him.  She 
even  pouted  a  little.  "Don't  you  like  me  any 
more,  Stu?" 

"Sure."  That  was  for  a  laugh.  His  stomach 
twisted  with  the  laugh.  He  knew  then  what 
he  was  going  to  have  to  do. 

Right  after  this  dance  they  put  on  the 
play.  It  ran  for  three  nights  in  a  row,  and  it 


was  a  big  success.  Slu  and  Shirley  were  the 
big  people  around  scIkjoI.  Three  nights.  Just 
like  professionals.  For  those  nights,  Stu 
almost  forgot.  Almost.  II  was  like  the  feast 
they  give  condemned  pris<niers,  he  thmiglil. 

After  the  final  performance,  there  was  to 
be  a  big  i)arty  for  the  cast  and  everybody 
who  had  hel|)ed  on  the  production. 

"  Don't  expect  me  home  until  you  see  me," 
Shirley  said  to  her  mother.  She  was  aglow. 

Mrs.  Brown  met  Slu'seyes.  Ilesmiled^  but 
lie  felt  taul.  1  le  fell  as  if  he  might  sna)). 

"This  IS  our  big  night,"  Shirley  sjiid. 
"Our,"  she  said.  She  linked  herself  with  Stu. 
And  you  know  what  Stu  was  going  todo'  Ih- 
was  going  to  break  the  link. 

Maybe  he  was  crazy  to  do  it  this  way  1 1<- 
felt  crazy,  lie  felt  lie  (lidiri  belong  to  Ins 


IT'S  YOUR  ATTITUDE 
TO  LIFE  THAT  MATTERS 

The  important  and  decisive  thing  ii 
not  what  happens  to  us  as  we  go 
through  life;  it  is  how  we  stand  up  to 
failure  or  adjust  to  success,  what  we 
maite  of  misfortune,  sorrow,  suffer- 
ing. 

In  the  main,  men  and  women  adopt 
one  of  three  attitudes  to  life.  With 
some  it  is  an  attitude  of  rebellion. 
They  go  about  with  a  sense  of  griev- 
ance, complaining  that  it  has  let  them 
down,  cheated  them,  disappointed 
their  hopes,  never  really  given  them 
what  they  want  or  what  they  con- 
sider their  due.  Rebellion  of  this  sort 
breeds  bitterness,  cynicism,  hostility 
and,  as  any  doctor  will  tell  you,  is  as 
liable  to  cause  disease  as  a  germ. 

Another  of  the  attitudes  men  and 
women  adopt  to  life  is  the  attitude  of 
submission.  Sometimes  the  submis- 
sion is  fatalistic.  The  impression  that 
what  happens  to  us  is  ordained  for  us 
and  that  nothing  we  or  anybody  else 
may  do  will  ever  change  that  fact  is 
nota  Christian  impression.  Sometimes 
the  submission  is  stoical.  Submission 
is  much  too  negative  and  passive  to 
be  one  of  the  cardinal  Christian  vir- 
tues. Trouble  should  not  crush  the  hu- 
man spirit,  but  arouse  and  awaken  it. 

Better  than  an  attitude  of  submis- 
sion, better  than  an  attitude  of  re- 
bellion, is  the  attitude  of  acceptance. 
I  mean  that  we  are  to  look  for  ways 
of  making  a  creative  use  of  adversity 
or  suffering.  Acceptance  is  wisdom 
and  brings  a  peace  which  is  deeper 
than  pain  and  a  happiness  which  con 
rise  above  tribulation. 

DR.  ROBERT  J.  MC  CRACKEN 


body.  To  spoil  everything,  the  play,  the 
memories.  He  could  have  waited,  until  to- 
morrow even.  But  he  couldn't  wait.  He  had 
to  do  it  this  way.  Maybe  because  he  was 
seventeen,  and  he  loved  Shirley.  He  said 
"love"  now.  You  can't  take  things  like  this 
easy.  You  have  to  make  them  hurl,  terribly. 

It  was  hopeless,  to  be  seventeen.  Some 
fellows  were  marrying  in  high  school,  coming 
back  to  finish  school,  living  with  their  folks. 
Stu's  mother  was  shocked.  What  was  there 
to  be  shocked  about  ?  Stu  was  as  much  in  love 
with  Shirley  as  he  would  be  at  twenty-seven. 
More,  maybe.  But  in  a  way,  he  knew  how 
his  mother  felt.  He  knew,  too,  that  Shirley 
wanted  to  go  to  college.  She  had  ambition. 
And  this  was  the  thing  that  made  him  feel 
most  helpless,  most  caught.  In  a  complicated 
way,  a  way  he  didn't  want  to  understand,  he 
didn't  want  to  get  married  either.  He  had 
ambition  too.  But  it  didn't  make  sense. 
Being  seventeen  didn't  make  sense. 

Stu  took  Shirley  over  to  the  Student 
Union.  It  was  all  decorated  with  crepe  paper 
and  greens.  Everybody  was  yelling  about 
how  shck  it  looked.  And  there  was  food. 

"I'm  starved,"  Shirley  said.  "I  couldn't 
eat  anv  dinner." 


Stu  grinned.  His  face  fell  (jucer. 
"You  coining?" 

"Boloney  sandwichen  and  ixip."  All  the 
violence  he  felt  was  in  his  voice. 

Shirley  l(X)kfd  at  him  Hieadily,  but  all  hIk; 
8aid  was,  "  Sounds  g<xxl  lo  me."  and  Hhe 
walked  away, 

Afler  a  while  the  band  got  finiBhed 
shuflling  through  music  and  tuning  up.  Slu 
and  Shirley  would  lead  off,  of  coursi-,  Il  was 
expected.  The  jiarty  was  practically  in  Iheir 
honor.  Stu  could  feel  Shirley  l(x»king  al  him. 
He  could  feel  all  lhal  she  meant  to  him.  Hut 
moHl  (jf  all  he  could  feel  the  ustlensncHH  of  il. 

Ill  went  ahead  and  did  it.  In  a  far-off  way 

Ik'  could  hear  girls  chattering  beside  him,  and 
he  turned  blindly.  "Dance?"  he  mumbled. 
And  then  he  was  holding  a  girl  and  he  was 
moving,  i  le  was  clear  down  at  the  other  end 
of  the  Ihxjr  before  he  found  out  lhal  il  was 
Nancy  thai  he  was  dancing  with.  By  then 
the  fkxir  was  filling  up,  and  some  of  the  fel- 
l(»\s  were  kxjking  snide,  and  some  of  the  girls 
l(K)k(fl  bursting.  He  wished  he  could  slay 
hhiid.  Ih  wished  thai  he  didn't  know  any- 
l)0(ly. 

In  the  way  that  he  knew  alxjul  Shirley 
even  when  he  was  far  from  her  -  and  was  he 
far  from  her  now— he  knew  that  she  was 
dancing.  Well,  of  course  she  would  be.  She 
was  popular.  She  was  the  most  admired  girl 
in  11  le  whole  darned  sch<x)l.  She  was  "all 
this,"  as  his  father  had  said.  Bui  she  didn't 
have  to  dance  with  lhal  crumby  Warren 
Benson,  did  she?  All  right,  so  Warren  was  a 
basketball  star.  What  was  sf)  darned  wonder- 
ful about  lhal?  Stu  fell  desperate. 

"I'm  thinking  of  trying  out  for  Dramatics 
Club,"  Nancy  said.  "It  lcx)ks  like  fun." 

Fun?  Slu  was  sweating.  What  had  he 
done  ? 

"Do  you  think  I'd  be  gcx)d,  Slu?" 

How  would  he  know?  Nancy  was  all 
right.  There  was  nothing  wrong  with  her— 
except  lhal  she  wasn't  Sliirley.  "Sure,  you'd 
be  terrific." 

"Well,  you  don't  have  to  be  sarcastic 
about  it!" 

He  couldn't  stand  her  any  longer.  He'd 
have  to  leave  her  even  if  the  music  didn't 
slop.  Leave  her  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
fioor.  Only  he  knew  he  wouldn't.  You  had  to 
be  polite  to  people  you  didn't  care  about. 
The  only  people  you  could  hurt  were  the 
ones  it  killed  you  to  hurt. 

Il  was  crazy  when  you  said  it,  Stu  thought. 
It  didn't  make  sense.  It  was  like  a  sentence 
to  him.  That  was  good.  Shirley  would  appre- 
ciate that.  Shirley  

He  looked  around  the  floor  and  when  he 
located  Shirley  he  pushed  Nancy  around  fast. 
He  was  practically  running,  not  dancing. 
Nancy  was  looking  haughty,  but  let  her.  He 
had  to  see  how  Shirley  felt. 

"Hi!"  he  said  loudly,  and  he  gave  her  a 
big  grin.  His  face  felt  as  if  it  were  slashed. 

"Hi."  She  smiled  back,  friendly  as  ever, 
and  then  she  looked  away. 

Suddenly  Stu  was  almost  loo  tired  to 
move. 

"You  and  Shir  break  up?"  Nancy  asked. 

He  felt  his  muscles  tighten.  "What  was 
there  to  break  up?" 

"Weren't  you  going  steady?" 

"That  gets  me,"  he  said,  hot  and  an,gry. 
"That's  kid  stuff." 

"Well,  it  sure  looked  like  it." 

"  Mellon 's  orders,"  he  said,  forcing  himself 
to  be  flippant,  and  there  was  the  vivid  re- 
membrance of  the  night  he  had  first  kissed 
Shirley. 

Stu  stuck  around  for  another  dance,  and 
this  time  he  asked  Alice  Jenkins,  a  girl  in  his 
French  class.  He  picked  her  mainly  because 
he  couldn't  stand  her. 

"Bon  soir,  M.  Simms,"  Alice  said.  That's 
the  kind  of  girl  she  was.  She  talked  French. 
She  probably  sent  out  Christmas  cards  that 
said  Noel. 

Stu  laughed  politely. 

"C'est  tin  rumba,  M.  Simms,"  Alice  Jen- 
kins pointed  out. 

Un  rumba,  for  Pete's  sake,  Stu  thought. 
"Merci  pour  la  daiise.  Mile.  Jenkins,"  he 
said,  and  walked  out. 

Outside  it  came  over  him  with  the  force  of 
the  night,  with  the  force  of  the  universe, 


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L   A    I)    I    !•     S  '       II    O    \!    F.       T    O    U    H    N    A  L 


what  he  had  done.  Done  to  himself.  He  had 
read  once  of  a  man  who  had  chopped  off  liis 
own  foot  to  escape  from  a  trap.  Well,  Stu 
had  found  himself  in  a  trap,  the  trap  of 
seventeen,  and  he  had  cut  himself  out. 

the  next  morning  as  soon  as  he  thought 
that  Shirley  would  be  awake,  Stu  telephoned, 
but  he  was  too  early. 

"Is  there  any  message,  Stuart?"  Mrs. 
Brown  asked.  She  seemed  to  be  asking  for 
something  else.  Had  Shirley  told  her?  Did 
she  know  that  he  hadn't  brought  Shirley 
home?  Suddenly  that  .seemed  the  most 
shameful  part  of  what  he  had  done.  He 
hadn't  seen  that  Shirley  got  home  safely. 

"It  isn't  important,  Mrs.  Brown,"  he  told 
her. 

"Will  you  call  again?" 
"Sure." 

But  he  didn't  call  until  late  that  night.  A 
hundred  times  he  told  himself  that  it  was 
done.  He  should  leave  it  alone.  She'd  have 
nothing  to  do  with  him.  That  was  what  he 
wanted.  But  he  did  call. 

"Hello,  Shirley." 

"Oh.  Hello." 

"I'm  sorry,  Shirley." 

"Why,  that's  all  right,  Stu." 

"It  isn't."  His  throat  was  tight. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  be  mad?"  She 
laughed. 

"Yes." 

The  laughter  broke  off. 

"I  don't  know  why  I  did  it,"  he  said 
quickly.  "  I  don't  know  what  came  over  me." 

"Nancy  came  over  you,"  Shirley  said  im- 
pudently. 

"Stop  it,"  he  said. 

"Nancy's  real  cute,  I  think." 

"You're  beautiful." 

"Why,  Stu,  that's  the  first  time  you  ever 
told  me  that." 

"I  know."  He  thought  she  could  hear  his 
heart  pounding  over  the  wire. 

"Maybe  you  ought  to  see  more  of  Nancy, 
if  it  makes  you  appreciate  me." 

"I've  seen  enough.  You  sure  ycu  aren't 
mad?" 

"Sure." 

Now,  of  course,  was  when  he  should  ask 
her  for  a  date,  to  make  it  all  right.  His  jaw 
ached.  "Well,"  he  said,  "I'll  see  you 
around." 

"Sure  thing." 

"  'By,  Shirlev." 

"'By,  Stu."' 

He  waited  to  hear  her  hang  up,  and  after 
a  minute  she  did. 

Stu  didn't  call  for  Shirley  the  next  morn- 
ing, but  after  school  he  was  waiting  for  her 
and  honked  at  her  as  she  was  crossing  the 
street.  She  looked  back  and  waved,  but  kept 
on  walking.  He  started  the  car  and  pulled 
up  beside  her. 

"What's  your  hurry?"  he  asked  casually, 
too  casually. 

"Don't  you  have  to  get  to  work?" 

"Not  today.  I'm  not  going  today.  Want  a 
ride  home  ? " ' 

Finally  she  said  thanks,  and  got  in.  It 
didn't  take  long  to  reach  her  place,  and  he 
still  hadn't  said  anything.  She  started  to  get 
out  of  the  car. 

"What's  your  hurry?"  he  asked  again. 

She  sat  still  but  on  the  edge  of  the  seat,  as 
if  she  was  just  waiting  to  leave.  Stu  moved 
suddenly,  violently,  kicking  at  the  pedals  of 
the  car.  Shirley  didn't  say  anything. 

"It  was  wonderful  being  in  the  play  with 
you,  Shirley." 

"I  enjoyed  it  too." 

"We  had  to  see  a  lot  of  each  other  " 

"But  now  the  play's  over,"  she  finished. 

He  sighed  heavily.  "Yes."  Suddenly  he 
saw  his  pin  on  her  sweater  and  he  couldn't 
pull  his  eyes  away. 

She  looked  down,  and  then  she  flushed 
very  red.  "Oh,  of  course,  you  want  your  pin 
back." 

"That's  not  why  I  brought  you  home,"  he 
said  hotly. 

She  had  trouble  undoing  the  pin.  He  re- 
membered that  his  hands  had  trembled  when 
he  pinned  it  on.  Finally  she  got  it  off  and 
dropped  it  into  his  hand.  He  actually  put  his 
hand  out  for  it. 

"Thanks,"  he  mumbled. 


"Don't  mention  it."  Then  she  began  to 
get  mad.  "Why  did  you  give  it  to  me,  I 
wonder?  You  didn't  have  to.  Mellon  didn't 
order  that." 

He  blazed  back  at  her.  "I  did  a  lot  of 
things  that  Mellon  didn't  order." 

"I  know,  Stu.  I'm  sorry." 

"  I  gave  you  my  pin  because  I  wanted  you 
to  wear  it." 

"And  now  you  don't  want  me  to  wear  it." 

"That's  not  it.  Shirley,  can  I  be  frank?" 

She  nodded. 

"We're  not  going  steady."  A  fire  ran 
through  him  when  he  said  it.  He  saw  a  soft- 
ness in  Shirley's  face,  a  melting.  He  shook 
his  head.  "  If  I  went  steady  with  any  girl,"  he 
said,  and  his  voice  was  harsh,  "I'd  want  to 
go  steady  with  you.  But  where  does  it  get 
you  to  go  steady?  I'm  only  seventeen.  I'm 
still  in  high  school.  I  don't  believe  in  going 
steady  unless  I'm  in  a  position  to  go  through 
with  it,  all  the  way — to  get  married,  I 
mean." 

Again  he  saw  that  softness  in  her,  and 
again  the  fire  ran  through  him.  Right  then  he 
was  tempted.  He  felt  reckless.  He  felt  alive. 
And  then  she  spoke. 

"I  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said. 
"We're  too  young." 

"You  ought  to  go  out  with  other  fellows." 
The  words  hurt  his  throat. 

"That's  a  fine  thing  to  tell  me."  But  she 
was  teasing. 

He  didn't  even  smile.  "And  I  ought  to  go 
out  with  other  girls.  I've  read  a  lot  of  stuff  on 
this  subject.  Some  of  it's  the  bunk.  Some  of 


it  must  be  written  by  people  who  have  never 
been  seventeen,  but  some  of  it's  right.  Our 
society  is  all  wrong.  The  way  things  are,  a 
fellow  can't  think  of  marriage  until  he  is 
making  a  good  income.  For  me  that  will  be 
six  or  seven  years  at  the  very  earliest." 

"I  don't  want  to  get  married  yet  either," 
Shirley  said. 

"No."  Then  he  asked,  "Where  will  you  be 
six  or  seven  years  from  now,  Shirley?" 

"On  Broadway,  maybe."  She  grinned. 
"More  likely  I'll  be  a  teacher." 

"Shirley,  if  it  was  six  or  seven  years  from 
now,  and  I  asked  you  to  go  steady,  would 
you?"  It  was  difficult  to  breathe.  For  a 
glorious  blinding  moment,  he  knew  what  it 
would  be  like. 

"  I  don't  know,  Stu.  I  " 

"  It  was  a  silly  question,"  he  said  brusquely. 
"Skip  it." 

"Stu  " 

"Forget  it." 

Cornelia  came  up  the  street  from  school 
and  Stu  leaned  out  the  window.  "Hi, 
Beautiful!" 

Shirley  got  out  of  the  car,  but  Cornelia 
climbed  on  the  running  board  by  Stu. 

"Come  on  in,  Corney,"  Shirley  said.  "You 
have  to  practice." 

"Not  now,"  Cornelia  said. 

"Cornelia!"  Shirley's  voice  was  sharp.  In 
a  strange  way  that  did  Stu  good. 

"She'll  come  in  a  minute,"  he  said. 
"You'll  go  when  I  tell  you,  won't  you, 
sweetheart?" 

"Yes,  Stu,"  Cornelia  said  demurely. 


The  Yellow-Breasted  Chat 

(To  a  little  girl,  aged  ten) 
itii  3laxicvll  A  nilvrann 


I  hear  that  you  have  learned  the 
words 

That  go  with  different  kinds  of 
birds. 

You  are  aware  of  thrush  or  veery, 
Your  warbler  is  no  wild  canary, 
You  lurk  where  bass  and  birch 

grow  deep 
To  see  what  kinds  of  creepers 

creep; 

You  con  the  redstart  on  the  wing, 
And  write  down  notes  the  finches 
sing. 

Now  I  grew  up  with  country  louts 
Before  the  invention  of  Boy  Scouts, 
And  very  long  (though  boys  wore 
curls) 

Before  Scouts  ever  heard  of  Girls. 
The  birds  I  knew  were  plain  and 
few. 

And  I  made  that  little  knowledge 
do 

Till  quite  six  times  as  old  as  you. 
The  robin  and  the  chickadee 
And  meadow  lark  were  known  to 
me; 

The  red-winged  blackbird  and  the 
crow 

Were  birds  that  anyone  would 
know; 

A  bird,  if  I  knew  what  it  was, 
Was  altogether  obvious. 

But  then  I  came  on  your  bird  book 
And  took  myself  another  look, 
And  checking  through  our  patch 

of  woods 
Added  these  to  my  inner  goods: 
The  junco  and  the  black-and-white 


Warbler  have  crossed  my 

bookworm  sight 
So  often  in  these  haunts  that  grow 

them 

That  finally  I  seem  to  know  them; 
There's  a  quick  buzzing,  not 

unpleasant, 
That  means  you  haven't  seen  a 

pheasant, 
And  the  silent  shadow  of  one  fowl 
Made  me  suspect  a  downy  owl. 

But  learning  is  a  madding  thing, 
It  lures  you  on  from  deep  to 
deeper 

Till  one  by  one  I've  seen  awing 
Or  sitting,  every  hatch  and  creeper, 
Though  what  I'm  really  looking  for 
(And  your  bird  book's  to  blame 

for  that) 
Is  a  ravishing  insectivore 
Known  as  the  yellow-breasted 

chat. 

To  no  bird  extant  under  heaven, 
According  to  that  book  of  yours. 
Has  such  enchanting  song  been 
given 

As  the  chat  renders  at  all  hours. 
And  now  I  know  that  I  shall  search 
Through  all  the  length  of  all  my 
days 

Through  bass  and  tulip,  oak  and 
birch 

For  the  bird  of  those  transcendent 
lays. 

That  it  will  pass  this  point  I  doubt. 
My  fate  is  common:  wren  or  bat; 
But  still  I  wear  my  sneakers  out 
Seeking  the  yellow-breasted  chat. 


After  that,  Stu  brought  Shirley  ho 
school  occasionally.  On  rainy  rs. 
sometimes,  he  still  came  by  the 
her.  Once  in  a  while  he  phoned.  Wi 
nelia  or  Mrs.  BrowTi  answered,  hfl 
talked  to  her  too. 

The  year  was  rushing  to  a  close\ 
terrible  swiftness  and  flurry  of 
There  were  examinations  to  be  takd 
tures,  consultations  with  advisers,  co 
tions  with  college  counselors.  Ther 
parties  and  yearbooks  and  class  gift 
pilgrimages,  and  long  talks.  There 
plans  for  the  future,  dreams.  There 
Senior  Ball. 

,  The  Senior  Ball  was  only  one  weei 
when  Stu  phoned  Shirley.  He  told  l^i 
he  didn't  intend  to.  He  wasn't  going  t 
ball.  But  the  minute  he  picked  up  t'i6 
phone,  he  knew  that  all  along  he  had 
going  to  do  it.  His  heart  began  to  point 
mad,  and  along  with  his  fear  he  felt  a  \ 
gladness  He  wanted  to  shout. 

Then  Shirley  answered,  and  he  ooul 
speak. 

"Hello?"  she  asked  again. 

"Hello,  Shirley." 

"Oh,  hello,  Stu." 

"How  did  you  know  it  was  me?" 

"Well,  I  can  tell  your  voice." 


I 
i 


I 


That  wasn't  what  he  wanted.  H.  wan. 
her  to  say  she  had  been  hoping  he  vould  c 
expecting,  sure.  Sure.  What  if  he  was  o 
eighteen  now  and  just  graduating  from  h 
school?  What  if  he  did  have  collegt  ahead 
him  and  a  career  to  make?  They  cjuld  Wt.; 
Some  people  did.  People  in  lo\e.  Peoj' 
made  for  each  other,  as  Shirley  was  made  ll 
him.  Or  he  didn't  have  to  go  to  (.ollege.  t 
was  back  on  the  seesaw.  He  couk]  get  a  j 
■right  away.  Some  people  got  married  your 
Some  people  who  were  crazy  ir  love,  1 
him. 

"How  are  you,  Shirley?" 
"Fine,  Stu." 

"Ready  for  the  big  event?" 

"What  big  event,  Stu?" 

"The  Senior  Ball."  He  gussea  lie  knev 
right  then,  but  he  went  on.  'Will  you  go  ti 
the  Senior  Ball  with  me,  Shiey?"  She  w: 
his  girl.  You  only  went  to  lie  Senior  1- 
with  your  own  girl.  It  was  iiportant  i!. 
way.  Or  you  didn't  go  at  all. 

"Oh,  Stuart!"  That  was  all. 

He  swallowed.  Something  wa  stuck  in  hia 
throat.  "Who're  you  going  witl?" 

"W- warren  Benson.  He  askd  me  weel 
ago." 

"You  broke  a  date  for  me  ace,  Shirley,' 
he  said. 
"Yes." 

"  Will  you  break  this  one?  "He  felt  strong 
like  a  superman. 

She  didn't  answer. 

"Shirley  " 

"No,  Stu,  I'm  afraid  I  coulcn't  break  thi! 
date." 

"Why  not?  You  going  steady  with  Ben 
son?" 

"No.  I  told  you  I  don't  believe  in  i 
either." 

"Then  why  not?" 

"Because  I  couldn't,  Stu." 

All  the  strength  went  out  of  him.  "No, 
suppose  you  couldn't." 

"Oh,  Stu!"  #f 

"It's  all  right,  Shirley."  ^ 

"Is  it,  Stu?" 

"Yes.  You're  right,"  he  told  her. 
know  it.  Really.  That's  why  1'  waited  s( 
long  to  ask  you."  ^ 

"Stu,  I'll  save  you  a  dance." 

"Fine."  He  didn't  tell  her  he  woi^Jdn't  b 
going. 

"Don't  forget  now." 

"Forget?" 

"Stu,  Comey's  here.  She  wants  to  taliVt' 
you."  '  _  \ 

"Sorry,"  he  said.  "Do  you  mind?  I  ]isi;j 
remembered  something  I  have  to  do."  ; 

"Not  at  all,  Stu.  I'll  tell  her."  ! 

He  hung  up  and  then  banged  his  fist  into 
the  wall  with  all  his  strength.  It  brought  ^ 
tears  to  his  eyes.  What  was  he  coming  to:; 
Hurting  a  sweet  little  kid  like  Corney- 
pardon  me,  sweetheart— Cornelia. 

THE  ENE 

Printed  in  U.  S. .'. 


i 

I'! 


'         "    •  S  •       II    ()    M     I         )    O    I      It      .     \  I, 


Your  mouth  tastes  fresher... teeth  and  breath 
stay  cleaner. . .  you  reduce  decay  better. . . 

with  the  NEW  I  PAN  A 


Toothbrushing  can  be  a  pleasure  instead  ol'  a  chore  —  with  the  new  improved  Ipana.  Its  new  "Sparkle-Fresh" 
flavor  and  twice-as-rich  foaming  made  it  the  2  to  1  choice  of  hundreds  of  men,  women  and  children  who  tried 
it  in  their  own  homes.  See  if  your  own  family  doesn't  agree. 


How  sdentists  new  Ipana  keeps  teeth  and  breath  cleaner 


Teeth  54%  Cleaner  the  First  Day.  New  Ipana's 
e^lrw' hie  ability  to  clean  bnght^n^ 
was  proved  by  scientists  at  a  leading  ^^'^^'If  l 
Tn  a  s  udv  of  brushing  in  the  morning  and  after 
^raK  t^e  scientists  flind  that  new  Ipana  m^de 
badly  stained  teeth  54%  cleaner-the  tirst  day. 


Oral  Bad  Breath  Stopped  4  Hours 


\nothcr 


d  Oreain  ^ivyy^- 

.     .  1    scientific  odor-measuring  osmometer 
'     Tt  'breatr  Men  and  women  with  severe 
of  mouth' odor  brushed  their  teeth  with 

'^^^^  IpanT  The^unpleasant  -o-^  o^i- 

r  .        .     .^1  r — in  pverv  single  case. 


Famous  Ipana  now  gives  you  two 
new  scientific  cleansing  agents 

Yes,  Ipana  Tooth  Paste  is  now  better  than  ever 
Ft  gives  you  all  the  ingredients  you  need  for  effec- 
tive mouth  hygiene.  And  it  tastes  wonderfully 
refreshing,  can  never  stain. 

Ipana's  two  new  scientific  cleansing,  purifying 
agents  actually  clean  better  than  any  single  tooth- 
paste ingredient  known.  They  penetrate  where 
even  water  cannot  reach  . . .  help  keep  your  whole 
mouth  sweeter,  healthier. 

What's  more,  you  have  never  tasted  anything 
so  fresh  and  peppy  as  Ipana's 
new,  improved  flavor.  And 
you've  never  felt  anything  like 
the  way  it  bursts  instantly  into 
twice  as  much  cleansing  foam. 
You'll  notice  the  difference  the 
\cry  first  time  you  use  it. 


New  pleasanter  wj/  to  take  care 
of  gums,  reduce  tooth  decay 

Dentists  will  tell  you  that  a  cleaner  mouth  is  a 
healthier  mouth.  Thai's  what  \ou  get  when  yt)u 
brush  your  teeth  after  meals  with  new  Ipana. 

First,  new  Ipana  removes  more  of  the  mouth 
acids  that  can  bring  on  painful  and  costly  cavi- 
ties. It  gives  you  and  your  family  better  protec- 
tion from  tooth  decay. 

Second,  brushing  teeth  from  gum  margins  to- 
ward biting  edges  with  new  Ipana  helps  remove 
irritants  that  can  lead  to  common  gum  troubles. 
Taking  care  of  gums  this  way  is  important  for 
children  and  grown-ups  alike.  More  than  half  of 
all  tooth  loss  is  caused  by  gum  troubles. 

For  teeth  and  gums — as  well  as  breath  —  use 
the  new  Ipana.  Look  for  the  yellow-and-red 
Ipana  carton  wherever  tine  drug  products  are  sold. 


NOW  IT'S  BETTER  THAN  EVER 


A  Guaranteed  by^5\ 
t  Good  HoBitkMpiBf  J 

Product  of  Bristol-Myeri 


eoruary,  iy; 


/^^^ 

co-starring  in  "I  CONFESS" 
A  Warner  Bros.  Production 


ANNE  BAXTER  says,  "Yes,  1  use  Lustrc-Creme  Shampoo."  In  fact,  in  less  than  two  years,  Lustre-Creme  has  become  the  shampoo  of  the  majority  of  top  Holly- 
wood stars!  W'hen  America's  most  glamorous  women  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo,  shouldn't  it  heyour  choice  above  all  others,  too? 


For  the  Most  Beautiful  Hair  in  the  World 
4  out  of  5  Top  Hollywood  Stars 

use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 


Glamour-made-easy!  Never  was 
hair  care  easier  or  more  rewarding.  In 
hardest  water,  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 
foams  into  lavish,  deep-cleansing  lather 
that  actually  "shines"  as  it  cleans  .  .  . 
leaves  hair  soft  and  fragrant,  gleaming- 
bright,  free  of  loose  dandruff. 


Will  not  dry  hair!  Wonderful  Lustre- 
Creme  doesn't  dry  or  dull  your  hair — 
even  if  you  want  to  shampoo  every  day! 
Lustre-Creme  is  blessed  with  Natural 
Lanolin  to  make  up  for  loss  of  protective 
oils  .  .  .  bring  out  glorious  sheen  and 
sparkling  highlights  in  your  hair. 


Makes  hair  eager  to  curl!  Now  you 

can  "do  things"  with  your  hair — right 
after  you  wash  it !  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 
lielps  make  hair  a  joy  to  manage.  Even 
flyaway  locks  respond  to  the  lightest 
touch  of  brush  or  comb.  And  this,  with- 
out any  special  after-rinses  I 


Fabulous  Lustre-Creme  costs  no 
more  than  other  shampoos — 
214  to  $2  in  jars  or  tubes. 


I'.vcii  alli'i-  llii-  sli  ikiiif;  success  (il  li<'i- 

1  k  in  llic  lliiilcd  Stales,  ls\K 

|)ini:si;n"s  |iiililisliers  (liandoiii  lldiise) 
llmii;;lil  she  was  a  iiuiii.  Only  alh'i 
iiKiiillis  1)1  (|ueiies  (lid  slie  reveal  liei' 
li  iiesex.  I  tiieaiil  it  as  a  soi  l  ol' joke, 
(ir  mask,  she  u  role,  "hut  when  a  mask 
is  taken  as  an  altein()l  to  deceive,  il 
elianj,;es  cliaraeler,  even  lo  oneself." 
So  the  secret  was  out:  Isak  Dinesen 
was  not  a  man  a!  all.  Iml  liaroness 
Karen  iJlixen,  of  liMiii^slcdlund. 
Hinif^sted  Kyst,  Denmark.  One  editor 
uho  has  seen  hei'  savs,  "She  is  of  me- 
dium height,  straight  and  slim  as  a 
spear,  with  dead-while  skin  and  tre- 
mendous dark  eyes;  she  has  a  person- 
ality as  rcmarkahle  as  her  stories." 
The  magic  ailistrv  of  her  liiimorlal 
Slnry  (I'age  .i  1 )  will  speak  for  itself. 

"The  first  story  1 
ever  wrote,"  Mah- 
JORIE  Carter  tells 
us,  "was  ahoul  a  ])ig. 
I  still  like  il,  hut  no 
editor  did."  The  ma- 
luring  of  her  two 
sons  led  her  hack  to 
some  of  the  frustrat- 
ing and  delectahle 
aspects  of  young  love. 
(See  Love  Siory,  Page  44.)  Now  she 
writes,  not  ahout  pigs,  at  her  farm  in 
Lancaster  County,  Pennsylvania,  while 
raising  Hampshire  hogs  and  Saanen 
goats.  "I  used  to  have  a  rule,"  she 
says.  "The  rule  was:  one  story,  one 
submission,  one  rejection,  one  inciner- 
ation. Now  I  just  write  and  hope." 

Ali.stin  Harris,  whose  teen-age 
hotjwl  story,  Wiitdiip,  is  on  Page  50, 
knows  what  he  writes.  Nineteen  years 
old,  he  was  graduated  from  a  Norman, 
Oklahoma,  high  school  last  year,  and 
now  attends  the  University  of  Okla- 
homa. According  to  reports,  he  is  a 
good  mechanic,  loves  to  "soup  up" 
cars,  likes  to  box,  golf  and  play  basket- 
ball. He  does  a  hot  boogie  on  the  piano. 
Unmarried,  but  he  has  a  "steady"  girl. 


Marjt»ri**  ('.iirlrr 


I>«v»'l  roiii|t|i'l«>  ill  ThU  Immu«> 

'I'Ik-  liiiinorliil  Slurv                                                       i    i  i,  , 

I  ■•III.  Ihni'%rn  11 

"'  ^  -                                         (J.iil,.  lal.-,  M, 

l  aw  .la.MCHon  (SeeoiHl  ,mrl  „\  (,v,  )                   M„s  l>,ni,.,  Marlrn.-,  12 

l.ove  .Sliirv  If     •  /■ 

\iiirjonr  (  arli-r    I  t 

'  limliii  Utirrm  .'>(» 

>»|M>«-iiil  FiMiluri'N 

""•  ltinj..„„n  llilli.  II 

l)<.  Our  S,  I,„„Ih  \,.,.,|       .S  ()  sy  />„„„/„   //„„„/,,„„     I  , 

Tell  Me  Ooclor  (|'„r|  hIx)  I Imi  s  II.  SaHonl.  \I .1).  M 
My  True  Sell  (h'irHl  of  a  nerien) 

//.  K.  II.  I'iin(cs.s  l\(iiriiii<iii.  in  Inlil  i„  Klan'.  Illniiinr  10 

Can  riilH  Marriage  Ue  .Suved';'  (Se.-oiid  of  a  HcrieH)  1<) 

Fal.i,l«„8  Fanny  (( loneluHio.i)                                   \on,„.n  kail..,,  (,(> 

(ioorl  Scouts  Make  (;(M)il  Men  jj^, 

How  Vo.ing  America  Lives:  Pioneers— I <»:,.{  Ilrtiv  llnnniil,  ll„ll,„i,n  I  I  I 

I'olilicall'ilgrinrs  Progress:  "W  e  Miisl  ( :oiiiiii,i(.""  j.ij 
4M'ii«>rnl  F4'iitur4>N 

Our  Headers  \\  rile  Us   ^ 

Under-Cover  SlufT  Ii,rm,r,l,„r  Kully  16 

Makirif;  Marriage  Work                                          Uijjord  R.  A<lams  23 

Oiary  of  D<)mesli<  ily  Cladys  TuImt  2.S 

There's  a  Man  in  the  House  Harlan  Milirr  26 

W  hat  is  This  Thing  Called  l.ove?  (The  Suh-Del))  Edilril  l,y  Hath  Imlvr  28 

Filly  Years  Ago  •  .loiiriial  Ahoul  Town   33 

\sk  Any  W  Oman  Mumdviu-  0>x  67 

This  is  a  Never-Heady  Muiiro  Leaf  137 

How  Much  Quarreling  is  Normal .     Dr.  Herman  A.  ISundesen  1,5 i 

|{elerenee  Library   \(y2 

FiiKhukii  an«l  Il4>»uly 

Sixleen  and  Slim  .  .  .  al  I,ast!  Daun  Croirell  \iirnian  48 

TTie  Journal's  Little  (iem  of  a  W  ardroh<-   Nora  O'Leary  52 

Sweater  Fashions   IT  illiela  Cushman  5i 

Your  Suit  From  Now  On  Rmh  Mary  I'arkard  56 

$50  Spring  Wardrobe  i\ura  O  l.eary  117 

FootI  iind  HoiiK'makintf 

Say  it  \X  ilh  a  Good  Dinner  Inn  ISatthelder  58 

Line  a  Day  Ann  Batchelder  62 

Conversation  Piece  Ruth  Mills  Teafiue  80 

Step  Into  the  Kitchen  Gladys  Talwr  89 

Every  Day  is  Baking  Day  Dorothy  Rowland  122 

Ar«*liil«>4*tur<'  an«l  lnf«'ri<»r  ll«'«M»raii«>ii 

Tulip  Hill  Richard  Pratt  38 

Y  esterday's  Treasures.  .  .  Today's  Pleasures .    .  Henrietta  Murdork  46 

Young  Home-Builders  Margaret  Davidson  118 

W  elcome  Friends!  Henrietta  Murdoek  120 

Small  Bui  Complete                                                      Richard  Pratt  147 

PoeniN 

On  Naxos  Island                                                        Joan  Aucourt  73 

Gold  Standard  I  irginia  Brasier  94 

The  Hawk   Elizabeth  W  hittemore  Keith  105 

The  Child  Kneeling  V  irginia  Esterly  Dunbar  134 

Married  Love  Paul  Bennett  139 

Yet  I  Must  Love  You  Marjorie  Washburn  144 

Covor  l*liolo{Sraph  liv  W'illiola  ruNliman 


Austin  Harris 


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Trayser.  Vice-President  and  Director  of  Manufacturing:  Benjamin  Allen.  \*ice- President 
and  Director  of  Circulation:  Donald  M.  Hobart.  Vice-President  and  Director  of  Re- 
search; Brandon  Barringer.  Treasurer:  Robert  Gibbon,  Secretary:  Richard  Ziesing.  Jr.. 
Manager  of  Indies'  Home  Journal.  The  Company  also  publishes  The  Saturday  Evening 
Post.  Country  Gentleman.  Jack  and  Jill,  and  Holiday. 


EXPOSE 

your  own 

natural 

beauty 


FOUNDATION 


V 


This  is  /he  new  makeup  that's 
cream-misted  to  go  on 
smoother  — last  longer  — make 
you  look  prettier  from 
the  moment  you  put  It  on. 

Sheer  Beauly  Liquid  foundation 
7  shades,  1.25  and  1.75  (plus  lex) 


PARrS  LOHOON    •  EW  VOPK 


For  super-duper  cfieeseJburge/s 

...America's 
sliees/x 


For  specially  good  burgers  I 
combine  1  lb.  ground  beef, 
1  tsp.  sail,  dash  of  pepper, 
J4  c.  fresh  bread  crumbs,  l<i  c. 
Miracle  \^  hip  Salad  Dress-  \ 
ing,  2  tbsps.  catsup,  dash  of  i 
^  orcestershire  sauce.  Form 
into  4  patlies;  broil  6  to  8 
minutes  on  each  side. 


With  a  knife,  slit  a  package 
of  Kraft  De  Luxe  Slices  on 
three  sides.  You  have  8  exact 
sandwich -size  slices  .  .  .  per- 
fect . . .  extra  delicious!  That's 
because  these  sHces  are  not 
cut  from  a  loaf  but  formed 
right  as  the  fine  process  cheese 
comes  from  the  pasteurizers! 


Place  each  patty  on  lower 
half  of  bun;  lop  wilh  a  Kraft 
De  Luxe  Slice.  Notice  how 
perfectly  these  slices  separate 
—  ''easy  as  peeling  a  banana"! 
Place  under  low  broiler  heat 
along  w  ilh  lop  halves  of  buns 
(cut -side  up)  unlil  slices  begin 
to  melt  and  buns  are  toasted. 


Kewrap  your  remaining 
Kraft  De  Luxe  Slices — press 
the  wrapper  around  ihem 
snugly.  They'll  keep  beauli- 
fully  Uit  another  cheese  treat. 
Kraf  I  De  Luxe  Slices  are  extra 
good  "keepers"  because  their 
surfaces  have  never  been 
roughed  up  wilh  a  knife! 


.S<>lf-Examinii<ion  PuyN  4lf( 

Winchester,  Massachusetts 
Dear  Editors:  My  deepest  gratitude 
to  you  for  printing  the  artick',  St-lf- 
I^xaiiiination  for  Cancer  of  the  Breast.  I 
I  (inii)larriitly  read,  and  then  oxainincd 
iinself.  To  niy  chagrin,  there  was  a 
hiinp.  At  my  surgeon's  suggestion,  it 
was  removed  in  a  very  few  days  and  I 
was  told  how  very  fortunate  I  was  to 
liave  detected  the  himp  in  such  an 
early  stage.  Continued  self-examination 
and  an  examination  by  a  surgeon  once 
every  six  months  was  recommended. 

I  wonder  how  many  of  your  readers 
were  thus  affected? 

Very  sincerelv, 
NAME  WITHHELD 

►  ^4  considerahle  numlier,  says  our 
Redder  lulitor.  ivlio  offers  to  photolitli 
this  article  at  )  c<'nts  a  copy  for  anyone 
who  missed  it.  when  our  [>resent  suf>- 
ply  of  tear  sheets  is  exhausted.  I'lD. 

YiHinii  l*<M>l 

Glyndon,  Maryland 
Dear  Sir:  My  son  has  just  left  for 
boot  camp  at  Bainljridge,  Maryland. 
Straightening  his  room,  I  came  upon 
this  poem  which  he  wrote  a  few  days 
ago  while  waiting  his  turn  in  our 
small-town  doctor's  office.  It  is  senti- 
mental, I  grant  you.  Sincerely. 

HELEN  .\.  BELLOWS 


"If  1  shoiiUl  dream  .  . 

IN  A  DOCTOR'S  WAITING  ROOM 
By  Peter  Bellows 

There's  nothing  softer  than  a  mother's 
lap 

For  a  towheaded  hoy  who  needs  a  nap; 
Tousled  hair  pressed  against  gingham 
gown, 

Dreaming  already,  his  head  sinks  down. 
While  long  lashes  close  out  llie  world  of 
today 

For  stars  and  monns  and  the  Milky  Way. 
He's  a  jet  air  pilot,  the  ace  of  the  team. 
Master  of  all.  If  I  sliould  dream, 
Fd  be  a  hoy  and  awake  as  such 
Instead  of  a  man,  worth  not  (piite  so 
much. 

.X«'V«»r  l'n«l«'r«'»tiinate — 

Portland.  (Oregon 
Dear  Editors :  Here  Ua  jic  i  -oual  inci- 
dent of  year.s  ago.  W'e  weir  in  Colo- 
rado, traveling  only  short  distances 
each  day.  in  order  to  see  all  the  natural 
wonders.  It  was  a  hot  September  after- 
noon; the  da\-  coach  into  Grand  Junc- 
tion was  crcnvdefl.  We  came  to  a  small 
station.  A  woman  entered,  and  took 
the  only  empty  place,  three  seats 
ahead  of  me.  She  was  well  dressed,  and 
wore  a  large  picture  hat.  At  the  next 
station,  she  rose  and  left  the  train.  I 
noticed  that  she  was  carrying  a  L.xdies' 


Home  Journ.\l.  "Another  person  who 
likes  the  best,"  I  thought. 

"Do  you  know  who  that  was?"  said 
the  conductor.  "She's  'Silver  Belle,' 
just  out.  She  served  her  sentence  for 
holding  up  the  Silverton  stage  coach, 
singlehanded  ! "    Sincerely  yours, 

FLORENCE  KLEMER 

►  You  might  sav  she  was  once  more 
in  circulation.  ED. 


4>ifi«>tl  llaby 

Dear  Editor :  At  first  it  seemed  I  had 
only  a  touch  of  virus  X.  I  went  to  the 
doctor  on  the  corner  and  he  gave  me  a 
shot  of  penicillin  and  a  bill  for  seven- 
teen dollars.  But  I  didn't  get  better.  I 
had  nau.sea,  dizzy  spells  and  my  stom- 
ach capriciously  rejected  breakfast, 
lunch  and  dumer.  Trying  not  to  worry 
my  husband,  my  panic  mounted  day 
by  day.  I  knew  I  had  cancer. 

Timidly  I  forced  myself  to  the  office 
of  a  woman  doctor. 

"What  do  you  think  is  wrong,  doc- 
tor?" 

"There's  nothing  .vrong  with  you," 
she  said,  smiling.  "You're  going  to 
have  a  baby." 

I  was  astonished.  We  had  given  up 
thoughts  of  a  baby  years  before.  .\ 
baby ! 

Then  clouding  my  happiness  came 
the  wretched  thought  of  money.  Cau- 
tiously, I  inquired  the  price  of  babies 
ctuiently.  The  doctor  quoted  her  fee 
and  the  estimated  cost  of  the  hospital. 
1  was  prepared  for  anything — but  the 
total  cost  for  baby  was  going  to  be  less 
than  the  cost  of  a  refrigerator.  But  our 
personal  debts!  The  doctor  was  ada- 
mant that  I  no  longer  work.  I  could 
sec  notes  unmet  and  mortgage  pay- 
ments delinciuent.  I  went  home  with 
fighting  dismay. 

1  told  my  husband  and  his  reaction 
was  unexpected.  My  almost  penurious 
spoHst'  was  beaming.  He  was  idiotic  in 
liis  cleli.i.;ht  and  rapture.  He  waved  my 
wiirries  aside  with  a  grandiose  gesture. 

"l£\  ei  y  baby  comes  with  a  sack  of 
i^iild  on  lii^  back."  he  said.  "Old  Span- 
ish proverb  -translated.  Papa's  gotta 
hustle  harder ! " 

.\  week  went  by.  I  felt  splendid.  I 
took  spirited  walks  and  passed  out 
l)ulletiu'<  on  my  health  to  friends  and 
relatives.  Unfortunately,  after  I  learned 
about  baby,  not  a  single  interesting 
symptom  did  I  develop.  I  returned  to 
my  original  state  of  being  disgustingly 
healthy.  A  few  old  friends  seemed  a  bit 
disappointed,  but  assured  me  that  I 
probably  would  have  a  very  bad  time 
at  delivery.  I  didn't  care.  It  was  only 
our  bills  that  nagged  my  mind. 

Then  my  husband  came  home  one 
evening  enthusiastic.  He'd  located  a 
part-time  job  that  would  blend  with 
his  work  and  the  increased  pay  would 
liquidate  our  debts  in  a  few  months. 
(Jur  baby  would  arrive  free  of  mort- 
gage and  time  payments! 

Next  a  neighbor  volunteered  to  gi\  e 
us  all  the  baljy  furniture  we  could  pos- 
sibly use  if  we  would  haul  it  from  his 
attic.  Would  we! 

My  mother  with  the  aplomb  of  a 
statesman  began  to  maneuver  back- 
ward relatives  into  showers  for  the 
soon-to-be-mother. 

I  was  embarrassed  by  her  cold  cal- 
culations, but  mamma  was  undaunted 
and  her  efforts  indicated  our  baby 
would  be  sumptuously  dressed  at  little 
cost  to  his  parents. 

My  husband  called  me  one  morning 
from  his  office  in  a  great  state  of  anima- 
tion. He  had  found  a  lovely  home  with 
no  down  payment.  I  inspected  the 
(Contimied  on  Page  6) 


I   \  I)  I  I 


"    "Ml        I    u    \     H    \    \  I 


Dt^t  k  iOf)^  With 

(ALL  THE  GREASE-CUTTING  POWER  OF  THE 
BEST-KNOWN  WASHDAY  DETERGENTS) 


.^hcf  Dtoft  i£  oh!  w 
&\FE  hot  fny  hmck/^ 

(A  MIRACLE  DETERGENT  COMPLETELY  FREE 


OF  HARSH  INGREDIENTS) 


Now 


gives  both- gleaming  dishes,  safety  for  hands! 


You  get  your  wish!  New  DREFT  has  all  the 
grease-cutting  power  of  best-known  washday 
detergents— AND  a  new  safety  for  your  hands! 

NEW,  MILDER  DREFT  is  a  special  dishwashing  deter- 
gent with  a  new  plus  .  . . 

WONDERFULLY  SAFE!  When  you  use  DREFT  in  your 
dishpan,  you're  giving  your  hands  much  the  same  safe 
care  you  demand  for  your  finest  fabrics.  DREFT  is 
SAFER,  for  dainty  pastel  silk  and  nylon  washables, 
than  any  soap,  any  washday  detergent.  SAFER,  by 
actual  tests,  than  the  mildest  soap  flakes  made ! 


WONDERFULLY  EFFICIENT!  Yet  with  all  its  new 

SAFETY,  no  soap  — no  other  detergent  can  get  dishes 
cleaner!  Rich,  instant-sudsing  DREFT  cuts  grease 
like  a  whiz,  gets  dishes  shiny-bright— without  wiping! 
No  soapy  scum,  no  film.  No  greasy  dishpan  ring.  And 
your  hands  are  so  SAFE  in  DREFTS  gentle  suds. 

NO  HARSH  INGREDIENTS  OF  ANY  KIND!  That  s 
why  DREFT  is  so  safe. 

GET  NEW,  MILDER  DREFT!-and  get  both!  If  you've 
been  wishing  for  a  miracle  detergent  that's  wonder- 
fully efficient  AND  wonderfully  safe,  it's  here!  Get 
new,  milder  DREFT  today,  and  see  for  yourself. 


SAFEST 
POSSIBLE 
SUDS  YOU 
CAN  BUY 


for  precious  silks  and  nylons. 
HANDS  love  it  for  dishes! 


I'eoruary, 


says  Elsa  Maxwell  —  Internationally  Famous  Hostess 


CREVETTES  AU  CHAMPIGNON 

Fill  large,  fresh  mushroom  nips 
n'ilh  diced,  cooked  shrimp.  Gar- 
nish with  chopped  parsley.  Heat 
through  and  serve. 

FRIANDISE  GRILLe'e  —Alternate 
slices  of  cheese  and  ham  between 
slices  of  bread.  Cut  into  strips. 
Dip  into  seasoned  egg  and  milk 
mixture.  Brown  on  both  sides. 


It'S  easy  to  entertain  and  have  fun 
with  your  guests,  too,"  says  Elsa  Maxwell. 
"I  prepare  hot  hers  d'oeuvres  right  at  the 
table,  so  that  I'm  never  away  from  the 
party.  Next  time  you  entertain,  surprise 
your  guests  with  some  of  my  new  recipes. 

"Cook-a-matic's  large  capacity  is  a  won- 
derful help  at  parties,  for  snacks  and  family 
meals.  You  really  should  have  one." 


UNIVERSAL 

LANDERS,  FRARY  &  CLARK,  NEW  BRITAIN,  CONN. 


Get  this  FREE  book 

"ENTERTAINING  HINTS" 

Ask  your  Universal  dealer 
for  your  FREE  copy  of  this 
interesting  book  .  .  .  moke 
your  entertaining  more  fun. 


(Continued  from  Page  4) 
lovely  house  with  its  rose  velvet  wall-to- 
wall  carpet,  the  enclosed  yard  and  the 
Etoile  de  Paris  rose  climbing  the  garage 
wall.  It  was  unbelievable.  But  the  owner 
was  leaving  town  and  would  just  as  soon 
have  his  money  in  a  mortgage  on  his  own 
home.  Our  references  were  acceptable. 

I  recalled  all  my  misgivings  and  I  sat 
down  on  the  front  step  of  our  new-home- 
to-be  and  began  to  bawl  loudly.  Big  gusty 
sobs  and  splashing  tears.  I  couldn't  explain 
to  my  frantic  husband. 

I  was  thinking  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
Spanish  in  knowing  that  babies  always  ar- 
rive with  a  bag  of  gold.  Ours  was  to  be  no 
exception.  Sincerely, 

MRS.  F.  A.  WOODEN 


Knit  for  a  Korean  Child? 

Asbury  Park,  New  Jersey 

Dear  Editors:  Last  August  my  wife  and 
I  read  a  message  from  a  U.  S.  Marine 
officer  stationed  in  Korea. 

He  wrote,  "Let  the  people  at  home 
know!  Let  them  know  about  the  forlorn 
little  bundles  of  rags  existing  on  scraps 
from  the  garbage  dumps  .  .  .  about  the 
haunted  animal  look  and  blue  hands  of  the 
tots  .  .  .  holler  Help!" 

This  brief  heart-rending  story  prompted 
our  immediate  action.  We  started  our  lit- 
tle knitting  project  with  only  six  women. 
Little  did  we  know  how  it  would  grow  in 
such  a  short  time.  Since  my  last  letter 
many  exciting  things  have  happened,  in- 
cluding a  meeting  and  letter  of  commen- 
dation from  Col.  Ben  C.  Limb,  Ambassa- 
dor at  Large  to  the  L'N  from  the  Republic 
of  Korea,  and  several  radio  and  television 
appearances. 

Now  volunteers  are  writing  us  from  all 
over  the  nation  and  even  from  Europe,  so 

II.  S.  ARMY  PHOTO 


Help  keep  hint  warm. 

our  little  project  has  become  national  and 
international  in  scope.  Mrs.  Syngman  Rhce 
has  just  asked  us  for  six  complete  sets  to 
demonstrate  our  work. 

Our  goal  is  to  have  a  million  women 
knitting  for  the  destitute  Korean  waifs, 
using  colorful  leftover  bits  of  wool. 

We  feel  that  if  just  two  plain  American 
folk,  without  benefit  or  organization,  can 
accomplish  so  much  in  such  a  short  time, 
your  readers  could  knit  together  a  "  billion 
stitches  of  warmth  for  our  little  Korean 
friends."  Sincerely, 

WILLIAM  J.  SNEIDER 

►  /?o.sp  and  William  Sneider,  whose  son 
is  an  officer  in  Korea,  own  a  yarn  shop  in 
Asbury  Park,  New  Jersey,  whence  this 
movement  spread.  In  collaboration  with 
Korean  authorities  they  have  prepared  a 
flier  giving  directi(ms  for  knitting  mittens 
and  suraters  in  Korean  style  from  scraps 
and  telling  you  where  to  send  them.  Ask 
for  one  thnnigh  the  JoiiR?*AL.  There  are 
now  more  than  300,000  destitute  Korean 
ivaifs.  ED. 


RiglilN  for  Girls 

Brooklyn,  New  York 
Dear  Editor:  I  have  come  upon  an  idea 
for  a  story  for  the  Ladies'  Home  Journal. 
Although  I  am  only  eleven  years  old,  I 
hope  my  age  will  not  interfere. 

In  your  nuigazine  you  have  a  section, 
Political  Pilgrim's  Progress.  I  think  it  is 
wonderful. 

Politics  in  an  indirect  manner  has  some- 
thing to  do  with  my  story.  Like  my  fellow 
students,    I    have   always  admired  the 
(Continued  on  Page  8) 


How  to  make 
a  pie  stiell  that 
will  not  shrink 


—  another  pie-baking 
hint  from  Marie  Gilford, 
Armour's  famous 
home  economist 


Bake  your  next  pie  shell  between  two  p  i  ws 
pans  of  equal  size  —  and  it  won't  shrir 
bit.  Simply  fit  the  pie  dough  into  one  pi 
without  stretching.  Crimp  the  edges  wil 
the  tines  of  a  fork.  Then  place  the  secoij 
pan  lightly  on  top.  After  8  minutes  of  ba 
ing  time  remove  the  top  pan  to  allow  tl 
pie  shell  to  brown. 


Make  your  next  pie  shell  with  Armoi  i 
Star  Lard  — and  it  will  be  tender,  flaki 
especially  rich  and  delicious.  Armour  St« 
Lard  is  the  lard  so  many  State  Fair  pil 
baking  champions  use.  And  only  Armovi 
Star  Lard  comes  in  the  handy  self-measu 
ing  cartons  —  with  Marie  Gifford's  famoi 
5-minute  pie  crust  recipe  printed  on  ther 
It's  an  easy,  can't-fail  recipe  —  exactly  tl: 
right  recipe  for  this  neiu-type  lard  thj 
needs  no  refrigeration.  You  mix  all  ii 
gredients  at  room  temperature. 


Got  a  pie-baking  question  ?  Just  writ 
to  Marie  GifFord,  Dept.  581,  Box  2051 
Armour  and  Company,  Chicago  9,  Illinoi 
—  for  her  Picture  Book  of  Pie-Makir^\^ 
Hints.  It's  free! 


Now  available  in 
economical  3-lb.  tins  — 
as  well  as  the  handy  1-lb. 
self-measuring  carton. 


Armour  Stat 
Lard 


I.   \  I)   I  i: 


"Ml         J     ((     I      K     N     \  I 


\\v\^\\\  ,111(1  lively  T-Up  i.s  "rinlil  down  your  ;illcy"  wlicllier 
you're  out  liowliriK  willi  (lie  r.iinily  ...  or  li.iving  your  fun  at 
home.  CryHl.il-cle.ir  mikI  Hparklinj,',  7-Up  iw  ho  pure,  ho  good, 
8o  wholcHoine  IhuL  loIkH  of  all  aj<eH  can  "freHh  iij/'  oflen! 


Kill  l',ir>:i  liy  Thi'  .M,.v..ii-IIii  V  iii.ny 


-or  in  the  handy  7-Up  Family  Pack 
f  24  bottles.  Family  supply,  easy- 
lift  center  handle,  easy-to-store. 


II     ()     M  K 


J    O    I     I?    N    \  T, 


Fehriinry,  J  95  t 


vJ 


Many  women  feel  uneasy  in  the  too-obvious 
look  of  a  lieavY  make-up.  If  voiirs  is  a 
complexion  that  doesn't  hke  a  heavv 
foundation — you'll  love  this  feather-light 
powder  base  !  Before  you  powder,  smooth 
on  a  protective  film  of  Pond's  Vanishing 
Cream.  Fluffy-white  in  the  jar,  it  disappears 
at  once  .  .  .  leaving  a  wonderfully  soft, 
adherent,  greaselcss  base  for  your  powder. 
No  streaking  or  discoloring.  No  shade 
problem.  Your  complexion  looks  finer- 
textured,  smooth,  sweetly  natural! 
And  it  stays  lovely,  hours  longer! 


The  lovely  (lauj^hter  of  a 
Srottish  Earl  lias  a  delirate, 
fine-textiir<>(l  skin  that  looks 
its  loveliest  in  thr  soltest, 
most  natural  kind  of  make-up. 
For  her  powder  base.  Lady 
Maureen  chooses  Pond's  Van- 
ishing Cream.  "Besides  pro- 
tecting the  skin,  Pond's 
Vanishing  Cream  holds  powder 
for  hours,"  Lady  Maureen 
says.  "No  other  make-up  base 
is  so  naturally  flattering." 


Special  one-minute  facial 

clears  oflF 
"choked"  pore  openings 

Now — Pond's  brings  you  a  remarkable  at- 
home  treatment  that  clears  off  clinging  dirt 
and  dead  skin  particles— brightens,  lightens, 
freshens  your  skin.  Just  cover  face,  except 
eyes,  with  a  lavish  1-Minute  Mask  of  Pond's 
Vanishing  Cream.  Its  "keratolytic"  action 
loosens  and  dissolves  off  dried,  dead  skin  cells 
from  choked  pore  openings.  After  one  min- 
ute, tissue  the  Mask  off.  See  how  much  more 
alive  your  skin  lo<5ks,  so  exquisitely 
smoothed  for  make-up! 

SEE — on  your  own  hands — the  "keratolytic^'  action  of 
Pond's  I  nnishin/:  (.ream!  Chappinfis,  raffled  cuticle 
dissolve  off.  Hands  look  silky-smooth,  whiter! 


(Continued  from  Page  6) 
safety  guard  at  my  school  and  always 
wanted  to  be  one.  But  as  the  women  of 
yesteryear  could  not  vote,  I  could  not  be 
a  safety  guard  because  of  my  sex.  But 
that  did  not  stop  me. 

My  first  step  was  to  find  out  if  there 
could  be  girl  safety  guards.  The  teacher 
in  charge  said  that  she  would  find  out 
from  the  A. A. A.  and  so  it  \Vent  on.  The 
assistant  principal  said  that  she  couldn't 
do  anything.  Here  is  where  you  come 
in  if  you  could  [)rint  a  small  article  about 
this  in  your  magazine  it  would  help  many 
girls  in  the  same  predictment  as  me. 

Yours  truly, 
LINDA  ROTHMAN 

Fnn  Mail 

A'erv  York  City 
Dear  Editors:  May  I  say  again  I  do 
enjoy  every  page  of  your  publication? 
Even  now  Giant  is  finished,  I  always  have 
Miss  Taber's  warm,  wonderful  style  of 

UNITED  PRESS  PHOTO 


Shirley  Booth,  Journal  Fan. 

writing  to  treasure;  but  then,  of  course,  I 
could  go  on  throughout  the  entire  publi- 
cation, so  before  ynu  think  me  too  effusive, 
may  I  just  .say  tliank  ycni  and  run. 

.Sincerely  yours, 
SHIRLEY  BOOTH 

Ktlitor  in  Intlin 

Hotel  Cecil,  Delhi 
Dear  Beatrice  and  Hrure :  Inrlia  has  l)ern 
.so  much  more  tlian  1  I'xix'ctccl.  I  was  un- 
prepared for  its  wcli-dinc  from  airport  ar- 
rival to  the  \-illai;rr^  w  lm  cdinc  forward  to 
show  me  tln'ir  urancU  liilihcn  .  .  ,  l)i-st  of 
all  the  spontaneous  apjilausc  for  the 
JofRN.XL's  stor\-  about  India. 

I  am  working  hard  to  rcalh'  see  what  is 
being  tlone  .  .  .  the  U.  .S.  aifl  programs  can 
be  found. 

Wells  are  being  dug,  dams  built,  \  il- 
lagers  are  getting  better  seeds  and  soil, 
soap  and  .sanitation,  but  on!>'  in  sjiots. 
By  plane,  by  car,  jeep  and  aching  feet, 
I  have  seen  the  brutal  facts  of  p(i\<  rt\ 
and  disease  and  I  have  fi^lt  tlii'  sul)stanrc 
of  the  hope  an<l  courage  in  tlie  people. 
But  time  is  ,so  short.  1  fear,  for  them 
anfl  for  us. 

\'ou  w  ill  want  to  know  that  I  am  well, 
I  like  the  food — sweet  mango  churned, 
curried  goat  meat,  blue  cow.  peacock,  tlie 
spaghettilike  pastry  dripping  with  hot 
siruj).  but  following  your  good  advia'  I 
eat  only  what  is  cooked,  sleep  under 
nios(|uito  netting  and  drink  Ijoiled  water! 

Affectionately, 
A'lARG.^RET  HK'KEY 

►  l  our  friend,  tlw  .Iournm,  I'lilific  Af 
Jiiirs  Editor,  meinln'r  of  the  President's 
International  Development  Advisory 
Hoard,  is  in  India  on  the  Point  II  pro- 
gram. ED. 


DomeNtie  llarom«'tor 

Loiiisrille.  Kentucky 
Dear  Journal:  My  husband  reiKirts  that 
in  our  lumsehold  there's  a  noticeable 
change  in  the  wife's  morale  twice  a  month. 
The  level  is  very  low  at  the  first  when  it's 
time  for  me  to  tackle  the  checkbook  and 
pay  the  bills,  but  it  invariably  shoots  way 
up  when  the  Joi'rnal  arrives. 

I  hadn't  noticed  this  myself,  bat  my 
husband  is  a  discerning  person — that's 
why  he  enjoys  reading  the  Joi  rn'.al  too! 

SincereU', 
ELEANOR  L.  CREESE 


AMAZING  NEW 
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LOW  COST! 

n  R  E  N  G  O  Hi-wAisT 
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Address- 


I.   A    I)    I  K 


II    ()    \I  I 


When  a  COLD  or  SORE  THROAT 

threatens  to  run  through  a  family . . . 


listerine  Antiseptic 


Quick! 
for  Everybody 


THIS  SAFE  ANO  DELIGHTFUL  picc;uition  Can  ofteii 
help  halt  a  "family  epidemic",  or  lessen  its 
jeveiity. 

The  important  thing  is  to  gargle  early  and  often 
3t  the  first  hint  of  trouble. 

Kills  Surface  Germs  in  Throat 

Listerine  Antiseptic  attacks  millions  of  germs  called 
'Secondary  Invaders"  before  they  attack  you . . . 
)ften  helps  forestall  a  mass  inx'asion  of  the  tissues  by 
hese  potentially  troublesome  germs. 

Actual  tests  showed  germ  reductions  on  mouth 
md  throat  surfaces  ranging  up  to  96.7%  even  fifteen 
ninutes  after  the  Listerine  Antiseptic  gargle  — up  to 
10%  an  hour  after. 

Fewer  Colds  for  Listerine  Users  in  Tests 

rhis  germ-killing  power,  we  believe,  accounts 
or  Listerine  Antiseptic's  remarkable  clinical 
est  record  against  colds. 

Tests  made  over  a  period  of  12  years  > 
ihowed  that  those  who  gargled  with  Listerine  | 
Antiseptic  twice  daily  had  fewer  colds  and  | 
generally  had  milder  colds  than  those  who  * 
iid  not  gargle  .  .  .  and  fewer  sore  throats. 

At  the  first  sign  of  a  cold  or  sore  throat  due  to  a  cold . . . 
t's  Listerine  Antiseptic  for  everyone.  It  may  save  your 
mtirc  family  a  siege  of  trouble.  Lambert  Pharmacal 
Company  Division  of  The  Lambert  Company,  St. 
Louis  6,  Missouri.  . 


SOME  OF  THE  "SECONDARY  INVADERS 

Te.s  showed  thot  even 

Antiseptic  gargle  ^oc  „,,e,word  as  much 

were  reduced  up  to  96.7  h.  an  ^^^^  surfaces 

:r80%.  Among  ''°r:::„rary  ?n  aders,"  some  of  which 

con  be  many  of  the    seconclo  Y  ^^^^^ 

^'°*::cVof  a    old  s  misery  when  they  -nvade  the 
cause  so  mucn  oi  " 
body  through  throat  t,ssoe. 


( SAO  B/?£ATH) 


Use  LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC ...  no  matter  what  else  you  do. 


Do  you  know  why  Listerine  Antiseptic  is  better?  Because 
the  most  common  cause  of  Halitosis  is  germs  .  .  .  that's 
right,  germs  start  the  fermentation  of  proteins  always 
present  in  your  mouth. 

Listerine  kills  germs  that  cause  that  fermentation  .  .  . 
kills-them  bv  the  millions.  Brushingyour  teeth  doesn't  give 
you  this  antiseptic  protection.  Chlorophyll,  chewing  gums 
don't  kill  germs.  Listerine  does. 


That's  why  Listerine  stops  Halitosis  instantly  .  .  .  and 
usually  for  hours.  That's  why  Listerine  Antiseptic  aver- 
aged four  times  better  than  the  leading  chlorophyll  prod- 
ucts it  was  tested  against. 

So,  if  you  want  really  effective  protection  against 
Halitosis  ...  no  matter  what  else  you  mav  use  .  .  .  use 
an  antiseptic  .  .  .  Listerine  Antiseptic,  the  most  widely 
used  antiseptic  in  the  world. 


Every  week  on  Radio  and  Television  Enjoy — "THE  ADVENTURES  OF  OZZIE  &  HARRIET"  See  your  poper  for  time  and  station 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  195'c 


its  apleasure... 
pure  pleasure ! 


"The  whole  family  agrees  on  Ivory! 


I  I 


joiinii 


|{\  HI'.NJ AMIN  W  KI.I.KS 

l\iris  !\fii'  \  iti  I,   Tirnrs  i'lm'inu  ('i}rrfsinuiili-nl 

As  Cvw.  I).  I'.iscnliower  assumes  llio 

£\_  prcsiclciicy,  and  with  it  llio  most  awful 
power  ever  vested  in  one  man,  it  is  useful  to 
conteiTiplalc  liis  remarkable  achievement  as 
"Saeeur"  (Supreme  Allied  Commander,  Eu- 
rope) i)el\veen  January,  1951,  when  he  flew  to 
France  lo  lak<-  up  the  task,  and  eigiiteen  months 
later  in  .Intic.  l')r)2,  wlien  lie  and  Mamie 
hoarded  the  (lolumhinc  and  llcw  hack  lo  "a 
liif^lu'r  dntv." 

A  few  weeks  after  his  arrival  in  Europe, 
Kisenliower  was  ins[)ecling  an  army  unit  in 
Helfiiuui.  I'lankcd  hy  (lif;nitaries  and  gold- 
hraided  gctierals,  he  saw  first  the  officers'  quar- 
ters, then  the  men's  barracks. 

His  (]uick  eye  noticed  the  army  blankets 
neatly  folded  at  the  foot  of  each  soldier's  bed. 
He  fingered  one. 

"Aren't  these  blankets  thinner  tlian  those  I 
just  saw  in  the  officers'  quarters?"  he  asked. 

Yes,  was  the  reply.  By  tradition,  ofhcers' 
blankets  were  superior  to  those  issued  men. 

"Does  that  mean,"  Eisenhower  asked 
quietly,  "that  the  officers  get  colder  than  the 
men?" 

The  first  Supreme  Allied  Commander  had 
shown  in  homespun,  penetrating  words  his 
basic  philosophy:  a  belief  in  the  dignity  of  man, 
in  complete  equality,  in  fairness. 

What  made  Dwight  Eisenhower,  aged  60, 
quit  the  presidency  of  Columbia  University 
to  take  up  again  the  military  leadership  of  an 
Allied  world;  divided,  unprepared,  almost 
leaderless? 

The  likelihood  of  another  quick  "Korea"  in 
Germany  was  the  nightmare  facing  Truman  and 
other  American  leaders  after  the  communist 
attack  in  Asia,  June,  1950.  Americans  decided 
the  North  Atlantic  Treaty,  signed  the  previous 
spring,  must  be  given  teeth;  Germany  must  be 
rearmed;  Russia  must  be  lield  at  bay. 

To  turn  the  slow-moving,  loose  fraternity  of 
NATO  into  a  tough,  disciplined,  fighting  force 
ready  to  check  the  Soviet  menace  in  Europe,  a 
military  giant  was  needed.  Only  one  man  was 
possible — Eisenhower.  Unanimously  NATO 
leaders  asked  for  him.    (Conlinued  on  Page  136) 


"Vcrinoiil  Covered  Hridfic,"  lillic>gr;i|ili  liy  \  ii  lnria  ilul--iiii  lliinllcy,  A.  N.  A.,  ivlin  in  r<-|iri"<i-iilr<l 
in  the  M<'tro[«)liliiri  and  Wtiilncy  Museums,  and  tlie  (lliiraf;(i  liiHlitulc.  'I'liiH  liriil^)'  Hjiann  ihe 
OllauquiTlu'C!  Kiver  at  'I'aflsville,  Vl.,  near  Woddstock,  r<-|iuli-(l  lo  have  lii-i-n  liuill  aroijiid  18.10. 
Oriflinal  lithograpli,  8?<t"  x  12",  may  lie  piircliasi-d  ffir  SI.'),  frfnii  Kcniii-ilv  fiulleries.  N.Y.  Cily. 


Do  Our  Si  IiooIk  XooiI  an  Si^S'i 


Hy  DOKOTIIY  TIIOMPSOiN 

Never,  in  my  memory,  have  the  [)ublic  schools  been  the  ceiilerofsucli  acrimoni- 
ous debate  as  they  are  at  present.  In  one  single  issue  of  a  metropolitan  newspaper, 
I  read  the  following  headlines: 

Educators  Assail  Schoolbook  Censors. 
M'Carran  Assails  Red  School  Nests. 
Prayer  in  Schools  Still  Unsettled. 

National  magazines  lake  up  the  cry.  One  SOS's  "Save  Our  Schools,"  and 
suggests — with  plentiful  illustrations — that  they  are  in  grave  danger  from 
sinister  persons  and  organizations  of  fascist  tendency,  whose  purpose,  via  "red 
baiting"  and  "witch  hunting,"  is  to  undermine  and  destroy  them. 

Another  magazine  of  wide  circulation  SOS's  from  the  opposite  front  an 
indictment  that  public-school  pupils  are  being  conditioned,  via  "progressive 
education,"  for  bureaucratic  collectivism,  that  this  objective  was  deliberately 
planned  by  a  group  of  educators  at  Teachers  College.  Columbia  University,  in  1933 
(when  many  in  the  country  turned  leftward):  that  school  textbooks  are  replete 
with  "anti-American"  material,  and  that  the  general  attitude  of  the  educational 
progressives  encourages  communist  infiltration  into  public-school  faculties. 

Meanwhile  young  William  F.  Buckley,  Jr.,  and  Nancy  Fellers  have  written 
God  and  Man  at  Yale,  and  God  and  Woman  at  Vassar,  supporting  the  accusation 
that  parents  who  send  their  children  to  costly  universities  are  having  them 
indoctrinated  against  the  credos  of  the  (Continued  on  Page  14) 


Executive  Editor.  Mary  Bass  •  Managing  Editor,  Laura  Lou  Brookman 
Associate  Editors:  Hugh  MacNair  Kahler,  Bernardine  Kielty,  Ann  Batchelder,  W.lhela  Cushman,  WiU.am  E.  F.nk,  Richard  Pratt.  Henrietta  Nlurdock.  Louella  G.  Shouer,  Mary  Lea  Page. 
Dawn  Crowell  Norman.  John  Godfrey  Morris,  Margaret  Davidson.  Nora  O'Leary,  Barbara  Benson,  Glenn  Matthew  W  hite.  Donald  Stuart.  Ru.h  Imler 
Contr.hutwi  Editors:  Gladys  Taber,  Louise  Paine  Benjamin.  Gladys  Denny  Shultz.  Margaret  Hickey  Betty  K.dd.  Ruth  M.Us  Teague 
Editorial  Associates:  John  Werner,  Charlotte  Johnson,  Ruth  Mary  Packard,  Ruth  Shapley  Matthews.  Alice  Cor.kl.ng,  Joseph  D.  P.etro,  Anne  Einselen,  Betty  N.les  Gray. 

Elizabeth  Goetsch,  Nancv  Crawford.  Cynthia  McAdoo 
Assistant  Editors:  Charles  Stryker  Ingerman,  Victoria  Harris,  Virginia  Carr.  June  Torrey.  Rosemary  Jones.  Nelle  Keys  Perry  Peter  Briggs.  Alice  Kastberg.  Adnna  Casparian. 

Virginia  Price  Marion  Wilson,  Janice  H.  Bauder,  Dorothy  Anne  Robinson,  Jean  Todd  Freeman 
Editorial  Assistants  Lee  StoweU  CuUen,  Dolores  Knapp,  Patricia  Martin.  Aileen  Dowd,  June  Schwartz,  Gretchen  Wehler,  Babette  Bnmberg 


r  Kuruary 


New  1953  Dodge  Meadowhrook  "Six"  Club  Coupe 


Far  and  away. . .  the  moh 


New  1953  Chrysler  New  Yorker  De  Luxe  Newport 


i3  Plvninulli  (liMTihrook  ('orivcitilili-  C.luli  ('imi|ii 


xciting  to  own 


S.i  DeSoto  iMieDoine  V-8  Club  Coupe 


•  III  llic  lurw  (ihrynlrr 

( .Mr|>iirulion  rar»,  you  uill  finil 
a  iiii  ctiii^'  |iiiiiit  (if  rtiiK-lioii 
anil  l.iHliioM  tluti  in  iiii- 
a|)|it  iiai  lied  jjy  any  «»llier  cars. 
Vdi  ll  fitiil  iii(oin|>atiililr 
luxury  .  .  .  licciiiM-  iif  I  iinifurt- 
Icvfl  H«>Ht«,  ariipip  licail-rooin, 
■  i^<-  of  i  Mli.iiir  c,  paw  of  fxit. 

•  II  find  in  f,iir  ran* 

iiiMii\ ,il ion-  llial  Mi.iki-  (ilirysipr 
fri;.'irircriii;;  llu;  mii-*l  cxcilin}: 
of  our  flay.  Surli  a«  fiill-timp. 
powfr  stpcrinp.  Ma^jnifici-nt 
jioucr  lirakinp.  Safrlv-rim  wlicrl.s 
tlwil  liold  onlii  a  iiiiiicliircd 
tire  iinlil  \ou  can  slop  safclv. 
-New.  oxclusivo  shock  alisorbers 
that  put  a  layer  of  clouds 
under  the  wheels. 

•  You'll  fiiid  a  |)erre<  tiori  that 
stands  the  closest  inspection— 
for  every  element  of  these 
cars  is  designed  to  go  together 
and  fit  together  to  a  degree 
unique  in  the  industry.  You'll 
find  more  for  your  money, 
from  bumper  to  ^)umper; 
even  in  the  most  thriftv  |)rice 
range  of  all.  the  new  Plvmouth 
in  its  price  class  brings  you 
many  more  fine  car  features 
than  are  offered  by 

anv  other  cars. 

•  Here,  for  dri\  er  and 
passenger,  is  the  deepest  and 
most  lasting  satisfaction 
money  can  buy. 


PLYMOUTH 
nODGE 
DE  SOTO 
CHKVSI.Ek 


IRYSLER  CORPORATION  •  STARRING  IN  STVLK  FOR  195.3 


To  the  woman  who  longs  to  drop  years  from  her  age. 

i    New  wonder  cosmetic 


I  brings  youth-giving 

I  moisture  to  aging 

I 

I  or  drying-out  skins 


Remarkable  new  formula  acts  like  a  ^fountain  of  youth^^  for  your  skin! 


hen  you  scrutinize  your  face 
in  the  mirror  and  see  creeping  hues 
around  your  eyes,  a  fading  look  to 
your  skin — you're  truly  fright- 
ened. But  now  you  can  take  new 
hope!  For,  just  as  science  has 
discovered  new  wonder  drugs  to 
lengthen  our  Jife  span,  so  Revlon 
has  developea  a  new  ivonder  cos- 
metic to  help  your  complexion 
stay  young-looking  longer  than 
you  ever  dreamed ! 

Here's  the  secret  of  young  skin 

A  baby's  skin  is  lusciously  smooth 
because  it  contains  a  high  per- 
centage of  moisture.  Tragically, 
this  moisture  diminishes  every 
day  you  live.  Obviously,  then,  if 
you  want  to  look  younger,  you 
must  replenish  your  skin's  inner 
moisture  every  day. 

Brings  quick,  lasting  results 

And  that's  just  what  "Moon- 
Drops"does,  almost  miraculously ! 


The  moment  this  greaseless  flow- 
ing cream  touches  your  face,  you 
feel  the  moisture  flow  into  your 
skin,  helping  it  look  smoother, 
fresher — years  younger ! 

Beautifies  24  hours  a  day 

Let  "Moon-Drops"  do  its  beauti- 
fying work  all  day,  all  night. 
Smooth  it  on.  It  disappears  in- 
stantly, with  no  trace  of  grease  on 
your  skin  or  pillow.  Apply  "Moon- 
Drops"  in  the  morning,  too  .  .  . 
wear  it  all  day  under  your  make- 
up. It  works  to  give  your  skin  a 
young,  dewy  look  24  hours  a  day ! 

"Moon-Drops"  is  so  economical 
to  use  —  and 
you'U  say  every 
drop  is  worth 
its  weight  in 
gold !  Discover 
"Moon-Drops" 
today.  Just 
3.00*  and  5.00* 


MOON 
DROPS 


Important!  Cleanse  your  face  with  "W^hite  Sable" 
liquid  cleansing  creme,  1.50*  {with  hormones,  2.25*) 

'Moon-Drops' 


Moisture  Balm 


(Continued  from  Page  11) 
parents  in  a  statist  philosophy,  while  a  re- 
cent case  history,  by  John  Hersey,  of  his 
own  Yale  Class  of  1936  (and  the  case  of 
William  Buckley  himself)  indicates  that 
whatever  indoctrination  they  may  have 
received  against  private  enterprise  rolled 
like  water  off  a  duck's  back  after  they  left 
college. 

In  certain  cities  the  local  schools  have 
come  under  such  fire  that  the  whole  com- 
munity has  been  divided  with  great  bitter- 
ness, investigating  committees  have  been 
set  up,  and  sometimes  several  of  them,  and 
majority  and  minority  reports  have  been 
issued. 

The  religious  issue  draws  fire  pro  and  con. 
The  proposal  in  New  York  State  that  school 
should  be  opened  with  a  short  nonsectarian 
prayer,  invoking  the  blessings  of  Almighty 
God,  is  assailed  on  the  one  hand  as  an 
entering  wedge  against  the  separation  of 
Church  and  Slate  (as  though  God  and 
Church  were  identical),  and  by  some  people 
who  apparently  wish  the  United  States  to 
wit;,draw  from  Christian  civilization  al- 
together; while  others  claim  the  prayer  will 
reduce  juvenile  delinquency,  which  is  an- 
ticipating, out  of  other  contexts,  far  too 
much. 

The  teachers'  profession  organized  in  the 
National  Education  Association  has  taken 
up  arms  in  behalf  of  the  teachers,  their 
curricula  and  their  methods,  thereby  be- 
coming the  target  of  the  opposition,  and  — 
by  what  seems  to  me  oversensitivity— has 
laid  itself  open  to  disregard  of  even  meas- 
ured criticism,  with  the  actual  result  of 
teachers'  passing  the 
buck,  denying  that  they 
are  giving  any  guiding 
precepts  at  all,  and  fall- 
ing back  on  Thomas 
Jefferson's  oath,  "I  have 
sworn  upon  the  altar  of 
God  eternal  hostility 
against  every  form  of 
tyranny  over  the  mind  of 
man,"  "tyranny"  being 
apparently  interpreted  as 
the  introduction  of  any  affirmative  ideas 
associated  with  "Americanism"  into  pop- 
ular education.  We  find  in  this  year's  an- 
nual Report  of  the  Teaching  Profession 
to  the  Public  these  statements: 

"The  public  school  has  a  broad  educa- 
tional program.  The  student  is  given  a  large 
amount  of  freedom  in  selecting  his  studies. 
The  child,  not  the  subject  matter,  is  of 
paramount  concern  in  the  public  school.  .  . . 
The  school  that  subjects  its  students  to  the 
yoke  produces  citizens  who  are  willing  to 
wear  it,"  and  "the  purpose  of  the  public 
schools  is  to  provide  for  students  during 
their  school  life  the  challenges  and  oppor- 
tunities which  have  stimulated  their  fore- 
bears to  renowned  achievement." 

Mt  is  not  my  desire,  in  this  comment,  to 
contribute  more  heat  to  this  discussion. 
No  investigation  that  has  been  made  by 
citizens'  committees  supports  the  charge 
that  the  public  schools  are  riddled  with 
subversives,  red  or  otherwise.  There  are 
communist  teachers  and  communist  sym- 
pathizers in  some  public  schools.  But  there 
are  also  communists  or  their  sympathizers 
among  the  minor  executives  of  corporations, 
on  the  editorial  staffs  of  highly  conservative 
publications,  in  the  leadership  of  a  few  trade- 
unions.  There  are  also  teachers  who  are 
violently  racist,  anti-Negro,  anti-Semitic, 
anti-alien,  anti-Catholic,  or  who  see  "red" 
in  anything  or  everything  done  by  the 
state.  But  both  types  are  a  small  minority. 

Indeed,  the  controversies  over  and  within 
the  public  schools  apparently  reflect  the 
confusion  in  the  American  mind  and  society 
as  a  whole,  and  are  probably  less  a  cause 
than  a  symptom.  That  mind,  more  vola- 
tile, I  think,  than  that  of  most  peoples,  has 
swung  radically  in  various  directions  in  the 
past  generation.  To  take  a  few  illustrations: 
from  extreme  nationalism  and  isolationism 
to  extreme  internationalism  and  interven- 
tionism;  from  rejection  of  the  League  of 
Nations  to  almost  unlimited  faith  in  the 
United  Nations;  from  belief  that  govern- 


00000O00O0 

A  fragment  of  beauty  con- 
tainc  the  whale — as  every 
manifestatian  of  God  is  al- 
ways Divine. 

— AUGUSTE  RODIN 

000©e0©©o0 


ment  has  no  function  within  the  econon 
to  belief  that  it  can  solve  all  its  ills. 

Now,  as  the  last  elections  show,  it ! 
swinging  again,  in  the  more  traditional  aii( 
conservative  direction,  and  this  produc 
new  confusions,  involving  all  public  inst 
tutions. 

But  that  there  is,  and  has  for  a  loi 
time  been,  deep  dissatisfaction  with  o- 
public  schools  can  be  ascertained  by  talkii 
with  almost  any  parent  of  a  public-scho 
child  and  with  very  many  teachers  wh( 
they  speak  as  individuals.  The  former  a 
often  vague  about  what  is  wrong,  makii 
such  remarks  as,  "Since  Johnny  went 
school  his  manners  are  worse,  not  better 
or  "Mary,  who  is  ten,  just  can't  add, 
subtract,  or  make  change,"  or  "They  dor 
seem  to  teach  children  to  spell." 

Teachers,  especially  older  ones,  will  sa 
off  the  record,  and  contradicting  the  of 
cial  opinion  of  the  profession,  "  I  don't  ca 
what  anyone  says,  popular  education  h, 
deteriorated.  Classroom  behavior  and  di 
cipline  are  worse  than  when  I  starU 
teaching,  and  children  are  just  not  learnii 
what  they  should." 

This  view  is  backed  by  many  famous  ed 
cators,  on  the  university  level,  who  d 
cisively  differ  from  the  official  line.  One 
them,  a  man  whose  name  is  known  on  tv 
continents,  recently  said  to  me,  "The  stt 
dents  we  are  getting  from  the  high  schoo' 
are  pulling  down  all  the  standards  c| 
university  education."  [ 
It  is  the  testimony  of  foreigners.  A  reprf 
sentative  of  the  Department  of  Educatici 
of  a  small  country  (\ 
Western  civilizatio; 
spent  two  months  heii 
a  short  time  ago,  stud;' 
ing  our  schools.  I  saw  hii  ^ 
a  few  days  before  he  left 
and  asked  his  impreli 
sions.  "I  have  see 
nothing  here  that  I  ca 
recommend  applyin 
at  home,"  he  sai 
dourly. 

The  public  schools,  I  think,  too  quickl 
reflect  the  transient  political  and  soci; 
changes  of  viewpoint,  and  imprint  them  o 
the  minds  of  children  and  youth  too  your 
and  inexperienced  to  digest  them  except  i 
the  form  of  slogans.  In  my  opinion,  far  to 
much  attention  is  given  to  discussions  ( 
current  affairs  that  result  in  opinionate 
views  by  youngsters  who  have  no  bad 
ground  for  any  valid  judgment,  and  wh 
therefore  merely  echo  the  opinions  of  the 
teachers.  Recently  I  heard  a  group  of  teef 
agers  discussing  whether  Federal  price  an 
wage  controls  should  be  made  permaneni 
Two  of  them  strongly  averred  that  the 
should,  and  when  I  asked  where  the  subjec 
had  come  up,  they  said,  "  In  English  class,' 

and  that  "Mr.  X  had  said   "  Thes 

children  were  no  more  qualified  to  hold  a 
opinion  on  this  subject  (nor,  I  suspect,  wa 
their  teacher)  than  I  am  qualified  to  hoh 
one  on  the  quantum  theory  of  physics,  no 
can  I  imagine  why  such  themes  should  b 
introduced  into  a  class  presumably  to  teacl 
English.  But  English,  I  learned,  was  in 
corporated  in  "social  studies." 

To  go  back  to  this  year's  annual  repori' 
of  the  profession,  and  the  paragraphs 
have  quoted,  which  are  supported  by  th 
context : 

How  "broad"  can  an  educational  pro 
gram  be  for  children  and  youth  aged  fivf 
to  seventeen?  How  much  "freedom  in  se 
lecting  his  studies  "  should  a  child  or  adoles 
cent  have?  What  does  considering  "th( 
child"  as  "paramount  to  the  subject  mat- 
ter" really  mean,  in  practice?  What  is  thf 
"yoke"  to  which  students  may  not  be  sub- 
jected? And  just  how  are  the  public  school; 
fulfilling  the  "purpose"  of  "providing  stu- 
dents during  their  school  life  with  the 
challenges  and  opportunities  which  stimu- 
lated their  forebears  to  renowned  achieve- 
ment"? These  words,  it  seems  to  me,  beg 
fundamental  questions. 

The  challenges  and  opportunities  to  re- 
nowned achievement  are  not  in  the  schools 
(Continued  on  Page  86) 


) 


I,    \    I)     I  l; 


^  *        II     •»     \l     I         I     II     I  UN 


\  I 


W 


WE'LL  BE  THERE  ...  HE  CAME  BY  AIR 


// 


The  treat  is  hotirs  ....  yours  to  enjoy  when  you 
fly  Capital  Airlines.  For  26  years  one  of 
the  nation's  leading  scheduled  airlines. 
Capital  today  offers  fast,  economical  service  between  15  major  cities. 

Save  time  — fly  Capital! 

RD  PeRRBGAUX,  Official  Watch  For  reservations,  call  your  TRAVEL  AGENT  or  . 


g  AIRLINES 


16 


L   A    DTES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February, 


mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 


If  he  asks  you  to  a  house  party  — 

□  Gef  If  in  wrifing  Q  Go  oj  hh  goesf 

All  your  gang's  going  — and  Tom's  heckling 
you  to  come  along.  Trouble  is  (maybe 
because  you're  new  in  town) —somehow 
you've  never  met  the  hostess!  Appear  at 
her  party  as  a  "guest's  guest"?  Tain't 
proper!  A  girl  should  have  a  written  invita- 
tion. On  problem  days,  Kotex  invites  you  to 
be  comfortable— w'nh  softness  that  holds  its 
shape.  You  know,  this  extra-absorbent 
napkin's  made  to  stay  soft  while  you  wear 
it;  whidh  means  you  can  stay  confident, 
whatever  your  party  plans. 


Is  this  doodler  showing  signs  of  — 

I  I  The  Zodiac  Genius  Q  Warning 

"Ain't  he  had  no  fetchin'  up?"  — this  table- 
cloth Michelangelo?  Seems  bruising  good 
linen  doesn't  worry  him  a  bit.  Be  leery  of 
such  telltale  traits.  They're  a  warning  sign: 
show  he's  inconsiderate.  And  when  you're 
buying  sanitary  protection,  sidestep  telltale 
outlines — with  Kotex.  Thanks  to  those  flat 
pressed  ends  there's  no  sign  of  a  line !  What's 
more,  that  special  safety  center  helps  prevent 
"accidents"  —  (hoists  your  poise!). 


To  glamourize  pallid  lashes,  try  a  — 

□  Curling  gadgef  □  lig/if  touch  O  Phony  pair 

Are  your  lashes  too  blonde  to  "register"? 
You  can  give  them  the  plus  they  need  — 
with  a  light  touch  of  mascara.  No  beady 
look,  please  !  Rub  lashes  with  a  Kleenex* 
tissue  after  applying  the  winker-paint.  And 
if  you'd  wink  at  "calendar"  worries  — choose 
Kotex  — in  just  the  absorbency  you  need. 
Try  all  3:  Regular,  Junior,  Super ! 


More  women  choose  KOTEX* 
than  all  other  sanitary  napkins 


How  to  prepare  for  "certain"  days? 

n  Circle  your  calendar  Q  Perk  up  your  wardrobe 

I  I  Buy  a  new  belf 

Before  "that"  time,  be  ready!  All  3  answers  can  help. 
But  to  assure  extra  comfort,  buy  a  new  Kotex  sanitary 
belt.  Made  with  soft-stretch  elastic  — this  strong,  light- 
weight sanitary  belt's  non-twisting  .  .  .  non-curling.  Stays 
flat  even  after  many  washings.  Dries  pronto!  So  don't 
wait:  buy  a  new  Kotex  belt  now.  Buy  two— for  a  change! 


,1 


"We  thought  if  we  got  here  on  Wednesday, 
it  would  make  the  week  end  seem  longer!" 


Bv  BERNARDINE  KIELTY 


I'l  'S  ihf  minor  irritations,  not  the 
worlil  probloms,  thai  wear  us  out: 
the  woman  who  lallvs  on  and  on  over 
the  telephone;  the  couple  thai  set- 
tles down  after  the  party  for  a  good 
Ions  <'hal,  w  hen  you  j  ourself  are  ready 
lo  <li-op:  the  relative  who  oomes  for  a 
>isil  and  <locsn"t  say  how  Ions  she'll 
l>e  slayins.  .  .  .  WlIVT  I'O  DO  WHEN. 
I>y  ./eiiiiifer  Colton,  a  hook  of  infinite 
variety,  takes  up  all  these  situations 
an«l  many  others  that  call  for  delicate 
handling,  and  siisse'sts  the  tactful, 
sensible  solution.  If  you're  on  a  new 
Job;  in  a  new  town;  Iravelins:  worried 
about  bow  to  tip — you'll  do  well  to 
listen  to  Miss  Colton.  Who  she  is  we 
don" I  know.  Obviously  she  has  been 
around  and  she  has  sense.  Her  advice 
is  sound  and  intcllisenl,  and  her  book 
ideal  supplementary  reatlins-  To  the 
ciit-and-dricd  book  of  etiquette  it 
adds  the  subtleties  and  overtones  of 
real  people. 

Another  book  aimed  at  women— 
more  at  the  so-called  "smart"  woman 


than  at  her  country  sister— is  Beauty* 
IS  Not  an  Age.  by  Eleanor  Arnelt 
\ash.  If  you  have  a  friend  who  is  feel- 
ing her  years,  try  this  book  on  her.  She 
can't  read  it  without  doing  something  i 
for  herself,  if  it's  only  getting  a  new' 
girdle.  (You  ought  to  have  three  girdles,  ( 
according  to  Mrs.  Nash. )  The  make-up  > 
routine  will  come  as  a  surprise  to  many.  \ 
(First  you  put  rouge  paste  over  your 
whole  face !)  And  if  you  think  you  know 
how  to  rest  properly,  or  how  to  care  for 
your  hands,  or  the  right  kind  of  shoes 
to  wear,  you've  got  a  whole  set  of  revo- 
lutionary ideas  ahead  of  you. 

Of  course  it  takes  all  kinds.  .  .  .  The 
two  Italian  moi'ie  beaiities,  Silvana 
Mangano  and  Anna  Ma/snani,  both, 
wear  their  hair  straight  back,  and  use 
no  make-up  tchatsoever. 

A  Chinese  lady,  on  the  other  hand, 
goes  to  a  great  amount  of  trouble.  In  a 

(Continued  on  Page  18) 


ARGOSY  MAGAZINE 


^  "For  heaven's  sake,  give  him  his  tip  and  let  him  go!" 

m  m  m  m  m  %  %  ^      ^  ^  i   .  #  #  #  #  #  # 


II     ')     M     I  I     II     I       l(     \     \  I. 


^  Jbrln^  Ix^auty 

wherever  T 


/  //^//r  l/ir  iniiilfL'r  (if  hriiifiiii^  .\iini\  finr 
cosiiirlics  (I nil  luihinrs  ilirrt  lly  In  you  in  ytjur 
liiinir.  l/\  cDinjili'lr    imn  hi-auly  l.il  piTinils  nir  In 
siiinr  ynn  In  \nri(iiis/y  snotliin'^  iiiul  sojlrnnifs  m-firns 
and  liilioits  ihdt  help  your  shin  l.i-rp  a  yonllifnl 
Jrcshncss.  I  hrin/^  yon.  loo.  the  si'iison's  m-ur.sl 
shades  in  inahc-uj)  lo  occrni  your  indiridniil  loloriu^. 

Avon  crcdh-s  <i  n  idc  rniifsr  of  oilier  loilririi-s 
for  I  lie  nlioir  funilly  .  .  .  and  I  am  happy  lo  hrlp  you 
make  all  your  rosmellc  and  loilelry  seleclions  ' 
in  ihc  (ji/ici  oj  your  Hvin<s  room. 

I  will  roll  on  ymi  Ikki 


cosmetics 


RADIO  CITY.  NEW  YORK  •  MONTREAL..  CANADA 


Voui>  Savings  on  a  Hafdy/ick 
kelp  huy  anodief  modern  appliance 


EconoTrol  Top  Burners  mean 
2-in-l  action.  Start  with  the  hot, 
double  flame.  Then  click  to  tiny,  in- 
stant simmer-center — low  enough  to 
melt  chocolate  without  a  double 
boiler.  Ideal  for  waterless  cooking. 
Save  vitamins,  avoid  boil-overs,  save 
gas,  and  so  save  money.  Hardwick 
costs  less  to  buy,  too — your  savings 
will  help  buy  another  modern  appli- 
ance for  your  home. 


^^^^ 

r  Q 

 — 



-  ^ 

(1 

Balanced  Heaf  Oven.  Exactly 
the  heat  you  set — in  every  corner, 
maintained  automatically.  No  peek- 
ing, no  turning.  Four  cake  layers 
baked  at  one  time  are  so  identical, 
you  can't  tell  them  apart!  Throw 
away  your  matches.  EconoMatic  lights 
oven  automatically — from  a  tiny  pin- 
point pilot  about  Vs  usual  size. 


Char-Broil  with  Hardwick 
smokeless  broiler.  Only  hot,  live 
flame  chars  meat  to  perfection  on 
the  outside  while  cooking  the  in- 
side to  the  doneness  you  desire. 
No  need  to  keep  the  door  open, 
live  flame  consumes  smoke  and 
grease.  Whole  kitchen  is  cleaner!  »^ 


HARDWICK 

OAS  RANGES 

A.e.A.  APPROVED  for  NATURAL,  MANUFACTURED,  and  LP  GASES 


169  Famous  Recipes  from  tvery  comer  of  the  U.  S. 

A  gourmet's  tour  of  the  U.  S.  .  .  .  each  recipe  a  gastro- 
nomic specialty  of  a  certain  section.  For  your  copy  of  "America  Cooks,"  mail 
this  coupon  today  with  10  cents  in  stamps  or  coin  to  Hardwick  Stove  Company, 
Cleveland,  Tenn.,  Dept.  L -20.  Off er  good  one  year  from  date. 


Name- 


S>ree>_ 
Cl»y_ 


_$fa»e_ 


HARDWICK  STOVE  COMPANY  •  CLEVELAND,  TENNESSEE 


(Continued  from  Page  16) 
delicious  book,  A  Cm  ivese  Chi  ldhood, 
by  Chianf!  Yee,  we  see  what  trouble. 
First  she  washes  her  face  with  the  white 
of  egg  to  keep  the  flesh  tender.  Then  she 
applies  a  gelatinous  paste  which  she 
makes  by  boiling  down  four  big  fresh 
pig's  knuckles.  This  procedure  she  re- 
peats every  night  at  bedtime  for  two 
weeks.  And  the  results,  we're  told,  are 
fantastic.  At  the  end  of  a  fortnight  not 
a  wrinkle  is  left  on  her  face ! 

The  lady  whose  toilet  is  thus  described 
was  one  of  Chiang  Yee's  many  aunts. 
And  it  might  interest  you  to  know  that  in 
spite  of  her  Herculean  efforts,  the  lady 
could  not  hold  her  husband. 

Chiang  Yee  is  a  captivating  painter 
as  well  as  Mi-iler,  and  he  is  also  the 
"silent  traveller"  whose  hooks  you 
may     already     know:    THE  SILENT 

Traveller  iin  New  York  an«l  The 
SILENT  Traveller  in  KniNBUR<;H. 

All  his  hooks  are  illustrated  with  his 
own  say  paintings. 


//  our  Confucian  reckoning  is  correct, 
this  is  the  year  4651  and  it  will  get  off  to 
a  noisy  start  this  month  in  Chinatown, 
with  a  parade  of  writhing  dragons  and  the 

rat-tat-tat  of  firecracker  explosions  That 

is  one  of  the  nice  things  about  New  York, 
it  has  three  New  Year's  Days,  all  festive: 
the  regular  Christian  calendar  January 
first,  the  Chinese  in  February,  and  the 
Jewish  Rosh  Hashana  in  the  autumn. 


Dedicated  to  man's  dream  of  peace 
for  the  world,  the  National  Con- 
ference of  ('hrislians  and  .)ews  is  this 
year  ohserving  its  twenty-fifth  an- 
niversary, lirotherhood  Week  is  set 
for  Fehriiarv  1.5—22. 


Which  brings  us  straight  to  the 
Father  of  Our  Country.  "George  Wash- 
ington," says  Gerahl  Johnson  in  THE 
American  People,  'was  a  patient 
man.  He  had  a  terrible  temper.  But  he 
held  that  temper  in  check  and  proceeded 
coolly,  carefully,  patiently,  through  the 
bewildering  mazes  of  a  new  govern- 
ment." This,  says  Mr.  Johnson,  is  what 
we've  all  got  to  do.  ourselves  for  the 
next  few  years.  No  matter  what  we 
think  we  are,  we've  darn  well,  he  says, 
got  to  be  George  Washingtons,  if  the 


'Come,  dear,  voiir  father 
has  put  his  shirt  on  over 
his  siispen«lers,  again!'" 


civilization  of  the  western  world  is  to  be 
preserved. 

• 

I  nlike  John  Barry  more,  who  always 
insisted  that  his  contract  stipulate  no 
work  on  any  Friday-the-thirlccnth, 
we're  not  superstitious.  Hut  odd 
things  do  happen  on  Fridays-lhe- 
thirteenth.  Last  year  a  crosstown  hus 
in  New  York  went  out  of  control  on 
8th  Street,  jumped  the  ciirh,  howled 


over  a  fire  hydrant  and  crashed  in! 
the  window  of  a  real-estaleoffiee,  send 
ing  many  people  to  the  hospital.  Tha 
was  Friday,  June  13th,  and  the  bii 
w as  No.  l."?.  ...  It  was  also  on  a  Frida> 
May  l.Slh,  19i9,  that  the  big  hlowii 
in  the  Holland  Tunnel  occurred,  whe 
a  truck  loaded  with  24!4  tons  of  car 
bon  disulphide  exploded,  blew  out  th 
insides  of  the  tunnel,  reduced  a  dozei 
or  more  giant  trucks  to  a  mass  of  melt 
ing  wreckage,  and  raised  the  tempera 
ture  of  the  tunnel  to  something  ove 
4000  ....  This  year  there's  a  Friday 
the-thirteenlh  in  February,  Marcl 
and  November. 

• 

But  enough  of  gossip,  and  to  books 

Once  we  mentioned  a  book  on  churcl 
matters.  Building  Up  Your  Con 
gre(;ation,  by  WUlard  A.  Pleuthnei 
Apparently  it  brought  the  author 
good  many  inquiries.  Now  he  has 
second.  More  Power  for  Youi 
Church,  written  with  a  view  to  in 
creasing  church  attendance,  enlargin; 
financial  support,  widening  the  spiritua 


REPRODUCED  FROM  THE  NEW  YORKER 
BY  PERMISSION 

COPYRIGHT,  1951,  THE  NEW  YORKER  MAGAZINE.  INC. 


"There's  one  conso- 
lation. The  golf  links 
won't  get  them,  either.' 


life  of  church  members.  Mr.  Pleuthner 
is  vice-president  of  Batten,  Barton, 
Durstine  &  Osborn.  He  gives  the  roy- 
alties from  both  books  to  interfaith 
charities. 

Far  From  the  Customary  Skies, 
by  tf  arren  Eysier.  is  a  Navy  war 
story  which  will  be  of  great  interest  to 
those  men  who  rode  the  destroyers  into 
battle  in  the  Pacific,  who  weathered  a 
terrific  tropical  storm,  and  who  knew 
the  evils  and  the  good  in  a  shipload  of 
seagoing  comrades. 

The  Twenties,  by  John  Hutchens, 

is  an  excellent  anthology  of  the  Amer- 
ican writing  of  that  short  but  decisive 
period— the  best  period  for  the  Amer- 
ican writer,  Hutchens  claims,  since  New 
England's  Golden  Day,  and  far  ahead 
of  the  dreary  thirties,  with  their  Pro- 
letarian novels,  that  followed.  The 
generation  may  have  been  "lost,"  says 
he,  but  it  thoroughly  enjoyed  the 
drama  of  thinking  so. 

Today's  Lost  Generation  appears— 
with  distinction— in  The  Second  Hap- 
piest Day,  by  John  Phillip.-i.  Time 
weaves  an  intricate  pattern  in  this 
novel,  but  chronologically  speaking,  its 
action  starts  when  two  boys  are  thrown 
together  in  a  high-powered  boys'  school, 
(Continued  on  Page  21) 


A    I)    I    K  s 


"  <>  M  !■:     J  o  I    II  N  \  I. 


Injoy  yourseir-it\  earlier  lhan  you  think,  if  you  keep  Minute  Rice 
in  Ihc  panli  y.  W.il,  this  sv..ndcrful  rice,  you  can  lix  a  ^huwnlnr  of  a 
meal  111  iiiiiiiiit  \' 

Minulc  Rice  is  pre-cooknl  \o  eliminate  work  and  guesswork,  Jutt 
hring  it  to  a  boil,  turn  ofl'  the  heat.  In  1 3  miiuiics  you  have  rice  thai'* 
uiif  to  be  perfect,  snowy  ami  llully  every  time. 

Serve  Minute  Rice  alone  . . .  star  it  in  hundreds  of  delicious  dishes. 
Your  cooking's  sure  to  make  a  hit  with  Minute  Rice! 


Ooos! 


'"wjvs'  r-  .  on  a 


drainini;'-  t^" 
pj-e-cookeJ . 


Jusf  \B  mlntrfes  wifti  M»nufe  Rice! 

CHEESE  RICE  DAZZLE 

Brilliant  way  to  turn  a  scrap  of  cheese  into  a  family  treat — fast 
as  1-2-3!  Prepare  I'.i  cups  Minute  Rice  as  directed  on  package. 
Let  stand  10  minutes;  add  '2  cup  grated  American  cheese,  mix- 
ing lightly.  Meanwhile,  frv  2  slices  bacon,  crumble,  set  aside.  Cook 
3  tablespoons  chopped  onion  and  I  clove  garlic  in  drippings  until 
tender.  Add  2  cans  tomato  sauce,  pinch  of  basil.  Simmer  5  minutes. 
Remove  garlic.  Arrangecheesericeon  serving  plate;  topvv  ith  sauce, 
sprinkle  with  bacon  and  more  grated  cheese — and  dazzle  4!  Only 
MinLite  Rice  could  absorb  the  tangy  cheese  taste — dish  up  such  a 
scrimiptious  meal  in  just  18  minutes! 


Another  quickie!  Pineapple  Rice  Molds — delicious  with  ham, 
roast  pork,  chicken,  or  fluflfy  omelet.  Prepare  1';?  cups  Minute 
Rice  as  directed  on  package.  Add  'j  cup  drained  canned  crushed 
pineapple.  Press  into  4  well-greased  indiv  idual  molds  (or  use  cus- 
tard cups  or  coffee  cups).  Turn  out  on  plate. 


ft>r  |>erfe4-  rice 
he  qufdc  and  ea^y  way 


Minute 


Product  of  Generol  Foods 


20 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  J  95 


a4ioC  s^u/^el^ cjinkt  cid/i^  UcJl  a. 


Feel  it  on  your  fingertips  ! 
Rub  it  into  the  palms  of  your  hands! 
You  can  feel  that  Shasta  Shampoo 
is  right  for  your  hair! 


From  the  second  you  open  the  jar,  you  can  jee\  that  creamy-soft 
Shasta  is  going  to  do  wonderful  things  for  your  hair. 

Rich  but  not  oily,  creamy  but  not  sticky,  Shasta  is  the  very  softest 
of  the  cream  shampoos  .  .  .  gives  you  billows  of  rich,  lasting  lather 
that  cleanses  your  hair  like  no  ordinary  soap  shampoo  can  do. 

No  other  shampoo  is  so  femininely  right  for  your  hair. 
So  when  it's  important  for  you  to  look  and  feel  your  best, 
be  Shasta-sure  your  hair  is  soft,  sweet,  feminine! 

P.  S.  Just  a  little  Shasta  gives  jou  a  lot  of  lather.  Don't  waste  it! 


the  lotion  with  the 


You'll  see  (and  so  will  he)  iiow 
soft  and  inviting  your  hands  axn 
be.  For  the  master  blenders  of 
Chamberlain's  have  created  a 
clear,  golden  lotion  that  soothes 
and  caresses  your  hands,  and  then 
disappears  like  magic ...  leaving 
only  its  exciting  i'eh't'i  touch. 
Chamberlain's  is  the  fastest-sell- 
ing clear  lotion  in  America.  Why 
not  try  it... and  discover  whi/? 

clear  lotion 


I.  \  I)  I  1   .      II  I 

((mil  in  Hill  from  I'uitr  IS) 
liri  war  without  a  doubt  the  rnonl  ri- 
vcalinu  picture  of  suih  a  school  cvi-r  to 
Kcl  in  print.  They  ^o  m  to  Harvard 
when-  tht  ir  hfc.  amoHK  liif  favored  few, 
with  counter  harnionies  of  sex  and  war, 
begins  to  sliow  tlie  first  si^ns  of  decay. 
And  the  sophisticated  frustrated  party- 
k'oink'  existence  that  they  fall  into  once 
the  war  is  over  they  and  their  nirls 
is  heartbreaking  in  sjiile  u\  its  su|K-rli- 
cial  li.iid  iirilli.iiice.  Snoblx'ry  is  the 
ninlil,  ,111(1  snobbery  is  one  of  the 
cardinal  sins,  but  it  does  (Iran  in  its  wake 
the  most   intense  eiiiolions,  ;ind  for 


M  I 


I     1 1  I 


21 


story  purposes  builds  up  to  "strong" 
drama.  This  is  a  remarkable  first  novel, 
tense,  exciting,  "of  the  day."  Compari- 
son with  F.  Scott  FitzKcrald's  Tins  Sidk 
OF  Paradisk  is  inevitable;'l"iii-;SK<:oM» 
llAi'iMKSi'  Day,  in  this  reviewer's  opin- 
ion, coming  out  way  ahead. 

In  addition  there's  A  IIistoky  of 
VALENTirsKS,  by  Ruth  U i'hh  Ia-v  (or 

collectors. ...  A  good  mystery,  Kosk's 
Last  SuMMKK,  by  Mnrftarol  Millar 
(an  excellent  writer).  .  .  .  And  two  stun- 
ning calendars,  Oni;  Amkkica  (its  pic- 
tures look  like  Cinerama)  and  .Vmkk- 
i<;ana  Calkmi»au.  Antique  Auto  edi- 
tion, by  Evelyn  Curro.         TIIK  KIND 


You  Can  Buy  the  Best! 

"As  the  sun  colors  floivers,  so  does  art 
color  life."  Sir  John  Lubbock  said  in  a 
poem.  Here  are  such  works  of  art— to 
illumine  your  home. 

Sixteen  of  the  French  master's 
greatest  paintings  have  been  repro- 
duced full  color  in  an  extra-large 
portfolio,  each  on  heavy  stock,  ready 
for  framing.  $2.95.  At  many  book- 
stores, or  write  Harry  N.  Abrams, 
Inc.,  421  Hudson  Street,  New  York 
14,  N.Y. 

Ynnitv  Fair 

Thackeray's  exciting  story  of  Becky 
Sharp  is  one  of  the  great  books  in  the 
Modern  Library's  new  paper-backed 
series  for  65  cents.  Many  bookstores 
carry  these  special  editions.  If  yours 
does  not,  write  to  Random  House, 
457  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  22, 
N.Y. 

HHmsart 

Two  magnificent  L.  P.  recordings  of 
his  operatic  overtures,  including 
Cosi  Fan  Tutte,  Don  Giovanni,  The 
Magic  Flute,  The  Marriage  of 
Figaro,  have  been  made  by  the  Ber- 
lin Philharmonic  for  Decca.  At  all 
record  stores.  $2.50  each. 


^9 


Magic  'J hue/ I  whisprrs  'Natural  Beauty 


Your  Magic  Touch  Cream  Make-up  is  so  suJuJi^  >^  uiioblrusivc 
that  your  new,  wondrously  beautiful  complexion  look.s  like 
your  very  own.  Makes  you  appear  a  person  with  lovely,  natural 
coloring  and  smooth,  flawless,  fine-texlured  skin.  Hides  every 
little  imperfection — with  never  a  hint  of  that  "made  up"  look. 

So  easy  to  put  on  — 
||  Such  magic  blending  ! 

Rub  your  fingertips  lightly  over  creamy  Magic  Touch. 
Then  «ith  gentle  strokes,  smooth  it  on  face  and  throat, 
beginning  with  forehead.  Replenish  the  cream  on  finger- 
tips as  needed.  No  clumsy  sponge  or  puff,  no  liquid  to  drip 
or  bottle  to  leak,  no  powder  to  spill. 


r 


3. 


^    So  soft  on  your  .skin  — 

So  pleasant  to  use  ! 

Hlends  like  magic,  without  streaking.  (Smoothing  with 
fingertips  gives  perfect  color-depth  control — longer  smoothing 
lessens  color.)  Your  skin  will  feel  so  velvety  soft — look  so 
natiirallv  vouthful,  fresh  and  clear.  Magic  .Touch  is  neic. 
(Don  t  confuse  with  anv  other  cream  or  stick-type  make-up.) 


Flawless  beauty — 

Natural-looking  loveliness  ! 


Look  in  your  mirror!  Your  complexion  is  flawless,  allur- 
ing. For  a  dew  v.  fresh  look,  use  Magic  Touch  u  ithoiit 
powder.    Powder  over  lightly  for  a  long-lasting,  smooth 
mal-Jinish.  (MagicTouch  is  never  oily  or 
"^•i^        greasy  looking — even  w  ithout  pow  der.) 




43e  and  $1 


CAM  PAS  A 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  195.1 


Serve  delicious 
Coca-Cola 
with  meals 

So  many  people 
prefer  an  ice-cold  beverage 
with  good  things  to  eat. 
Served  in  a  frosty  bottle, 
Coke  lends  a  flavor  all  its  own 
to  the  pleasures  of  the  table. 
Here's  refreshment  pure  as  sunlight, 
with  a  quality  you  trust 
. . .  the  most  asked -for 
soft  drink  in  the  world. 


^  >  ^  >  ^  >       -f 4- -f- ^ > ^  4- ^  ^  >  ^  ^  4- 


rriclion  over  money  matters  costs  too  dearly. 

Plan  your  financial  program  together  and  save  on  l(,\e  and  ^en  inly. 


|{>  (.1.11  lOlU)  H.  \i)\MS 


Ihin'l  L»'l  Ar<;iiiiiciits  Altoiil  Moiu-v 
Spoil  ^ Oiir  Marri;!*;*- 

TIIK  [inililciTi  of  sirctcliing  a  fixed  income 
(ivcr  steadily  risirif^  costs  is  all  too  familiar 
tlicse  days.  Kven  llioiigli  income  {;oes  up, 
many  young  couples  fnid  lluit  outgo  has  gone  up 
even  faster,  and  that  tliey  are  no  better  off  al  ler 
a  raise  than  before.  To  rely  on  raises  to  cover 
mounting  expenses  is  to  invite  financial  disaster; 
the  only  realistic  approach  is  to  reverse  the  pro- 
cedure, so  controlling  expenses  that  they  are 
safely  within  current  (not  anticipated)  income. 

Many  young  couples  begin  marriage  handi- 
i'ap[)ed  by  educational  or  other  debts,  or  s[)eeial 
responsibilities  such  as  dependent  relatives. 
Whatever  the  reason,  once  a  family  "gets  be- 
hind" financially,  the  process  is  likely  to  acceler- 
ate; any  unexpected  expense  means  leaving  bills 
unpaid,  postponing  installment  payments,  incur- 
ring debts.  The  economic  consequences  are  bad 
enough;  their  emotional  impact  may  be  worse. 

One  of  the  commonest  subjects  of  family 
(juarrels  is  disagreements  about  money.  Under 
pressure  of  financial  worries,  friction  is  frequent, 
tension  constant  and  serenity  impaired.  Most 
couples  could  relieve  financial  pressure  by  better 
handling  of  their  income,  whatever  its  amount. 


Are  You  Neighborly  ? 

Neighborliness  is  one  of  the  marks  of  the  good 
homemaker.  These  questions  may  give  you  a 
better  appreciation  of  some  of  the  characteristics 
of  a  good  neighbor. 

^  hen  a  new  family-  moves  into  your 
neighborhood,  do  you: 

1.  Call  upon  them  within  a  few  days? 

2.  Ask  them  to  drop  in  on  you? 

3.  Introduce  your  friends  to  them? 

4.  Describe  community  churches,  stores 

and  services? 

In  dealing  with  families  living  within  a 
two-block  radius,  do  yoit: 

5.  Always  speak  when  you  meet? 

6.  Know  at  least  half  of  them  by  name? 

7.  Average  telephoning  one  family  daily? 

8.  Share  food  or  favors  with  three  or 

more? 

9.  Treat  their  children  as  friends? 

10.  Avoid  criticizing  one  neighbor  to  an- 

other? • 

11.  Send  flowers,  or  call  on  a  sick  neigh- 

bor? 

12.  Help  out  in  a  family  crisis? 

13.  Try  hard  not  to  "outdo  the  Joneses"? 

14.  Reserve  judgment  when  you  hear  un- 

savory gossip? 

Examine  your  "yes"  answers  not  only  as  to 
number  but  also  as  to  frequency  and  the  gener- 
osity with  which  you  practice  the  good-neighbor 
policy.  All  in  all,  are  you  a  good  neighbor?  Would 
those  families  living  next  to  you  feel  the  same 
way?  If  not,  you  may  be  missing  much  of  the 
joy  that  comes  from  being  friendly  and  unselfish. 


No  single  pattern  of  financial  inaniigenient  will 
fit  all  situations,  for  no  two  ( (in|)lrs  have  exactly 
the  same  problems.  Kven  thoiigh  income  is  llii- 
same  and  circumstances  similar,  dillerences  in 
the  personal  |)ref(!rences  and  needs  of  the  indi- 
viduals involved  must  be  taken  into  aceouni 
along  with  material  factors.  Hut  every  sound 
financial  program  makes  two  major  provisions: 

IFise  saving.  The  first  step  is  to  "get  ahead"  of 
expen.ses,  so  that  at  the  end  of  each  pay  period 
you  have  money  left  instead  of  bills.  If  tins  in- 
volves drastic  reduction  of  your  living  standards, 
the  need  is  all  the  more  urgent  — for  obviously 
you're  living  beyond  your  nieans. 

When  this  balance  has  been  achieved,  start 
i)uilding,  not  one  but  two  saving  funds.  The  first 
will  be  a  current  cash  reserve  to  enable  you 
to  take  advantage  of  good  buys,  to  finance 
major  household  purchases,  and  the  like.  The 
seccmd  will  be  your  permanent  savings  for  the 
lutu re. 

Wise  spending.  The  purpose  of  a  budget  is  not 
only  to  insure  saving,  but  also  to  improve  effi- 
ciency in  spending.  For  a  far  higher  proportion 
of  income  must  be  spent  than  saved,  and  unwise 
spending  is  likely  to  make  saving  impossible. 

For  example,  impulsive  buying  is  to  be 
avoided,  because  it  disrupts  the  budget,  and  be- 
c;ause  the  bargain  dress  you  couldn't  resist  too 
often  doesn't  fit.  Installment  buying  involves  a 
carrying  charge,  and  is  a  form  of  living  on  next 
month's  income.  (Your  cash  reserve  will  enable 
you  to  pay  for  things  in  cash.) 

Whatever  the  details  of  your  problem,  neither 
family  spending  nor  saving  can  be  satisfactory 
unless  both  you  and  your  husband  know  the 
facts,  agree  on  a  program,  and  co-operate  in 
carrying  it  out.  Facing  financial  problems  to- 
gether will  improve  your  relationship  at  the  same 
time  that  it  will  help  solve  the  problems. 

Lcafu  About  Him  When  You're; 
Kiipaged,  Not  Afler  Marriage 

I^Y  the  time  a  couple  become  engaged,  many 
factors  have  already  contributed  to  their 
(}ualifications  for  marriage.  These  qualifications 
include  such  tangible  considerations  as  the  girl's 
ability  to  cook  and  run  a  house,  the  man's 
capacity  to  earn  a  living.  And  psychological  prep- 
aration for  marriage  includes  factors  which  are 
less  direct  but  nevertheless  powerful;  one  of  the 
most  profound  influences  is  the  individual's 
recollection  of  the  example  of  marriage  set  by 
his  own  parents. 

The  general  preparation  and  qualifications  of 
this  man  and  this  girl  may  be  adequate,  even 
ideal.  During  early  acquaintance  and  courtship, 
each  has  learned  something  of  the  other's  circum- 
stances and  background,  character  and  person- 
ality— enough  to  convince  them  that  they  are 
well  suited,  and  in  love. 

But  until  they  become  engaged,  they  have  had 
little  occasion  to  plan  the  future,  to  compare 
values  and  goals,  to  identify  wth  each  other.  Too 


often,  in  the  excili-riii-nl  of  pn-parulion  for  the 
wedding,  the  couple  neglect  their  viMlly  more 
important  opportunity  to  prepare  for  the  mar- 
riag<-. 

The  engaged  coiipli-  tutn  make  a  ntart  toward 
the  enduring  and  rewardifig  relalionHhip  they 
seek  if  they  will  follow  llieHe  NUggeHlioiih : 

lix/ilore  your  raparitii^  for  companionstiip  by 
•  levoting  many  of  your  dati-s  togetling acquainted 
with  each  other's  frii;nds.  Try  out  each  otiier'n 
htdibies  and  diversions.  .S[x-nd  frerjuenl  evenings 
of  <|uiet  conversation.  Movi(;s,  dancing  and  simi- 
lar pastimes  are  pleasant  recreation,  but  they  add 
little  to  your  knowledge  of  each  other,  nor  will 
th(ry  play  an  important  part  in  your  future  life. 

Visit  each  other's  parents,  and  sfjcnd  arrfple  time 
in  both  homes.  A  few  calls,  a  dinner  or  two  at 
which  you  (or  he)  are  company,  are  inadequate. 
I'articipate  in  family  discussions  on  a  variety  of 
topics— politics,  religion,  social  events,  f>erhon- 
alities.  In  this  setting,  you  will  get  a  new  per- 
spective on  your  future  mate's  attitudes  and 
{)hilosopliy  of  life.  Your  in-laws  have  l>een  a  vital 
influence  in  his  character  and  personality  devel- 
opment; you  will  know  him  far  more  intimately 
if  you  also  know  them. 

Analyze  each  other  s  role  in  marriage.  Indi- 
viduals differ  in  their  conceptions  of  the  proper 
role  of  a  wife  or  a  husband.  Formulate  your  ideas 
of  a  husband's  part,  consider  how  well  your  fu- 
ture mate  fits  the  part,  and  discuss  the  matter 
with  him.  Similarly,  encourage  him  to  explain 
what  he  expects  from  you.  For  your  ideas  and 
his  may  be  equally  sound,  and  still  be  quite  dif- 
ferent. It  is  as  important  that  your  ideas  be  some- 
what similar  as  that  they  be  justifiable. 

Compare  standards  and  values.  Perhaps  you 
dance  well  together,  laugh  at  the  same  jokes,  and 
approve  each  other's  taste  in  clothes.  Compati- 
bility in  such  matters  is  pleasant,  and  can  en- 
hance the  quality  of  your  companionship.  But 
far  more  crucial  is  your  ability  to  evolve  a  phi- 
losophy of  life  acceptable  to  both.  How  well  do 
you  agree  on  religion,  on  standards  of  ethics  and 
morality,  on  ambitions  worth  working  for  and 
goals  worth  achieving?  Do  you  really  want  to  live 
the  same  kind  of  life? 

If  there  are  serious  disagreements  or  areas  of 
conflict,  this  is  the  time  to  resolve  them.  If  no 
acceptable  solution  can  be  found,  it  is  better  to 
discover  it  now  than  after  the  wedding.  Distress- 
ing as  a  broken  engagement  can  be,  a  broken 
marriage  is  always  more  so. 

Engagement  is  generally  regarded  as  a  period 
of  great  happiness.  It  can — and  should — be  a 
period  of  preparation  for  even  greater  happiness. 

Do  You  Agree  ? 

My  tliiorced  wife  has  our  ttvo  young 
tiaughler.s.  Her  present  husband  ivant.s  to 
adopt  them.  Would  adoption  give  them 
more  security? 

Possibly,  especially  if  her  present  husband  is 
acceptable  to  you  as  both  a  man  and  a  father. 


^>  4.  4.  >.^4- ^  4- ^>  ^-4^.4->  4^4^>  >  >  4^-4- >-4- 


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4 
4 
4 
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4 

4 

4 

4 
4 

4 

4 

4 
4 

4 
4 
4 
4 

4 
4 
4 

♦ 

4 

4 

4 

4 

4 
4 

4 
4 

4 

4- 

4 

4 
4 
4 
4 

4 

4 
4 
4 

4 

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4 
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44^4 


HATS  ETC.  MR.  JOHN  INC. 


WEATHERVANE  -best  loved  suit  in  America— 

fits  you  and  your  life 


More  women  have  come  back  for  another 
Weathervane  than  for  any  other  suit.  They 
can  feel  the  good  fit,  enjoy  the  expensive 
tailornig.  And  it  gives  them  the  assurance 
of  being  dressed  in  great  GOOD  t.\STp: 
at  an  astonishingly  low  •25  and*30! 


Tucked  waist  line  f/iaf  makes 
tite  most  eij  every  jigiire,  $25. 

<—  Beaiififnlly  lomided  jaeket, 
a  gentle  i  vU  oj  e(dla);  ^30. 

Beloic,  back-belted  suit 
in  inibby  Riijf-Tex,  $30. 


Weatliervane's  stay-crisp  Celanese 
acetate  fabric  comes  in  17  exciting, 
new  colors.  Misses',  junior  or 
Proportioned  Plus  sizes,  one  of 
which  is  sure  to  be  your  size. 


There's  only  one  Weathervane  and  it's  H  tailored  by 


JYew:  Weathervane  halter-top 
makes  a  costume  of  your  suit,  $8.95. 


At  one  fine  store  in  your  city, 
or  write  Haiidiitaelier-Vogcl  Inc.,  Dept.  L2, 

533  Seventh  Avenue,  Neiv  York  18. 


Wililcr  ill IciiKion 
lias  a  special  cliaitii. 


By  GLADYS  TABER 


HHE  cold  land  has  iis  own  beauty  now. 
L  Trees  etched  against  a  pale  thin  sky, 
ery  twig  a  small  poem  of  its  own,  the 
irk  brave  trunks  a  promise  of  spring  com- 
g  again  in  her  time.  George's  cows  keep 
eir  barn  warm  with  steamy  breath  and 
althy  body  heat,  the  wild  things  of  woods 
,d  fields  are  burrow-deep.  The  sky  is  a 
wter  pkitter  most  of  the  time,  but  on  an 
.d  day  the  sun  comes  through  calm  and 
3wmg  and  then  the  air  is  warm,  the  biting 
eath  in  the  lungs  eases,  and  suddenly  I 
id  myself  singing.  I  go  to  the  barn  for 
ndling  for  the  fire  singing  very  loud  and 
'ely,  "Do  not  forsake  me,  oh  my  dar- 

ig  "  and  lug  the  crisp  wood  in,  and 

member  when  my  daughter  Cicely  was  a 
imp  Fire  Girl  and  the  ceremony  of  the  fire 
;nt  on  and  the  lanky  child  who  cried 
arscly,  "I  bring  my  fragots  to  the  fire." 
bring  my  fragots  to  the  fire,  and  smile 
th  tlie  memory. 

TJie  house  needs  cleaning  perpetually 
ese  days.  All  the  snowy  paws  and  the 
bbets  of  mud  if  it  does  melt— and  my 
anking-clean  bedspread  has  a  pattern  of 
rk  all  over  it  and  must  be  washed  again, 
d  hung  in  the  upstairs  hall  to  dry.  But 
E  happy  paws  are  worth  it ! 
February  is  a  yeasty  month,  winter  is 
re,  but  the  idea  that  spring  is  coming  is 
th  us.  Garden  plans  come  out,  Jill  draws 
tie  maps  of  all  the  things  she  will  not 
mt.  Comes  May,  the  same  vegetables  go 
the  same  garden. 

But  the  yeast  works,  and  I  consider  do- 
l  over  a  bedroom.  Wallpaper  is  a  love- 
ne  thing,  and  very  chancy.  The  small 
xe  you  look  at  never  remotely  resembles 
i  whole  thing  on  any  wall.  Paint  is  the 
ne  way.  We  had  to  re-lay  the  back- 
chen  floor  and  we  chose  tangerine  lino- 
im,  it  looked  so  puppyproof.  The  book 
,d  chartreuse  was  nice  with  it,  but  we  had 
chartreuse,  just  odds  and  ends  of  paint, 
ley  got  mixed  up  and  put  on. 


I  love  to  see  a  house  beautiful  and  well 
decorated,  but  when  we  consider  Still- 
meadow,  there  are  always  difficulties.  My 
room  must  have  the  sofa  that  there  is  no 
space  for,  on  account  of  the  fact  that  sev- 
eral cockers  like  to  sleep  there.  The  small 
antique  black  rocker  stays  in  the  impos- 
sible position  because  when  the  children 
are  at  home,  one  of  them  pops  in  for  coffee 
in  the  morning— they  are  too  old  to  sit  on 
the  floor  now.  What  should  be  a  small  bed- 
side table  is  big  as  a  house  because  I  need 
my  radio  for  late  night  hours,  I  need  the 
clock  so  I  can  hop  up  and  let  the  dogs  out, 
I  need  Honey's  picture,  and  I  need  the 
poems  of  Edna  St.  Vincent  Millay,  Keats 
and  four  of  the  books  I  am  reading.  Beside 
these,  a  pad  with  notes  on  what  to  have 
for  dinner  when  the  children  come  for  the 
week  end.  It  complicates  the  decor  of  the 
house. 

By  the  window,  I  have  to  have  a  clear 
space  so  I  can  watch  the  pileated  wood- 
pecker and  his  girl,  so  this  means  some 
things  are  stacked  on  the  floor.  My  rug 
does  not  fit  either  the  wallpaper  or  the 
sofa  cover,  but  it  is  wonderful  for  house- 
breaking puppies  as  it  is  an  all-pattern 
Oriental  papa  gave  me  years  ago.  There  are 
so  many  flowers  and  vines  and  colors  in  it 
that  any  puppy  can  err  with  impunity  on 
it.  And  so  it  goes. 

I  suppose  a  house  is  always  the  reflection 
of  the  life  in  it.  I  sometimes  feel  a  pang  that 
ours  has  no  more  scooters  and  damp  bunny 
suits  and  dripping  boots  all  over  it,  but  it 
still  has  the  adventures  of  Peter  Rabbit 
and  the  old  grammars  and  the  fairy  tales 
in  the  bookcases,  and  if  we  talk  of  donating 
them  to  a  library,  the  children  put  an  end 
to  the  idea  at  once. 

When  we  go  to  the  village,  I  like  to  see 
the  older  houses  with  the  snug  banks  of  ever- 
green branches  around  t  hem .  The  houses  look 
as  if  they  had  put  on  muffs.  And  I  notice  that 
(Continued  on  Page  143) 


...relax  in  ('(uiddd 

So  iiiiiiiij  new  t/iiitijH  lit  m  l  uml  tin  .  .  .  .  ,,  ,  ■  •  , 
in  ihiH  friendly  land  t,f  VACATIOSS  IJ.M.nim  it 


THERE  S  ROOM  lor  your  full  .-iiare  of  liappy  suiiinier  fun  on  uncrowded  sfacoa«t  and  lakfshore 
sands.  'You'll  wander,  too,  in  green  '"camera  country"  ...  enjoy  Nature  at  her  mo-t  refresh- 
ing in  scenic  National  Parks  . .  .  cruise  wide  inland  waters  enjoying  gay  .shipboard  life.  Go 
sliop[)ing,  meet  new  friends  in  colourful  "foreign"  cities.  Plan  to  slay  as  long  a.s  you  can. 


RIDE  in  mountain  wonderlands.  Stay  at 
name  resorts.  Sample  lakeland  life  at 
smart  summer  colonies.  You'll  have  the 
lime  of  your  life  in  Canada  this  year. 


PLAY  a  frienilly  round  on  championship  fairway.s, 
or  drop  in  on  courses  along  the  way.  Motor  on 
uncrowded  highways.  See  your  travel  or  trans- 
portation agent  soon  —  send  the  coupon  now. 


Ot-1-16-53-01 

CANADIAN   GOVERNMENT   TRAVEL  BUREAU 

Department  of  Resources  and  Development,  Ottawa,  Canada 

Please  send  your  48-page,  full-colour  book  on 
vacation  attractions  in  all  parts  of  Canada. 

Na  m  e  

(i'LE\SE  print) 


4ddres5- 


My  story  is  that  I  eat  the  leftovers  in 
the  icebox  only  because  nobody  else 
will;  the  rest  of  the  family  contend 
they're  afraid  to  touch  'em  lest  I  suffer 
from  self-pity  at  my  midnight-snack 
raid.  (But  their  sympathy  doesn't  go  so 
far  as  leaving  me  ice  cream  or  fried 
chicken.) 

At  last  ue  agreed  on  something  at  our 
semimonthly  bridge  game:  that  at  least 
half  the  child  slavings  by  baffled  parents 
occur  when  the  sweet  little  cherub-brats 
tvont  stand  still  while  mother  brushes 
their  hair. 

"If  the  lavish  custodians  would  cool 
off  our  dow  ntow  n  buildings  a  few  de- 
grees," I  told  my  Dream  Girl,  "they 
could  afford  to  air-condition  "em  for 
summer  in  a  few  years.  And  they 
could  buy  each  girl  in  each  building  a 
cashmere  sweater." 

"And  maybe  a  mink  coat  for  a  few," 
she  added. 


Maybe  the  social  life  in  our  town  is  calming  down 
a  little.  .  .  .  My  bosom  friend  in  the  unremodeled 
wooden  castle  reports  they  dined  with  relatives  and 
were  entertained  afterward  with  a  tape  recording  of 
a  lecture  their  hosts  had  liked,  which  lasted  one 
hour  and  twentv  minutes. 


"Have  you  noticed"  inquires  Peter  Comfort,  res- 
cuing five  bottles  of  frozen  milk  from  his  driveway^ 
"that  a  father  who  stormed  if  his  daughter  stayed  out 
till  one  A.M.  doesn't  bat  an  eye  if  she's  out  till  dawn, 
after  she's  married?" 

On  our  youngest's  birthday  we  took  him  and  his 
chums  to  visit  a  television  station.  I  hear  the  man- 
ager is  now  adopting  a  policy  of  encouraging  such 
birthday  visits  by  children  born  on  the  extra  Febru- 
ary 29th  of  leap  year. 

I've  studied  carefully  the  photograph  of  Bess 
Truman  greeting  Mamie  Eisenhower  on  the  White 
House  front  porch,  and  I'd  swear  they  look  as  if 
they  belonged  to  the  same  canasta  club. 


There's  a  back-to-the-land  movement  in  our  town. 
After  their  square  block  was  captured  by  13  small 
children  and  62  assorted  dogs,  our  toivn's  most  bril- 
liant lawyer  bought  himself  a  6  lO-acre  farm  ( that's  a 
square  m  ile)  and  became  a  gentleman  dirt  farmer. 

Alas,  the  only  girl  in  our  block  whom  Junior 
ranked  above  Miss  America  has  fallen  from  grace, 
in  his  estimation:  she  got  a  poodle  haircut.  "Even 
bangs  wouldn't  have  been  so  bad,"  he  said,  and 
lowered  her  from  the  top  row  of  his  thumbtack 
gallery. 


By  HARLAIV  MILLER 


In  this  month  of  the  Railsplitter  and  the  Cherry 
Tree  Chopper,  what's  more  patriotic  than  to  take 
my  youngest  outdoors  to  split  some  kindling? 

hat  if  w  e  do  have  a  gas  furnace?  Civilization,  my 
pessimistic  friends  tell  me,  may  break  down  any 
minute! 

It  almost  knocked  my  hat  off  when  I  discovered  that 
a  couple  I'd  regarded  as  the  coldest  and  stuffiest  in 
town  are  so  sentimental  that  they  observe  their  wedding 
anniversary  monthly  and  even  celebrate  Christmas  the 
25th  of  each  month. 

• 

Maybe  I'm  too  easily  puzzled;  but  it  does  puzzle 
me  why,  with  some  doctors  earning  .$50,000  a  year, 
it's  still  necessary  to  force  young  interns  to  live  on 
$40  a  month  plus  board  and  room!  No  wonder  the 
luckier  ones  marry  nurses. 


As  an  amateur  photographer.  I've  decided  not  to 
be  so  crestfallen  when  I  come  up  with  a  double  ex- 
posure, but  to  claim  they're  intentional,  and  even  to 
brag  about  'em !  Like  the  one  on  which  I  managed  to 
capture  the  likenesses  of  a  man  and  wontan  who 
weren't  even  speaking. 


My  Dream  Girl  has  been  as  vexed  as  she  ever  gets 
because  our  youngest  seizes  all  the  California  grapes 
in  the  icebox  and  leaves  their  seeds  all  over  the 
house.  But  she's  solved  that  problem  as  she  does  all 
problems:  now  she  buys  only  seedless  grapes. 


This  year  I'm  keeping  my  vow  to  send  valentines  or 
floivcrs  to  all  the  siveethearts  of  my  boyhood.  Like 
Cyrano,  I'll  fling  'em  armfuls  of  loose  blooms.  Aren't 
they  as  sweet  and  innocent  as  they  were  in  the  seventh 
grade? 


Frankly,  the  matrons  in  our  town  are  peeved 
at  me  because  I  tell  'em  how  simply  and  su- 
perbly groomed  New  York's  gals  are;  and  what 
serene,  patrician  expressions  they  wear  on  their 
faces. 

"They  mostly  try  to  look,"  I  explain,  "like 
Hedy  Lamarr  swallowing  two  oysters  at  once." 


That  new  couple  in  the  next  block  have  painted 
theirfront  door  and  the  inside  of  their  garage  yellow. . . . 
Though  we've  never  met,  ive  greet  'em  warmly  every 
time  ice  pass  their  house,  and  feel  closer  to  'em  than  to 
some  people  we've  known  all  our  lives. 


Our  current  household  argument:  whether  to 
cover  the  dangerously  worn  spots  in  our  living- 
room  carpet  with  small  camouflage  rugs,  or  just 
wear  through  the  last  l/32nd  of  an  inch.  I  tell 
my  Lady  Love  we  can  afford  new  carpet  or  a  trip 
to  Europe  in  the  next  three  years,  but  not  both. 


One  of  the  teachers  at  our  children's  grade  school 
believes  in  memorizing  a  poem  a  week.  "Don't  you 
love  to  recite  To  a  Waterfowl  or  The  Chambered 
Nautilus?"  she  asks.  "It's  a  better  parlor  trick  than 
playing  the  violin  or  saxophone!" 


Lately  my  Dream  Girl's  favorite  tune  has  been  a 
song  without  ivords  called  Meet  Mr.  Callaghan, 
u  hile  mine  is  a  mushy  chune  tilled  I'm  Never  Satis- 
fied, sung  without  the  loss  of  a  syllable  by  Trudy 
Richards.  (But  I  never  play  mine  without  playing 
hers  first.) 

Shucks,  I  feel  just  as  silly  confiscating  my  young- 
est's comic  books  when  I  get  all  buzzed  up  against 
'em  as  I  hope  my  father  used  to  feel  when  he'd  burn 
my  dime  novels.  (But  dime  novels  at  least  led  to- 
ward reading,  while  comics  lead  away  from  books.) 


When  a  full  half  gallon  of  ice  cream  vanishes 
from  our  freezer  compartment  and  I  don't  even  get 
a  taste  .  .  . 

Or  my  Life's  Companion  treats  a  doctor  or 
preacher  with  greater  deference  than  she's  treated 
me  since  the  evening  I  proposed  .  .  . 

And  Junior  and  our  youngest  insist  I  ought  to 
help  'em  put  up  the  storm  windows  and  shovel  the 
driveway  .  .  . 

Or  our  daughter  makes  me  shell  out  handsomely 
to  get  a  fond  word  from  her  .  .  . 

Then  I  realize  that  married  life  offers  so  many 
pleasures  and  delights  that  a  man  learns  to  overlook 
such  trifles. 


NEW 
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The  Magic  Sole  literally  floats  your  foot  on  air.  Hundreds 
of  tiny  cells  create  an  airy  cushion  that  makes  sidewalks 
feel  carpeted,  that  pilloics  your  foot 
gently  at  every  step. 


With  the  Magic  Sole 
to  cushion  every  step 

Brilliantly  new!  So  exquisitely 
comfortable  you'll  call  them 
walking  \\ondersI  It's  Air  Step's 
exclusive,  new  combination  of  the 
Magic  Sole  with  full  sole  flexibility. 
Here  are  shoes  as  supple  as  your 
foot .  .  .  trim  fitting  as  your 
gloves.  In  all  the  fashion  colors 
and  a  complete  range  of  sizes. 
At  your  Air  Step  dealer.  Or  write 
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Shoe  Company,  St.  Louis. 


Shoes  illustrated 


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Higher  Denver  West 


THE  »IIB-DEB  oditpd  by  Rnth  Imlor 


"This  may  be  puppy  love,  but  I  miss 
him  when  he  is  away;  if  someone  speaks 
unkindly  of  him,  I  defend  him;  I  never 
think  of  another  boy  wheh  we're 
together.  But  all  I  feel  sure  of  is  that 
it's  wonderful  to  be  seventeen  and 
wonderful  to  be  'in  love.'"  .  .  .  Love 
is  "the  incentive  to  do  many  things 
for  someone  else"  .  .  .  "is  the  perfect 
harmony  of  two  people  in  good  and  bad 
times"  .  .  .  "is  an  urge  to  accomplish 
things  you  never  thought  of'trying 
be{ore^v>.  .  .  "is  the  fidelity  of  our 
parents"  .  .  .  "usually  leads  to  marriage"  .  .  . 
"is  finding  the  perfect  one.  His  haircut 
couldn't  be  more  perfect;  there  are 
no  other  ties  like  the  ones  he  wears; 
I  just  plain  don't  have  any  complaints. 
I  enjoy  his  company  whether  we're 
working  on  an  algebra  problem  or  dancing 
at  a  formal;  I  respect  him,  give  him  all 
my  devotion;  base  my  pfans  around 
him."  .  .  .  "Naturally,  'he'  leaves  me 
weak."  ...  "I  find  rhyself  dressing  in  his 
favorite  colors,  having  his  favorite 
cookies  in  the  hftuse,  using  the  dustcloth 
more  often."  ...  "I  feel  that  I  am  wanted 
wherever  I  am."  .  .  .  "I'm  tongue-tied 
one  minute  and  a  chatterbox  the  next."  .  .  . 
"I  like  to  think  the  kind  of  love  for 
which  the  Brownings  are  famous  still 
exists;  I  hope  there's  a 
Prince  Charming  for  every  girl." 

From  essays  by  high-school  students. 


1.  Is  what  he  wants  to  do  with  his  life  as 

important  to  you-as  it  is  to  him? 

2.  Do  you  try  to  be  a  "better"  person? 

3.  Do  you   agree   on   important  things: 

morals,  attitudes,  friends,  recreation? 

4.  Is  your  judgment  considered  sound? 

Your  sense  of  responsibility  strong? 
Yes  answers  to  these  questions  ...  is  only 
the  beginning.  Time  is  the  real  test — 
a  mutual  willingness  to  work  constantly 
toward  the  "we-feeling"  on  which  the 
six  couples  at  the  right  built  their  lives. 


The  words  to  "People  Will  Say  We're  in  Love,"  one  of 
the  hit  songs  from  Oklahoma!,  are  as  catchy  as  the 
tune.  Oscar  Hammerstein  II  writes  lyrics  you  don't 
forget:  "Why  Do  I  Love  You?",  "Only  Make  Believe," 
"Who,"  "All  the  Things  You  Are,"  "Hello,  Young 
Lovers."  But  of  all  the  songs  he's  written,  his  own 
favorite  is  one  already  such  a  classic  that  it's  hard  to 
associate  it  with  the  author  of  "Some  Enchanted 
Evening."  The  song?  "When  I  Grow  Too  Old  to 
Dream."  Eighteen  years  ago,  he  gave  it  to  his  wife, 
Dorothy,  for  her  birthday. 

"The  first  two  lines  occurred  to  me  right  off  the  bat, 
and  I  loved  them,"  he  says.  "  'When  I  grow  too  old 
to  dream,  I'll  have  you  to  remember.  .  .  .  When  I  grow 
too  old  to  dream,  your  love  will  live  in  my  heart.'"  His 
song  will  live  always  in  many  hearts,  because  it  came 
from  one  that  finds  love  tender  and  gay. 

One  morning  a  young  wife 
tucked  something  into  her  hus- 
band's pocket  and  ran  out  of  the 
room.  It  was  some  poetry  she  d 
written  before^  they  were  mar- 
ried and  just  now,  a  year  later, 
dared  to  give  him.  "How  do  I 
love  thee?"  he  read.  "Let  me 
count  the  ways  ...  I  love  thee 
freely  .  .  .  purely  ...  I  love  thee 
with  the"  breath,  smiles,  tears  of 
all  my  life!"  Her  husband,  also  a 
poet,  thought  her  sonnets  the 
finest  since  Shakespeare's  and' 
knew  he  must  share  them.  Now 
lovers  everywhere  speak  to  eacli 
other  through  these  poems  by 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 

Visitors  would  often  find  the  wife  of  the  famous 
Auguste  Renoir,  the  French  artist,  in  the  studio  pa- 
tiently cleaning  her  husband's  paintbrushes.  "He  says 
I  do  a  better  job  than  the  maid,"  she  explained.  And 
because  Renoir  was  constantly  calling  the  cook  and 
tlie  maid  to  pose  for  him,  Madame  Renoir  did  much  of 
the  housework  too.  "His  sole  (jualification  for  a  cook," 
she  would  sigh,  "is  that  her  skin  'take  the  light.  " 

And  so  although  his  name  is  the  only  one  which 
appears  on  a  canvas,  Madame  Renoir's  practical  and 
indirect  contributions  to  his  painting  are  there  too. 
Unconsciously,  perhaps,  Renoir  paid  tribute  to  his 
wife's  devotion.  Critics  observe  that  virtually  every 
Renoir  portrait  of  a  woman — since  the  day  he 
married  Alice  Changiat  in  1881 — has  a  hint  of  the 
pointed  smile  and  wide-set  kitten  eyes  of  his  wife — 
no  matter  which  cook  did  a  double  dutv  as  a  model! 


You  probably  know  a  young  couple  like  Norma  and 
Bill.  He's  going  to  med  school  on  the  GI  Bill.  She 
works  as  a  secretary,  types  his  class  notes,  intercepts 
phone  calls  when  lie's  studying,  and  dodges  all  invita- 
tions  during  "exam  week." 
Jf^fl  A  Saturday-night  party  with 

W  '  1*.^^  riiil's  friends  and  their 

•*       '  ■  wives  is  the  high  point  of 

w  "  their  week.   "Our  biggest 

problem  at  a  party,"  Norma 
says,  "is  to  keep  the  men 
from  talking  symptoms — 


sually 


ours  or 


the 


I\4>riiiu  aiKl  Bill  .Jenson 


Playing  charades  sometimes 
works."  After  the  M.D., 
they'll  work  on  for  a  home 
and  family. 


Elizabeth  Il{irr«-M  hikI 
Robert  Itrowniii:; 


"It  would  be  a  fine  thing,"  Pierre  wrote  his  sweetheart, 
Marie  (in  the  somewhat  stilted  style  of  the  year  1894), 
"to  pass  our  lives  near  each  other,  liypnotized  by 
our  dreams." 

And  so,  hypnotized  by  their  dreams  of  scientific 
research,  the  marriage  of  Pierre  and  Marie  was  a  fine 
thing.  Pierre,  the  more  established  scientist,  enthusi- 
astically abandoned  his  own  re^arch  to  help  Marie 
when  she  detected  the  presence  of  a  new  element  in 
pitchblende. 

Working  together  in  faith  and  poverty,  they 
processed  tons  of  pitchblende  in  search  of  the  new 
element  with  the  astonishing  radioactivity — keeping 
a  record  of  the  progress  in  the  same  notebook,  re- 
ferring to  individual  work  only  as  that  of  "one  of  us." 
Four  years  later,  their  dream  became  a  reality, 
RADIUM.  And  the  modest  couple,  awarded  a  Nobel  prize 
for  their  discovery,  became  the  world-famous  Curies. 

Four  months  ago.  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  George  F.  Barry 
celebrated  their  fiftieth 
wedding  anniversary. 
The  Barrys  do  not  be- 
lieve that  marriage  is 
50-50.  Rather  they  feel 
^^^^^^  each  partner  should  go 

k.  .  —  P^^I^^P|l*  ^  much  farther  than  half- 
I  '.^^^^^^^^^^1  ^^'^y-  Li.ving  their  reli- 

gion and  applying  the 
Golden  Rule  are  the  key- 
stone to  their  happiness,  they  believe.  "Don't  hold 
post-mortems  or  be  a  gravedigger.  Do  the  best  you  can, 
then  forget  it,"  is  Mrs.  Barry's  advice  on  marriage.  To 
that  Dr.  Barry  adds,  "It  helps  to  marry  a  girl  with  a 
funnvbone  because  she  has  to  be  able  to  laugh  a  lot." 


f 


^^^^^^ 


L   A   D    1    E  S 


II    O    M  F, 


JOURNAL 


IT  WAS  too  bad  that  Mary  and  Paul  Westley 
never  had  any  children  of  their  own,  because 
there  was  nothing  in  the  world  they  wanted  more. 
They  lived  in  a  fair-sized  house  down  on  Maple 
Street,  and  Paul  kept  moving  up  to  better  and 
better  jobs  with  his  company.  They  knew  a  great 
many  people  in  town  and  went  out  a  lot,  but  they 
began  to  suspect  that  it  was  mostly  to  keep  from 
thinking  about  the  one  empty  spot  in  their  lives. 

They'd  been  married  about  nine  or  ten  years 
when  they  got  to  talking  seriously  about  adopt- 
ing a  child.  They'd  spoken  of  it  from  time  to  time 
before,  but  now  they  were  really  in  earnest.  So 
much  so  that  they  started  the  wheels  in  motion. 

It  was  not,  they  discovered,  a  simple  matter. 
You  don't  just  walk  into  a  place  and  say,  "We'd 
like  a  nice,  cuddly  boy  with  blue  eyes  and  light 
hair,  please,"  and  walk  out  with  him  bundled  in 
your  arms.  Mary  and  Paul  found  that  they  look 
into  your  background  and  your  way  of  living  very 
carefully.  You  have  to  haveth  3  best  of  references. 
Because  they  want  to  make  sure  the  child  will 
have  the  very  next  best  thing  to  parents  of  his 
own — and  a  home  in  which  he'll  be  happy. 

Paul  and  Mary  Westley  asked  several  people 
in  town  to  vouch  for  them.  They  wrote  nice  letters 
saying  that  Paul  and  Mary  were  fine  people, 
which  was  true  enough. 

But  Al  Barnett  went  a  step  farther,  as  the 
Westleys  discovered  later.  He  went  to  see  the 
adoption  representative  and  after  he  explained 
the  purpose  of  his  visit  he  said,  "I've  known  Paul 


February, 

Westley  for  something  over  fifteen  years,  both 
a  friend  and  as  his  New  York  Life  agent.  Anc 
know  that  Paul  is  not  merely  concerned  with  t 
business  of  day-to-day  living,  but  has  made  soi 
sound,  solid  plans  for  the  long-range  future  as  we 

"Paul  believes  in  life  insurance  and  has  loi 
since  set  up  a  program  with  my  company  th 
will  take  care  of  almost  any  eventuality.  You  c; 
be  sure  that  any  child  the  Westleys  adopt  will 
well  provided  for." 

Whether  or  not  that  conversation  was  a  decij 
ing  factor  that  clinched  the  matter,  no  one  kner 
At  any  rate,  in  the  course  of  time  Paul  and  Maj' 
became  known  as  Dad  and  Mom  to  a  little  toddlj 
who  soon  was  riding  his  tricycle  up  and  dow| 
Maple  Street  with  the  rest  of  the  kids  on  the  bloc 

They  named  him  Lawrence  Westley,  and  1 
grew  up  just  in  time  to  serve  in  the  Marim 
during  the  last  war.  He  finished  college  when  1 
got  back. 

One  of  these  days  when  you're  looking  up 
number  in  the  telephone  directory,  you  migl 
just  leaf  through  the  W's  for  a  moment.  You'! 
still  see  Westley,  Mary,  on  Maple  Street  with  tl!  * 
same  listing  she  has  had  for  the  ten  years  sine,  '< 
Paul  Westley  died.  But  there's  a  new  listing  in  th  : 
book  now  that  reads  Westley,  Lawrence,  att^ 
ofc,  200  Main,  SPrng  7-1957.  They  put  it  in  th  I 
directory  only  last  fall. 

The  listing  is  in  the  usual  small  print,  but  :  1 
looks  mighty  big  to  Mary  Westley.  Yes,  and  t'l  | 
Al  Barnett,  too.  , 


NEW  YORK  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPAN^ 


Naturally,  names  used  in  this  story  are  fictitious. 


i*Aii  r  u 


"\  know  I  iniisl  Unw  it  .  .  . 
hut  I  can't  hrin^  ni>s«  lf  to  <nt  tliioii^li 

>villi  ail  <>|>*-ral  ion,  Dix  lor.  I  am  afraid."* 

B>  IIKNKY  H.  .SAKKOUl),  M.I). 


MRS.  SELMA  SAFH^ON  had  jusl  lis- 
lened  to  what  aniounled  to  an  edict 
iVoiii  llie  doctor.  "1  believe  all  tliat  you 
iiave  told  nie,"  she  said  slowly.  "In  fact, 
1  know  that  an  immediate  operation  is  im- 
perative. At  the  same  time,  I  find  it  almost 
impossible  to  brinii  myself  to  tlie  point 
where  I  can  lio  through  with  it.  Doctor,  I 
am  afraid." 

"I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Saffron,''  was  the 
prompt  reply,  "that  in  the  operation  I 
iiave  outlined  there  is  little  to  fear.  It  is 
performed  almost  daily  at  the  hospital  and, 
so  far  as  I  know,  there  hasn't  been  a  calam- 
ity resulting  in  at  least  a  year." 

"Oh,  it  isn't  the  operation,"  was  the  sur- 
prising response.  "I'm  not  at  all  afraid  of 
that.  It's  the  ether." 
"Ether!" 

"Yes,  Doctor,  ether.  When  I  was  a  little 
girl  I  had  my  tonsils  out.  Two  doctors 
came  to  our  house  and  they  put  me  on  the 
kitchen  table.  One  of  them  folded  up  a 
newspaper  along  with  a  towel  to  make  a 
Tiort  of  mask  over  my  face,  and  then  began 
to  pour  ether  into  it.  It  made  me  cough  and 
strangle,  and  I  thought  I  was  going, to  die; 
I  struggled  so  that  both  of  them  had  to 
hold  me  on  the  table.  The  last  I  can  remem- 
ber was  a  terrible  black  something  like  a 
shroud  coming  down  on  me;  when  I  woke 
up  I  was  still  coughing  and  vomiting,  and 
my  throat  was  so  sore  I  couldn't  speak.  I 
never  forgot  that  experience  and  I 've  never 
been  able  to  stand  anything  over  my  face. 
I  know  it's  foolish,  but  it's  the  truth." 

"I  quite  understand  how  you  feel,"  the 
doctor  said.  "It's  unfortunate  that  these 
childhood  impressions  stay  so  vividly  with 
us,  but  it  is  a  fact." 

"I  am  glad  you  understand  it.  Doctor. 
So  you  see  why  I  feel  that  I  cannot  undergo 
that  operation." 

"  I  have  to  disagree  with  you  upon  that 
point,  Mrs.  Saffron." 

"  But,  Doctor,  I  don't  believe  there  would 
be  enough  people  in  the  hospital  to  hold  me 
on  the  table— and  if  they  did,  I  know  it 
would  kill  me." 

"No  one  is  going  to  hold  you  forcibly 
anywhere,  Mrs.  Saffron.  That  isn't  the  way 
we  do  things  today." 

"But  I  tell  you  I  couldn't  stand  that 
thing  over  my  face — I 'd  go  out  of  my  mind. " 

"I  don't  doubt  that  you  would,  but  you 
aren't  going  to  be  subjected  to  any  such 
treatment— that  I  promise  you  solemnly." 

"But  how  " 

"Mrs.  Saffron,"  interrupted  the  doctor, 
"the  science  of  surgery  has  undergone 

Copyright.  1953.  by  Henry  B.  SafTord.  M,D. 


marvelous  changes  during  the  past  thirty 
years  and  so,  I  might  add.  has  the  science 
of  anesthesia.  At  the  lime  when  you  under- 
went that  unfortunate  o|)eration  in  your 
girlhood,  I  myself  happened  to  be  giving 
ether  on  numerous  occasions,  and  my  meth- 
ods were  as  different  from  those  in  use  to- 
day as  black  is  from  white." 

"  I  could  never  stand  that  mask  over  my 
face,  Doctor." 

"You  will  never  have  to,  Mrs.  Saffron. 
You  will  be  given  an  anesthetic  that 
doesn't  require  a  mask,  or  the  inhalation  of 
anything." 

"I  didn't  know  there  was  any  such  sub- 
stitute." 

"Oh,  indeed  there  is.  No  modern  doctor 
would  want  his  patient  put  to  sleep  under 
any  such  circumstances  as  you  experi- 
enced—the result  is  too  injurious  to  the 
patient.  Today  there  is  a  wide  choice  of 
anesthetics  available.  I  employ  an  expert 
professional  anesthetist,  the  same  one  I 
have  had  for  many  years.  After  you  have 
been  admitted  to  the  hospital,  he  will  ex- 
amine you  personally,  long  before  you  are 
due  to  go  to  the  operating  room.  He  will 
take  particular  cognizance  of  your  weight, 
condition  of  heart,  lungs  and  kidneys,  and 
blood.  Then  he  will  select  the  anesthetic 
that  is  best  adapted  to  you— and  you 
alone." 

"Will  you  tell  him  about  my— my 
phobia?" 

"I  certainly  will— all  about  it,  and  how 
you  derived  it." 

"And  you'll  tell  him  what  to  give  me?" 

"No,  Mrs.  Saffron,  I  won't  do  that.  I 
would  no  more  attempt  to  tell  him  his 
business  than  I  would  permit  him  to  tell  me 
mine.  But  you  may  be  certain  that  he 
won't  jam  a  mask  over  your  face  and  hold 
you  forcibly  on  the  operating  table.  That 
much  I  certainly  will  promise." 

"  I  wish  you'd  give  me  some  idea  of  what 
sort  of  anesthetic  I'd  get,  if  I  don't  have  to 
inhale  one." 

"  I  will  be  glad  to.  I  think  it  will  be  most 
helpful  in  dispelling  your  phobia. 

"The  anesthetics  available,"  continued 
the  doctor,  "are,  first,  the  inhalation  type, 
which  we  have  already  discussed  to  a  cer- 
tain extent.  Please  don't  understand  that 
inhalation  anesthesia  has  been  superseded 
by  other  methods.  That  is  not  true  at  all. 
Inhalation  is  still  one  of  the  most  valuable 
kinds,  particularly  in  long  operations.  For 
many  years  the  'open-cone  method,'  which 
you  remember  so  harshly,  was  considered 
the  safest  of  all.  With  modern  apparatus, 
(Conlinued  on  Page  131) 


CKlMf  60f 


lOUlD  SO(-fl 


Make  your  liair  ()l:)ey 
tlic  new  sol  I  way 

No  oil)  tijlcr-fihn...iit\t  soft  \hi >finuri iii^  hvetnty 

Now  .  .  .  ir)  till-  oiil)  liiiirdri  ssiiij^  fiiakcs  hair  <>I>C)  the 

new  so\t  way  .  .  .  Witli  iniraclc-  (Airtisol— mj  aina/iii^ly  light, 
so  penetratinj^  it  never  leaves  oily  "after-film"!  Just  a  tcjuch 
"sparkles"  hair,  jirevents  dryness  and  split  en<ls,  friz/incss 
after  a  permanent,  (jives  you  "easy-do  "  hair  instantly,  liven 
after  shampoo!  No  wonder  women  prefer  Suave  7  t<j  1. 


End  dry  hair  worries 
with  miracle  Curtisol 
Only  Suave  has  it 


For  flavor  that  says  "Hawaii!"  say  DOLE 
Pineapple  Slices!    Each  golden  circle  is 
mellow-rich,  tender,  tempting! 
■«- 

Party-time  or  any-time  pick-up,  spar- 
kling DOLE  Pineapple  Juice  is  pure  re- 
freshment—Hawaiian sunshine  in  your 
glass!  Have  some  on  hand  always. 

-» 

For  a  delightful  blend  of  textures  and 
tastes,  top  a  sunburst  of  avocado  slices 
with  juicy-sweet  DOLE  Pineapple  Tidbits. 
Pour  on  your  favorite  French  dressing, 
and  serve  with  pride! 

Send  25c  for  colorful  Hawaiian  Party  Booltto  DOLE, 
Box  B,  215  Market  Street,  S»n  Francisco  6,  California. 


Fifty  Years  A<];() 
in 

the  Journal 


IN  I'Vhruary,  !"»(».{,  iIktc  were 
more  aiil<>riii>liil<-H  in  iMirope 
ihaii  ill  llie  ILS. \.  In  Home,  llie 
I'ope  eiiiised  world-uiile  eoiii- 
ineiil  l>v  iiKikiiif:  a  idioiio-iraiih 
record  of  an  Ave  Maria.  I'res. 
Teddy  Koonevell  erealed  a  l)e- 
|iarlnienl  of  ( loiiiiiieree  and 
l,al»or  (lo  lie  wplil  in  l<)l,'{).  h'onr 
(till  of  every  liiindred  |u'rHoiis  in 
lliiseoiiiilry  luid  a  tel<-|)lioiie,  and 
llie  first  Aiiierieaii  eal)le  was 
lieiiif;  laid  from  San  h'raiieiseo  lo 
(^liiiia. 


4M»NNip  iiIm»ii( 

|i«>«»|»li'  v«iii  kiii»w, 

K<lil«»rN  v«»ii  lik«'. 

»II<I  Wlilll  4»n 

in  ^'«'w  V4»rk 


Journal  Nsiili'i  lii  ll  \  llullnijii  ( linw  Yoiiii).' Aiin-rici  Lives) 
expioroH  a  iiitw  lielil     ami  |ii('k   tin;  Mttoii  in  it. 


Willi  llie  l''eliriiiiry ,  l<)0.'5,  iMNiic, 
willi  a  liriclil  re<l  eo\er  aii<l  a 
(mIi.xoii  Kirl,  llie  .|01:K!N\L 
reaelied  u  paid  eireiilii  I  ion  of 
one  iiiillioii  <-o|ii«'s,  "iiii(>re<r- 
edeiile<l  in  litis  <'oiiiilr>,  and 
as  far  as  we  know,  I  liroii^lioiil 
llie  world,"  aniioiiiieed  l''.<iilor 
l^ok  |>roii«lly. 

Ktitiuettv:  "  i  chnfx'niii  sliiill  ar- 
compitiiY  (III  ('iifliiiioil  coiiplf  ivlicn 
Irtii'i'liiif:,  (It  the  tliciiWr  (it  iiifilu, 
and  at  liirfic  (Idiiics.  it  iiiatiiu>es 
and  when  drivinf>  in  an  open  car- 
riage thcv  inav  he  unattended  " 
decrees  the  Lady  from  Philadel- 
phia. 

Adviee  to  youiiK  mollicr.s:  "I 
have  known  many  babies  who 
never  soiled  a  diaper  after  the 
eighth  week." 

Julia  Marlowe,  in  a  Journal  in- 
-terview  at  her  4()0-arre  estate  in 
the  Catskills,  recalled  the  dis- 
comfort of  the  suit  of  armor  she  . 
wore  in  Prince  Ilal.  The  stocky 
actress  revealed,  "If  1  fell  in  it,  it 
took  two  men  to  put  ine  on  my 
feet  again."' 

"To  keep  the  hair  in  gootl  con- 
dition, it  slioiilfl  he  hriished 
nightly,  massaged  once  a  treek, 
and  shampooed  once  a  month.'' 

Fashion  note:  "Stiff  rustling 
skirts  are  now  most  undesirable, 
as  everything  should  be  soft  and 
fall  loosely  and  carelessly." 


10ST,  drivinK  out  ihroiiKh  the  eol- 
J  Ion  fii-lds  from  I'osl  «'rv  i  lie, 
TeniH-ssee,  lo  liii<l  llic  H<>\  Itoiilanilx, 
of  this  moll  I  It's  I  lou  ^olllli.:  \meri<'a 
Lives,  llenriel  la  M iirihx  k  sloppe<l 
her  car,  liiially,  lo  ask  li<-r  \>u\  of  a 
busy,  sloopiiifi:  c<illon  pi<'k<-r  in  a  sun 
helmet — when  «liose  face  slioiilil 
look  lip  from  iiihIci*  I  Ik*  Ii<*Iiih-I  but 
luir  own  Kelly  //(tji  iintii's.  down 
iberc  lo  do  I  b<-  Kou  lauds'  slory. 

"I'm  belpiiiu  Uo>  and  Dot,  ox-r 
I  Ii«'r4'  pii'kiii^  1  \\  <*L1 1  \  -  I  \>  <i  p<Mi  ikIs  illl 
hour  apiece  lo  my  ten."  Itelt>  lold 
Ileiiriella.  si rai^lil ciiiii;;  ber  back 
painfully.  ''\n<l  what  do  ><iii  ibink 
my  best  afternoon's  work  «as 
worlb?"  It<-I ly  a<l<le<l  ruefully.  "A«;- 
eordin;:  lo  l{oy,  eifihty  eenls!"" 

Millions  of  you  who  read  My  Cousin 
Rachel  in  the  Journal,  and  still  won- 
der whether  she  really  did  it  or  not, 
are  going  to  have  a  good  time  reliving 
its  exciting  uncertainty  all  over  again 
when  you  see  the  20th  Century-Fox 
movie.  Daphne  du  Maurier  devo- 


Richard  Burton,  as  Philip,  and  Olivia  de  Havilland. 
as  My  Cousin  Rachel,  give  movie-goers  heartthrobs. 


tees  from  the  Journal  Workshop  who 
covered  this  advance  screening  at 
Rockefeller  Center  secretly  hoped  the 
film  would  settle  once  and  for  all  their 
gnawing  suspicions.  But  it  didn't. 
They  loved  Olivia  de  Havilland  as 
Rachel.  They  swooned  for  the  youth- 
ful Englishman,  Richard  Burton.  He 
plays  Philip  Ashley  like  a  young 
Olivier,  two  of  them  told  us,  some- 
what breathlessly. 


Ivy  NicttoLsan,  the  nirl  in  Maxi- 
niilian''x  ermine  caf)i'  on  this  month's 
cover,  told  It  ilheta  Ciishinan,  while 
Wilhela  was  photonrafihin^  her  in  it 
here,  that  when  she  wore  this  same  ca/)e 
over  a  red  velvet  dress  at  the  Interna- 
tional Fashion  Show  in  Venice  last 
September,  she  caused  a  near-riot  among, 
alxnit  a  hundred  Italian  children  who 
swarmed  around'  her  in  admiration  on 
the  square  outside  the  Palazzo  Grassi. 
"In  that  case,"  Wilhela  warned  her, 
"don't  wear  it  out  in  Rockefeller  Plaza." 
But  we're  not  against  swartns  around 
the  newsstands,  where  we  hope  Ivy's 
ermine  cape  will  be  equally  admired. 

Research  figures  show  that  the  col- 
lesc  gradual e  earns  .Sl.i.OOO  more 
tliiriiiK  a  lifetime  than  the  bi«b- 
s<-lioo!  grad,  anil  .S7<),II(I0  more  than 
the  firade-scbocd  gra<luate. 

Princess  .\arriman's  story  of  how 
she,  an  average  Egyptian  teen-ager,  a 
commoner  just  like  Cinderella,  mar- 
ried King  Farouk,  revives 
interest  in  the  perennially 
absorbing  story  of  how 
Cinderella  got  to  the  royal 
palace.  How  old  is  the  Cin- 
derella story,  anyway? 

Lunching  with  Laura 
Lou  Itrookman  and 
Glenn  If  hile  the  other 
day,  Iris  Uahid  el  Masri, 
an  exchange  student  from 
Egypt,  claimed  the  original 
Cinderella  was  Nitokris, 
Queen  of  the  Nile  about 
2450  B.C. 

Nitokris,  it  seems,  re- 
ceived a  pair  of  golden 
sandals  from  an  admiring 
nobleman   in   barter  for 
some  cloth  her  two  wicked 
sisters  had  ordered  her  to 
market.    While  Nitokris 
was  bathing,  Horus,  the 
falconheaded  god,  carried  off  one 
golden  sandal,  dropped  it  into  the  lap 
of  a  young  prince. 

"I  take  this  as  a  sign  from  Horus 
that  he  has  chosen  my  bride  for  me," 
the  prince  told  his  counselors.  "Find 
the  owner  of  this  golden  sandal  and 
I'll  marry  her." 

Well,  the  counselors  did,  and  he  did 
marry  her,  it  says  here.  At  least  four 
thousand  years  ago,  this  was. 


Ihirinu  tlie  umlcr  iiifiitmii  setiHftn, 
orer  eiulily  I  lioiisaiitl  piiliire  /Hml 
curds  (ire  tiKiiled  eacli  day  frtiiii 
\ti(tini  1111(1  \ti(titii  Iteach  alone. 
I'here,  ihe  iiiohI  /m/mlar  tu-ui  are 
ihone  of  Jisli  ami  halhiim  IteaiitieM; 
u-hile  in  Vetr  >  or/.'  ('ily  ihe  Slatne 
oj  Liberty  is  the  hiuuesi  Heller:  In 
Hdshiiiulon.  I  he  (-tipilid.  II  asliitiu- 
lon  Moil  II  men  I  iiiiil  l.iiii  iilii  Meiiiii- 
ridl:  ill  S/i/i  i  ranrisi-ii.  llie  t^olden 
(•lite  liriilue. 

The  day  the  December  Journal  came 
out  with  Williuni  Lederer's  heart- 
warming Operation  Kid-Lrf*.  Ujlin# 

how  Marine  Air  Group  12  began  nying 
Korean  war  orphans  out  of  ao  man's 
land  back  to  the  improvised  orphan- 
age they'd  set  up  at  their  Kangnung 
advance  base,  who  should  land  here 
at  the  Workshop  but  MAG  12's  three 
top  men:  Col.  L.  S.  Moore,  Lt.  Col. 
Reginald  Myers  and  Maj.  Hoxcard 
Frazer.  Cynthia  McAdoo  soon 
had  the  situation  well  in  hand  with 
an  awe-struck  tour  from  kitchens  to 
terrace  to  entertainment  room.  "Yes, 
indeed,"  Cynthia  had  to  assure  them, 
"the  Workshop  is  really  where  we 
work."  "Well  then,  won't  fwu  let 
your  readers  know,"  Colonel  Moore 
requested,  "how  much  those  little 
kids  need  any  children's  castoff  cloth- 
ing that  can  be  packed  off  to  Kang- 
nung?" So  consider  yourselves  told, 
and  address  it  to  MAG  12,  First 
Marine  Air  Wing,  FPO  San  Fran- 
cisco. 


JOE  PI  PfETRO 


Cynthia  McAdoo  shows  MAG  12's 
"brass"  around  the  Workshop. 


34 


''If  this  story,'''  the  rich  old  man  said,  'lias  never  happened  before,  I  shall  make  it  happen  now.'' 

And  so  begins  a  tale  by  one  of  today's  great  writers.  She  captures  the  ancient  magic 
of  the  Arabian  Nights  .  .  .  and  weaves  a  fable  for  the  modem  heart. 


0 


0 


The  JoumaTs  Complete-in-One-Issue  Novel 


IN  the  sixties  of  the  last  century  there  Hved 
in  Canton  an  immensely  rich  tea  trader 
whose  name  was  Mr.  Clay.  He  was  a  tall,  dry 
and  close  old  man.  He  had  a  magnificent  house 
and  a  splendid  equipage,  and  he  sat  in  the  midst 
of  both,  erect,  silent  and  alone. 

Amongst  the  other  Europeans  of  Canton, 
Mr.  Clay  had  the  name  of  an  iron-hard  man 
and  a  miser.  His  looks,  voice  and  manner, 
more  than  anything  actually  known  against 
him,  had  made  him  this  reputation.  All  the 
same,  two  or  three  stories  about  him,  many 
times  repeated,  seemed  to  bear  out  the  general 
opinion  of  the  man. 

One  of  the  stories  ran  as  follows: 
Fifteen  years  ago  a  French  merchant,  who 
at  one  time  had  been  Mr.  Clay's  partner,  but 
later,  after  a  quarrel  between  them,  had  started 
on  his  own,  was  ruined  by  unlucky  specula- 
tions. As  a  last  chance  he  tried  to  get  a  consign- 
ment of  tea  on  board  the  clipper  Thermopylae, 
which  lay  in  the  harbor  ready  to  get  under  way. 
But  he  owed  Mr.  Clay  the  sum  of  three  hundred 
guineas,  and  his  creditor  laid  hands  on  the  tea, 
got  .his  own  shipment  of  tea  off  with  the 


Thermopylae,  and  by  this  move  ruined  his 
rival.  The  Frenchman  lost  all,  his  house  was 
sold,  and  he  was  thrown  upon  the  streets  with 
his  family.  When  he  saw  no  way  out  of  his  mis- 
fortune, he  committed  suicide. 

Mr.  Clay  took  over  the  dead  man's  house,  a 
big  beautiful  villa  with  a  large  garden  in  which 
peacocks  strutted  on  the  lawns.  He  was  living 
in  it  today. 

In  the  course  of  time  this  story  had  taken 
on  the  character  of  a  myth.  Dupont,  it  was  told, 
on  the  last  day  of  his  life  had  called  together 
his  pretty,  gentle  wife  and  his  bright  young 
children.  Since  all  their  misery,  he  declared, 
had  risen  from  the  moment  when  he  first  set 
eyes  on  the  face  of  Mr.  Clay,  he  now  bound 
them  by  a  solemn  vow  never  to  look  into  that 
face  again.  It  was  also  told  that  when  he  had 
been  about  to  leave  his  h'ouse,  of  which  he  was 
very  proud,  he  had  burned  or  smashed  up 
every  object  of  art  in  it.  But  he  had  left  in  all 
the  rooms  the  tall  gilt-framed  looking  glasses 
brought  out  from  France,  which  till  now  had 
reflected  only  gay  and  affectionate  scenes,  with 

the  words  that  it  (Continued  on  Page  Qt) 


Now  that  she  was  alone  she  no  longer  thought  of  leaving. 

Mysteriously,  this  night  would  bring  about  the 
final  judgment  of  her  old  deadly  enemy. 


GEORGK  TALHOTleft  the  parly  early 
and  drove  lioriie  by  himself,  as  he  usu- 
ally did.  George  had  no  iiitentioti  of  being 
lured  into  a  situation  with  any  of  the  smart, 
pretty  girls  who  were  in  a  luring  mood.  He 
knew  better  than  most  men  how  (tne  thing 
leads  to  another.  He  had  resisted  all  the 
attempts  by  his  friends,  his  sister-in-law 
and  his  grandmother  to  introduce  him  to 

just  the  nicest  girl   

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  George?" 
asked  his  best  friend  and  law  partner.  Bill 
Davis.  "Why  don't  you  just  try?" 

"I  know  wlton  I'm  well  oil,"  said  George. 
"And  besides,  you're  married  to  the  only 
girl  I  ever  really  liked.  I'm  crazy  about  her; 
she  makes  the  best  lobster  sauce  I  ever  ate." 

"O.K.,  then,  dinner  Saturday  night,"  Bill 
told  him.  "But  do  bring  a  girl;  pick  up 
somebody  from  somewhere." 

"The  fringes  of  civilization,"  grinned 
George,  "and  she  won't  know  how  to  play 
bridge,  so  we  won't  have  four  anyway." 

"We  can  play  canasta,"  said  Bill.  "Any- 
body can  play  that." 

"That's  what  you  think,  because  you 
don't  play  with  your  old  bean.", 

George  liked  his  work — he  was  a  very 
good  lawyer — and  he  liked  his  little  house 


at  the  edge  of  loN\n,  and  In-  hkr<j  ihr  woman 
who  eanw!  in  and  "did"  lor  liirn.  II.-  <  cmiM 
do  exactly  as  he  [)lcased,  no  complications. 
When  he  thought  it  over  seriously,  hi- 
couldn't  think  of  anything  llial  < ould  dis- 
turb his  well-balan(!cd  life,  aiid  the  riiorc 
divorce  cases  that  rolled  In  ac  ross  Mill's 
desk,  the  more  he  realized  lidw  Iik  k\  Ik- was. 

Girls  had  always  chased  him;  tlic\  (  niiMn  i 
help  it.  In  his  teens  it  was  |)rctty  bud;  llic 
minute  his  tall  figure  appeared  in  a  doorway, 
the  girls  came  around.  So  did  the  mammas. 
Not  just  for  his  dark  blue  eyes,  intelligent 
mouth,  good  nose  and  strong,  well-modeled 
chin.  Not  for  his  background,  especially. 
George  just  had  charm.  Nobody  could 
analyze  it;  everybody  was  too  busy  respond- 
ing to  it.  But  by  the  time  he  was  out  of  col- 
lege and  temporarily  out  of  the  Navy, 
George  had  had  enough  of  girls.  He  played 
the  field  and  was  careful. 

So  he  left  the  party  early,  avoiding  the 
taking  home  of  somebody's  sister  or  cousin. 
He  wasn't  going  to  stay  out  all  night,  kiss 
some  girl  who  smelled  of  Martinis  and  Ec- 
stasy perfume,  get  to  work  the  next  day  hung 
over  and  tired.  No,  he  was  going  home  and 
have,  of  all  things,  a  glass  of  milk,  read  half 

an  hour  quietly  (Continued  on  Page  138) 


'Don't  avoid  the  issue,"  she  said. 

"You're  the  man  who  lured  my  dog 


ILLU STBATED  BT 


By  RICHARD  PRATT 

Architectural  Editor  of  the  Journal 


The  glories  of  the  great  entrance  hall  begin  with  the  double  pendent  arch  and  the  big  shell-crowned 
cabinet  now  filled  ivith  the  owner's  fabulous  collection  of  rare  milk  -glazed  early  blanc  de  Chine. 


ON  its  lovely  rise  of  land  below  Annapolis  and  fronting 
its  grove  of  ancient  tulip  poplars,  which  together  gave 
this  great  old  house  its  name,  Tulip  Hill  looks  out  over  the 
West  River  reaches  awaiting  its  second  centennial  in  a  sort  of 
radiance  that  is  rare  even  in  a  region  as  rich  in  early  architec- 
ture as  Anne  Arundel  County.  It  is  a  fortunate  house  as  great 
houses  go.  Beautiful  to  begin  with,  it  has  had  no  disasters,  no 


disfigurements;  age  has  only  made  it  more  beautiful;  and  now3 
nearing  two  hundred,  it  finds  itself  in  the  hands  of  discerning 
and  devoted  owners  able  to  lavish  it  with  attentions.  Unlike" 
many  other  fine  early  homes,  its  best  luck  came  late  in  life. 

It  was  built  in  1756  by  Samuel  and  Anne  Galloway, 
wealthy  Quakers;  but  it  was  never  to  be  occupied  by  them 
together,  Anne  dying  in  childbed  just  before  the  house  was 


i 


'I'lilil'  llill  M  irry  jinlty  fm,,,/  of  liit-  ftul  lluil  n  /j/wv  ,,;/,  /„  ,„  „ 
fxiUiin-s  frnm  nnhilniurnl  imrUm  in  nrinin  nl  ih  ilrk,n„  ,/„ 


On,  III,  I, III,'  „,ll,  1,1,1,-  „n,l  ninulum  ,l„-,n>s  on  ll„  ShniUm  ^t.hl^Htr,!  ,ti  llf  iluiuiK 
i,mni  hnnns  ,m  ,inli,i,„-  J„,„m,-u-  ^',,1,1  i„w,t.;l  vn;-n  in  ll„-  Ch,,,,  /,/,    /„/,/,  Sl„„iUm.  ,l,mn  Hep/,lruhilr. 


ready,  j;i\in^  |i(iii;n;ni(  \  hi  llic  (■ai\ci|  in  llic  |iciliiiirMi 

ol  llic  poitli.  Saimicl  iicvci-  iciiiairicd,  liul  |)r()S()rrc(l  in 
lorcigii  Iradc  with  liis  fleol  of  slii|)s:  among  llicrii  tlic  Tulip, 
llie  Grove,  llio  IMaiilcr,  ihe  Swallow,  lie  cslablislu'd  a  famous 
slahlo  of  racing  horses,  and  ctilcrlaiiied  miglilily  at  Tulip 
llill.  (leorgc  Washinglon  dropping  in  lor  diinier  hel'ore  a  hall 
or  alter  the  races  was  a  matler  of  common  occurrence  .  .  . 
if  anything  that  happened  then  and  there  can  he  looked 
upon  now  as  a  common  occurrence — either  the  people,  their 
i)lace  in  histors,  or  the  wonderful  old  houses  themselves. 


Much  i)J  the  furnishings  ihroughoni  ihc  house  betoken 
the  present  owners'  long  residence  in  China,  from 
where  indeed  so  much  of  eighteenth-century  English 
decoration  received  its  inspiration,  making  Queen 
Anne  and  Sheraton  at  liome  here  with  early  Ch'ing. 


My  father  did  not  even  belong 
to  Court  circles  .  .  .  yet 
I  sat  at  my  husband's  side 
upon  a  throne  and 
gladly  followed  him  into  exile. 
And  I  found  love  such  as 
I  would  never  have  dared  hope  for. 


Editors^  Note:  The  revealing  autobiography 
of  which  this  is  the  first  installment  is  pub- 
lished because  it  is  an  intimate  glimpse  into 
a  totally  different  social  world — of  Islamic 
customs  and  Eastern  traditions.  Oriental 
opulence  unknown  outside  of  The  Arabian 
Nights  to  democratic  Western  readers.  Prin- 
cess Narriman''s  occasional  opinions  of  polit- 
ical events  in  Egypt  are,  of  course,  her  own 
and  do  not,  in  any  way,  necessarily  represent 
those  of  the  editors  of  the  Journal. 

MY  husband,  the  banished  King  of  Egypt, 
burst  into  a  sonorous  laugh  at  the  idea 
that  I  was  going  to  tell  the  story  of  my  life. 

"You  are  only  eighteen  years  old,"  he  said 
to  me,  smiling.  "How  can  you  speak  about  a 
book  of  which  you  have  read  so  few  pages?'- 
That,  of  course,  is  true.  I  am  not  yet  grown 
up.  I  was  not  eighteen  until  the  thirtieth 
of  October  of  last  year.  But  in  this  short  time 
I  have  become  a  wife  and  mother.  Three 
charming  little  princesses  are  my  stepdaugh- 
ters and  I  have  a  baby  son  of  my  own  who, 
one  day,  by  the  grace  of  Allah,  will  be  a  reign- 
ing king.  I  have  myself  been  a  reigning  queen, 
been  besieged  in  a  palace  and  have  watched 
men  die  for  my  sake. 

I  have  sat  at  my  husband's  side  upon  a 
throne  and  gladly  followed  him  into  the  new 
world  of  exile.  In  my  short  lifetime,  I  have 
moved  from  a  quiet  childhood  spent  in  a 
suburb  of  Cairo,  and  been  received  into  the 
palaces  and 'the  great  houses  of  the  world.  My 
blood  is  now  mingled  with  the  royal  blood  of 
Egypt;  it  has  become  a  part  of  it  for  all  eter- 
nity. I  have  traveled  through  many  lands  and 
capitals  and  I  spent  my  honeymoon  on  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  yachts  in  this  world.  At  my 
side  was  a  husband  skilled  in  the  art  of  living. 

Copyright,  1953,  by  the  International  Press  ^Alliance  Corporation 


In  Rome,  Narriinan  studied  Court  etiquette  and  other 
duties  of  a  queen.  King  Farouk  had  allowed  a  year  for 
her  to  reach  his  exacting  standards,  but  was  highly 
pleased  when  she  completed  her  training  in  7  months. 


l'';ii(Uik.,  will)  Ix'caiiif  a  kiti^  at  llic  age  of  16, 
ivas  vacationing  at  Deauvilie  when  he  announced 
:hat  lie  would  marry  17-year-old  Narriman.  Here 
le  wears  the  uniform  of  an  Admiral  of  the  Fleet. 


rn 


And  I  found  love  such  as  I  would  never 
have  dared  to  hope  for.  This  may  seem  strange 
to  people  in  the  Western  world  who  read  that 
my  marriage  was  forced  upon  me.  It  was  said 
I  was  deeply  in  love  with  a  man  named  Zachi 
Hashem  and  that  we  were  actually  shopping 
together  for  our  engagement  ring  when  King 
Farouk  caught  sight  of  me  and  immediately 
gave  orders  that  I  should  become  his  wife.  It 
was  also  said  that  Zachi  Hashem  was  offered  an 
ambassadorship  as  consolation,  and  instructed 
immediately  to  marry  some  other  woman. 

What  a  romantic  fable!  Things  could  never 
have  happened  in  this  manner  and  this  story 
reflects  the  mixed  opinions  of  two  worlds:  the 
Western  and  the  Oriental  worlds. 

You  see,  I  am  a  young  woman  who  was 
brought  up  in  the  Islamic  faith  and  my  parents 
are  orthodox  Moslems.  To  show  myself  pub- 
licly in  a  shop  with  my  future  husband  would 
be  as  contrary  to  our  custom  as  if  we  both  went 
out  onto  the  streets  unclothed. 

A  young  lady  brought  up  in  the  Islamic 
faith  rarely  sees  her  future  husband  more 
than  a  few  times  during  the  course  of  solemn 
interviews  and  perhaps  at  an  official  dinner. 
These  meetings  always  take  place  in  the  house 
of  her  parents,  in  the  presence  of  her  mother 
and  her  (Continued  on  Page  126) 


Wedding  gown,  of  cream  satin  embroidered  with 
six  thousand  jewels  and  a  million  pearl  sequins, 
was  "so  rich  and  heavy  that  it  almost  stood  by 
itself."  King  posed  with  his  bride  at  Abdin  Palace. 


M  l{()Y  \l.  i'KINCKSS  .\ \.\ 

as  lull!  In 


42 


Shf  hroliv  the  hearts  ot  ht'r  friends— and  leneir 

her  beauty  irould  irin  them  haek.  But  the  ttne 
person  irhose  lore  she  iranted  irould  nerer  he  fooled. 


By  MAY  DAVIES  MARTENET 


I,  Taw  Jameson,  am  writing  in  a  prison  cell, 
but  I  am  not  sad  to  be  here,  and  the  story  I 
have  to  tell  is  a  rich  one.  The  Hcywards  were 
my  life  and  their  story  peculiarly  my  own.  I 
grew  up  in  mountain  poverty,  and  was  turned 
down  for  military  service  in  1918  because  of 
weak  lungs.  Then  I  went  to  work  in  the  home 
of  Mr.  Hey  ward,  mill  owner  and  richest  man 
in  the  Southern  town  named  for  his  family. 

Chloe  Hey  ward  was  eight  years  old  then,  so 
exquisite  that  her  ambitious  mother  had  for- 
bidden her  to  play  with  local  children  because 
she  might  injure  her  perfect  body.  She  was 
being  educated  by  "Aunt  Lou"  Anderson, 
Mr.  Heyward's  elderly  cousin.  Mrs.  Heyward 
was  the  most  beautiful  woman  I  had  ever 
seen,  but  she  made  her  child  a  prisoner,  sur- 
rounded by  wealth.  Chloe's  only  real  friend 
was  Peter  Mebane,  two  years  older,  son  of  the 
town  doctor.  Peter  vowed  that  he  woultl  never 
leave  Chloe,  but  I  knew  her  mother  would 
drive  him  away.  I,  who  had  heard  Chloe  crying 
out  in  her  sleep,  knew  the  child's  heart  was 
breaking.  Sometimes  I  had  to  escape  and 
spend  a  few  hours  with  Ola-Mae  Hawkes. 

When  Mrs.  Heyward  cold-bloodeilly  used 
her  beauty  to  take  Mr.  Preston  Easley's 
house — the  finest  house  in  town — away  from 
him,  I  knew  Chloe  would  be  deeply  hurt.  She 
loved  her  old  home  with  a  strange  passion — 
the  house,  and  Nasturtium,  her  Negro  nurse, 
who  was  for  her  the  mother  she  had  never 
found  in  Mrs.  Heyward. 

n  "Well— out  with  it,  Taw.  What  is  it?" 
Aunt  Lou  yanked  at  the  chain  of  her  Httle 
nose-pinching  glasses.  "Let's  look  at  you. 
What  is  it  you  want  me  to  do?"  she  asked. 

Copyright,  1953.  by  May  Daviea  Martenet 


1  just  stood  there,  hanging  on  with  both 
hands  to  my  chauffeur's  cap.  I  could  hear 
Chloe  outside,  yipping  and  hallooing  to  her- 
self, running  in  the  crystal  air,  kicking  up 
the  dr^  leaves  over  the  campus,  and  still 
Aunt  Lou  leaned  toward  me. 

"Ma'am,"  I  said,  "Mrs.  Anderson.  I  was 
wondering  if — if  you  would  be  someway  will- 
ing to  teach  me  too."  My  cap  bent  in  my 
hands  and  I  cleared  my  throat.  "I  mean — 
my  nights  off — if  you'd  let  me  come.  I'd 
study.  If  we  could  read  and  you  would  talk 
to  me.  I  mean — with  my  pay.  I  could  maybe 
afford  to  pay  what  it  should  be." 

The  long  folds  of  Aunt  Lou's  face  were 
turning  thin,  like  paper.  I  was  scared  for  a 
minute.  Then,  "You  should  realize,"  she 
said,  "that  I  would  gladly  pay  to  have  you 
come  and  talk  to  me,  Taw — if  there  were  to 
be  money  paid  on  either  side.  But  there  will 
not  be.  Come  whenever  you  like." 

When  I  got  outdoors  Chloe  came  running 
to  meet  me  at  the  car.  She  had  little  red 
shoes  and  a  red  cape  and  we  were  both  laugh- 
ing. We  breathed  in  deep,  as  if  we  could  get 
the  blue  out  of  the  sky  into  our  lungs. 

This  day  was  like  a  bell  swinging  in  from 
time  to  catch  us,  and  all  the  town,  inside  its 
gold  cup.  At  sunrise  the  voices  had  been 
calling  "Extra!  Extra!"  through  all  the 
streets  while  the  factory  whistles  were  nearly 

blown  out  with  (Continued  on  Page  64) 


"Stop  this!''''  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "And  let  me  tell  you:  I  am  the  last  woman  on 
earth  who\l  heany  mans" — slie  broke  off,  quivering  from  head  to  foot — "strumpet!" 


44 


Who  says  you  can't  hear  music 
when  there  is  no  music?  Who  says 
poetry  has  to  have  words? 


The  girl  laughed,  an  uncettain, 
shaky  little  laugh.  "This  is  the  most 
ridiculous  thing,^^  she  said. 


45 


TlIEY  made  Miss  Scliullze  sick, 
both  of  them.  The  boy — he  was, 
perhaps,  twenty-four,  but  she  always 
thought  of  him  as  "the  boy"  —  tall,  quiet, 
the  "serious  type,"  she  thought.  The 
girl — she  was  a  quiet  little  thing,  too,  but 
real  pretty  when  you  looked  riglit  at  her.  A 
nice  girl,  was  Miss  Schultze's  diagnosis. 
Twice  a  day,  five  days  a  week,  she  saw  them 
both — and  they  certainly  made  her  sick. 

At  noon.  Miss  Schultze  had  charge  of 
Salads,  which  were  at  the  start  of  the  line. 
In  the  morning,  she  was  Eggs,  which  was 
also  close  to  the  entrance,  right  beyond  the 
trays,  the  silverware,  the  ice-water  tank.  So 
she  saw  them,  morning  and  noon,  from  the 
minute  they  came  into  the  cafeteria.  Youd 
think  being  young  lasted  forever,  she'd  fume, 
watching  them.  Youd  think  you  have  all  the 
time  in  the  world!  She  could  have  told  them! 
She'd  look  at  the  boy  and  concentrate,  just 
as  hard  as  she  could:  Speak  to  her!  she'd 
think.  Speak  to  her!  Even  if  you  only  say, 
"Good  morning!'''  Open  your  mouth 
and  say,  "It's  a  nice  day." 
Say  anything! 

But  the  boy  never 
said  anything — to  the 
girl.  To  Miss  Schultze, 
he'd  say,  pleasantly 
enough,  "Good 


morning.  Two  scramiiicd  eggs  again  today, 
please."  So  she  knew  he  wasn't  tongue-lied. 
And  he  had  a  nice  voice.  She'd  put  in  tiu;  or- 
der for  his  eggs,  stick  the  little  ticket  for 
them  on  his  tray  so  Jim,  at  the  end  of  the 
line,  would  know  to  give  them  to  him — and 
on  he'd  go.  And,  maybe  two  minutes  lalci, 
the  girl  would  come  in.  Fresh,  dainty  and  so 
touchingly  young — and  with  a  look  in  her 
eyes  that  Miss  Schultze  could  recognize.  A 
poet  whose  name  she  did  not  know  had  writ- 
ten about  that  look.  "I  wander,  lonely  as  a 
cloud,"  he  had  written. 

Orange  juice,  the  girl  would  take,  and  cold 
cereal,  and  coffee.  Then,  by  craning  her 
neck.  Miss  Schultze  could  see  them  at  their 
separate  tables,  eating  their  separate  break- 
fasts, going  their  separate  ways. 

At  lunch,  it  was  the  same  thing.  Miss 
Schultze  was  forty,  and  for  herself  she  had 
given  up,  but  this  girl  had  come,  absurdly 
enough,  to  take  the  pla(;e  of  herself-when- 
young,  in  her  thinking.  Don't  just  keep  your 
eyes  on  your  plate — look  up.  Look  around. 
Look  receptive!  willed  Miss  Schultze,  who, 
when  nineteen  herself,  had  kept  her  own 
eyes  firmly  lowered. 

And  if  she  weren't  preoccupied  with  her 
food,  the  girl  read  books  in  dark  bindings, 
or  literary-looking  magazines,  the  kind  with 
no  pictures,  no-or  very  few-advertisements. 


When   Miss  Schultze  read 
she  favored  love  stories.  She  read 
them  all  ui-i(ully,  because,  written 
down  like  that,  it  alTseemed  so  perfectly 
simple  and  easy.  The  boy  meets  the  girl — 
and  cnchanlment  begins.  It  is  love.  They 
know  it  is  love  because  they  are  able  to  hear 
music  when  there  is  no  music.  Or  because 
suddeidy  they  are  possessed  of  the  knack  of 
walking  on  thin  air.  Some  extremely  casual 
event,  the  kind  of  thing  that  you'd  think 
might  happen  to  anyone,  sets  the  whole 
busine-;s  olf,  and  presto!  before  you  can  say 
Jack  Robinson,  tfic  two»are  walking  off  to- 
gether, hand  in  hand,  into  a  golden  sunset. 

"What  are  you  reading,  Miss  Schultze?" 
asked  the  new  cashier. 

Miss  Schultze  gave  a  little  start.  She  had 
not  heard  him  come  up  behind  her.  It  was 
during  the  lull  that  always  occurs  between 
eleven  and  eleven-thirty,  after  which  the 
first  lunchers  begin  straggling  in.  The  new 
cashier  looked  like  Abe  Lincoln,  she 
thought — only  so  few^  of  Mr.  Lincoln's  pic- 
tures show  him  smiling. 

"Just  trash,"  Miss  Schultze  said,  hold 
ing  the  magazine  up  so  he  could  see,  and 
saying  it  herself  first,  to  be  on  the  safe 
side.  Anybody'd  know  it  was  laugh- 
able, in  a  way,  for  a  woman  her 
(Continued  on  Page  132) 


by  Marjoric  Carter 


.\cw  furniture  and  a  few  antiques  mingle  pleasantly  i 
an  old  room.  The  carpel  inspired  the  gay  color  schcmt 


by  Henrietta  I^Iurdock 

Interior  Dccnraiinn'  Editor  oj  tlw  Jotirnill  \ 

WHEN  a  delighted  young  couple  acquired  an  ol 
house  and  appealed  to  us  for  decoration  advict 
we  responded  with  a  step-by-step  plan  which  worl^ 
like  a  charm.  "We  like  antiques  and  all  the  charmin 
old  accessories  that  go  with  them,"'  they  said,  "bi^ 
how  do  we  fill  in  with  today's  traditional  pieces  ar^ 
what  do  we  do  first?"  The  finished  room,  abov^ 
shows  you  how  step-by-step  decoration  works. 

The  first  thing  we  did  was  to  select  our  flowery 
carpet  to  contrast  the  plain  white  walls,  which  wp 


H^VROU)  FOWLER 


leasantly  in  character  with  the  old  house.  From  the 
irpet  we  got  our  color  scheme  of  American-beauty 
id  and  mint  green,  which  we  repeated  in  the  fur- 
ishmgs.  Matching  the  rose  red  in  the  carpet  for  our 
raperies,  we  carried  the  warm  color  up  onto  the  white 
alls  and  framed  the  greens  outside  the  windows. 
Upholstered  pieces  were  the  next  consideration, 
s  you  doubtless  have  discovered,  an  eighteenth- 
3ntury  wing  chair  and  a  man's  club-style  chair,  to- 
other with  a  Lawson-type  sofa,  are  almost  standard 


teures...  Way's 

requirements  in  today's  traditional  living  room.  Their 
inviting  comfort  is  a  part  of  family  life,  and  you  can 
expect  to  use  them  indefinitely.  Choose  the  upholstery 
fabrics  for  each  piece  after  you  have  decided  on  its 
location  in  the  room,  so  that  the  two  main  colors  in 
your  scheme  are  distributed  pleasingly.  When  this 
is  done,  you  have  the  color  scheme  established  and 
the  big  furniture  grouped  to  best  advantage.  Next 
place  the  small  tables  handily,  choosing  each  of  them 
to  suit  the  height  of  the  chair  or  the  scale  of  a  lamp. 


These  decisions  follow  one  another  and  in  every 
case  should  be  made  deliberately.  Next  comes  the  fun 
of  placing  your  furniture  in  the  room.  Every  woman 
knows  where  a  treasured  antique  will  go  before  she 
buys  it.  This  is  the  reason  the  old  spinet  desk  in  the 
room  above  accommodated  itself  to  the  space  bet^s'een 
the  windows,  and  the  drop-leaf  table  slipped  into  the 
niche  to  the  left  of  the  fireplace. 

Doing  one  thing  at  a  time,  you  progress  to  a  finishea 
result  that  is  sure  to  make  a  charming  room. 


48 


Below — Starting  week, 
189  pounds,  Size  18  dress. 

Right — 12  weeks  later, 
145  pounds,  Size  12  dress. 


When  Helen  Fraley's  story  of  how 
she  dieted  and  lost  160  pounds  ap- 
peared in  the  August,  1952,  issue  of 
the  Journal,  one  of  the  first  people 
she  heard  from  was  sixteen-year- 
old  Betsy  McEachen,  of  California. 
Betsy's  letter,  written  on  the  very 
day  she  received  her  magazine,  be- 
gan: "Your  story  has  given  me  the 
encouragement  I  need." 

Betsy's  letter,  combined  with  the 
hundreds  of  other  letters  received 
from  readers  asking  for  diet  advice, 
voiced  what  the  Journal  believed, 
too:  Helen  Fraley''s  heartening 
example  and  friendly  sympathy  will 
encourage  many.  To  help  all  readers 
who  are  currently  trying  to  lose 
weight,  the  Beauty  Department  has 
asked  Mrs.  Fraley  to  join  us  in 
working  out  a  series  of  special  diet 
stories,  approved  by  experts,  to  cover 
a  variety  of  overweight  problems. 

In  this  issue,  Mrs.  Fraley  talks 
to  all  teen-agers  who  are  tormented 
by  too  many  pounds. 


JOHN  ENGSTEAD 


Dear  Mrs.  Fraley:  I  am  a  new  teen-ager!  Today  I 
weigh  145  pounds  and  wear  a  Size  12  dress!  ( Editors 
note:  And  she  does!  We  helped  select  it.)  I  lost  44 
pounds  in  twelve  weeks!  Because  it  was  your  story  that 
inspired  me  to  reduce,  I  thought  you  would  like  to 
hear  the  happy  news.  I  began  my  diet  several  weeks 
after  my  first  letter  to  you.  My  doctor  kept  records  of 
my  progress  when  he  saw  me  each  Thursday  after 
school. 

At  last  I  can  go  into  stores  and  pick  out  pretty, 
young-looking  clothes!  Two  weeks  ago  I  went  out  on 
my  first  real  date  and  had  a  wonderful  time.  Best  of  all, 
my  family  is  so  proud  of  me! 

It  lias  hard  to  start  my  diet.  But  soon  I  actually 
liked  eating  less  because  I  felt  like  doing  more 
things — and  I  had  more  things  to  do!  Keeping  busy 
keeps  me  away  from  the  refrigerator  and  cooky  jar. 

Thank  you,  Mrs.  Fraley,  for  helping  me  find  a  new 
life  in  such  a  short  time!      Very  sincerely, 

Betsy  McEachen 


For  Betsy  s  daily  diet  plan,  sample  menus^ 
list  of  low-calorie  foods  to  choose  from, 

and  records  of  her  iveight  and 
measurement  losses,  turn  to  Page  84. 


Deeply  touched  by  the  letters 
she  has  received,  Helen  Fraley 
hopes  to  help  all  overweights 
through  the  Journal's  series  of 
special  diet  stories  for  1953! 


By  Dawn  Crowell  Norman 

Bcanty  Ettitar  nf  tliv  Jimrntil 


•  0  * 


Dear  Journal  Teen-Agers:  I  wish  I  had  reduced 
twenty  years  ago  instead  of  lumbering  through 
my  teens  and  twenties  as  the  "town  fat  girl." 
When  I  was  Betsy's  age  I  weighed  200  pounds. 
I  was  teased  or  pitied  but  never  included.  Parties 
went  merrily  on  without  me. 

It  takes  a  little  while,  in  the  beginning,  to 
"educate"  your  attitude  as  well  as  your  appetite. 
Give  yourself  a  new  weight  goal  and  a  definite 
time  limit.  You'll  find  it  helpful  to  set  your  "diet 
clock"  by  your  social  calendar.  Is  there  a  spring 
formal  coming  up?  A  church  supper?  Some- 
body's party?  Whatever  the  special  event,  keep 
it  firmly  in  mind  each  time  temptation  stalks 


your  diet  path.  Suppose  the  sight  of  a  hot-fudge 
sundae  makes  you  weaken.  Before  the  first  taste 
ask  yourself  this  question:  "Which  would  I 
rather  have?  Five  minutes'  worth  of  pleasure 
from  this  fattening  food — or  a  real  compliment?" 

It  is  most  important  to  diet  the  way  Betsy 
did — with  a  doctor's  approval  and  supervision. 
To  help  you  get  off  to  a  good  start,  I  have  worked 
out  some  of  my  favorite  tricks  and  treats  for 
all  teen-age  dieters,  plus  a  list  of  low-calorie 
school-lunch  suggestions.  I  hope  you  like  them. 

I'll  be  back  again  in  March.  How  many  pounds 
can  you  lose  by  then?  A  very  happy  ex  fat  girl, 

Helen  Fraley. 


Tricks  and  treats  for  teen-age  dieters 


Keep  up  your  good  spirits  along  with  your  good 
health  by  eating  three  regular  meals  a  day.  A 
cranky  dieter  is  no  more  desirable  than  an 
awkward  fatty! 

You  needn't  he  a  "social  outcast"  just  because 
you  are  on  a  diet.  When  you  visit  the  soda  foun- 


tain with  the  rest  of  the  gang,  remember  there 
are  plenty  of  low-calorie  treats  waiting  for  you. 
Try  fresh  orange  juice  instead  of  the  demon  that 
comes  in  a  banana-split  dish.  Or  limeade  or 
lemonade  made  with  fresh  fruit  and  plain  water. 

How  about  a  tall  (Continued  on  Page  84) 


SHE:  "I  uoH  Bt'iunii  ii„,i,,-  „iii,  i(„i,,i,.  /•,,•  „/„„>,  i„-,i,  Ml,.-     „,/..</  ,„,• 
HE:  "itrf,,,-,,,  Mi>  uif,  „,,,i  „M  ,/,/,(,  /  ,,.  ,,,  ,/,,,  /,„,,/  // 

/<»l'«-«  /lie  s,,  /,,,/,  /(,  II  /m   I  il,rf   Wli-  /.  Kill         ,1./,/  ,11,,/  mi/Wmi,  /,>" 


SECOND  OF  A  SERIES 

O/  i;//  //,!•  miirri(if(r.i  ilitil  liiivc  inh-ii  filtin-  in  ilir 
l  iiilnl  Stairs  ilitrinff  tlw  putt  Irii  yfuri,  .11)  pi-r  rent 
will  /imlmlilY  mil  in  the  tUvimc  rourl.i.  MoiU  of  t/iiit 
rxrrssirr  Urriikiiffr  riiidil  Itiivr  hrrn  jirrimlrtl  hy 
l>ri>i>rr  prrpiniiliim  fur  niitrriaf(r;  tlir  f>rrtitrr  part 
<>l  it  am  lie  itvuitlril  Ity  aunprtrnt  lirlp  rirn  nfirr 
llir  coiipir  havr  f(ol  llicmmhrs  into  MTiim%  lUJji- 
riillirs.  Far  nearly  a  f/urirtrr  of  n  century  the  Amrr- 
irnn  Inslitiilr  of  luimily  Krinliims  hns  hrrn  niilinf( 
firoplr  lliroii/rlioiit  ihr  tuition  to  ffrt  in  toiirh  with 
such  hrip,  and  it  giies  intensive  cotinM:linf(  in  //i 
own  offices  to  tnorc  than  'KHH)  persons  each  year. 
Its  staff  now  numbers  37  counselors;  the  one  rcspnn- 
sihirfor  this  rase  teas  Mrs.  Kulh  Roliinsiin. 

Fai  l  I'oimcnok,  Director 

Alice  tells  her  side 

"Ever)  lliiii-^  is  tJcacJ  tn  lwcern  Ralph  ami 
me,"  said  Alice  to  the  marriage  eouiiselor. 
"I  live  under  the  same  roof  with  the  man  I 
love  and  our  four  children,  hut  I  live  alone," 
and  then  she  burst  into  floods  of  helpless 
tears.  A  tall,  handsome  hlonde  of  thirty-four, 
thirty  pounds  heavier  than  in  her  girlhood, 
Alice  sobbed  for  ten  minutes  before  she  was 
able  to  go  on:  "I'm  in  desperate  need  of 
help.  Ralph  is  on  the  verge  of  walking  out 
on  us.  Please  help  me  get  my  husband  back 
before  he  leaves  me  and  the  children  to 
starve. 

'Tor  five  days,"  said  Alice,  "Ralph  hasn't 
spoken  a  word  to  me.  Not  one.  I  ask  and  ask 
if  he  loves  me  and  he  just  turns  his  head. 
He  won't  even  look  at  me.  He  eats  his  meals 
without  speaking,  without  noticing  that  I've 
specially  cooked  chops  or  a  steak,  his  favor- 
ite foods.  After  he  finishes  eating  he  picks 
up  a  book  or  magazine  and  reads  or  just  sits 
in  a  chair  staring  into  space,  thinking  his 
own  thoughts  and  shutting  me  out.  I'm 
sure  he's  planning  how  to  escape  from  us. 

"Ralph  is  a  free-lance  accountant  and 
works  at  irregular  times,"  the  distracted 
wife  continued,  "but  he  spends  hours  on 
end  away  from  our  apartment.  When  I  ques- 
tion him  he  lies.  Last  Tuesday  he  was  gone 
all  night.  When  he  breezed  in  at  six  in  the 
morning  I  could  see  he  was  furiously  angry 
to  find  me  sick  with  worry  and  waiting  up 
for  him,  although  he  wouldn't  admit  it.  My 
husband  is  as  miserly  with  words  as  with 
money.  Finally — by  then  it  was  eight  o'clock 
and  Bobby  and  Jean  were  up  and  trying  to 
get  ready  for  school  and  I  was  hysterical 
from  trying  to  learn  where  Ralph  had 
been — he  told  me  he'd  been  hunting  for 
extra  work.  You  don't  hunt  accountancy 
jobs  in  the  middle  of  the  night! 

"Oh,  I  know  very  well,"  said  Alice  in 
bitter  despair,  "how'  my  husband  was  spend- 
ing his  time.  He  was  hanging  around  some 
all-night  diner,  buying  a  supper  he  couldn't 


I'r.  I'.iiil  l'ii|,iTn,<- 

afford  for  somi-  girl  at  one  of  tin;  firmi  y<\yan 
he  works.  Ralph  likes  aiiybody'h  company 
better  than  mine.  If  we  go  to  a  picnic  or 
br-aeh  party  it's  always  the  same— Ralph 
finds  somebody  else. 

"My  husband  and  \  sleep  in  the  bame 
bed,"  said  Alice,  "bul  for  months  I've  b*»en 
alone  in  the  bed.  Ralph's  back  is  turned,  bul 
he  isn't  asleep,  he'a-tcns*;  and  awake.  When 
he  does  fall  asleep  he  jerks  and  mutters. 
Sleeping  or  awake,  his  thoughts  are  a  thou- 
sand miles  away  and  with  some  other 
woman.  Often  I  almost  think  the  woman  in 
Ralph's  mind  is  there  in  the  bed,  lying  be- 
tween us.  Night  after  night  I  dream  about 
her — pretty  and  young  and  slender  and  not 
shapeless  from  childbearing  like  me. 

"No,  I  don't  mean  any  particular  woman," 
said  Alice  in  reply  to  a  question  from  the 
counselor.  "Ralph  hasn't  the  money  to  run 
off  with  another  woman  or  to  have  a  real 
affair,  if  you  can  call  that  a  comfort.  But 
lack  of  money  is  all  that's  keeping  him 
faithful — nothing  else.  He  thinks  I'm  fat 
and  sloppy  and  stupid.  I  can  read  it  in  his 
eyes. 

"Even  in  my  teens  I  was  big  and  clumsy,'- 
Alice  confided  dully.  "To  this  day  my 
mother,  who  is  tiny,  calls  me  The  Ox. 
Mamma  wanted  a  boy  when  I  was  born,  and 
she's  always  hated  and  made  fun  of  me. 
Papa  was  different  and  saw  that  I  had  nice 
clothes,  but  1  wasn't  ever  a  popular  girl. 
Ralph  is  just  the  opposite  of  me — he's  quick 
and  dark,  and  attractive;  people  are  always 
drawn  to  him  at  social  gatherings  while  I'm 
left  in  the  corner  twiddling  my  thumbs. 
Nobody,  including  Ralph,  of  course,  pays 
any  attention  to  me. 

"I  was  second  choice  with  Ralph,"  said 
Alice  when  questioned  about  the  courtship. 
"It's  only  accident  he  married  me.  He'd 
just  been  jilted  by  a  girl  named  Sally  when 
we  met  at  a  church  party.  I've  always  been 
sure  he  finally  asked  me  to  marry  him  to 
show  Sally  he  didn't  care  for  her,  although 
actually  he  still  did  care.  Mamma  told  me 
Ralph  was  as  good  a  chance  as  I'd  probably 
ever  get.  She  said  it  was  better  to  be  second 

choice  than  (Continued  on  Page  134) 


"While  I  was  pregnant,  he 
would  talk  with  other  women.'^ 


IN  the  house,  I  could  hear  dad's  typewriter 
clattering  like  an  old  washing  machine. 
He'd  used  that  typewriter'  for  the  last  four- 
teen years.  Oh,  it  wasn't  that  we  couldn't 
afford  a  new  one.  Dad  had  just  grown  at- 
tached to  it,  so  he  claimed.  He'd  been  a  pro- 
fessor here  at  the  university  for  that  same 
fourteen  years,  and  he  had  a  lot  of  funny 
ideas.  It  is  my  considered  opinion  that  all 
college  professors  have  funny  ideas. 

I  laid  the  wrench  down  and  stepped  back 
to  the  garage  door  to  get  a  look  at  what  I'd 


Somewhere  Ijeliinil, 
>  //„.  If  f,  11  „y „  p(,lic(,  s<iiiiiilr<l 

hill  it  mas  lost  in  the 
snarling  roar  of  niv  car. 


Mm 


been  doing.  My  hot  rod  was  beginning  to 
shape  up.  It  had  taken  me  a  long  time  to  get 
all  the  necessary  parts.  But  with  most  of  my 
allowance  and  what  I'd  earned  after  school 
working  for  Mr.  Hendricks  at  the  grocery 
store,  I  had  done  O.K.  One  more  day  until  I 
would  see  if  the  last  seven  months  of  sweat- 
ing it  out  over  a  dirty  engine  and  a  pile  of 
wrenches  was  going  to  pay  off.  And  if  it  did, 
then  I  would  show  that  Bud  Kramer. 

I  scowled,  just  thinking  about  him.  Bud 
Kramer  had  been   a   good  Joe  and  the 


natural  leader  of  our  gang  until  things 
started  coming  too  easy  for  him.  His  dad  had 
made  a  sudden  killing  in  oil  a  year  or  so  ago 
and  now  Bud  was  changed. 

Everybody  had  always  accepted  Bud  and 
whoever  he  happened  to  be  dating  as  the 
undisputed  leaders  of  our  social  life.  When 
he  finally  got  around  to  starting  the  hot-rod 
craze,  it  spread  like  measles.  Everybody  in 
the  crowd,  including  the  girls,  read  car  mag- 
azines, talked  cars,  and  spent  hours  in 
dusty  family  garages  trying  to  turn  a  twenty- 


five-mph  Model  A  into  something  that  would 
wind  up  along  the  highway  at  better  than 
one  hundred.  But  so  far,  nobody  had  suc- 
ceeded very  well. 

Two  more  header  bolts  to  go.  Darn,  but  I 
felt  tired.  I  would  have  to  wait  till  tomorrow 
to  put  the  carburetor  on.  Besides,  my  watch 
said  seven-ten,  and  I  had  a  date  at  eight.  Just 
about  time  to  get  cleaned  up.  But  tomorrow 
was  the  day.  The  day  when  Bud  Kramer  and 
I  would  lock  horns.  I  put  the  wrench  down 

and  stood  back.  (CotUinued  on  Page  148) 


ILLUSTRATED     BY     AX  DREW  LOOMIS 


~  By  Nora  O'Leary 

Pattern  Editor  of  the  Journal 

Pashions  come  and  fash- 
ions go,  but  our  "Gems"  go  on  forever. 
These  wonderful  wearable  clothes  are  the  clothes  you 
make  as  a  good  investment,  like  as  well  next  year  as 
this.  Start  with  a  wonderful  color — one  you  love  and 
one  that  becomes  you — then  work  around  it.  We 
started  with  geranium  shades:  deep  pink  wool  for  the 
suit,  pale  pink  silk  shantung  for  the  blouse.  To  top 
them  we  chose  a  blue-purple  fleece  in  a  i'  -Ign  as 
classic  as  they  come,  and  accented  it  with  geraniums 
close  to  the  neck.  Navy  imported  silk  makes  our  late- 
day  dress,  soft  blue  wool  is  a  "Gem"  for  afternoon. 
Keep  your  color  combinations  simple  but  gay,  your 
■designs  classic  but  becoming. 


Blouse  and  suit  skirl  make  a  pretty  costume  in  them- 
selves. We  added  a  belt  to  match.  The  skirt  would  also 
be  pretty  with  a  pink  cashmere  sweater  or  white  blouse. 


Blue-purple  fleece,  simply  tailored  in  a  three-button  coat  to 
wear  over  everything.  The  lapels  may  be  folded  high  around 
the  neck  or  worn  open.  Vogue  Design  No.  7784,  12  to  20. 


HAT  BY  JOHN  FREDERICS;  BAG  BY  RENEE  MONTAGUE 


LITTLE  GEM 

OF  A  WARDROBE 


1 

i 

■I 

MAUIA  MAHTKLl. 


Imported  hilk  laillo  with  a  <Jccoralive  woven  (Je^lgl|  iln 
makes  an  elegant  lale-day  dress.  The  classic  top  has  a  slif^ht  full- 
ness from  under  the  bustline.  Vogue  Design  No.  7924,  12  to  20 


SPRAY  TIN  BY  A.  A.  SUTAIN 


Every  suit  should  have  at  least  one  wonderful  detail  .  .  .  this  one  boasts  a  very 
special  sleeve  and  front  closing.  .  .  .  pleated  skirt.  The  blouse  (part  of  the  pattern) 
is  designed  to  show  as  an  over-collar  and  cuffs.  Vogue  Design  No.  723,  12  to  20. 


Back  and  4>ther  Views  and  Prices  are  on  PaaEe  I40 

Buy  Vogue  Patterns  at  the  store  which  sells  them  in  your  city.  Or  or<ler  hy  mail,  enclosing  check  or 
money  order,*  from  Vogue  Pattern  Service,  Putnam  Ave.,  Greenwich,  Conn.;  in  Canada  from  198 
Spadina  Ave.,  Toronto,  Ont.  Some  prices  slightly  higher  in  Canada.  (*Conn.  resiilents  please  add  sales  tax.) 


It  will  never  be  a  question  of  what  to  wear — any  day,  all  day — if 
you  have  a  pretty  dress  like  this  in  vour  closet.  Collar,  sleeve 
bands  are  satin.  "Easy-to-Make"  Vogue  Design  No.  7925, 12  to  20. 


54 


SWEATER  EASHIONS 


1  t 


The  sweater  that  makes  a  costume  is  a 
top  fashion  today — colors  heavenly, 

variety  without  end.  It  has  a  quality 
look  and  custom-order  touch,  at 
any  price  you  like.  Sweaters  are 
a  forever-fashion,  the  most  adaptable 

one  that  exists,  good  for  a  lifetime. 
Time  to  wear  them — morning  to  night, 
now  and  twelve  months  a  year. 

|{>  WiLHELA  CUSHMAN 
Ftishifin  Etiitor  of  the  Journal 


Short  ribbed  angora  j| 
sweater  by  Jeanne 
Campbell.  Tie-print 
rayon  by  Toni  Owen. 


Shadow-striped  pale  gray  sweaters,  with  slim  silk  tussah 
skirt,  by  Stella  Sloat.  Necklace  by  Nettie  Rosenstein. 

Sweater  top  of  wool  jersey  with  tweed  collar  and  cuffs 
is  worn  with  matching  tweed  skirt,  by  Berenice  Ulman. 


I  -  1 


Iiivariahl>  our  <>l' t  he  Im-sI 
COStiiiiH'  skirls  \<Mi  ran 
OHM  is  II  .slim  ^i'a\  ilaiiiu  l. 
This  <HH'.  hy  Lilly  Dacln', 
is  Morii  with  a  iiialrhiii<; 
<-ashiii('r«'  (■ar(h<;aii  with 
hraccU-t  -l4'ii<'l  h  siturves. 


Newest  cashmere  is  a  cape  with  a  matching  pull-over 
worn  Mith  tweeds  and  alligator  belt,  by  Ben  King. 


WII.IIKI.A  ClfHIIMAN 


c 


Evening  in  cashmere — 
pale  sweater,  matching 
beige  fan-pleated  chiffon 
skirt,  by  Grace  Stehli. 


Right:  Tie-silk  blouse, 
gabardine  skirt,  and  a 
dyed-to-match  sweater, 
bound  ^^ith  the  print  of 
blouse,  by  John  Miller. 


I  iaHliioii  ot  ca-liiiM  ii  .mil  <  1 1 i lloi i  —  ILn ■  h  -ri  <| 
Mw«-alcr.  pleated  chifloii  |>\  KaiHsa  Ma»k<  l. 


beige  tweed  costume 

— one  of  the  most  iiiiportuiit  fashions  of 
the  year.  The  jaeket  shows  a  new  eiirve,  the 
beige  silk  blouse  is  trimmed  with  tweed,  by 
Larr>-  Aldrieh.  Beifje  hat  is  hv  Braa"aar<l. 


-SUIT 


from 

i 

now  on 


broadcloth  with  white  linen 

Fashion  of  the  slim  silhouette  with  new  linen  overblouse  by  Myna.  Straw 
toque  by  Mr.  Alf.  You  can  wear  it  with  an  evening  sweater  or  a  chiffon  blouse. 

year-round  wool  suit 

Double-breasted,  lightweight  wool  in  charcoal  gray,  with  linen  collar,  by 
Alvin  Handniacher.  Any-season  fashion,  with  white  hat  by  Gladys  &  Belle. 


jjy  caSHMAN 


57 


nubby-tweed  cardigan  suit 

The  texrure  of  ,h.  blark-and-white-and-frray  tweed,  the  «traightne«s  of  the  jaeket,  the  slh„ 
skirl,  the  ,,olka-<Iol  silk  Mouse  make  .  his  st.it  a  fashion  s.ory  in  itself.  The  jaeket  is  lined  with  the 
H.lk  and  hound  with  knitle.l  wool,  hy  Berenic  e  I  hnan.  N\  ear  it  now  and  for  months  to  eome. 

By  RUTH  IMARY  PACKARD 


jersey  bolero 

\Non<lerful  Iin|,.  hlaek 
suit,  adaptable  (o  many 
oeeasions  heeause  the 
jaeket  is  reversible— jer- 
sey on  one  side,  faille  on 
the  other,  by  IMyna. 
Complete  as  a  eoslume 
with  rayon  faille  blouse. 


59 


Say  it  with  n  n 


WllKN  il  fzcls  In  lie  I 'chr  iiai  N .  I  hcf^iii  to  look  for  sigii^  of 
spring,  liroiiglil  iiji  in  (lie  couiiIin  as  I  was,  I  gel  a  new  li  i-' 
on  life  even  il  llie  days  an  n  I  loo  sunny  and  ihe  snow  rlrilt- 
hipli  in  llie  hill  road  and  you  si  ill  w  ear  your  fur  tippet  and  ear 
miills  when  you  go  oul  lo  lake  in  the  frozen  elothes  from 
clollii'siines  as  laut  as  a  wire  cahle. 

lOK  IT'S  ni\.  Vou  know  that  under  the  ground  frozen  as  ^ 
hard  as  a  concrete  wall  the  seeds  are  starting,  and  that  h(;fore 
long  the  days  will  glow  with  winter  sunshine  right  into  March. 
And  Fehruary  is  short  too.  Gets  tw  o  days  lopped  off  at  the  end. 
But  best  of  all,  there  is  fun  to  be  had  this  month.  The  big  holi- 
days are  over.  They  were  wonderful,  as  always.  But  we've  got 
two  great  birthdays  to  celebrate,  if  we  lean  to  celebrating, 
and  there's  that  old-fashioned  lioliday,  Valentine's  Day. 

VALKN'i'iNK,  iiiK  i.ovKRS'  SAINT.  Eveu  If  the  winter  has 
been  long  and  never-ending,  or  seems  so,  we  can  have  a  lot  of 
fun,  and  the  valentine  business  is  coming  back.  Out  of  stvle^^ 
for  a  while,  it  is  on  the  beam  again.  And  big  and  little  can  all 
think  up  parties  and  surprises,  and  forget  the  gray  skies  and 
even  the  blizzard  and  make  a  pai  t\  w  ithoul  any  great  goings-on, 
such  as  Christmas  calls  for.  And  almost  before  you  know  it. 
there  will  be  music  in  the  air.  buds  on  the  forsythia  and  the 
early  robins  will  be  here.  And  lol  it's  spring! 

so  LET'S  LOOK  INTO  IT.  The  really  important  part  of  a  party 
is  the  food.  Popcorn  and  pickles  are  all  right  sometimes,  but 
when  it's  cold  we  want  to  sit  down  to  a  regular  meal,  and  the 
first  thing  is  a  soup  as  hot  as  the  hottest  cup  you  can  put  silver 
to.  My,  how  that  w  arms  a  body  up!  I  guess  you  know  about  that. 
We  are  all  fans,  for  sure.  Now  here's  something  to  consider. 
We  are  looking  for  a  dish  that  is  hearty,  that  catches  the 
eye  and  enchants  the  taste.  And  the  dish  we  dip  into,  one  that 
fulfills  our  desires  along  this  line,  is  (Continued  on  Page  144) 

By  AX'>'  BATrHKLHKR 


Radio's  Baby  Snooks  defies  eye  of  TV  camera.  It  s 
Fanny  Brice  dressed  as  the  irrepressible,  • 
miscbievous  little  girl  she  portrayed  so  well.  ^^^^^ 


Fanny  Brief,  radio's  Mlahy 
SnooliSf  sair  Niek  again — and 

this  timi*  told  Itim  good-hy 


FABIILOU 


By  NOMt3MAN  KATKOV 


CONCLUSION. 


"FifNNY  was  a  pure  character,  the  strongest 
h]4jcpAii  being  I've  ever  known,"  says  Everett 
Freeman,  successful  writer  and  motion-pic- 
ture-film producer.  "Had  Fanny  been  a 
man  she  must  be  president  of  the  Chase  Na- 
tional Bank. 

"She  taught  me  many  things.  She  could 
speak  only  in  truths.  Truth  is  often  shocking, 
but  Fanny  knew  no  other  way.  She  devastated 
some  of  the  most  sensitive  men  of  this  genera- 
tion with  the  things  she  said  in  their  presence. 

"To  Fanny,"  Freeman  says,  "I  was  a  com- 
bination of  friend,  son  and  pal.  I  was  with 
her  six  years,  writing  and  directing  Baby 


Snooks,  and  I  never  spent  a  worthless  or 
profitless  minute  with  her. 

"I  never  got  a  performance  from  her  during 
rehearsal,"  Freeman  says  of  the  Baby  Snooks 
show,  "and  I  never  knew  what  to  expect.  But 
she  never  disappointed  me  on  the  air.  She'd 
say,  'I  can't  do  a  show  until  it's  on  the  air,  kid. 
Don't  worry.' 

"She  couldn't  stop  me  from  worrying," 
Freeman  said,  "but  she  was  right  as  usual.  She 
knew  she'd  be  good  once  we  were  on  the  air." 

Jess  Oppenheimer,  who  was  for  many  years 
a  Baby  Snooks  writer,  and  now  produces  and 
writes  the  I  Love  Lucy  television  show,  said 


recently,  "It  wasn't  until  I  had  my  own  ch; 
dren  that  I  realized  how  good  she  was. 
three-year-old  is  just  like  Fanny  as  Baby  1 
Snooks.  She  had  kids  down  perfectly,  with  an  ' 
amazing  attention  to  detail." 

Freeman  insists  it  was  more  than  an  imita- 
tion of  a  child  which  made  Fanny  such  a  suc- 
cessful Baby  Snooks.  "While  she  was  on  the 
air,  she  was  Baby  Snooks.  And  for  an  hour  after 
the  show,  she  was  still  Baby  Snooks.  The 
Snooks  voice  disappeared,  of  course,  but  the 
Snooks  temperament,  thinking,  actions  were 
all  there.  She  was  at  her  sweetest,  and  I  loved 
Fanny  then  more  than  at  any  other  time." 


Copyright,  1953.  by  Frances  Stark  and  William  Brice.  The  complete  book  is  soon  to  be  published  by  Alfred  A.  Knopf,  Inc. 
Editorial  comments  and  captions  in  all  installments  were  prepared  and  written  by  the  editors. 


On  a  movie  set,  Grace  Moore  and  Fanny  talked 
of  times  Fanny  starred  for  Ziegfeld,  Miss  Moore 
for  Music  Box,  later  with  Metropolitan  Opera. 


Bluff  Ziegfeld  comic  W.  C.  Fields  (left)  greeted  Hanley 
Stafford,  the  Snooks-show  "Daddy,"  at  a  dinner  celebrating 
Fanny's  annual  return  to  air  on  the  Snooks  program. 


Billie  Burke  (left)  knew  Fanny  as  a  comedy  star  tor 
Flo  Ziegfeld,  Miss  Burke's  husband.  But  they  first 
played  together  in  the  M-G-M  film  Everybody  Sing. 


61 


shows  I  he  ^iii'^liii^.  (I  yin^,  ra/./i     and  ilrliaiil  al  I  i  I  iiilcs  ol  I  lir  niii|>|irl .  I'  a  liny  al  ways  iicriinl  an  aiiiliini  r.  I  lii-ii  Iim-iI  iin       I .  I'  iir  Imini  altn  a  xlmw  hIii-  lliuit^lil  likr  Siiioik 


FANNY 


Freeman  soon  learned  that  it  was  best  to 
level  with  Fanny  at  all  times.  When  she  ap- 
peared with  the  cast,  her  first  question  was  in- 
variably, "How's  it  look,  kid?" 

"Fanny,  I  think  1  let  you  down  this  week," 
Freeman  would  say,  if  he  thought  the  script 
a  stinker.  "Do  the  best  you  can,  will  you?" 

"You  know  I  will,  kid."  And  she  did.  But  if 
Freeman  or  anyone  gave  her  a  bum  steer  trying 
to  coddle  her  into  thinking  a  weak  script  was 
great  they  heard  about  it,  brother. 

Freeman  tried  to  make  Fanny's  weekly  radio 
chore  as  easy  as  possible. 

"The  deadly  period  of  my  life,"  says  Free- 
man, "came  between  (Continued  on  Page  156) 


WIDE  WORLD  PHOTOS 


Fanny  was  a  lifelong  friend  of  indefatigable  Sophie 
Tucker  (right).  Here  she  and  film  star  Robert  Taylor 
help  Sophie  celebrate  her  50th  birthday  anniversary. 


III40WN  ItUO- 


Funtiy  ulwuvH  Icurnivl  <i  lliirif;  pr<»|j<rrly 
bcfori-  saliri/iiiK  b('r<-  dirl  a  i.-imiic 
dance  niiinhcr  for  KvitvUkIy  Sine. 


Judy  Garland,  the  cliild  in  sailor  suit  who  then 
was  a  rising  star  for  M-G-M.  teamed  with  Fanny 
in  song-and-comedy  scene  from  Kverybody  Sing. 


\stride  a  tricycle,  in  girlish  dress,  slippers  and 
socks.  Baby  Snooks  (Fanny)  cavorts  with  her 
fellow  comedians  (Jracie  Allen  and  George  Burns. 


Fannv  and  her  grandchildren:  John  Brice,  7 
months;  Peter  Stark,  7;  Wendy  Stark.  \.  Photo- 
graj)h  taken  just  f  2  days  before  she  was  stricken. 


INTERNATIONAL  NEWS  SERVICE 


62 


LOMBARD'S  HOUSE  fry  EDWARD  HOPPER 


1  Swapping  the  Days— The  Seasons  Go  Ahead 
Now  January  thaw  is  a  wonderful  thing. 

For  it's  usually  a  February  day — 

When  you  wake  in  the  morning  and  hear  a  robin  sing 

His  home-coming  roundelay. 

You  can  never  quite  believe  your  ears. 
And  see  Ike  icicles  shedding  tears, 
Wishful  thinking  unlocks  the  years — 
And  spring  is  on  the  way. 

2  Thought  that  just  came  to  me— to  remind  you  that 
salt  should  be  on  your  mind,  and  in  whatever  you  are 
making.  Don't  forget  that  all  sweet  dishes  need  salt, 
and  no  chocolate  creation  is  worth  its  salt  if  the  salt  is 
left  out.  There,  I  have  that  off  my  chest. 

3  A  little  dry  mustard  rubbed  on  the  ham  that's  to  be 
baked  is  a  gesture  that  ham  eaters  don't  forget. 

4  Pining  for  another  bit  to  add  to  the  bites  on  the 
hors-d'oeuvre  tray?  Think  of  this:  Cut  bacon  slices  into 
two  parts,  lengthwise.  Use  the  scissors.  Wrap  long 
narrow  saltines  or  soda  crackers  in  the  strips— make  a 
cross.  Broil  until  the  bacon  is  crisp.  Everybody  happy? 
You  said  it. 

5  Here's  another  help  for  mother:  Make  a  chicken 
fricassee,  which  is  an  undressed  chicken  right  out  in  the 
open.  Season  with  salt,  pepper  and  a  little  oregano,  and 
add  cream  to'  make  everything  hunky-dory.  At  the 
last  add  '  2  cup  grated  Parmesan  cheese.  Serve  very 
hot  with  small  hot  biscuits  all  round.  Have  currant 
jelly.  Eat  hearty. 

6  A  sweet-potato  puree  is  wonder-working  with  boiled, 
baked  or  fried  ham.  Mash  and  beat  the  cooked  pota- 
toes until  smooth.  Beat  in  2  or  3  tablespoons  of  butter, 
2  of  sugar,  and  a  little  cinnamon,  nutmeg  and  ginger. 
Add  about  H  cup  cream.  Beat  and  beat.  Put  in  a 
casserole  and  bake  about  30  minutes  at  350°  F. 

7  Sausages  a  la  Bay:  Oh,  well,  even  if  I  did  name  them 
thus,  don't  hold  it  against  me.  But  what?  To  each  link 
of  sausage  attach  a  bay  leaf.  Fry  or  bake  as  you  always 
do.  Drain  on  paper  towels.  Remove  the  bay  leaves. 
And  you'll  be  surprised.  I  was.  Hence  this  one  to  you. 

8  Here  is  a  dessert  which  we  call  a  California  Special. 
You  may  call  it  what  you  will.  It's  a  pretty  special 
number,  whatever  its  name.  To  make  it  you  will  need 
some  canned  peach  halves.  And  allow  two  halves  to  a 
customer.  Whip  some  heavy  cream  and  add  to  it  some 
crumbled  macaroons  and  a  few  dried  figs,  cut  fine.  Fill 
the  peach  halves  with  the  cream.  Top  each  with  a 
walnut  half. 

9  Add  a  few  coarsely  chopped  walnuts  to  a  cheese 
spread  for  crackers  or  potato  chips.  Makes  a  nice  tex- 
ture change. 

10  A  good  filling  for  an  omelet  is  done  with  asparagus 
tips  and  hollandaise  sauce.  These  omelets  should  be 
filled  before  taking  them  from  the  pan.  Have  your 
platter  and  plates  very  hot.  And  for  garnishes  you 
might  consider  t  ipe  olives  and  water  cress. 


IJ>  A  soup  to  boast  about  and  to  boost,  also,  is  the 
cream  of  avocado.  You  may  buy  this  elegant  soup  in 
cans,  very  new.  Serve  it  from  (if  you  have  it)  a  tureen. 
Tureens  and  chafing  dishes  are  back  in  style,  you  know. 
And  high  time,  if  you  ask  me. 

20  This  is  a  three-decker  recipe,  so  get  settled  and 
harken  to  me.  You  put  into  the  chafing  dish  or  a  large 
saucepan  J4  pound  butter  or  margarine.  Chop  fine  2 
small  or  1  large  onion  and  fry  in  the  butter.  Not  too 
brown.  Mix  2  tablespoons  curry  powder  with  3  table- 
spoons flour  and  stir  into  the  butter  until  smooth. 
This  mixture  is  what  is  known  as  the  roux. 


II  A  substantial  salad— for  Sunday  night  supper— is 
made  like  this:  Drain  2  cans  sardines  and  cut  into 
small  pieces.  There  should  be  about  a  cupful.  Combine 
with  1  cup  diced  cooked  or  canned  beets,  2  apples, 
pared  and  diced,  '  ■)  cup  minced  celery,  2  medium 
onions,  chopped,  and  4  cooked  potatoes,  diced.  Have 
everything  well  chilled. 

\'£  Second  stanza:  Now  mix  together  ^-j  cup  thick 
commercial  sour  cream,  ]i  cup  mayonnaise  and  1 
tablespoon  vinegar.  Add  the  sardine  mixture.  Chill  1 
hour.  Serve  in  lettuce  cups  garnished  with  sliced  cooked 
beets  or  hard-cooked-egg  wedges. 

i;i  Don't  turn  up  your  nose  at  leftovers.  Do  right  by 
them.  Cook  some  quick-cooking  rice.  Make  a  good 
sauce  with  1  can  condensed  soup  (mushroom  is  good), 
and  yi  cup  milk.  Add  the  leftovers  (chicken,  ham, 
turkey  or  what  have  you)  cut  into  bite-size  pieces,  and 
diced  pimiento  or  what  have  you.  Turn  out  on  a  hot 
platter.  Surround  with  the  rice.  Garnish  with  parsley. 
A  main  dish  everyone  will  applaud.  It's  a  quickie  too. 

14  A  mild  mustard  sauce  is  wonderful  with  mackerel. 
And  to  get  the  mackerel  you  don't  have  to  go  fishing 
farther  away  than  the  first  shop  that  sells  the  frozen 
fish.  This  is  a  progressive  idea. 

15  February  turns  up  as  George  Washington's  birth- 
day month.  For  your  holiday  dinner  a  cherry  ice  cream 
is  the  appropriate  dessert.  You  may  buy  the  ice  cream. 
And  it  goes  beautifully  with  an  angel  cake. 

Itt  Or,  just  to  be  different,  you  might  serve  the  ice  cream 
in  a  chocolate-coconut  pie  shell.  Melt  together  2  squares 
chocolate  and  2  tablespoons  butter  or  margarine  over 
boiling  water.  Mix  2  tablespoons  hot  milk  and  %  cup 
confectioners'  sugar.  Add  to  the  chocolate.  Stir  well. 
Put  1 1 2  cups  shredded  coconut  through  the  food  chop- 
per. Add  to  the  chocolate.  Mix  well.  Spread  on  bottom 
and  sides  of  a  pie  plate.  Chill  until  firm. 

17  Don't  forget  griddle— or,  as  some  call  them,  pan— 
cakes  on  February  17th.  Why?  Because  that  is  Shrove 
Tuesday  and  it's  a  tradition  to  have  griddle  or  pan 
cakes  on  that  day,  always.  No  law  about  it.  Just  a 
tradition. 

IS  Answer  to  query:  "No,  Marie,  truffles  are  not 
grown  on  trees  or  bushes.  They  are  mushrooms  gone 
underground  and  brought  to  light  by  pigs  taught  to  do 
the  job.  By  the  way,  Marie,  have  you  a  dictionary?" 


21  2nd  deck:  Now  add  gradually  2  cups  rich  chicken 
broth  and  1  cup  light  cream.  Stir  constantly  until  all 
is  perfectly  smooth.  Cook  until  as  thick  as  a  fine  sauce. 
Turn  it  into  a  casserole.  Drain  well  2  cans  shrimp. 
Add  to  the  curried  sauce  in  the  casserole.  Cover  and 
cook  slowly  about  15  minutes.  This  does  it. 

22  2,rd  deck:  If  these  things  take  place  in  a  chafing 
dish,  you're  at  the  table.  If  in  a  casserole,  bring  it  to 
the  table.  Surround  with  bowls— little  ones— of  an 
assortment  of  curry  accompaniments  .  .  . 

23  .  .  .  such  as  diced  apple,  chopped  peanuts,  pine 
nuts,  chopped  hard-cooked  eggs,  and  grated  coconut. 
Better  have  the  lot,  or  as  many  as  you  can.  There  are 
others.  Serve  the  curry  over  mounds  of  rice.  Have  all 
hot.  Hot.  Good  luck  to  you.  You  have  something  here, 
for  sure. 

24  You  know  what  a  Boula  is,  I  reckon.  A  can 
of  pea  soup  and  a  can  of  green-turtle  soup  are  put  to- 
gether in  a  deep  casserole.  Spread  the  top  with  whipped 
cream.  Set  under  the  broiler  to  heat  and  brown  the 
cream.  This  is  considered  the  king— or  queen — of  soups. 

25  This  is  the  time  of  year  when  a  blizzard  may 
stymie  the  milkman  making  his  accustomed  rounds. 
A  package  or  two  of  dry  skim  milk  is  a  mighty  handy 
thing  to  have  on  your  pantry  shelf  for  just  such  emer- 
gencies. 

2fi  One  of  the  finest  of  fine  things  is  a  boiled  capon. 
Get  one  weighing  from  6  to  8  pounds.  They're  the 
best.  And  one  thing  to  serve  with  such  a  bird  is  a  rich 
oyster  sauce.  My,  don't  oysters  taste  like  more  in 
February? 

27  Mix  a  little  (a  tablespoon  or  so)  quick -cooking 
tapioca  with  the  apples,  sugar  and  spices  next  time 
you  make  a  deep-dish  apple  pie.  Serve  the  pie  warm, 
with  cream— or  maybe  hard  sauce. 

2tt  Nineteen  fifty-three  is  started  on  its  way.  Though 
it  is  only  a  month  old,  we  note  the  changing  times. 
It's  a  good  time  to  renew  old  acquaintances  among  the 
books  and  music  we  used  to  know  and  love.  And  a 
good  time  to  look  ahead  to  those  gardening— not  to 
say  fishing— days.  I  can  hardly  wait  to  dig  some  bait 
and  beat  it  to  the  shore.  And  how  about  you?  Come 
along  and  have  fun  with  Your  Annie 


^    '>     I     i:    S  '        II     O     \1     K        I     O     I      K     N     \  I. 


HOT  SOUP  ¥  Mere  !Miiiin,M! 


ANNE  MARSHALL 
Director  Home  Kcimomics 
('arnfihell  Soup  Company 


BY 


They  just  naturally  go  together!  The  crispness  .  .  .  salti- 
ness .  .  .  crunchiness  of  crackers  and  the  fine  flavor — 
robust  or  delicate — of  hot  soup.  Try  serving  big  bowls  of 
satisfying  soup  with  a  tempting  assortment  of  crackers, 
cheese,  celery  and  some  red,  red  radishes,  icy  cold. 
"Mmm,  Good!"  the  family  il  say. 


TffyyVCiXb  ^^  poss.bie'- 

f%jwrw^  5  fAAKt  dish 

SOUP  AND  ^^'^''^    a^is  aelicious.  ea.y 
They-ll  cheer  ^vh  ^th..^^^^^  and  FP^ng  ^^^^  • 
comes  onlUe  table-  ••  cc 


CHICKEN  NOODLE  SOUP  pairs  well  with  golden,  crisp  crackers.  Traditional 
soup  of  our  hanly  pioru  iT  forefathers.  With  plenty  of  tender  chicken  and 
delicious  egg  noodles  in  rich  broth.  It  really  hits  the  spot. 

GREEN  PEA  SOUP  likes  crackers  that  are  salty.  This  soup  is  a  year-round 
favorite  and,  in  the  winter  months  especially,  mothers  welcome  its  high- 
energy  goodness.  That  rich  pea  flavor's  wonderful! 

VEGETABLE  BEEF  SOUP  and  crunchy  crackers  are  fine  together.  Here's 
another  iieartv  cold  weather  soup.  A  regular  "sfpiare  meal"'  soup — to  warm 
'em  up.  And  fill  'em  up  too!  Watch  the  bowls  come  back  for  more. 


w —  ^ 


,  can  0 'A  cups)  con 
,omato  soop 

"li^edded  sharp 
1  cop  heese 

y,  leaspoon  dry  ^ 

well  beoten 

^  ,.     ts  in  order 

Combine  'ngred'e' 

^ater  cress,  U  a 


'  &REEN  PEA 


OREEN  PEA 


VEGETABU 
BEEF 


ffutnl  vuoli  in'i'ps  41  full  Simp  shelf 


64 


I,   A    DIES'       HO    M    i:       .1    O    U    R    N   A  I, 


February,  195.) 


TAW  JAMESON 

(Contitiueii  from  Page  42) 


What  about  your  heart? 


PFRHAPS  no  Other  part  of  the  body  has 
been  studied  as  intensively  as  the  heart. 
Today  new  techniques  afe  being  developed 
to  reveal  more  and  more  facts  about  how 
the  human  heart -^i^fffts. 

A  great  deal  has  been  learned  about  the 
sources  of  energy  which  enable  the  heart 
to  perform  its  Herculean  task.  The  heart 
must  drive  five  to  ten  tons  of  blood  through 
the  arteries  and  veins  every  day — 365  days 
a  year — for  the  68  years  of  the  average  indi- 
vidual's lifetimewjn  this  period,  the  amount 
of  blood  pumped  may  reach  the  impressive 
total  of  250,000  tons.  Moreover,  the  heart 
must  function  continuously — resting  only 
a  fraction  of  a  second  between  beats. 

Studies  in  the  diagnosis  and  treatment 
of  heart  disease  have  also  led  to  improve- 
ments in  the  interpretation  of  heart  mur- 
murs, electrocardiograms,  and  X-ray  pho- 
tographs of  the  heart  and  blood  vessels.  In 
addition,  these  studies  have  brought  about 
a  better  understanding  of  the  action  of 
heart  drugs  so  that  they  may  now  be  used 
with  greater  benefitto  patients.  Many  other 
advances  have  also  helped  make  it  possible 
for  doctors  to  diagnose  and  treat  heart 
trouble  more  effectively  now  than  ever 
before. 

Encouraging  as  this  progress  has  been, 
the  fact  remains  that  heart  disease  is  still 
the  leading  cause  of  death.  It  is  wise  for 
everyone  to  take  certain  simple  precautions 
to  protect  the  heart  so  that  it  may  continue 
to  do  its  job  as  one  grows  older.  Here  are 
some  of  them: 

1.  Do  not  wait  for  the  appearance  of 
symptoms  that  may  indicate  heart  trou- 


ble— shortness  of  breath,  rapid  or  irregular 
heart  beat,  pain  in  the  chest — before  seeing 
a  doctor.  It  is  wiser  to  arrange  now — while 
you  are  feeling  well — to  have  a  thorough 
health  check-up.  Such  check-ups  often  re- 
veal heart  disorders  in  their  earliest  stages 
w  hen  the  chances  forcontrq) — and  possibly 
cure — are  best.  It  is  wise  to  have  a  complete 
health  examination  everv  year — or  as  often 
as  the  doctor  recommends. 

2.  Keep  your  weight  down.  Excess 
pounds  tax  both  the  heart  and  the  blood 
vessels.  Doctors  are  now  stressing  the  im- 
portance of  diet  in  the  treatment  of  various 
heart  and  blood  vessel  disorders.  For  ex- 
ample, restricted  diets  have  benefited  many 
patients. 

3.  Learn  to  take  things  in  your  stride. 

Avoid  hurry,  pressure  and  emotional  up- 
sets that  may  be  brought  about  by  over- 
work, too  much  and  too  sudden  physical 
exertion,  and  other  excesses.  These  can 
cause  your  heart  to  beat  faster  and  put  an 
extra  burden  on  your  circulation. 

Even  if  heart  disease  should  occur,  re- 
member that  most  people  who  have  it  can 
live  just  about  as  other  people  do — hur  at  a 
slower  pace.  In  fact,  when  patients  follow 
the  doctor's  advice  about  adequate  rest, 
weight  control,  and  the  avoidance  of  nerv- 
ous tension  and  strenuous  physical  exer- 
tion, the  outlook  is  reassuring. 

Doctors  can  now  say  to  many  heart 
patients:  "If  you  live  within  your  heart's 
limitations,  your  chances  for  a  happy  and 
comfortable  life  are  good." 


Please  mail  me  a  free 
copy  of  your  bookLet, 
253-J,    "Your  Heart." 


Name- 
Street— 
City  


their  tooling.  It  was  Friday  the  eighth  of 
November,  and  the  telegraph  man  down  at 
the  depot  had  got  news  of  an  armistice.  All 
the  schools  had  been  dismissed  that  morning 
and  there  was  talk  of  a  parade.  Even  when  it 
turned  out  the  news  was  false,  and  that  they 
were  still  fighting  on  the  Meuse— even  then, 
after  the  first  black  minutes,  the  whole  town's 
spirits  climbed  up  again.  Everybody  felt  the 
end  was  near. 

As  I  drove  the  car  out  of  College  Grounds 
I  could  feel  Aunt  Lou's  book  in  my  pocket. 
It  was  the  Volsunga  Saga.  We  would  begin 
with  this.  Aunt  Lou  had  said,  because  she 
believed  these  saga  folk— away  back— were 
my  ancestors.  "Look  at  you,"  she  said,  "just 
look.  It  may  be  that  Tate  is  an  echo  of  the 
Norse  God's  name,  Tlior."  I  did  not  care  who 
I  looked  like,  nor  where  my  name  came 
from,  just  so  she  would  teach  me. 

Chloe  saw  Peter  on  Market  Street.  I 
stopped  the  car  and  he  scrambled  in.  It  was 
crowded  driving,  downtown;  but  when  we 
got  to  the  emptier  streets  I  could  pay  atten- 
tion to  the  children. 

"Listen  at  this  one,"  Peter  said.  He 
grabbed  a  handful  of  Chloe's  yellow  hair  and 
turned  her  face  toward  him.  "I'm  going  to 
write  out  this  one.  I'm  going  to  make  a 
book." 

"Hoo-eee!"  Chloe  said.  "The  wind's 
smashing  back  my  eyelashes!  Oh,  today!" 
she  cried.  "  I  love  today ! " 

"Listen,"  Peter  said. 
"There  was  a  young  yel- 
low-eyed fighting  cat  who 
lived  by  himself  on  a 
prairie— he'd  been  left 
there  by  some  rather  care- 
less brothers  when  he  was 
little.  But  he  was  so  smart 
he'd  been  able  to  get  food 
and  all  and  grow  up.  Any- 
way, he  had  a  terrible  life 
because  he  kept  all  the  time  wishing  he  was 
a  tiger.  That's  it,  you  see!  At  the  end  he's 
going  to  meet  a  big  tiger  in  a  fight  and  find 
out  he  really  is  one  himself!  How  about 
that?  That's  wonderful,  ain't  it?" 

Chloe  snatched  up  a  rhododendron  leaf 
that  flicked  the  car  as  we  turned  into  Park 
Driveway.  She  was  smiling,  folding  her 
hands  over  the  leaf  as  people  fold  their  hands 
to  pray. 

Peter  looked  at  her.  "Oh,  you,"  he  said, 
"you  didn't  listen.  Isn't  that  great.  Taw? 
Wouldn't  you  like  to  read  all  about  it?" 

"I  would,"  I  said,  "if  you  was  to  put  it 
down  so  you  was  showing  me  the  cat,  and  let- 
ting me  find  out  about  it  all,  without  telling 
me  too  hard  like  you  was  Lord  God  Al- 
mighty." 

"But  I've  got  a  right  to  tell  you!"  Peter 
said.  "  I'm  making  this  special  cat— just  like 
I  was  God." 

Chloe  came  tumbling  out  of  her  rapture. 
She  leaned  her  head  to  Peter's  while  I  said, 
"I  bet  you  can  do  it,  make  this  cat." 

But  Peter  only  frowned.  Chloe  sighed. 
"Why'n't  you  make  your  stories  about  a 
prince?  And  a  princess." 

"Never  saw  one,"  Peter  said.  "And 
neither  did  you!  So  hush." 

came  out  of  Stoner  Park— and  it  was 
right  there  before  our  eyes.  The  big  moving 
van  in  front  of  the  Easleys'  house.  Colored 
men  were  carrying  out  furniture. 

"Hey,"  Chloe  said,  "he's  got  Miss 
Laura's  tea-party  table!"  She  stared  uneas- 
ily into  the  filled-up  van,  and  I  got  by  as 
quick  as  I  could, 

I  thought  Peter  might  say  something,  but 
he  didn't.  This  whole  thing  had  rolled  up 
like  some  kind  of  plot. 

"Oh— once  we're  there,"  Mrs.  Heyward 
had  said,  "she'll  love  it.  You  know  how 
children  are!" 

"I'm  not  sure  any  more,"  Mr.  Heyward 
had  answered,  "that  I  know  how  Chloe  is.  I 
used  to  believe  I  understood  her,  but  nowa- 
days           Kitty,  does  it  ever  seem  to  you 

that  nowadays,  around  us,  she  behaves  like 
a— well— not  quite  rightly?" 


What  is  defeat?  Nothing 
but  education,  nothing  but 
the  first  step  to  something 
better. 


WENDELL  PHILLIPS 


"Why,  I  think  Chloe  behaves  beauti- 
fully!" Mrs.  Heyward  had  said,  and  Mr. 
Heyward  nodded. 

"Too  beautifully,"  he  said.  "Like  some 
self-invited  visitor.  Overanxious  to  please. 
And  sort  of  .  .  .  secretive." 

At  that  Mrs.  Heyward  had  felt  of  his  brow 
and  taken  his  pulse,  pretending  to  be  wor- 
ried about  him.  Even  though  she  got  him  to 
smiling  at  himself  he  insisted  that  if  they 
were  moving  they  should  tell  Chloe  right 
away.  But  Mrs.  Heyward  somehow  proved 
it  would  be  kinder  to  put  it  off.  "Darling," 
she  said,  as  Mr.  Heyward  hesitated,  "we 
ought  to  pick  just  the  right  moment.  You 
leave  it  to  me!" 

So  Mr.  Heyward  had  taken  his  wife's 
fair-fleshed  face  between  his  hands  and  kissed 
her  lips  and  gone  ofi"  to  his  mills— and  now  I 
rounded  a  corner  a  little  too  fast,  to  get  out 
of  sight  of  the  van. 

"Why  are  they  leaving  their  house?" 
Chloe  asked. 

"  'Cause  your  mother's  going  to  paint  it," 
Peter  said. 

"She's  not,"  Chloe  said. 
"I  don't  mean  herself,  goofy!"  Peter 
laughed.  "I  mean  the  painters  are!" 
"Why?"  Chloe  asked. 
"On  account  of  your  mother's  so  stylish," 
Peter  said,  "and  she  wants  it  all  jim-dandy 
to  move  in." 

The  car  was  stopped 
now,  at  Peter's  corner, 
and  Chloe  let  him  crawl 
over  her  hardly  noticing, 
not  even  saying  good-by. 
She  was  looking  at  me. 
"You  just  want  to  fool 
me,"  she  said.  "You  saw 
the  truck  and  you  know 
v-   ;»  .  V    V       all  about  it,  but  you  just 
want  to  fool  me!"  Some- 
how I  felt  ashajned;  not  of  myself,  but  just 
ashamed. 

"I'll  never  fool  you,"  I  said,  "never  as 
long  as  I  live." 

"You  tried  to,"  Chloe  said.  And  when  we 
got  home  she  leaped  out  of  the  car  without 
looking  back. 

We  didn't  miss  her  till  lunch.  When  wc 
called  her  she  didn't  answer,  and  we  couldn't 
find  her.  I'd  thought  she  was  with  her 
mother.  But  it  turned  out  Mrs.  Heyward 
didn't  even  know  when  we  had  come  home. 
Because  she  had  got  that  package  in  the 
mail— the  one  from  Schirmer's,  New  York, 
that  brought  back  all  those  sheets  of  her 
music  she  had  hoped  they  would  publish. 
This  package  had  come  back  many  times  be- 
fore, from  other  places.  So  Mrs.  Heyward 
had  been  alone,  reading  the  typed  note  from 
Schirmer's,  reading  it  over  and  over  again. 

We  looked  outdoors  and  in  for  Chloe,  and 
telephoned  the  Mebanes.  They  hadn't  seen 
her.  The  red  cape  was  on  her  bed,  but  Chloe 
was  gone. 

"With  three  of  you  "  Mrs.  Heyward 

said.  "Three!  And  even  for  an  hour  I  can't 
feel  safe  about  her!  Oh— what  is  there  about 
her,  that  I  can  never  feel  a  moment's  peace?  " 
Mrs.  Heyward  was  almost  shouting. 

It  was  then  I  thought  of  the  "lap"— of  the 
windowed  alcove  in  the  attic.  It  had  a  door 
to  it,  so  it  could  have  been  another  servant's 
room,  like  mine.  This  place  was  nearly  filled 
up  by  a  huge  old  sofa,  and  one  day  I  had  come 
on  Chloe  there,  curled  down  in  the  hollow 
made  by  the  sofa's  broken  springs. 

"See,  Taw?"  she  had  said.  "This  house 
has  even  got  a  lap!" 

"What?"  I  said. 

"A  lap.  You  know— to  snuggle  in.  Where 
all  the  bad  things  you  have  go  away." 

"What  things?"  I  asked.  "You  got  no 
bad  things!" 

"Well— only  that  dream,"  Chloe  said. 
"  In  that  I  had  to  curl  up  tighter  and  tighter 
because  I  began  to  be  so  scared,  and  my 
bones  hurt  like  little  shells.  I  was  no  bigger 
than  a  snail,  a  ieency  snail !  I  thought  that 
way  it  wouldn't  notice  me." 

(Continued  on  Page  66) 


'•  ^  '>  I  I'  s  '     II  I)  \i   |.:     J  ((  I    K   \   \  I, 


\  ''  ^0  too  mm  /ram  (o  put  up  lvlC/'C  t/mey? 
^  I 

V 

A  skill  (li;i(  looks  roarsr? 
l(s  (M)loi-  iiMHhIird? 
^  i\  skill  (iia(  looks  liarsli  and  roii;r||V 


»  * 


Ynu  hate  to  sec  it    your  sicin 
losing  its  fresh,  look 


A  fascinating;  immediate  change 
can  come  over  your  face . . . 


You  can  do  sowelhins  to  clian' 


■  skin 


'ree  your  skin.  Dirt,  old  make-up  stick  in  pore- 
penings.  Fatigue,  wind,  dry  air  constantly  rob 
our  skin  of  its  precious  oil  and  moisture. 

There  is  an  exclusive  formulation  of  skin-help- 
ig  ingredients  in  Pond's  Cold  Cream.  As  you  use 
lis  famous  cream,  its  skin-helping  ingredients 
ork  together  on  your  skin  as  a  team — in  inter- 
ction.  And  you  get  the  good  effect  of  this  inter- 
ction  on  bntJi  sides  of  your  skin. 

On  the  outside,  embedded  dirt  is  lifted  from  pore- 
penings.  And,  at  the  same  time,  your  skin  is  given 
noothing  oil  and  moisture  it  needs. 

On  the  inside,  the  circulation  is  stimulated, 
ringing  up  color  in  your  skin,  helping  the  skin  to 
"pair  itself  and  refine  itself. 


You  can  feel  your  skin  responding 


Feel  a  wonderful  smoothness  come  to  your 
skin.  Eacli  night  give  your  face  this  special  oil- 
and-moisture  treatment — to  replace  the  continual 
thieving  of  your  skin's  freshness  and  softness  .  .  . 
to  cleanse  it  rightly,  deeply: 

Soft-cleanse — swirl  satin-smooth  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all 
over  your  face  and  throat  generously.  Swirl  the  cream  up 
from  your  throat  to  your  forehead.  Tissue  off  icell. 

Soft-rinse  quickly  with  more  skin-helping  Pond's  Cold 
Cream.  Tissue  oflf  lightly. 

This  double  Pond's  Creaming  replaces  smoothing 
oil  and  moisture  as  it  cleans  your  skin  immacu- 
lately. And  at  the  same  time,  it  livens  your  skin. 
As  you  use  this  famous  cleansing  cream  every  night, 
your  face  takes  on  a  lovely,  cared-for  look. 

(Note:  Thousands  find  in  the  morning  that  another  quick  Pond's 
Creaming  starts  their  day  with  a  delightful  new  freshness.) 


You  one  it  to  yourself  to  bring  out  your  beauty 


Look  your  loveliest  and  you  send  out  a  happy- 
hearted  confidence  to  all  who  see  you. 

You'll  see  the  wonder  of  this  skin-helping  cream 
— immediately — after  your  first  Pond  s  Creaming. 

Use  Pond's  Cold  Cream  every  night — mornings, 
too.  (Remember,  the  constant  loss  of  your  skin's 
natural  oil  and  moisture  goes  on  every  day.)  As  you 
use  Pond's,  you  will  delight  in  your  lovelier  skin — 
and  you  will  gain  an  attractive  new  self-confidence. 

So  many  women  are  discovering  the  amazing 
effect  of  the  inter-action  of  Pond's  Cold  Cream  on 
their  skins  that  more  women  use  Pond's  than  any 
other  face  cream  at  any  price. 

Go  to  your  favorite  face  cream  counter  and  get 
a  large  jar  of  Pond's  Cold  Cream  today. 


Jliatc/umiedd  of yPfc^^tc(.9^<^^'V — ■ivho  is  the  American  wife  of  the  great-great- 
grandson  of  Queen  Victoria  says:  "Pond's  Cold  Cream  is  my  one  essential  cream.  It  cleanses 
my  skin  beautifully — leaves  it  looking  fresh  and  glowing.  I  couldn't  do  ^mhout  it." 


LADIES'       HOMEJOURNAL  February,19. 


for  an  indoor  picnic 


Flavor  your  kitchen  barbecue  with  this  outdoorsy  sauce  made  with  French's  Worcestershire 

^  FRENCH'S  gives  the 
barbecue  sauce  ^yy\/^ 


BARBECUED  SPARERIBS 

Roast  3  lbs.  spareribs  in  very  hot  oven  (500°  F.)  for  10-15 
minutes.  Reduce  heat  to  moderate  325°  F.  Roast  XYi 
hours,  bcisting  every  15  minutes,  with  sauce  made  by 
mixing  1  cup  vinegar  and  3  tbsp.  each  of  lemon  juice, 
French's  Worcestershire  Sauce,  brown  sugar.  Serve  with: 

Frenchwise  Barbecue  Sauce 

1  tablespoons  butter  or  margarine  2  tablespoons  brown  sugar 

1  medi  urn  onion  minced  2  tablespoons  French's 
(or  crush  1  tablespoon  Prepared  Mustard 

French's  Onion  Flakes)  1  tablespoon  French's 
1  small  green  pepper  minced  Worcestershire  Sauce 

(or  crush  1  tablespoon  '  teaspoon  salt 

French's  Pepper  Flakes)  %  cup  ketchup 

Combine  ingredients  and  simmer  15  minutes. 


NEW!  Wonderful  Handbook  on  Outdoor  Barbecuing 

The  R.  T.  French  Co. 

4014  Mustard  St.,  Rochester  9,  N.  Y. 

Enclosed  is  10«  in  coin.  Please  send  me  Carol  French's 

new  barbecue  handbook,  filled  with  wonderful  barbecue 

recipes  and  illustrated  plans  on  how  to  build  outdoor  grills. 


iVame_ 


Address^ 
City  


.State- 


Highest  quality 
...costs  less 


(Continued  frot,.  Page  64) 

"It?"  I  said.  "What?" 

"The  thing.  Something  scary  in  the  dream. 
It  was  great  big  up  over  me.  It  was  up  there 
to  kill  me.  So  I  .squinched  and  squinched 
down.  But  now  all  I  have  to  do  is  tell  about 
it  here.  See?" 

When  I  remembered  this  I  ran  up  the 
third-floor  stairs,  with  Ora  puffing  behind 
me,  and  Nasty  and  Mrs.  Heyward  following. 
The  alcove  door  was  shut.  And  locked,  we 
found,  when  we  tried  it.  We  got  no  answer  to 
anything  we  said.  There  was  no  sound  at  all 
on  the  other  side  of  the  door.  Then  we  heard 
the  tiny  creak  of  a  sofa  spring. 

"  Darling ! "  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "  What  in 
the  world  Answer  us !  Open  the  door ! " 

There  was  nothing  but  silence  again. 

"Chloe— you  mustn't  do  this.  This  is  very 
naughty,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  but  there  was 
no  answer. 

"Chloe"— Mrs.  Heyward's  voice  was  ris- 
ing—"you're  a  bad  girl!  Come  out  at  once! 
Taw— get  this  thing  open!  Break  it!" 

"No— wo.'"  Chloe  said. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  her 
mother  said.  "What  is  it?" 

"I'm  not  going  to  live  in  Mr.  Easley's 
house,"  Chloe  said. 

Mrs.  Heyward  turned  on  me.  "You  inter- 
fering idiot !  What  did  you  tell  her?"  I  tried 
to  explain,  but,  "  You  could  have  handled  it ! " 
she  said.  "You  have  plenty  bf  sense  when 
you  wanl  to! " 

"Go  away,"  Chloe  said. 

"Don't  you  realize,"  her  mother  asked, 
"you're  going  to  have  to  come  out?" 

"Not  till  you've  moved,"  Chloe  said. 
"Then  I'll  slay  in  my  house." 

Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "If  you  don't  open 
that  door  you  won't  be  allowed  to  play  with 
Peter.  Nol  ever  again!"  Mrs.  Heyward's 
voice  shook.  She  had  clenched  her  hands  and 
Mr.  Heyward's  footsteps  were  on  the  stairs 
when  the  rusty  lock  grated  and  Chloe's  nose, 
sort  of  pinched-looking,  poked  out  of  the 
door. 

Mrs.  Heyward  whirled  to  face  her  husband. 
He  listened  while  she  told  him  how  terribly 
frightened  she  had  been,  how  Chloe  had  be- 
haved as  a  result  of  my  bungling  everything. 

"Of  course  it's  not  wholly  the  child's 
fault,"  she  said,  looking  at  me,  "but  she  was 
just  plain  willful." 

About  most  things  only  a  fool  would  lie  to 
Mr.  Heyward,  but  only  a  fool  would  have 
hoped  Mr.  Heyward  could  believe  the  truth 
I  wanted  to  tell  him  then.  Well.  I  can  quit,  I 
thought,  /  can  get  out  of  here. 

Nasty  and  Ora  had  somehow  managed  to 
get  downstairs— to  just  vanish— the  way 
black  people  have  learned  to  do  when  their 
truth  is  hopeless,  to  simply  go  round  the  im- 
possible things,  and  come  back,  and  go  on. 

At  her  father's  look  Chloe  drew  off  into  the 
alcove  and  was  about  to  close  the  door. 

"Stop!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "Jim— stop 
her!  She'll  turn  that  old  rusty  lock  again!" 

The  child  glanced  upstartled,  and,"Chloe," 
Mr.  Heyward  said  severely,  "you  come 
here." 

She  came,  putting  her  feet  down  uncer- 
tainly, and  halted  between  them.  With  her 
face  still  turned  up  she  shut  her  eyes,  and 
just  stood  there,  waiting  and  alone.  I  knew, 
then,  I  would  not  go  away. 

They  decided  she  should  be  put  straight  to 
bed— to  repent  and  "get  over  her  upset"— 
and  when  we  started  downstairs  she  slipped 
her  hand  in  mine.  But  she  could  not  make 
her  feet  go  forward. 

"Mr.  Heyward,"  I  said,  "let  her  stay 
with  you.  She  can't  go  off  alone  now." 

At  this,  could  you  have  heard  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward, you'd  have  thought  I  was  trying,  like 
some  traitor  in  the  house,  to  ruin  Chloe's  life 
by  spoiling  her.  Tears  were  glittering  in 
Mrs.  Heyward's  eyes  and  her  husband  said, 
"You're  tired,  dear— overwrought." 

"You  would  be  too,"  she  answered.  "You 
should  have  been  here." 

"Madam."  I  said,  "I  wish  he  had!"  And 
Mr.  Heyward  ordered  me  downstairs. 

I  hadn't  known  he  was  taking  the  seven- 
o'clock  train  to  Birmingham.  He  was  going 
to  look  at  a  mill,  maybe  to  buy  it.  At  quarter 
past  six  he  sent  for  me  in  the  library.  He  had 


just  come  out  of  Mrs.  Heyward's  bedrooi 
where  he'd  been  for  over  an  hour,  and  it  wi' 
like  some  part  of  her— not  a  perfume,  bt 
her  very  breath— came  with  him.  FresK 
dressed  as  he  was,  I  couldn't  look  at  him  d 
rectly. 

"Go  now,"  he  said,  "and  apologize  1 
Mrs.  Heyward." 
"No,  sir,"  I  said. 

Then  "Look  at  me."  he  said.  And  when' 
did,  I  could  see  the  special  innocence  thi 
was  part  of  him,  like  his  hard  good  busine 
brain.  I  was  young,  he  said,  and  with  youth 
know-it-all  could  believe  I  was  right  in  oj 
posing  Mrs.  Heyward  about  something  i 
which  she  was  experienced  and  I  was  no 
And  no  doubt  I'd  been  under  a  strain  to 
just  so  well  to  work  in  a  life  that  was  new  1 
me.  "But  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  "insolence  f 
my  wife  is  something  I  will  never  tolerat 
Go  and  tell  her  you  are  sorry  or  you  wr 
leave  this  house  before  I  do." 


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I 

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,  "fa 
lit 


Her  long  hair  was  down  over  her  dark  ve 
vet  robe  and  she  was  on  that  sofa  with  th' 
headpiece  but  no  arms  to  it.  She  set  her  todd 
glass  aside  and  looked  up  with  her  green  eye 
They  were  circled  and  she  was  still  pale. 

I  got  through  my  speech,  and  maybe  it  w£ 
being  pleased  to  see  me  humbled  that  cause* 
her  not  to  quarrel  with  how  I  picked  m 
words.  I  told  her  I  wished  I  could  take  bac 
the  way  I'd  spoken  to  her.  I  had  come  to  b 
sorry  for  it,  I  said,  and  I  hoped  she  woul 
keep  me.  c 
I  was  about  to  go  and  fetch  down  Mi' 
Heyward's  bag  when  she  said,  "Taw— jus 
remember  this.  Don't  meddle  about  my  child 
If  you  want  this  or  any  other  job  in  town-' 
you  mind  your  own  business!" 

At  her  dinner,  alone,  she  scarcely  ate.  AnC 
right  after,  while  I  cleared  off,  she  began  tha  ; 
walking  up  and  down,  pacing  here  and  pacint' 
there,  around  the  living  room.  She  had  go"  I*" 
out  the  note  from  Schirmer's  again,  with  tW  Pi- 
pages of  her  music,  and  soon  she  threw  thesil 
down  on  the  piano  where  she  had  the  de'i 
canter  of  brandy.  She  was  turning  over  th^^ 
pages,  letting  the  brandy  run  slow  down  he'  n 
throat,  staring  at  her  music.  I'te' 

"What's  the  matter  with  it?"  she  sai(j  ~ 
suddenly.  "Nothing.  Nothing!"  And  shrl 
swept  it  all  up  and  onto  the  piano  rack. 

When  she  began  to  play  it  was  the  flat 
tum-tum-tee-tum  sound  of  it  that  was  th(' 
wonder.  She  broke  off  and  began  again,  go 
ing  at  it  with  a  dash  and  running  up  som( 
kind  of  little  decorations  in  it.  For  a  minutt 
she  leaned  sideways,  listening.  Until  her  fisti 
doubled  and  made  a  whanging  crash  into  th( 
keys.  Then  she  bent  forward,  pushing  bad 
her  hair  with  both  hands;  and  her  eye  socket 
looked  deep,  and  her  face  ravaged,  inside  thtj 
locket  of  her  white  wrists. 

Soon  she  started  in  again.  It  was  all  so  reg 
ular,  half  reminding  you  of  lots  of  ordinarj 
tunes  but  not  quite  being  them.  And,  for  the 
first  while  you  heard  it,  you  thought  it  wafi 
only  this  usualness  that  gave  you  the  heavj 
feeling  and  made  you  wish  it  would  stop.  ButI 
soon  you  knew  there  was  something  else  you 
couldn't  bear,  some  dead-empty  center  in  it.i 
I  shut  the  door  going  through  the  pantry 
into  the  kitchen.  But  the  sound  spread  through 
the  house  and  came  even  into  the  bright  j 
kitchen.  ; 

As  a  rule  Nasty  would  leave  the  last  dish  orl 
two  for  me  to  wash  and  be  off  to  her  cabin. 
But  this  night  I  found  her,  with  her  shoulders- 
drawn  up,  in  a  chair  by  the  little  wood  stove. 

"It's  better,"  she  said  without  looking  at 
me,  "it's  better  we  gits  in  the  grand  house. 
Then  she  kin  take  it  out  bein'  grand." 

"This  is  a  big  rich  house,"  I  said. 

"May  be,"  Nasty  said.  "But  she  knows 
how  ever'body  feel  it  ain'  nothin'  but  a  lady\ 
kin  live  in  that  house — an  she's  goin'  to  show ' 
'em  who's  a  lady." 

Mrs.  Heyward  was  still  playing  and  I  won- 
dered that  Nasty  didn't  go  out  to  her  snug 
house.  But  when  I  saw  the  way  she  opened  i  > 
the  stove  to  look  in  at  the  live  fire  I  realized  it 
was  the  music  that  had  made  her  stay.  She 
was  not  idling,  she  was  waiting.  And  before 
I'd  heard  a  sound  she  swiveled  her  head  to 
watch  the  door  of  the  back  stairs.  When  J 
Chloe  came  through  it  Nasty  was  holding  out 
both  her  arms. 


I 


I.   A    I)    I  I 


II    I)    M  I 


I     <»     I      |(     N     \  I 


67 


Cliloc  sl(X)d  blinking  against  the  liKlil. 

I'm  not  scared,"  she  said.  "It's  just  it's 
ust  I  want  a  driniv  of  water." 

Then  slie  saw  Nasty  and  she  ran,  sliim- 
Hing.  and  pressed  iier  face  into  Nasty's 
losoni.  She  was  jjalhered  up  and  iier  bare  feel 
jvtc  wrapped  in  Nasi  y's  a|)ron  and  she  laid 
till,  being  rocked  gently.  When  she  turned 
ound  she  was  not  so  i)ale.  "  I  lello.  Taw,"  she 
aid. 

"Why — good  eiien'm'\"  I  said. 

Presently  she  said,  "Nasty  -who  horned 

'OU?" 

"The  bu/./.ards  laid  nie,"  Nasty  said,  "atu! 
In  sun  hatched  me." 

But  Chloe  kei)t  after  her.  "Tell  ine!" 

"Doni'  lol'  you,"  was  all  Nasty  would  say, 
and  she  began  to  rock  again. 

It  was  right  al)out  here,  I  think,  that  the 
nusic  ceased. 

"It  couldn't  be  yoii.  could  it.  Nasty?" 
Chloe  said.  "I  guess  it  never  could  be  you 
that  horned  me."  Nasty  slopped  rocking. 
"Because,"  Chloe  said,  and  she  i)ul  her  hand 
on  Nasty's  cheek,  "because  you're  so- 
so   " 

I    "Black,"  Nasty  said. 

"Chocolate."  Chloe  said.  "I  love  choco- 
•late!"  She  was  half  laughing,  kK)king  at  her 
,own  hand.  "I'm  vanilla." 

"And  you  know  who  horned  you,"  Nasty 
said. 

"Did  you  see  her  do  it?"  demanded 
Clik)e.  "Were  you  there?" 

"  What's  all  this?  "  said  Nasty.  "  What's  in 
your  head?' 

"Feelings,"  Chloe  said.  "It  feels  like 
you're  the  one."  She  put  her  arms  up  around 
Nasty's  neck.  "It  feels  just  like  I  must  have 
been  born  to  you." 

Since  there  was  nothing  we  could  have 
heard,  no  sound  at  all  from  the  velvet  slip- 
pers on  the  stairs,  we  must  have  just  felt  her 
there.  All  three  of  us  looked  up  at  once.  Mrs. 
Heyward  was  standing  in  the  doorway.  It 
seemed  a  long  lime  that  she  and  Nasty 
gazed  into  each  other's  eyes.  Then.  "Dar- 
ling," she  said,  "I  waked  you!  Oh — I  ought 
to  have  thought  of  that!" 

She  looked  natural  again.  She  was  smiling 
as  though  Chloe  were  some  large  pearl  she'd 
just  foimd.  She  came  on  as  if  she  would  pluck 


up  tins  jewel,  but  then,  making  a  liule  hIiow 
of  It,  slie  stopped.  She  would  nol  touch  the 
colored  woman  who  handled  every  dwh  Hhe 

ale  out  of. 

C  hloe  went  at  her  biddioK  and  the  wide 
sleeve  of  her  dark  robe  draped  on  Chloe 's 
shoulder  as  she  led  her  away. 

Nasty  siiook  down  the  stove.  And  wound 
tlie  clock.  "Well,"  she  said,  "take  care-a 
yo'sef,  while  l»y." 

I  wanted  to  grab  hold  other.  "You  don't 
mean  it."  I  said.  "You  don'l  want  to  Icavi- 
here.  Nasty." 

For  the  (irst  time  since  I'd  known  her  sin 
turned  iier  dark  face  s(|uare  to  iiune.  "I  an 
goin'  to  have  no  ciioice.  Not  now.  An'  yo 
knows  it.  So  I  got  to  scratch  me  up  a  go.M 
place.  I'm  the  Ik'sI  C(K)k  in  Ileyward." 

I  followed  her  onto  the  back  i)orch.  "  I'm, 
goin'  to  slay,"  I  said. 

In  the  half-light  Nasty  Uxiked  me  over. 
"Maybe,"  she  said.  "She  ain'goin'  to  easy 
give  ui)  bein'  wailed  on  by  a  white  man  that 
looks  the  way  you  does.  So  maytx;  you  kin 
do  it." 

It  was  in  that  late  and  sudden  spring,  in 
April,  1922,  thai  it  seemed  to  me  the  whole 
direction  of  things  at  the  Ileywards'  was 
changing.  Such  a  line  liglil-bodied  feeling 
came  on  me  that  sometimes  I  forgot  and 
whistled  out  loud  in  the  house.  Then  Made- 
moiselle Tainlon  would  come  slicking  her 
dry,  pinch-boltle  face  into  the  pantry  to 
glare  at  me.  But  I  didn't  mind  her  -  nor  any- 
thing—for Chloe,  who  had  lain  dying  at  deep 
of  winter,  was  nearly  well  again  and  I'eler' 
voice,  gone  from  our  house  these  jiast  tv\<) 
years,  now  sc|ueaked  or  croaked  from  up- 
stairs or  the  garden  -wherever  Chloe  was  — 
through  all  the  afterntKms.  And  Mrs.  Iley- 
ward -well,  Mrs.  Heyward  was  seven  hun- 
dred miles  away,  in  Palm  Beach. 

Mr.  Heyward  was  building  his  new  mills, 
for  artificial  silk,  but  he  came  home  early 
each  night  to  have  dinner  wilh  Chloe.  He 
watched  his  child,  this  stranger,  Chloe,  re- 
membering how  she  had  gone  from  him  even 
before  the  sickness  so  nearly  Icxjk  her  body 
out  of  his  house  into  a  grave.  He  talked  to 
her  never  thinking  how  he  had  not  so  much 
lost  as  forsaken  her,  slowly,  over  a  long  lime. 


By  MARCELENE  COX 


THE  foundation  of  a  house  belongs  to  the 
man,  the  rooms  to  the  woman  .  .  .  the 
winaows  to  the  children. 

"Why  did  you  call  me  so  soon,  mother? 
You  made  me  start  thinking  before  I  ended 
my  dream." 

Danger  ahead:  A  child's  curiosity  driven 
underground. 

Stopping  to  inquire  directions  around  the 
dinner  hour,  a  Midwestern  couple,  who  had 
found  Easterners  remote  and  withdrawn, 
were  surprised  to  be  invited  to  have  a  cup  of 
coffee.  On  the  way  inside  they  addressed  the 
young  son:  "Lived  here  long?"  "No,"  an- 
swered the  boy  promptly,  "we  just  moved 
up  from  Texas." 

A  child  who  has  been  read  to  will  always 
be  able  to  make  conversation.  Said  the  little 
girl  to  the  dinner  guest,  "I  think  lettuce  is 
very  soporific,  don't  you?" 

After  you  have  children,  the  economic  law 
reverses  to  Demand  and  Supply. 

Visitor  to  only  child :  "  What  are  you  mak- 
ing, John?"  John:  "Oh,  something  clever." 

First  lessons:  Kittens  and  bridegrooms 
learning  to  get  out  from  under  the  feet  of  a 
cooking  woman. 


The  old  horse  retires  to  the  pasture,  the 
man  of  sixty-five  to  the  porch,  his  wife  to  the 
living  room  . . .  after  the  dishes  are  put  away. 

"If  leaching  were  an  easy  profession," 
said  a  renowned  educator,  "much  of  the  joy 
would  go  out  of  it." 

Old  advice:  "The  parlor  should  have  light 
enough  from  at  least  one  window  to  read  a 
book." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  their  noise,"  said  a  busy 
mother,  her  back  yard  rainbow-splashed  wilh 
children's  snow  suits;  "remember,  the  pot 
always  becomes  silent  when  it  starts  to  boil 
over." 

Live  alone  and  like  it:  Our  beloved  collie. 
Sir  Cyrano,  plays  his  own  game:  grabbing  a 
tennis  ball,  he  runs  up  the  steep  roof  of  our 
root  cellar,  lets  the  ball  roll  down,  then  races 
it  for  the  catch. 

Two  persons  getting  divorced  can  divide 
everything  except  their  memories. 

Daughter  speaking:  "  I'm  sure  you'll  enjoy 
the  show,  mother;  of  course  we  didn't  like 
it." 

The  undefeated  and  unretired  champion: 
mother. 


Here's  real  coiiiilry  tlasur  tor  canned  beana 


Twice  as  tasty 

with  FRENCH'S  iVIustard 


Ready  in  tliirty  minutes!  And 
what  old-fashioned  flavor 
French's  golden  rich  Mustard 
gives  these  quick-do  baked 
beans.  You'll  find  French's 
flavors  better,  doesn't  fade 
out  in  cooking.  Blends 
better,  too,  because  it's 
smoother  and  creamier. 
No  wonder  good  cooks 
prefer  French's 
Mustard! 


FRENCHWISE  BAKED  BEANS 

cup  Frencti's  Onion  Flakes 
2  tabl3spoons  butter  or  margarine 
4  cups  canned  baked  beans 
2  tablespoons  French's  Prepared  Mustard 
2  peeled  or  1  cup  tomatoes 

1  teaspoon  salt 
2  tablespoons  brown  sugar 

Cook  onion  flakes  in  butter  over  low 
heat  until  soft.  Add  to  beans.  Stir  in 
mustard.  Put  half  the  beans  in  pot  or 
casserole.  Slice  half  the  tomato  on  top. 
Sprinkle  on  half  the  salt  and  sugar. 
Add  remaining  beans.  Top  with  to- 
mato, salt,  brown  sugar.  Bake  30  min- 
utes in  hot  oven  (400°  F.).  Serves  6. 


NEW  RECIPE  BOOKLET!  GET  YOUR  COPY! 


The  R.  T.  French  Co. 

1800  Mustard  St.,  Rochester  9,  N.  Y. 

Enclosed  is  10s  in  coin.  Please  send  me  "Seasoning  Makes 
the  DifTerence!" — your  new  32-page,  color  illustrated 
booklet. 


Name— 


Address- 


City_ 


68 


1,    V   I)    I    K  S 


If    O    M  K 


JOURNAL 


And  Colgate's  has  proved  conclusively  that  brush- 
ing teeth  right  after  eating  stops  tooth  decay 
best!  I n  fact ,  the  Colgate  way  stopped  more  decay 
for  more  people  than  ever  before  reported  in 
all  dentifrice  history! 


LATER — Thanks  to  Colgafe  Dental  Cream 


Brushing  Teeth  Right  After  Eating  with 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

STOPS 
BAD  BREATH 

CI  n  d 

STOPS  DECAY! 

Colgate's  instantly  stops  bad  breath  in  7  out  of  10 
cases  that  originate  in  the  mouth !  And  the  Colgate 
way  of  brushing  teeth  right  after  eating  is  the 
best  home  method  known  to  help  stop  tooth  decay ! 


COLGATE 

RIBBON  PeWTAU  ^ 


IT  CLEANS  YOUR  BREATH  WHILE  IT 
CLEANS  YOUR  TEETH! 


But  he  wanted  bad  to  get  back  close  to  her. 
And  he  was  no  fool,  and  Chloe  loved  him.  So 
I  thought  he  could  do  it.  I  waited  on  them  in 
those  mild  evenings  believing  that  he  would. 

About  this  time  it  seemed  like  the  town 
and  the  earth  together  heaved  and  stretched. 
Everything  everywhere  burst  out  growing. 
South  of  the  old  mills  the  new  ones  were  go- 
ing up,  and  an  electric  plant  for  both.  And 
down  at  the  corner  of  Main  and  Elm  the 
great  hole  of  red  earth  which  had  been  empty 
all  winter  was  full  of  men  and  machines. 
When  Mr.  Heyward  and  Mr.  Rains  and 
other  big  men  over  the  state  had  formed  the 
new  bank,  the  People's  Loan,  they'd  planned 
on  putting  up  a  high  office  building.  With 
the  '21  depression  they'd  held  back.  But  now, 
in  a  roar  of  riveting,  orange-painted  girders 
stabbed  up  farther  every  day. 

Chloe  was  shooting  up,  a  spindly  lily 
warming  herself  in  the  brightness  of  Peter's 
return.  But  she  was  wary,  not  unfolding  with 
a  rush  like  all  the  life  around  her,  for  she  had 
never  healed  of  the  blight  of  Peter's  leaving. 
He  had  gone  off  when  she  was  ten,  before  she 
could  reach  that  time  when  she  might  nat- 
urally have  taken  to  giggling  with  girls  and 
when  boys  would,  for  a  spell,  become  "hate- 
ful." Of  course  Chloe  was  kind  of  jailed  in 
by  all  those  private  lessons— for  languages 
and  swimming  and  riding  and  singing  and 
dancing— but  it  wasn't  only  that,  nor  even 
how  Mrs.  Heyward  began  teasing  Peter  and 
laugliing  at  him  for  the  bare-bones,  big- 
eared  look  that  had  suddenly  come  on  him. 
The  fact  was,  Peter  was  twelve.  He  had  to 
make  his  run  with  the  pack. 

Peter  and  Floyd  Thornton  were  turning 
cart  wheels  up  our  street  that  day  when 
Chloe  came  back  for  the  last  time  from  the 
old  house.  The  Rainses  had  bought  the 
place,  leaving  it  empty  for  two  years,  and 
sometimes  Chloe  would  vanish  and  I'd  have 
to  go  quick  and  get  her  before  everybody 
could  find  out  where  she  was  and  talk  to  her 
about  it.  I'd  drive— or  run— over  to  Mag- 
nolia Street  and  there  she'd  be,  just  sitting 
on  the  kitchen  steps  or  dangling  from  her  old 
swing  which  had  been  left  in  the  yard.  I 'd 
hold  out  my  hand,  and  with  never  a  word 
between  us  she'd  come  away.  But  when  they 
started  tearing  down  the  house  our  phone 
rang  one  day  and  it  was  the  foreman.  When 
I  got  over  there  the  bulldozer  was  drawn  up 
against  the  west  wall,  and  on  the  east  side 
of  the  house  was  Chloe.  Her  pink-socked  legs 
were  spraddled,  and  her  arms  pushed 
straight  out,  holding  upward  against  the 
brown  shingles.  She  looked  at  me  for  a  long 
time.  In  the  end  she  dropped  her  arms.  But 
coming  toward  me  she  turned,  and  stooped 
down,  and  picked  up  a  brick  that  had 
dropped  from  the  foundation  side.  The  whole 
working  crew  stood  back  silent  while  she 
tried  to  fit  the  brick  into  its  place.  And  no 
one  moved  when  all  at  once  she  took  the 
brick  in  both  hands  and  carried  it  away. 

Floyd  Thornton  was  going  on  fourteen 
and  his  cart  wheels  were  better  than  Peter's. 
But  Peter  was  lolloping  right  after  him  as 
best  he  could. 

When  Chloe  saw  them  she  ran,  stagger- 
ing, clasping  her  brick.  "Oh,  Peter,  Peter!" 
she  said. 

He  whirled  past  her,  unable  to  stop  him- 
self, but  Floyd  bounced  up,  light  and  easy, 
onto  his  feet.  Peter  crashed  into  him  and  fell 
down  on  the  sidewalk. 

Floyd,  looking  bored  and  lofty,  picked 
him  up.  "Meb,ol 'snout,"  Floyd  said.  "Hey, 
Meb— you  know  this  female  infant?  " 

He  didn't  exactly  deny  her.  "Oh,"  he 
said,  trying  to  copy  the  look  on  Floyd's 
face,  "hi,  gink." 

As  Chloe  stood  openmouthed,  Floyd  did 
a  back  flip.  "  'S 'matter?"  he  said  to  Peter. 
"  You  paralyzed?  C  'mon ! " 

When  Chloe  turned,  staring  at  him, 
"Better  close  the  trap,"  Floyd  said.  "  'S  too 
early  yet  for  flies."  This  was  evidently  the. 
funniest  thing  he'd  ever  heard,  for  it  sent  him 
into  a  screech  of  laughing  and  he  gave  Peter 
a  shove.  Peter  shoved  back  at  him,  and  then 
there  were  the  two  of  them,  running  off, 
laughing. 

Chloe's  eyes  filled,  and  I  picked  her  up, 
brick  and  all. 


When  I  set  her  down  on  our  porch  she  just 
stood  there.  I  watched  her  fingers,  whitened 
with  the  brick's  weight.  Presently— "What 
will  you  do  with  it?"  I  asked. 

On  a  heavy  breath  Chloe  said,  "Bury  it." 
She  turned  her  face,  far-eyed,  toward  the 
garden.  "  Down  under  roses,"  she  said. 

Much  later,  when  I  called  her  for  supper, 
she  came  walking  up  with  her  face  set. 
"Gink! "  she  said,  and  thought  awhile.  Then, 
"Stink."  she  sai9.  "Ol '  stinky  Peter! " 

For  a  long  time,  though,  she  tried  to  fol- 
low where  he  had  gone.  She  tagged  after  the 
gang  that  surrounded  him,  hanging  about 
on  the  outskirts.  I  was  glad  when  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward took  Chloe  early,  that  summer,  and  we 
began  traveling  all  around  to  White  Sulphur, 
and  Blowing  Rock,  and  Asheville. 

It  was  at  White  Sulphur  Mrs.  Heyward 
found  Mademoiselle.  She  was  with  a  North- 
ern family  whose  daughters  were  turning 
into  young  ladies,  and  one  day  she  said  some- 
thing to  Mrs.  Heyward  about  losing  her  job. 
Mrs.  He>ward  invited  her  for  a  drive  and 
questioned  her,  telling  how  hard-pressed  she 


♦  'W'  ♦  ♦  'v!^ 

COULD  YOU 
SAY  IT  WITTIER? 

Edited  by  John  M.  Henry 


An  everyday  feat  of  magic  is  where 
a  wife  says  the  invisible  article  is 
right  there  in  front  of  you,  and  when 
she  points,  it  is.         senator  soaper 

— North  American  Newspaper  Alliance 

To  be  tactful,  lie  about  others  the 
way  you'd  like  to  have  'em  lie  about 

you.  L.  S.  McCANDLESS 

In  Craig,  Colo.,  Empire-Courier 

Visitor  to  obviously  mischievous  little 
boy:  "What  ore  you  going  to  be, 
Dennis,  if  the  neighbors  let  you  grow 

up?"  HANK  KETCHAM 

In  book  "Dennis  the  Menace"  published  by 
Henry  Holt  and  Company,  Inc.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 

"Heredity  determines  the  color  of 
eyes,  but  environment  lights  them 
up." 

In  Chattanooga,  Tenn.,  high-school  debate 

"Any  doubt  whether  there  is  intelli- 
gence on  the  moon  should  be  re- 
moved by  the  finding  that  It  throws 
back  many  of  the  radio  signals 
beamed  at  it." 

At  Texas  press  convention 


herself  was— to  bring  up  a  girl  in  a  town  that 
hadn't  a  decent  school  to  its  name. 

"Ah,  Madame,"  said  Mademoiselle,  "cliere 

Madame   "  She  sighed  and  looked  at 

Mrs.  Heyward  as  if  she  were  saying,  "Poor 
Queen!  I — the  last  faithful  Duchess — will 
share  your  burden,"  and  I  knew  it  was  time 
to  turn  the  car  around,  that  she  was  hired. 

Mr.  Heyward,  when  he  joined  us  on  his 
vacation,  didn't  want  her.  Chloe  was  pos- 
itively going  to  public  school  that  fall  and 

he  thought    "But  have  you  thought, 

darling?"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "It'll  be 
quite  a  change  for  Chloe.  She  may  have  to 
'adjust'  in  some  subjects.  Mademoiselle's  a 
teacher.  She  can  help  the  child!" 

Mademoiselle  was  always  busy  proving, 
especially  to  Mr.  Heyward,  how  Chloe 
couldn  t  properly  move  without  her.  She 
had  her  living  to  get  and  she  was  old.  And 
she  meant  no  harm,  for  next  to  those  coral 
beads  she  had,  with  the  middle  one  carved 
into  a  rose  that  held  up  the  world's  littlest 
diamond  for  a  dewdrop — next  to  those,  she 
loved  Chloe.  The  time  came  when  I  was  even 
thankful  for  her.  When  Chloe  got  sick  Ma- 
demoiselle turned  herself  into  a  hard-work- 
ing nurse.  It  may  be  this  was  only  to  keep 
out  a  real  trained  nurse  and  show,  once  and 
for  all.  that  she  was  some  use  to  Chloe.  But 
she  fought  ,a  good  hard  fight. 


February,  191)3 

At  first,  it  being  just  measles,  we  none  of 
us  worried.  Except  Mrs.  Heyward.  She  made 
a  great  fuss.  Doctor  Mebane  seemed  to  want 
to  keep  her  away  from  Chloe.  "Oh,  pooh!"  j 
Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "  Donald  just  loves  to  ' 
give  orders!"  She  spent  every  afternoon  by 
Chloe's  bed.  And  Chloe — so  listless  in  the 
mornings — would  sit  straight  up,  with  such 
a  show  of  talk  as  would  make  you  wonder 
could  she  really  be  sick.  She  listened  to  the 
reading  aloud  and  her  mother's  little  songs 
like  listening  was  a  ballet  dance  she  could  do. 

The  measles  rash  began  to  heal.  But  still 
every  night,  when  Doctor  Mebane  came  at 
suppertime,  Chloe's  temperature  was  way 
up.  The  evening  she  began  to  cough  and 
sniffle  he  looked  grim.  Three  days  later  she 
had  pneumonia.  The  high  fever  wouldn't 
break  and  she  was  delirious  sometimes. 

The  night  they  brought  the  oxygen  tank 
and  the  tent  Doctor  Mebane  left  Mr.  Hey- 
ward and  the  man  from  the  hospital  to  get 
it  all  out  of  the  car.  "Boiling  water.  Basin," 
he  said  to  me.  He  ran,  really  ran,  through 
the  hall  and  over  the  stairs.  There  was  water 
on  the  stove  and  I  got  up  quick  with  it. 

Chloe's  room  had  been  built  for  an  elegant 
boudoir,  to  be  lit  by  candles.  This  night  it 
was  white  with  electricity  and  Mademoiselle 
was  squinting  her  tired  eyes  over  the  trained 
nurse's  shoulder.  In  spite  of  Mademoiselle 
and  Mrs.  Heyward,  the  doctor  and  Mr. 
Heyward  had  got  in  the  nurse.  She  brought  i 
a  hypodermic  syringe  and  held  the  needle 
down  in  my  smoking  basin  while  Doctor 
Mebane  rolled  up  his  sleeves.  His  ear  was 
cocked  to  Chloe's  terrible  breathing,  and  his 
eye  was  on  Mrs.  Heyward.  She  stood  looking 
kind  of  naked  without  all  the  tints  of  rouge 
and  powder  she  usually  wore  on  her  face. 
Chloe  had  begun  a  crazy  babbling,  getting 
out  the  words  with  her  gasping,  but  all  at 
once,  when  her  mother  drew  near,  her  jaws 
locked  and  she  began  to  tremble.  Somehow 
I  knew  right  away  what  it  was.  But  Mrs. 
Heyward  didn't  seem  to  know — or  to  be 
able  to  hear  the  doctor  telling  her  to  leave. 

"Kitty   "  Doctor  Mebane  said,  but 

Mrs.  Heyward  was  wringing  her  hands.  She 
knelt  down  and  Chloe  shrank  away,  and 
"Get  up.  Get  out,"  Doctor  Mebane  said, 
and  Mrs.  Heyward 's  eyes  closed,  and  tears 
squeezed  out  of  their  corners.  She  tried  to 
gather  Chloe  to  her  and  the  gurgling  noise 
began  in  Chloe's  chest.  Doctor  Mebane 
yanked  at  Mrs.  Heyward 's  shoulders  and 
sweat  was  on  his  face.  "Stop,  Kitty!  Stop!" 
he  said,  lifting  her  up  while  she  still  held 
Chloe.  "This  amounts  to  murder!" 

Mrs.  Heyward 's  head  jerked  up  and  Chloe 
slipped  out  of  her  arms.  Her  dazed  eyes  with 
the  tears  under  them  showed  none  of  their 
green  color  but  looked  black,  like  the  cave 
of  her  open  mouth.  Her  silk  robe  and  the  two 
russet  braids  of  her  hair  shuddered  over  her 
bosom.  With  a  hack-saw  sound  Chloe  drew 
in  one  breath  and  Mrs.  Heyward 's  arm 
flung  up  across  her  eyes.  "Oh— save  her!" 
she  said,  weeping,  and  she  ran  Wind  into 
Mr.  Heyward  as  he  came  through  the  door. 

Doctor  mebane  stayed  all  night.  We  lit 
the  candles  because  it  was  still  dark  in  the 
dining  room  when  I  served  breakfast  to  him 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Heyward.  She  seemed 
calm,  though  I  hadn't  believed  such  a  big 
amount  of  brandy  as  she'd  taken  would  help 
her.  She  sat  drinking  coffee,  eating  nothing, 
not  speaking,  and  Doctor  Mebane  put  his 
hand  on  her  arm.  "Things  look  better,"  he 
said,  "and  Kitty— I'm  sorry." 

"Never  mind,  Donald,"  she  said  quietly. 
"  We  were  all  about  out  of  our  heads.  I  just 
want  to  forget  it.  You're  doing  a  good  job." 

For  a  long  time  she  would  scarcely  leave 
the  house.  She  tried  to  work  on  her  music, 
and  when  she  couldn't  she  took  to  writing 
letters  to  all  sorts  of  places— the  orphanage 
near  High  Point,  the  Berry  School  in  Geor- 
gia, and  even  the  school  for  colored  children 
at  Laurenburg.  She  sent  them  all  big  checks. 
She  said  she  did  it  for  gratitude— because  of 
her  own  child's  life.  Her  firm  flesh  began  to 
seem  just  a  little  pufi'y  sometimes,  and  no 
matter  how  careful  she'd  been  to  fix  her  face 
you'd  think,  once  in  a  while,  that  she  might 
be  gray  underneath. 

(Continued  on  Page  70) 


I    \   l>    I    K   S  •      MM  \i 


'•I      II     N     \  I 


(,'> 


Hold  any  cleansing  tissue  uillioiit  wet-strenglli  under  a  iiioderalelv 
runuiii"!  faueel.  W  alei-  uiak<  s  a  hole  inslanlK,  tissue  "dissolves." 


J  lold  a  \i  \%  "^1  1  il  I  K  mull  T  I  In-  1,1  111  I  I . 
uilliout  (earing. 


it  adu.ilK  liolils  iiairr 


FOR  HANDKERCHIEF  USE... 
BETTER  FOR  CREAM  REMOVAL... 
YET  SOFTER  THAN  EVER! 


Advances  in  the  scienee  of  papeiinaking 
have  made  it  possible!  In  one  cleansing  tissne 
— .siVAy  softness  irilli  slmiglh  that  absorbs  ivet- 
ness  ti'ithout  crumbling! 

The  New  Scotties  don't  go  to  pieces  under 
a  heavy  "blow"  or  a  man-sized  sneeze.  They 
wipe  away  the  heaviest  creams  without  eruni- 
bling  .  .  .  with  no  annoying  lint. 

Yet  with  all  this  new  "wet -strength,"  the 


New  Scotties  are  smithingly  soft  to  cold- 
sensitive  skin — so  gentle  for  even  a  toddler's 
cold  -reddene( I  nose. 

Get  New  Scotties  today.  Test  their 
strength — feel  their  softness— compare  their 
value.  You'll  see  wh>  more  families  are  cIkkis- 
ing  Scotties.  Manv  Scotties  boxes  without 
the  word  "New"  also  contain  "wet -strength" 
Scotties.  Another  great  Scott  j)aper  value. 


mm. 


5i  W^i-.-^ 


"SCOTTIES,"  REG.  U.S.  PAT.  OFF, 


BIG  FAMILY  BOX 

OR  HANDY  VANITY  SIZE 


70 


LADIES 


II    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


February,  1953  ! 


SUNNIEST  TREATS  FOR  WINTER  DAYS 
START  WITH  SUMMER-SWEET  CLING  PEACHES 


Betty  Crocker  Fiesta  Cake  Bake  a  two-layer  cake  with  either  Betty  Crocker  White  or 
Yellow  Cake  Mix.  Cool.  Drain  a  No.  2'  -j  can  cling  peach  slices.  Fill  and  top  cake  with 
peaches  and  1  cup  cream,  whipped.  Only  clings  from  California  give  you  such  tempting, 
such  luscious  peach  flavor! 


riihii'  '■  •iMiiTtliliiiiiifiri' 


Fiesta  Peach,  Mold  Prepare  i 

package  fruit-flavored  gelatin 
using  peach  syrup  for  part  of 
water.  Add  grated  rind  and 
juice  of  ^  2  lemon.  When  thick- 
ened stir  in  132  cups  of  canned 
cling  peach  slices.  Chill  in 
mold  until  firm.  Unmold.  Gar- 
nish with  cling  peach  slices 
and  whipped  cream.  Serves  6. 

•Betty  Crocker".  ■'Betty  Crocker  Cake  Mix" 
and  "Betty  Crocker  Ginger  Bread  Mix"  are 
retfistered  trademarks  of  General  Mills.  Inc. 


Fiesta  Peach  Salad  with  Miracle  whip  Dressing. 
Dissolve  3  2  package  strawberry-flavored  gelatin  in  '  2 
cup  boiling  water.  Add }  2  cup  syrup  from  canned  cling 
peaches  and  2  chopped  peach  halves.  Turn  into  small 
pan.  Chill.  Cut  into  14  diamonds.  Place  2  drained 
peach  halves  and  2  gelatin  diamonds  on  each  gar- 
nished salad  plate.  Top  with  Miracle  Whip.  Serves  7. 


Fiesta  Peach  Dessert 

Easiest,  sunniest  des- 
sert you  can  set  before 
family  or  guests— gold- 
en cling  peaches  from 
California  simply  spoon- 
ed from  the  can.  Espe- 
cially delightful  served 
with  cookies  you've 
made  at  home  with 
Betty  Crocker  Ginger 
Bread  Mix  or  served 
with  your  favorite  brand 
cookies  from  the  grocery 
store.  Clings  are  juicy- 
sweet  beauties,bursting 
with  fresh-peach  good- 
ness. Your  best  fruit  buy! 
Keep  several  thrifty 
cans  handy!  ^'.i';!-;iS'B„ard 


(Continued  from  Page  68) 

The  doctor,  and  Mr.  Heyward  too— much 
as  he  hated  to  be  without  her— tried  to  get 
her  to  go  away  and  rest.  But  Chloe  couldn't 
travel  and  Mrs.  Heyward  wouldn't  budge. 
Then  one  day,  the  same  day  Mrs.  Mebane 
came  to  tea,  Mrs.  Heyward  was  looking  at 
Vanity  Fair  magazine,  at  all  those  pictures 
of  the  Mellons  and  Mrs.  Vanderbilt  and 
those  viscounts  and  lords  at  Palm  Beach. 
Mrs.  Mebane  said,  "You've  got  to  get  some 
sun,  Kitty.  You  owe  it  to  Jim.  And  to  the 
rest  of  us,  for  that  matter.  Don't  you  know 
your  looks  were  a  Heyward  institution?" 

"  Were?"  said  Mrs.  Heyward. 

We  sent  her  trunk  ahead  and  I  drove  Mr. 
Heyward  over  to  Sanford  with  her  to  put 
her  on  the  Orange  Blossom  Special.  They'd 
said  their  real  good-bys  in  the  car,  but  when 
I  was  handing  her  bags  onto  the  train  I  heard 
his  words,  "   and  about  drinks,  sweet- 
heart, I'd  go  light.  Be  careful,"  he  said,  and 
bent  to  kiss  her  again.  Had  he  tried  to  slap 
her  she  might  have  sprung  off  the  way  she 
did  and  w'lirled  up,  angry,  into  the  vestibule. 
The  porter  slipped  in  past  her  with  the  step 
block  and  the  train  was  moving  while  she 
stood  washed  in  greenish  light,  with  her  lip 
bitten,  looking  lonely.  Mr.  Heyward  made 
the  great  effort  of  raising  his  arm.  All  at  once 
Mrs.  Heyward's  face  crumpled  and  she 
kissed  her  hand  to  him.  He  waved  his  hat, 
and  I  walked  away  quick.  I  think  maybe  I 
was  afraid  he  might  run  after  the  train. 

Chloe's  schoolmates,  girls  in  twos  and 
threes,  came  to  see  her.  They  sat  "yes- 
ma'aming"  Mademoiselle,  drinking  tea  and 
wanting,  no  doubt,  to  do  better  than  they 
did.  But  they'd  learned  years  ago  that  the 
Heywards'  house  was  no  place  for  young 
people  to  go  to  free  and  easy.  And  Chloe 
had  learned  so  much  that  she  could  carry 
off  these  visits.  She  knew  how  you  had  to 
behave  when  you  were  sought  after  and 
envied  and  admired  and  friendless. 

There  was  cold  March  rain  in  Peter's  hair 
when  he  brought  his  mother's  calf's-foot 
jelly  for  Chloe.  "Come  on— you're  in  time 
for  the  celebration."  1  said.  "She's  down- 
stairs this  afternoon  and  we're  just  goin'  to 
have  a  feast."  I  started  helping  him  out  of 
his  slicker,  talking  offhand,  as  if  he  came 
every  day. 

Chloe  was  in  by  the  library  fire.  "Gosh— 
are  you  ever  thin ! "  Peter  said. 

"Well— look  at  you."  Chloe  said,  and  I 
left  them  to  go  and  see  what  cook  would 
give  me  for  the  feast  I'd  advertised. 

That  little  fine  room,  the  library,  was  like 
the  heart  of  the  house,  the  way  it  was  so  rosy 
and  thick-shining  with  leather  books  and 
lamps.  The  Mebanes  had  to  phone  for  Peter 
at  dinnertime.  In  a  few  days  he  was  back. 
And  then  the  next  day,  there  he  was  again. 
It  just  happened  as  quietly  as  that. 

Between  school  and  baseball  games  Peter 
was  at  our  house,  talking  about  the  stories  he 
was  going  to  write,  telling  them  into  Chloe's 
ears,  seeking  a  remembered  spirit  and  her  re- 
membered love— seeking  himself.  And  he  was 
ready,  if  she  would  let  him,  to  give  back  to 
her  whatever  he  could  find.  He  did  this  as 
naturally  and  stubbornly  as  if  he  knew  what 
he  was  doing. 

For  a  while  Chloe  puzzled  me.  Even  a  wise 
man  couldn't  have  told  whether  it  was  some 
female  revenge  or  a  child's  fear  of  pain  that 
kept  her  blue  eyes  so  cool  when  she  looked  at 
Peter.  But  her  eyes  soon  changed.  Then  you 
could  see  her  unfolding  timidly,  basking,  in  a 
sort  of  secret  way.  That  was  the  good  time, 
in  April. 

Mademoiselle  didn't  like  fresh  air.  And  so, 
on  fine  days,  she  was  willing  to  "rest "  up  in 
her  room,  nibbling  aspirin  and  reading  books 
about  titled  people  making  love  and  noble 
sacrifices  on  yachts.  I  told  her  I'd  listen  for 
the  children.  And  I  did.  But  there  was  still 
not  enough  laughing,  still  not  the  old-days 
tone  I  was  listening  for  in  their  voices. 

Then  one  day— one  late  afternoon  when 
Peter  had  just  left  and  I  was  starting  down 
the  driveway  on  my  evening  off— Chloe 
came  skimming  up  out  of  the  garden  onto 
the  east  lawn.  For  a  minute  she  gazed  at  the 
soft  bright  slope.  Then  she  kicked  off  her 
slippers  and  dived  down,  full  length,  and 


ifltt 


rolled  away,  over  and  over,  stopping  now  | 
and  then  to  bury  her  face  and  hands  in  the  I 
grass.  j 
In  no  time  "Non  non!  You  catch  cold," 
Mademoiselle  was  yelling  from  her  window. 
"Tu  vas  te  tuer!"  she  cried.  "Entre  a  la 
maison!" 

Chloe  got  up.  But  she  didn't  hurry.  She] 
stretched  as  i  f  she 'd  j  ust  waked  or  risen  out  of  j 
some  pool,  and  the  slanting  light  picked  out  1 
the  grass  stains  on  her  pale  dress.  Then  she 
saw  me  and  came  walking  back,  laughing, 
spitting  out  bits  of  grass. 

"What's  happened?"  I  said. 

"Nothing,"  she  said,  "except  .  .  .  well'l 
sometimes,  like  now"— she  gazed  round  1 
her— "everything  looks  too  lovely  for  words. 
And  then  you  can't  believe  it,  how  the  spar- , 
row's  wing  can  break  and  the  little  beak 
pinch  in  the  dust  and  how  the  world  will  turn 
as  frozen  as  the  moon,  the  way  they  say — 
but  you  know  all  that,  so  you  have  to  do  this  | 
way— biting  and  tasting  everything — sort  o| 
taking  a  bath  in  it,  while  you  know  how  gooc  ^  ^ 

"That's  what  sensible  people  have  to  do,'' 
I  said.  Mademoiselle  was  hollering  some 
more,  so,  "Maybe,"  I  said,  "you'd  bettq 
get  in."  J 

Chloe  took  her  shoes  and  started  off.  Thei 
she  stopped.  "Taw— imagine  what.  I'm  go- 
ing to  a  high-school  party.  Peter  asked  me  t« 
the  Freshman  Barbecue.  Me  from  seventl  ' 
grade."  Her  face  stuck  up,  bright  and  peace- 
ful, as  she  went  into  the  house. 

While  I  walked  downtown  it  seemed  as  if 
the  lilacs— the  smell  of  them  in  the  air,  the  ^ 
color  of  them  in  the  sky,  and  the  green  bil- 
lows of  their  branches  everywhere  over 
fences— as  if  they'd  got  together  to  make 
some  sort  of  soft  ocean  and  I  was  swimming 
in  it.  I'd  come  almost  to  Ola-Mae  Hawkes', 
where  I  was  going,  when  I  saw  the  hat  in  the 
store  window.  It  was  all  pink  and  gold,  made 
of  bits  of  straw  with  crisp  roses  and  a  trailing 
ribbon,  and  first  thing  I  knew  I  was  in  the 
store,  buying  it.  I  ran  up  the  dark  stairs  to 
Ola-Mae's  room,  but  when  the  hat  was  sit- 
ting on  the  stiff  ridges  of  Ola  Mae's  marcel  I 
was  embarrassed.  Ola-Mae  stared  in  her 
speckled  mirror.  Her  broad  face  was  puzzled, 
kind  of  forlorn  and  comical-looking  under  the 
hat.  In  the  looking  glass  our  eyes  met,  and 
she  sighed  and  took  the  hat  off. 

"What  I'd  like  to  know,"  she  said,  "is  who 
it  is  you  bought  that  hat  for." 


Only  a  week  before  Mrs.  Heyward  was  due 
back  Mr.  Heyward  brought  us  Aunt  Lou, 
riding  in  the  ambulance  himself  and  helping 
the  men  and  me— it  took  all  of  us— to  heave 
her  upstairs  and  into  our  biggest  bed.  She'd 
been  found,  at  the  college,  blue-lipped  and 
alone,  with  the  spasm  shaking  her  body.  It 
was  angina  pectoris,  and  though  she  could 
only  whisper  she  told  them  they  should  not 
and  could  not  force  her  to  a  drawn-out  hos- 
pital death  for  which  she  could  not  pay.  She 
was  so  fierce  ordering  them  to  do  nothing,  to 
leave  her,  that  they  were  almost  afraid  to 
disobey  her.  But  somebody  phoned  to  Mr. 
Heyward  and  I  drove  him  out  lickety-split 
and  he  knelt  down  by  her  and  said  it  was 
time  she  came  home. 

She  said,  "To  what  home?  "  and  he  said  to 
her  home,  naturally,  to  his.  It  was  only  to 
humor  her,  he  said,  that  he  hadn't  made  her 
come  long  ago  and  he  was  going  to  quit  spoil- 
ing her  right  now.  She  still  glared  at  him  but 
she  put  her  hand  on  his  and  let  the  tears  of 
pain  come  and  keep  running  down  until 
Doctor  Mebane  got  there  and  gave  her  the 
medicine.  When  she  was  eased  she  gave  in  to 
her  weariness,  but  before  she  fell  asleep  she 
said  no.  it  wasn't  right,  it  couldn't  be.  "Your 
wife,"  she  said,  "Kitty  " 

"Nonsense!"  Mr.  Heyward  said.  "She'll 
be  glad  to  have  yoii." 

1  looked  at  him  carefully  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  he  believed  this. 

And  at  one  time,  for  a  while,  it  was  the 
truth.  Mrs.  Heyward  was  able  to  make  a 
bargain  by  having  Aunt  Lou.  She  balanced 
Aunt  Lou  off  against  the  Prince.  Prince 
Konrad  von  Abensperg  was  one  of  the  people 
Mrs.  Heyward  had  met  in  Palm  Beach  and 
she'd  invited  him  to  visit  us.  Mr.  Heyward 


\  IS  so  disai)i)<)iiitc'd  al  Hit-  idea  ol  liavinj; 

(  inpany  as  soon  as  lie  ^;()t  liis  wife  back  thai 

II-  was  short-ti'inpcri'd  ahoiil  it.  But  Mrs. 

Icyward  said  they  couldn't  be  alone  any- 
way, with  Aunt  Lou  there.  And  in  tiie  one 
week  they  had  before  tl)e  Prince  came  she 
went  ahead  cheerfully,  Kettinn  in  another 
maid,  and  she  was  wondi'rful  about  Autil 
Ion  and  the  trained  nurse  and  everytiiiiiK. 
(  was  lookiIl^^  line  a^ain    almost  as  hand- 

 e  as  when  I  lirst  saw  her    and  she  was 

brinuinu  this  Prince  home  like  a  prize  tor 
their  house.  She  kejjt  tellin^;  C'hloe  about 
liinr,  a  real  Prince  he  was,  a  sort  of  special 
present  she'd  Kot  hold  of  for  C'hloe.  In  the 
I  III!  Mr.  Ileyvvard  couldn't  help  lakinj^  pleas- 
III  r  in  her  pleasure.  He  ^ol  so  he  would  listen 
to  her  plans  for  a  bin  l^arty  "a  real  hall." 
she  said  and  he  even  stopped  saying  it  was 
impossible,  with  Aunt  Lou  so  sick,  and  thai 
he  lhou^;hl  it  odd,  in  spite  of  three  years  of 
l)eace,  to  entertain  a  former  (lerman  army 
ollicer  who  meant  nolhin^;  to  them. 

"Oh,  you're  lx)und  to  like  Konrad!"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said.  "lie's  the  real  thinn!  .lust 
wait  till  everybody  sees  him!" 

And  he  was  somelhinu  to  see.  Linhl-haired 
almost  to  whiteness  with  his  strong  bones 
showing;  just  enoii^;h  and  everything;  perfect 
everywhere  even  to  the  gold  hairs  that 
^;linted  on  the  backs  of  his  hands  when  he 
played  the  piano  the  way  he  did.  He  was 
thirty-eiKht  and  must  have  been  born  to 
some  woman,  but  I  had  the  feeling;  he  mi^^ht 
have  put  his  own  body  together,  just  last 
week,  maybe.  Poor  Chloe's  eyes  turned  big- 
ger as  soon  as  he  stepped  off  the  train  and 
when  she  stammered  over  his  name  and 
blushed  he  was  able  to  get  her  to  laughing. 
"Well,  listen,"  he  said.  " Froschl-von-Mar- 
coll-und-Carlstein!  This  name  my  unfortu- 
nate cousins  have.  Are  you  not  glad  they  do 
not  visit  you?"  He  did  not  laugh  much  him- 
self— then  or  ever-  but  neither  had  any  of 
the  other  princes  in  all  those  books  of  Chloe's. 

"  Lislen,"  Peter  said  patiently,  "they  aren't 
going  to  have  princes  any  more  in  Germany." 
He  was  sitting  on  our  front  steps  watch- 
ing Chloe  make  a  crown  of  buttercups. 
"Don't  you  read  the  papers?"  he  said. 
"There's  practically  no  such  thing  as  Princes 
any  more." 

"Peter."  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and  she 
leaned  out  of  her  window  brushing  her  hair, 
"there  are  princes— or  princesses—in  Eng- 
land, Spain,  Holland,  Norway,  Denmark, 
Sweden,  Greece,  Rumania  and  Yugoslavia." 
Then,  " Guten  Morten!"  she  said  and  swept 
up  her  hair  in  the  sunlight.  The  Prince  had 
come  outdoors  onto  the  steps. 


When  Mrs.  IK  yward\  rolx.-  dropijcd  irum 
one  shoul(k-r  she  didn't  notice  it.  She  Ix-^an 
lo  hum  and  the  Prince,  after  slujwing  by  IiIh 
gaze  that  he  appreciated  everything,  plucked 
up  the  flcjwer  crown  and  set  it  on  Chlix-'n 
head.  "We  have  muHic,"  he  Haid  and  Ixjwed 
and  held  out  his  arms  for  dancing.  For  a  min- 
ute Chloe  hung  back,  looking  uneaniiy  al 
Peter,  but  "Come,  sclmie  PrinceHH!"  the 
Prince  said,  and  she  went  waltzing  r)ff  over 
the  porch  with  her  long  hair  swinging  and 
her  eyes  dazzled. 

Just  before  Mrs.  Heyward  had  come  back 
there 'd  been  a  time  of  special  (|iiiel  in  the 
house.  That  was  while  Aunt  bni  was  lying, 
never  speaking,  shuddering  lo  breathe  s<jme- 
times,  shoaled,  up  in  Ihe  dim  West  Rrnjin. 
beached  on  the  old  walnut  bed.  At  first  we 
Ihought  she'fi  die  right  off.  Hut  in  a  week  she 
was  much  better,  and  then  l)elter  still,  till 
she  was  sitting  up  in  bed.  Then  she  began  lo 
fret  at  her  idleness.  So.  for  a  while.  Doctor 
Mebane  lei  her  write  some  every  day.  She 
gave  all  her  writing  lo  me,  all  her  writings 
and  her  liooks,  and  this  is  what  she  wrote  in 
the  Hey  wards'  house: 

My  eyes  were  open,  no  doubt,  and  it  was 
only  the  channeled  llutings  of  the  bed  canojjy 
I  saw,  and  the  sound  in  my  ears  was  surely 
Miss  Rowe's  snoring.  And  yet  lo  say  that  I 
dreamed,  or  that  somehow  I  gazed  down 
endless  corridors,  hearing  a  roar  of  sea,  and 
trying  to  reach  back  somewhere,  to  look  back 
and  know  the  nature  of  things,  or.  al  least, 
the  nature  of  Lucinda  Heyward  — to  say 
something  of  this  sort  would  better  describe 
the  moment  -  or  the  hour,  whichever  it 
was  -of  my  lying  in  this  bed  before  daylight. 

I  can  account  for  little,  it  seems.  Perhaps 
diseased  arteries  dull  the  wits.  I  am  not  cer- 
tain, for  instance,  what  has  happened  to 
James.  I  remember  him  untroubled,  to  be 
sure,  by  any  Intimations  of  Immortality,  but 
as  keen  and  accomplished  within  his  own 
wholesome  limits  as  anyone  could  be.  Per- 
haps elsewhere— in  the  world  of  men  and 
money  — he  is  still  so.  But  I  remember  that 
he  carried  his  fat  baby  daughter  on  his  arm 
with  careless  expertness.  I  remember  that 
whenever  he  repeated  her  three-year-old 
comments  he  did  it  with  simple  relish  and  as 
clear  an  understanding  for  what  the  child 
meant  to  say  as  for  what  she  was  able  to  say. 

Last  night  they  came  in  together  to  see  me. 
I  might  have  told  them  they  need  not,  in 
their  wordless  agreement  of  delicacy  toward 
me,  keep  off  the  subject  of  all  the  prepara- 
tions going  forward  for  the  great  party  to  be 


Here's  your  what-to-serve  and  how-to-make-it  handbook 
with  helpful  hints  when  you  are  hostess.  Menus — with 
more  than  12.5  recipes — for  luncheons,  dinner  parties, 
teas,  buffets.  Luscious  desserts  for  the  dessert-and-coffee 
party.  Snacks  for  television  nibbling.  Showers.  Weddine- 
reception  refreshments.  Send  25  cents  lo  the  Reference 
Library,  Ladies'  Home  Journal,  Philadelphia  5,  Penn- 
sylvania, for  your  copy  of  the  booklet  Hostess  Handbook 
OF  Party  Foods,  No.  2590.  Use  order  coupon  on  Page  162. 


Drink 
Nescafe 
Instant  Coffee 


_No  Other  Coffee, 
Instant  or  Ground, 
Gives  You  the 

RICHER  FLAVOR 
ofMlSCAFE! 


Nescafe 
is  Composed  of 
Ecjual  Fbrts  of  Pure  Coffee 
and  Added  Cati)ohydra+es- 
And  this 'Flavor-Seal"  keeps 
Nescafie  Deliciously  Fresh  and 
Full  of  Flavor -to  the 
Bottom  ofttie  Jar! 


Make  Mesca-fe' 
Your  Family  Coffee 

and  Save  Up  to 
25<t  a  pound 
Over  Ground  Coffee  1 


0  —Save  Even  AAore  On  the  l2oz.Jar! 


72 


L   A   D    T    E    S  '       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  19!>3 


At  the  First  Sign  of  a 


and  feel  better  fASf/ 


HERE'S  ADVICE  about  colds  that  we 
think  your  own  doctor  will  tell  you  is 
sound  and  effective. 

No  matter  how  you  try  to  stop  or 
shorten  a  cold,  the  first  thing  to  do— 
before  you  do  anything  else — is  to  take 
Bayer  Aspirin. 

You  should  do  this  because  a  cold  is 
almost  invariably  accompanied  by 
muscular  aches  and  pains — and  a  head- 
achy, feverish  feeling.  And  for  your 
own  good,  you  need  a  medication  that 
will  relieve  these  distressing  symptoms 
— relieve  them  quickly. 

One  reason  why  Bayer  Aspirin 
tablets  bring  you  this  relief — and  do 
it  with  amazing  speed — is  that  they 
start  disintegrating  almost  instantly. 


This  Bayer  way  of  feeling  better  fast 
— tested  and  proved  by  millions — is 
now  being  used  by  more  men,  women 
and  children  than  ever  before. 

So  don't  experiment  with  a  cold.  Use 
Bayer  Aspirin.  And  for  sore  throats 
due  to  colds,  gargle  three  times  daily 
with  3  Bayer  Aspirin  tablets  dissolved 
in  3 ::  of  a  glass  of  water.  When  you  buy, 
always  be  sure  to  ask  for  Bayer  Aspirin, 
not  just  for  "aspirin"  alone. 


New!  FLAVORED  Children's  Size  Bayer  Aspirin! 

Provides  all  the  advantages  for  which  genuine 
Bayer  Aspirin  is  famous — and  tastes  so  good,  chil- 
dren willingly  chew  it,  drink  it  dissolved  in  water 
or  mix  it  with  their  food.  Low  price  saves  you  mone^, 
too.  24  tablets  cost  only  15^. 


held  here.  The  telephone  rings  all  day  and 
even  Miss  Rowe  was  given  her  stack  of  invi- 
tations to  address  and  is  checking  accept- 
ances. To  dance  with  a  bona  fide  prince 
(though  his  title  has  been,  mainly  a  matter  of 
courtesy  since  the  Wittelsbachs  took  over 
Bavaria  in  the  twelfth  century),  to  dance 
with  a  prince  two  senators'  ladies  are 
journeying  from  Washington.  Cameron  Mor- 
rison's affection  for  James  coupled  with  his 
curiosity  has  brought  an  acceptance  from  the 
Governor's  Mansion  in  Raleigh.  Even  the 
Easleys  are  coming  back  from  their  Pine- 
hurst  cottage. 

Maybe,  at  last,  Elizabeth  Rains  will 
have  to  look  to  her  social  laurels  in  this 
town.  I  doubt  it,  however.  I  sometimes 
feel  that,  for  James'  sake,  I  ought  to  tell 
Kitty  that  Elizabeth  Rains  would  have 
invited  Miss  Lathem,  the  librarian,  and 
Colonel  Jefford's  daughter  who  now  does  the 
catering  at  the  country  club,  and  that  the 
point  is— she  would  have  wanted  them. 

While  Chloe  and  James  sat  by  me  the 
Prince  be^an  to  play  the  piano  downstairs. 
He  touched  softly.  The  floating  sound  was 
more  delicate  than  the  air  which,  heavy 
with  honeysuckle,  bore  it  up  to  us. 

"That  man,"  James  said,  "can  tell  you 
where  almost  any  object  in  anybody's  house 
came  from.  And  he  can  tell  you  its  market 
value— right  on  the  nose." 

"I  didn't  know  he  was  vulgar,"  I  said.^ 

"He  probably  isn't,"  James  said.  "He's 
not  interested  in  these  facts.  He  simply  lias 
that  combination  of  stored  memory  and  a 
phenomenal  market  sense — a  priceless  asset 
in  business.  And  yet  when  I  mentioned 
this  he  just  said,  'For  business  I  would  be 
unreliable.  No,'  he  said,  'I  would  be  always 
going  off  to  Scotland  to  shoot,  or  to  Biarritz, 
or  somewhere.'" 

James  scanned  my  face  for  the  astonish- 
ment I  must  feel.  So  I  told  how,  on  one  of  the 
Prince's  visits  to  me,  I  had  brought  myself 
to  speak  of  the  striking  resemblance  between 
Taw  and  him. 

"Oh  yes,"  he  had  said  carelessly,  "but 
the  boy  looks  more  lifelike,  as  you  must 
have  observed." 

I  was  disappointed  that  James  did  not 
reflect  on  this. 

He  was  absorbed  with  his  own  story  and 
shook  his  head,  continuing:  "And  when  I 
said  but  surely  at  times,  when  he'd  had  work 
to  do,  he  must  have  had  to  stay  put — well,  I 
hadn't  got'the  sentence  past  my  lips  before 
he  said,  '  I  have  avoided  work.'  And  then  he 
said — and  not  being  smart-aleck,  either — '  I 
.have  never  liked  it.' " 

Chloe  ran  off  to  fetch  her  new  dress  to 
show  it  to  me.  The  Prince's  music  slid 
through  a  few  random  measures,  growing 
louder,  and  then  into  the  opening  bars  of  a 
song.  Chloe  returned  and  spread  out  her 
smart  little  gingham  as  Kitty's  voice  rose  to 
us:  "  Calm  as  the  night,  deep  as  the  sea  " 

Chloe  fingered  her  dress.  "  It's  for  Friday," 
she  said.  James  got  out  of  his  chair.  "  I'm  go- 
ing to  wear  it  to  the  barbecue,"  Chloe  said. 
"Should  be  thy  love,"  sang  Kitty,  and  the 
Prince  softened  his  chords,  "for  me,"  Kitty 
sang.  James  walked  round  the  room. 

"Daddy,"  Chloe  said,  "I  wish  you'd  talk 
to  mummy.  I  can't  go  with  them  on  Friday. 
I've  got  to  go  to  the  barbecue.  He  asked  me 
weeks  ago.  Of  course  I  have  to  go,  don't  I?  " 

"Where?"  said  James. 

"With  Peter!"  Chloe  said. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  James,  and  turning  to  me, 
"  It  can't  be  good  for  you— does  the  music 
bother  you?" 

"No,"  I  said,  "but  since  it  does  you,  why 
don't  you  " 

"  Me?  "  said  James.  "  Why  should  it  bother 
me?" 

"Please,  daddy  "  Chloe  said  and,  see- 
ing her  face,  "Yes,  why — why  should  it?"  I 
said  qjaliciously. 

Now  the  passionate  yearning  of  Wagner's 
Liebestod  had  begun  to  ascend  the  air.  And 
now,  as  James  stood  still,  I,  too,  listened  si- 
lently while  Kitty's  voice  propelled  the  fate- 
ful aria's  soaring  weight.  Only  Chloe,  hang- 
ing on  to  her  barbecue  dress,  was  free  of  its 
attack.  "Daddy,"  Chloe  said,  "you  tell  her. 
She  says  they  can't  go  any  other  day  except 
Friday,  but  " 


"Who?  Go  where?"  said  James. 

The  crescendos  were  rising  mightily  a 
Chloe  gestured  downward.  "  They.  Mumhi' 
and  Konrad.  Driving  uj^  there  to  Roaring 
Gap.  Mummy  says  I  have  to  go  too  and  it'll 
be  a  lovely  day  for  me  to  remember  when 
I'm  grown  but  I'd  rather  remember  the  bar- 
becue! Oh,  it's  all  just  silly  when  I  kno\( 
they'd  rather  go  by  themselves,  anyway 
andi  " 

"Chloe!  Don't  talk  like  an  idiot!"  James 
cried  while  the  music  toppled  and  crashed. 
The  child  turned  pale. 

"Daddy,"  she  said,  "what  I  meant  was,  I 
meant"— she   floundered,   blushing  now,, 
while  the  tide  of  music  drained  away — "I 
meant  I  thought  it  was  silly  if  " 

"  You're  being  silly,"  James  said,  "about 
nothing,  it  seems.  What  is  all  this?  " 

"The  barbecue,"  Chloe  said.  "Don't  you 
see?  Oh— tell  mummy  not  to  go  to  Roaring 
Gap  then !  Or  just  tell  her  anything ! " 

"I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort ! "  said  James. 
"Why  should  I  interfere  with  your  mother's 
social  plans?  You  can  trust  her— as  I  do — to 
do  what's  right." 

For  a  second,  Chloe  stared  at  his  strained 

face.  "Al-lein,  ach  Hebe  "  said  Kitty's 

voice,  softly,  and  a  sob  broke  in  Chloe's 
throat  as  she  ran  from  the  room. 

At  once,  as  though  he  were  starting  out  of 
sleep,  James  made  for  the  door. 

"Better  wait  a  few  minutes,"  I  said.  "Any- 
thing you  do  right  now  will  be  more  of  an 
intrusion  than  a  comfort." 

James  stood,  uncertainly,  looking  over  my 
head. 

"James!"  I  said.  "Come  back  here. 
Where  have  you  gone  these  years?  " 
"What?"  he  said. 

"Sit  down,  boy,"  I  said.  "What's  hap- 
pened to  you?" 

"Oh  " — James'  gray  eyes  were  focusing  on 
mine  now  and  his  eyebrows  quirked  wryly — 
"the  usual  thing,  I  guess,"  he  said.  The 
absence  of  music  was  as  loud  in  the  room  as 
the  song  had  been.  James  lowered  himself 
into  a  chair.  "  I'm  getting  old,"  he  said,  and 
sighed. 

That  was  the  whole  of  Aunt  Lou's  writing 
at  the  Heywards'.  She  worsened  after  that 
evening  she  told  about,  and  Doctor  Mebane 
didn't  want  her  to  go  on.  He  would  have 
liked  her  in  the  hospital,  but  to  move  her 
now  would  be  dangerous,  he  said,  and  he  told 
Mrs.  Heyward  not  to  have  the  party.  But 
there  was  talk  that  maybe  even  a  lady  named 
Alice  Longworth  might  be  coming  with  the 
others  from  Washington  and  Mrs.  Heyward 
had  already  signed  for  the  bushels  of  fancy 
food  and  three  caterer's  men  to  be  sent  from 
a  place  in  New  York,  so  she  went  to  sit  on 
Aunt  Lou's  bed  and  exclaim  at  how  much 
better  Aunt  Lou  seemed  to  be.  The  tired  old 
lady  gave  her  no  argument,  and  "You 
know,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said  to  all  of  us,  "how 
these  people  with  hearts  often  live  and  live 
along  for  years!"  Mademoiselle  Tainton 
knew  of  some  old  marquise  who  had  suddenly 
got  well  when  her  family  gave  a  house  party 
in  the  castle  where  she'd  been  lying  in  bed 
for  ten  years.  Mademoiselle  was  having  to 
eat  by  herself  on  trays  these  days.  She  and 
Mrs.  Heyward  held  out  together,  and  I  was 
afraid  that  in  spite  of  Mr.  Heyward,  Doctor 
Mebane  might  quit  Aunt  Lou's  case.  But  all 
that  happened  was  Mrs.  Mebane's  sending  a 
sort  of  stiff  note  saying  she  and  the  doctor 
weren't  able  to  come  to  the  party. 

I  remember  the  day  at  lunch  when  Mr. 
Heyward  wouldn't  look  at  Chloe,  who,  sit- 
ting between  the  Prince  and  him,  was  hang- 
ing onto  his  words.  "It's  too  bad  about  Fri- 
day," he  had  said  to  his  wife.  "You'll  have  to 
go  through  those  records  with  our  tax  man. 
He'll  be  at  the  mill  Friday — or  shall  I  have 
him  come  here?" 

"Some  other  day  "  Mrs.  Heyward 

began,  but  "Impossible,  my  dear,"  Mr.  Hey- 
ward said,  and  at  his  tone  even  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward's  fork  stopped  halfway  to  her  mouth. 

"You  must"— Mr.  Heyward  turned  to- 
ward the  Prince — "you  must  forgive  Kitty 
this  once.  And  you  must  take  the  roadster. 
Some  of  the  many  friends,"  he  said,  looking 
at  h;,o  wife  again,  "that  the  Prince  has  made 
will  be  glad  to  go  with  him.  What  about . . . 


Because  no  other  pain  reliever  can  match  its  record  of  use  by 
millions  of  normal  people  without  ill  effect,  one  thing 
you  can  take  with  complete  confidence  is  genuine 


BAYER^ASPIRIN 


I  I 


II 


iiolhy  Syiiims?"  Tliis  was  the  name  of  I  lie 
(  I  tii'sl  poor  Kirl  tliiil  t'vcr  liiriu'd  flown 
I II  itI  of  well-to-do  yoiiiiK  iiu-ii  in  I  Icyward. 
I  he  I'riiici  'soycs  flicked  off  Mrs.  I  Icyward 
luic  lif  l(M)kcd  strainlil  al  her  husband. 
I  hank  you    sir,"  he  said.   "I  will  ask 

lilcoIK'." 

I  .oiUK  out  of  the  dining!  room  t'liloc  walked 
i^c  alon^^  beside  her  father,  but  sonie- 
iiiii',    maybe  his  thouuhls  of  what  he,  who 

I  (■<!  liais,  would  say  to  his  wife  when  their 
man  turned  out  not  evi-n  to  be  in  town 

.MM  lliinu  kept  Mr.  lleyward's  eyi's  turned 
,\.i\  from  his  daughter.  She  st(K)d  on  the 

II  (  h  while  he    l(H)kinK  slow  and  heavy 
imbed  into  his  car  and  drove  away  to  his 
nils.  'I'hen  she  went  to  call  I'eler. 

Mrs.  I  ley  ward  was  upstairs  most  of  thai 
iiiy,  lyiiiK  down  in  her  room  with  the  shades 
irawn.  The  I'rinci'  had  not  taki'ii  I)oroth\ 
lyinms  with  him.  He'd  asked  the  l^ainses' 
niy  daughter,  'IVss.  who  was  plain  as  a  tur- 
lip  and  richer  in  her  own  name  than  Mrs. 
leyward  was  in  hers,  and  Mrs.  lleyward 
lad  called  u])  the  masseuse  to  rub  her  back 
iiid  said  that  no  one  "No  one"  should 
lislurb  her. 
Sunday  was  the  day  befori'  the  i)arty. 

A  hen  Mademoiselle  had  ^oiie  to  early  Mass 

ihe  had  set  a  candle 
o  Saint  Somebody  to 

<cep  it  from  raininfi 

VIonday  ni^ht.  No 

■ijiint,  were  he  able  to 

!ix  tiiinj;s,  would  have 

had  the  heart  to  turn 

her  down.  The  skies 

were  as  clean  and  hish 

as  early   .lune  could 

make  them  and  showed 

pretty   well   that  the 

fine  stretch  of  weather 

would  hold. 

Our  staff  at  home- 
even  Mademoiselle. who 

had  been  set  to  work 

with   the  maids— was 

already  tired.  But  while 

thinus  rushed  forward, 

while  people  still  wrote 

and  telephoned  and 

tele^^raphed  to  say  they 

were  coming  and  the 

florist's  men  slruoK  all 

i)ur  trees  with  lights. 

Mrs.  Hey  ward  flour- 
ished and,  a  I  the  same 

lime,    softened  back 

from  a  mood  she  had 

fallen  into.  After  the 

trip  to  Roaring  Gap. 

less  Rains  and  the  Prince  had  begun 

a  careless  dropping  back  and  forth 

from  the  Rainses'  to  the  Hey  wards'.  You 

would  never  have  said  the  Prince  took 

the  least  bit  more  trouble  with  Tess  than 

ivith  Mrs.  Hey  ward;  and  I  thought  the 

way,  when  Mr.  Heyward  wasn't  there,  the 

Prince's  voice  had  a  queer  exciting  sound 

when  he  spoke  her  name— Kalith-reen,  he 

said  it— I  thought  maybe  this  was  even  more 

loticeable. 

But  Mrs.  Heyward  had  grown  contrary 
xith  the  Prince.  She  would  go  all  a-clap- 
Der-claw  with  words  at  him,  arguing  and 
Dicking  at  him.  This  brought  their  heads 
ogether  as  often  as  the  laughing  and  the 
ow^-voiced  conversations  had  before.  So  Mr. 
Heyward  was  still  sitting  up  late  as  many 
lights  as  ever  and  driving  home  from  the 
nills— or  to  other  people's  houses— for  tea 
ind  moving  quietly,  but  over  and  over, 
rom  room  to  room  as  they  did.  Aunt  Lou 
ras  on  his  mind  too. 

He  seldom  saw  her  now,  for  visitors  tired 
ler.  Whenever  I  could  I  managed  to  be  the 
)ne  to  clean  her  room  and  take  care  of  the 
rays.  She  always  knew  it  was  me,  though 
lalf  the  time  she  didn't  bother  to  open  her 
;yes.  She  ate  almost  nothing  and  the  gullies 
between  the  cords  of  her  neck  and  her  collar- 
X)ne  were  bluish-gray.  Maybe  my  feelings 
ouched  through  her  skin,  because  once, 
'Taw,"  she  said,  "it's  quite  nice." 

I  was  looking  at  her  forehead,  at  the  nose 
bridge  and  cheek  that  flared  out  around  the 
lollow  of  her  closed  eye.  "You  must  believe 


yes. 


me,  she  sjiid.  "KverylhinK  the  uncom- 
pleted task  the  daily  torment  and  yes. 
even  the  attachments,  the  disturbmj;  faccx 
are  all  far-gone  rolled  away  like  si,  many 
stones." 

"I'm  not  two  feet  from  you,"  I  njud. 

"Have  it  your  own  way."  she  sard.  "(;ive 
me  your  hand."  and  I  couldn't  get  over  Ix?- 
ing  glad  al  how  warm  her  (ittgers  were. 

•■  There's  no  clulter,"  she  said.  And  stand- 
ing, wailing  for  her  to  sleep,  I  tx-gaii  lo  know 
her. 

Her  long  enemy  her  lx)dy  was  foun- 
dered, nearly  destroyed  al  lasi,  and  slw 
lloaled  at  ease  alxtve  the  ruin 

IIn  Monday  the  movers  came  and  l(;ok  out 
Ihe  biggest  pieces  of  hiriiilure  from  the 
drawing  room,  the  music  HMim  and  the  down- 
stairs hall,  lo  make  space  for  the  dancing. 
Before  three  o'clock  1  had  got  to  the  last 
chandelier.  I  was  cleaning  il  from  a  ladfler  in 
the  iijislairs  hall. 

"/*/<;/  sih.  Ma /anil  !  Hitn  sin!"  Made- 
moiselle Tainlon  had  cried  and  scuttled 
away  holding  lo  C'liloe's  hand.  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward had  lx:en  telling  her  to  get  Chloe  to 
bed  early  lhat  night  while  the  rest  of  them 
were  at  Mrs.  Rains'  dinner  before  the  ball. 

"But  Madame!" 
Mademoiselle  had  said. 
"To  hcil?" 

Mrs.  I  leyward  kxikerl 
as  surprised  as  Made- 
moiselle. "Why 
she  Sciid. 

"Mummy!"  Chloe 
cried.  "Aren't  I  going 
to  see  il?  I  thought 
maybe  Lulu-Marlin 
could  spend  the  night 
and  we  could  see  the 
early  part  together. 
I've  practically  asked 
her!" 

"But.  darling,  this 
isn't  a  children's  party ! 
Il  wouldn't  be  appro- 
priate—two little  girls 
up  so  late." 

"Oh  Madame"  — 
Mademoiselle  was 
clasping  her  bony  hands 
together    "if  I  might 

su.ggest  "sfiesaid. 

"Al  the  Comlesse  de 
Fouilleres'  we  always  — 
we   always  appeared. 
And  the  younger  girl 
was  no  older  than 
Chloe!  It  — it's  charm- 
ing, you  know,  the  little  daughter  of  the 
house— and  then  of  course  she  could  spy  her 
bon-soirs  and  go  off.  like  a  little  princess. 

Really,  Madame — I  " 

"Well  — for  a  while,  then,  darling."  Mrs. 
Heyward  blew  Chloe  a  kiss  and  went  into 
her  room  with  Miss  Zadie.  Miss  Zadie  had 
closed  up  her  beauty  shop  and  come  lo  put 
her  afternoon  on  Mrs.  Heyward.  "But  not 
late!"  Chloe's  mother  said.  "And  Made- 
moiselle, be  sure  the  smock-and-bows  frock 
is  in  order!" 

"I  look  like  a  strangled  stork  in  that!" 
wailed  Chloe  as  Mademoiselle  hurried  her 
along. 

The  Prince  was  spending  the  day  at  the 
country  club  so  it  surprised  me  some,  Mr. 
Heyward's  coming  home  early.  I  was  wiping 
down  the  prisms,  damp  cloth  first,  then  dry, 
when  he  came  up  around  the  big  sweep  of 
staircase.  He  was  starting  toward  Aunt  Lou's 
room  when  Doctor  Mebane  came  out  of  it. 

"Not  just  now.  Jim."  the  doctor  said. 
"Let  her  sleep."  For  an  old  friend  he  was 
looking  kind  of  coldly  at  Mr.  Heyward. 
"She's  very  feeble,  you  know,"  he  said,  and 
he  gave  his  hand  a  wave  at  me  as  he  went 
downstairs.  Mr.  Heyward  came  back  slowly 
and  stood  watching  my  hands  going  up- 
down,  left -right. 

A  feeling  came  over  me.  a  crazy  wish  to 
look  straight  at  him  and  say.  Your  wife  is  ten 
years  older  than  tins  Prince.  No  one  ever  seems 
to  think  of  that.  But  that  is  the  fact.  I  kept  on 
working,  though.  I  knew  the  fact  would  do 
Mr.  Heyward.  who  was  going  on  fifty-four, 
no  good  at  all. 


On  Naxos  Island 

At  the  (lead  center  of  the  maze, 
Theseus  slew  the  Minotaur: 
But  it  was  Ariadne's  thread 
That  back  through  bones  and 

baffles  led 
The  hero  to  the  single  door, 
The  early  |)romise  of  his  days. 

So  when  al)andoned,  cast  aside 
By  Theseus  to  the  island  wave. 
Raging  with  grief,  ruing  her  guile, 
Still  Ariadne  had  to  smile 
To  think  how  she  had  schemed  to 
save 

From  death  the  means  by  which 
she  died. 


Sandpaper  Hands  feel  y 


in  10  Seconds! 


Cashmere  Bouquet 

Absorbs  Like  A  Lotion  . . .  Softens  Like  A  Cream! 


Now — in  just  10  seconds!  .  .  .  "Sandpaper  Hands  "  are 
smoothed  and  softened  to  lovely  "Caressable  Hand.s"" 
witli  lanolin-enriched  Cashmere  Bouquet  Hand  Lotion! 
Your  thirsty  skin  seems  to  drink  up  Cashmere 
Bouquet — it  dries  without  stickiness,  leaves  your 
hands  so  caressably  smoother,  softer,  younger- 
looking!  And  of  course,  they're  romantically 
scented  with  the  famous  Cashmere 
Bouquet  "fragrance  men  love"! 


0i 


new!  Cashmere  Bouqus^ 
French  Type  Non-Smear  Upstick! 


74 


LAD    I    E    S  ' 


II    O    M  K 


JOURNAL 


FehruarY,  1< 


Niunsmgwear . 
a  smoothly 
soft  nylon 


frames  your  loveliness  in 
sculptured  slip  knit  of 
tricot,  with  jewel-like 
details  on  the  bodice. 
Freasure  in  white.  $7.95 


Sparkling  feminine  slip^ 
mingled  with  net  on 
all-a-puff  at  the  hem 


embroidered  sheer 
he  bodice  and 
In  white  only. 
8.95 


by 


^.DIMENSION  HOSIERY  •  LINGERIE  •  FOUNDETTES 
At  fine  stores  or  write  Munsingwear,  Inc.,  Minneapolis,  Minn. 


I  jumped  when  "For  God's  sake.  Taw." 
he  said,  so  suddenly  and  with  such  force  that 
it  quivered  the  flesh  in  the  dark  circles  under 
his  eyes.  "What  kind  of  a  career  is  this  for 
you?  " 

I  dropped  a  cloth  on  him,  staring  down  at 
him.  He  handed  it  back  to  me,  smiling  now. 
"I  mean — polishing  gewgaws  and  pinch-hit- 
ting for  everything  from  cook  to  nursemaid. 
What's  the  matter  with  you,  boy?" 

"Well — you  hired  me,  sir,"  I  said  and  he 
laughed. 

"You  know  what  I  mean,"  he  said.  "It 
might  be  I  could  get  you  in  somewhere  as  a 
beginner  in  some  office." 

"Thank  you,  sir,  but  " 

"But  what?"  Mr.  Heyward  wanted  to 
know.  I  was  choosing  my  words  when 
Chloe's  voice,  still  raised  in  mourning  about 
her  dress,  came  through  her  door  and  knocked 
whatever  it  was,  the  reason  I  was  fixing  to 
give  to  Mr.  Heyward,  out  of  my  head. 

Maybe  I  looked  upset,  because  as  he- 
walked  off,  "  If  I  were  smart,"  Mr.  Heyward 
said,  "id  say  nothing  and  be  glad  we've  got 
you.  It's  just  my  fool  conscience." 

It  was  near  ten  when  they  all  came  from 
the  dinner  party.  Most  of  them  lingered  on 
the  porch  where  Chloe  ran  to  meet  them,  but 
the  Prince  came  in  and  Mrs.  Heyward 
whirled  through  the  front  door,  cold  and 
flaming  together,  a  kind  of  gleaming  tempest. 
The  stiff  yellow  satin  that  flared  from  her 
naked  shoulders  and  her  laced-in  waist  and 
the  emeralds  at  her  ears  and  wrists  were  all 
atremble  and  no  more  glittering  than  her 
eyes.  I  wondered  what  had  happened  over  at 
the  Rainses'.  For  a  minute  the  cloud  of  Mrs. 
Heyward's  hair  and  her  scarlet  mouth  and 
white  face  burned  outward  into  the  dia- 
monded light  that  streamed  from  the  wall 
sconces  and  chandelier;  then  she  turned  with 
a  jerk  and  went  back  to  the  porch.  Poetoe 
Bradstreet,  a  little  black  lizard  of  a  man,  was 
settling  down  to  the  miniature  piano  under 
the  arch  of  stairs.  His  other  musicians,  with 
their  artists'  faces  closed,  were  drawing  in 
their  instruments  and  traps  around  Poetoe. 
The  Prince  looked  on  while  I  brought  an- 
other chair  and  then,  humming  to  himself, 
started  upstairs. 

^Mademoiselle  was  coming  down— and  I 
guess  the  sight  of  her  would  have  stopped 
anybody.  Her  hair,  all  separated  into  differ- 
ent little  frizzed  arrangements  with  bits  of 
black  velvet  sticking  about,  and  her  dress, 
the  same  "good"  silk,  but  transformed  by  a 
downright  hurricane  of  velvet  bows  and  little 
brooches  every  where — all  this  was  noticeable 
enough.  But  there  was,  besides,  pink  powder 
on  her  face  and  on  her  quail-boned  chest 
below  the  coral  beads,  and  a  silk  fan  dangled 
from  her  thin  wrist.  "Mademoiselle!"  the 
Prince  said,  and  "  Une  belle  loilelle!"  he  said, 
without  seeming  to  mock  her  at  all.  "Later 
we  must  have  a  dance.  Mademoiselle,  a 
waltz."  He  bowed  as  he  passed  her  and 
she  came  on — stepping  down  from  star  to 
star — across  the  stairs. 

A  few  guests  were  arriving  and  the  others 
from  the  porch  were  all  inside  now.  When 
Mrs.  Heyward  began  to  look  around  for  the 
Prince  her  eye  fell  on  Mademoiselle.  She 
looked  startled.  Then  she  hurried  over, 
sparkling  and  rustling. 

"It  was  thoughtful  of  you,"  she  said,  "to 
wait  up.  Mademoiselle.  But  Tess  seems  to 
have  taken  Chloe  under  her  wing,  so  there's 
no  need  of  your  waiting.  You  must  be 
tired."  The  pink  powder  began  to  look 
as  if  Mademoiselle's  face  had  shrunk  back 
an  inch  from  it  and  her  mouth  opened 
but  no  sound  came  out.  "  I'll  send  Chloe  up 
to  you  very  soon,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  sym- 
pathetically, and  swept  away. 

Mademoiselle  was  groping  for  the  ban- 
ister. I  reached  out  my  hand  to  support  her. 
Her  lips  were  pulled  in  over  her  teeth  and 
ridges  taut  as  bowstrings  sloped  down  from 
her  reddening  eyes.  She  turned  and  "Ne  me 
toiichez-pas—laquais!"  she  cried.  She  trod 
into  her  skirt,  tearing  it,  as  she  climbed  the 
stairs  with  her  head  twisted  aside. 

It  was  only  a  few  minutes  before  I  got  the 
wine  and  some  of  the  fancy  cakes  up  to  her. 
I  ought  to  wait,  perhaps,  I  thought,  but 
there  might  be  no  chance  once  things  got 


Tweed  . . .  the  one 
fragrance  above 
all  others ...  to  wear 
anytime,  anywhere. 
Tweed  fragrance  items  from  85^ 

to  $57.50  ptui  tax 


/ 


PARIS  •  LONDON  •  NEW  YORK 


Anger  improves  nothing 
except  the  arch  of  a  cot's 
back.         —COLEMAN  cox 


g  and  I  wanted  to  have  just  a  look  at 
t  Lou  since  I  liadn't  seen  her  that  day. 
Merci,"  Mademoiselle  said,  as  grandly  as 
could.  liul  iier  eyes  urew  red  a^ain  and 
snatched  in  the  tray  and  shut  nie  out 
the  tiny  dark  vestibule.  I  was  hesitat- 
there,  because  we  would  need  every  tray, 
en  I  heard  Mrs.  Ileyward's  voice, 
hey're  arriving  in  droves!  As  tiie  Kuesl  of 
siie  said  angrily,  '"you  nunlit  iiave 
in  down  there  to  meet  tiiein!"  Then  Mrs. 
jyward  and  the  I'rince  were  slandui^;  to- 
jher,  framed  in  liuhl,  bkn-kinK  the  other 
eof  the  doorway  into  liie  hall. 
The  F^rince  had  iiold  of  Mrs.  Ileyward's 
iSts.  "For  three  days  I  have  told  you, 
hth-recn,  that  you  must  speak  to  me 
ne.  And,  you  see,  I  meant  it." 

wnstairs  the  music  bewail  and,  had  the 
ince  not  held  Ihem,  Mrs.  Ileyward  would 
vc  wrung  her  iiands.  "Why  should  1  talk 
\nu?"  she  said.  "Don't  you  realize  Eliza- 
ih  Rains  could  iiardly  wait  till  coffee  to 
I  me  you'd  projjosed  to  Tess?" 
The  Prince  smiled  down  at  Mrs.  Ileyward, 
1!  lioklint;  to  her. 

"And  Tess  turned  yon  down!"  Mrs.  Hcy- 
II 1 1  lluni,'  the  words  up.  And  then,  "  Imagine 
'"  slic  said.  "Why?" 

"  less,"  the  Prince  said,  "is  a  sensitive 
)un,n  woman,  and  does  not  like  to  be  niar- 
L-d  for  her  money." 

"Hut  you'd  have  married  her  if  she'd  have 

)U ! "  Mrs.  Heyward  was  trying  to  loose  her 
rifcls.  I  was  sweating,  not  knowing  how  to 
A  forward  or  go  back  without  getting 
lademoiselle  mixed  into  this  too. 

"But  of  course  Tess  would  not  have  me," 
he  Prince  was  saying.  "She  could  never  be 
atisfied  merely  to  be  liked, 
ind  she  knows  my  feeling 
oward  her.  She  knows  it 
is  well  as  you  know  how 
nuch  I  want  you." 

'•Hush!" 

"Marry  me,"  the  Prince 
aid. 

"Get  away  from  me!" 
VIrs.  Heyward  said,  for 
.he  Prince  now  had  her  in  his  arms.  But  he 
lust  kept  his  pale  eyes  on  her  mouth. 

"Do  you  think,"  he  said,  "that  I  do  not 
'eel  it— the  unsatisfied  desire  which  eats  you 
jp?  Plainly  this  passion  is  not  for  the  man 
,vhose  hospitality  I  abuse.  You  can  tell  me  it 
s  not  for  me  either.  Very  well.  You  would 
loon  see  me  take  care  of  that.  But  do  not  try 
o  tell  me  it  does  not  exist  in  you." 

"You're  crazy!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and 
hen,  "No— not  quile!  You  wouldn't  ask  me 
0  sacrifice  Chloe  and  drag  through  the 
icandal  of  divorce  if  I  hadn't  got  money  of 
ny  own— would  you?" 

The  Prince  let  go  of  her,  shaking  his  head 
is  at  some  child.  "Could  you  live  without 
t?"  he  asked. 

"Stop  this!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "And 
el  me  tell  you:  I  am  the  last  woman  on  earth 
vho'd  be  any  man's  " — she  broke  off,  quiver- 
ng  from  head  to  foot— "strumpet !" 

The  Prince  drew  back  at  this,  and  "  I  have 
lever,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "I  have  never 
)een  unfaithful  to  my  husband." 

"Kahth-reen,"  the  Prince  said  gravely, 
ind  yet  smiling,  "do  not  expect  me  to  care 
or  your  technicalities." 

When  her  hand  hit  the  side  of  his  face  he 
ust  took  hold  of  it,  and  kept  it  there  a  sec- 
nd,  before  he  drew  it  across  his  mouth  to 
iss  its  palm.  Before  he  let  it  go  Mr.  Hey- 
lard's  head  showed.  Mr.  Heyward  was 
lurrying  up  around  the  stairs.  I  couldn't  tell 
f  he  had  heard  the  loud  smack  of  his  wife's 
land.  The  way  he  looked  you  would  have 
«en  afraid  he  couldn't  hear  or  see  at  all.  He 
ust  paced  forward. 

"Kitty— your  guests,"  he  said,  and  made 

wing  of  his  arm. 

Mrs.  Heyward  took  hold  of  it.  "I  should 
hink  so!"  she  said.  "Konrad,"  and  she 
urned  to  the  Prince. 

But  he  drew  off.  "  You  must  excuse  me, " 
le  said  to  Mr.  Heyward,  "I  have  just  re- 
eived  bad  news." 

"Yes,"  Mr.  Heyward  said,  "we  will  ar- 
ange  for  your  train  reservations  in  the 
lorning." 


What.''  ■  Mrs.  Heyward's  jaw  dropixd. 

Why,  Jim  Konrad  mustn't  leave!  VVhal 
silly  thing  are  yon  " 

Hut  "Come,"  Mr.  Heyward  said.  And  Mrs 
Heyward  iuld  hrr  free  hand  toward  the 
Prince. 

"I  regret,"  he  said,  "I  cannot." 

"Hut  you've  got  to!"  Mrs.  ileyward's 
voice  soiiiKk'd  like  goods  tearing. 

"I  am  not  well,"  said  the  Prince,  who 
looked  line.  He  lx)wed.  starting  down  the 
hall  for  his  room. 

"Hut  your  hearing  is  not  impaired,  I 
hope."  Mr.  Ileyward  s|K)ke  in  such  a  way  as 
set  my  hair  pricking.  "  You  heard  what  Kitty 
said.  Now  amw"  And  the  Prince  came 


DISCRIMINATING  PEOPLE  PREFER 


mmwm 


^Iks.  IIKYWAKI)  woukln't  go.  She  pleaded 
with  her  husband  to  goon.  She  had  to  iiave 
a  minute  alone,  she  said.  So  Mr.  Ileyward 
went.  And  the  Prince  followed  him.  stejjping 
along  in  a  calm  and  royal  way,  and  kH)king 
you  would  have  noticed  entertained. 

1  could  hear  Mrs.  Heyward's  jeweled  shp- 
|)ers  click-clack  into  her  room  and  I  got  my- 
self out  in  the  hall.  I  wiped  my  face  and  neck. 
Poetoe  was  making  his  tune  surge  and  spread. 
With  the  gathered  light  of  the  stair  well 
blazing  at  its  center  the  tall  house  held  up 
delicately  around  the  tread  of  i)rancing  feet 
and  the  out  (lying  hailstorm  of  chatter. 

"Taw!"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "We're  giv- 
ing a  l)arly.  Can't  I  even  depend  on  you? 
Why  aren't  you  downstairs?"  I  saw  she  had 
put  on  some  rouge.  But  the  past  quarter 
hour  was  telling  on  her. 

I  said,  "Madam,  maybe  they'd  enjoy 
some  of  the  cakes  and  things  in  the  West 
Room.  I  thought  I'd  ask  them." 

Mrs.  Heyward  told  me 
to  get  and  stay  down- 
stairs—as soon  as  I'd 
brought  her  a  drink. 
"Bring  it  right  here,"  she 
said  and  went  off  toward 
Aunt  Lou's  room. 

Champagne  and  fruit 
launch  were  everywhere 
but  I  knew  I'd  better  turn 
up  with  brandy  and  it  took  me  a  spell  to  get 
it.  When  I  came  back  Mrs.  Heyward  was 
kneeling  down  away  at  the  end  of  the  west 
corridor.  Her  hands  were  full  of  all  those 
little  lady  things  that  could  fall  out  of  her 
gold  bag  and  she  leaned  back,  wearily, 
against  Aunt  Lou's  door.  I  meant  to  help  her 
to  her  feet  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  me  with  the 
brandy  she  managed  to  jump  up.  She  hurried 
forward,  motioning  at  me.  "Sb-li-li!  Go  back!" 
she  said.  "  Don't  disturb  her ! " 

"How  is  she?"  I  asked,  but  we'd  reached 
the  hall  and  Mrs.  Heyward  had  begun  tug- 
ging at  the  two-seater  sofa.  Before  I  could 
put  down  my  tray  she  had  it  across  the  open- 
ing into  the  west  corridor. 

She  dropped  herself  onto  it.  "This— this'll 
keep  some  fool  from  bumbling  down  there," 
she  said,  and  took  the  brandy  I'd  poured. 

"But  can  she  sleep  in  the  noise?"  I  asked. 
"Is  she  asleep?" 

"I  couldn't  tell."  Mrs.  Heyward  held  out 
her  empty  glass.  "  But  I  know  she  mustn't  be 
disturbed — do  you  hear  me?" 

"Why  yes,  of  course  I  do,  madam."  I  said 
and  handed  back  the  refilled  glass. 

I  stood  while  she  drained  her  glass.  "Now!" 
she  said,  and  we  went  downstairs. 

Mrs.  Heyward  didn't  dance  much.  Maybe 
she  knew  how  she  was  always  wooden-look- 
ing when  she  did.  With  Mr.  Heyward's 
dogged  off-beat  stroll  she  managed  pretty 
well.  But  the  one-two-three  of  the  Prince's 
waltzing  was  swift,  and  it  cost  her  much 
effort.  She  had  to  dance  with  him  three 
times  though,  before  it  was  certain  every- 
body'd  seen  how  his  ballroom  manners 
seemed  to  set  a  crown  on  her  head. 

Along  near  three  o'clock,  when  there  were 
only  a  few  late  leavers  on  the  porch  with  the 
Prince  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Heyward,  I  thought 
I'd  try  again  to  get  up  to  the  West  Room. 
Miss  Rowe  was  a  champagne  type,  so  I  put 
two  full  glasses  on  a  tray.  I  put  two  of 
everything  because  no  matter  how  sick  Aunt 
Lou  was  she  might  be  able  to  see  the  tray. 

When  I  knocked  there  was  a  long  pause 
and  then  I  heard  Miss  Row^e's  feet  sortDf 
(Conlinned  on  Page  77)  jtr 
{"' 


MR.  BEVF.RWCE  J.  ROCKEFELLER.  JR. 
Neiv  York  .sociulile  and  iiinter  sports 

fan.  Discriminating  in  his  choice  of 
cisarettes,  Mr.  Rockefeller  says: 
"You  cant  beat  Herbert  Tarey- 
ton  s  cork  tip  and  mild  tobacco 

for  real  smoking  pleasure." 


Discriminating  people  prefer  Herbert  Tareyton.  They  apprecial 
the  kind  of  smoking  that  only  fine  tobacco  and  a  genuine  cork  tip  ca 
give.  The  cork  tip  doesn't  stick  to  the  lips  .  .  .  it's  clean  and  firm.  An 
discriminating  people  prefer  Herbert  Tareyton  because  their  modern  si/ 
not  only  means  a  longer,  cooler  smoke,  but  that  extra  measure  of  fin 
tobacco  makes  Herbert  Tareyton  today's  most  unusual  cigarette  valu( 

THERE'S    SOMETHING    ABOUT    THEM    YOU'LL  LIK 

Oopr..  The  American  Tob*cco  Comtia 


I.  \  I)  I  I. 


II   <>  \l  I 


I  II 


(Ctmlinuiil  from  f'liKf  71) 
sloiiip  up  to  the  other  side  of  Ihc  door. 
"  Well?  "  sIr'  saifl  in  ;i  (|iieiT  tone. 
"Il'snu'    Tiiw."  I  micluecl  ;il  llicdoor. 
"Oh,"  Miss  Rowf  said.  "Have  you  llic 
key?" 

I  balanced  my  tray  and 
'  It's  locked,"  I  said. 
'  said  Miss  Rowc. 
foolishly,   I   held  out  Ihe 
soiiu'lliinK,  some- 


The  key.> 
tried  the  door. 
'  It  is  indeed, 
'But  look" 
tray    "  I  brought  you 
tliinu  for  Mrs.  Anderson." 

'She  has  been  dead  for 
Miss  Howe  said. 


(|uite  a  while, 


"Lord."  I  )ocl<)r  Andrews'  beseechiiiK  voice 
read  out,  "Lord,  lei  me  know  mine  end.  and 
the  number  of  my  days  "  and  Mrs.  I \vy- 
ward,  knet'linn  all  in  white,  looked  ii])  as  if 
someone  had  touched  her. 

The  church  was  cold  with  fn  sh  |)laster  and 
a  smell  of  ici'd  flowers.  Not  even  the  weather 
and  the  crowd  warmed  the  hinh  spaces  lilled 
up  with  the  ^lare  from  clear-^lass  windows. 
1  tried  to  think  of  Aunt  Loushul  into  the  ex- 
pensive black  padded  box,  but  even  the  box 
was  hidden  like  Aunt  Lou  reduced,  blot- 
ted out  by  the  blanket  of  orchids  that  touched 
to  the  ground.  So,  with  Mrs.  I  ley  ward  still 
kneeling  uj)  slatuelike,  and  the  inside  of  my 
stomach  a-pucker,  I  looked  down  at  the 
empty  hollows  of  my  hands  and  found  it  was 
Ola-Mae  Haw-kes  -  the  warm  comfortable 
cushions  of  her  llesh-  that  filled  my  mind.  I 
was  starting  to  be  ashamed  when  I  realized 
that  Aunt  Lou,  had  she  heard  and  seen  her 
own  funeral,  would  not  have  been  disturbed 
to  read  my  thoughts. 

Out  on  Cemetery  Hill,   "Ashes  to 
ashes  — — "  Doctor  Andrews  said,  opening 
his  fingers  over  the  raw 
hole.  I  thought  of  the  little 
heap,  the  pilcd-up  pages, 
of  the  printed  works  of  Lu- 
cinda  H.  Anderson  on  my 
attic  shelf.  The  words 
formed  themselves  inside 
me:  Listen,  not  even  that 
store-bought  blanket  of  ven- 
omous-looking flowers,  nor 
any  spaded-on  dirt,  nor  your  dropped,  dismiss- 
ing pinch  of  dust  can  return  her  to  earth. 
Maybe  I  smiled,  for  Mrs.  Heyward  gave  me 
a  cold  shocked  stare.  And  then,  as  I  stared 
back  at  her,  it  came  to  me  that  in  time  the 
books  would  crumble.  So  there  I  was,  just 
trying  to  fill  my  lungs,  not  thinking  of  any- 
thing at  all. 

It  had  seemed  as  if  the  day  of  the  funeral 
would  never  come.  Even  Mr.  Heyward  in  the 
moment  of  coming  down,  gray-faced,  from 
Aunt  Lou's  room  had  admitted  it  must  be  put 
as  far  away  from  the  ball  as  possible.  It  was 
the  Prince  who  had  thought  about  the  news- 
papers. There  was  going  to  be  a  fancy  full 
account  of  the  party.  "I  will  stop  it,"  the 
Prince  said,  and  flew  off  in  the  roadster. 

Doctor  Mebane  had  come,  when  they 
called  him,  with  just  a  coat  thrown  over  his 
pajamas,  thinking  he  could  do  something  for 
Aunt  Lou.  When  he  saw  her  he  stopped  in  his 
tracks.  And  when  he  picked  up  her  stiff 
wrist  Miss  Rowe  ran  out  of  the  room. 

The  doctor  was  writing  in  his  little  book 
when  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "Donald^ about 
the  formalities— whoever  you  report  to— 
there's  no  hurry,  is  there?  " 

"There's  a  law,"  Doctor  Mebane  said.  "I 
have  never  ignored  it,  even  in— even  in  dig- 
nified cases."  He  glanced  at  Mr.  Heyward. 
But  Mr.  Heyward  was  looking  at  the  floor. 

When  the  Prince  got  back  it  was  full  day- 
light, and  he'd  had  to  arrange  that  the  Hey- 
wards,  who  owned  shares  in  the  paper,  would 
pay  for  the  new  edition  of  the  society  section 
that  was  being  printed. 

"Thank  you,"  Mr.  Heyward  said. 

Until  he  was  out  of  earshot  Mrs.  Heyward, 
whose  ball  gown  was  creased  now,  like  her 
face  under  her  loosened  hair,  stood  clasping 
and  unclasping  her  bracelet.  Then,  in  a 
meager  voice,  "That  other  paper,  the  first 
edition,"  she  said.  "  I'd  like  to— I  mean— did 
you  happen  to  bring  one?  " 

The  Prince  reached  into  his  pocket  and 
handed  her  the  folded  sheet  of  a  society  page. 
The  hair  of  her  bowed  head  hid  her  face. 


A  good  education  consists 
in  knowing  how  to  sing 
and  dance  well.      — plato 


'l  hat  morning  was  clear  and  I  was  stand- 
ing in  the  yard  when  Mr.  I  ley  ward  oiine 
out.  He  said  I  should  gel  some  sleep.  "We 
can  ill  si)are  you,"  lie  said,  "but  go  lo  l)cd." 
He'd  had  a  balh  and  shave  and  put  on  a 
fresh  linen  suit.  But  I  saw  the  veins  stand- 
ing out  on  Ihe  backs  of  his  hands  and  how 
lilt-  dark  places  under  his  eyes  were  puffed. 

"I'm  all  right,  sir,"  I  said,  "and  I'd 
rather  make  il  up  tonight.  Cian'l  you  rest  a 
while,  sir?" 

II  r:  sh(X)k  his  head.    He  wanted  to  be 

around,  he  said,  when  C'likie  got  up. 

But  C'hioe  was  not  allowed  lo  hear  atxnil 
Aunt  Lou  till  after  breakfast.  Mrs,  Heyward 
insisted  on  being  the  one  to  lell  her. 

"Not  already?"  Cliloe  said.  "No{  yet!" 
Mrs.  Heyward  quickly  said  how  old  Aunt 
I-ou  was,  but  Chloe  was  sitting  still.  "To 
die  Aunt  Uni  died."  Chloe  said,  and  gazed 
into  the  morning  air  at  this  mysterious  [xir- 
tion  of  life  that  had  been  set  out  before  her. 

I'd  begun  clearing  off  when  she  slip|x:d  out 
of  her  chair.  "Where  are  you  going?"  her 
mother  asked. 

"Why"  Chloe  looked  surprised  — "to 
Aunt  Lou." 

"What?"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "Come 
back  here!" 

"But  they'll  have  to  take  her  away,  and 
I  want  to  go  up  there  before  they  do." 

"Chloe!  Of  all  the  >norbid  "  Mrs. 
Heyward  jumped  up.  "Don't  you  under- 
stand"~  she  was  foUowing  Chloe  to  the 
hall  — "it  isn't  Aunt  Lou  any  more!  The  — 
the  — what's  upstairs  hasn't  anything  to  do 
with  you." 

"My  Aunt  Lou's  upstairs,"  Chloe  said, 
"and  her  dying  has  happened  to  me." 

When  Mrs.  Heyward 
laid  hold  of  her  Chk)e's 
blue  eyes  clouded  and 
turned  angry. 

"Now,  Chloe"  — Mrs. 
Heyward 's  voice  grew  ex- 
cited—"I    won't  have 

you  " 

"Let  go,"  Chloe  said, 
"let  go." 

"You  listen!"  her  mother  said.  "It's  dis- 
gusting! You're  not  to  go  peeking  and  peer- 
ing at  that— that  horrible  " 

Chloe  began  to  shudder  and  I  threw  the 
Wedgwood  platter  down  hard  onto  the  floor. 
It  was  the  antique  hundred-dollar  one,  and 
when  Mrs.  Heyward  saw  the  scattering 
pieces  she  rushed  at  me,  her  face  aflame.  But 
the  crash  had  brought  in  Mr.  Heyward  from 
the  porch,  and  accidents,  he  said,  always 
came  when  we  were  tired.  He  would  not  agree 
that  part  of  my  wages  should  be  held  out  till 
the  dish  was  paid  for.  "Hush,  Kitty,"  he  said. 
"You  aren't  yourself." 

"Don't  worry  about  me,"  Mrs.  Heyward 
said,  "but  we've  got  to  do  something  about 
Chloe.  She's  a  wreck ! " 

Chloe  hadn't  moved  but  now  she  covered 
her  white  face  with  her  hands. 

"Tell  her  to  go  to  bed." 

"I  can't!"  Chloe's  tear-filled  eyes  looked 
over  her  fingers.  "  I  just  got  up ! " 

"Then  I  insist,  at  least,  on  some  fresh  air! 
Go  in  the  garden.  Jim,  darling,  tell  her  she 
must.  I'll  send  Mademoiselle,"  said  Mrs. 
Heyward,  and  she  hurried  off. 

Mr.  Heyward  was  smoking  a  cigarette, 
watching  while  I  folded  the  cloth.  "Taw,  do 
you  think  she's  not  well — Chloe?"  he  asked. 

'T'd  say  she  was  all  right,  sir."  Mr.  Hey- 
ward went  on  smoking.  "But  Mrs.  Heyward, 
sir.  I'm  afraid  she's  tired.  I'm  afraid,  sir,"  I 
said,  "that  Mrs.  Heyward  is  sick." 

The  college  was  empty  and  shut,  with 
commencement  over,  but  soon  all  the  rest  of 
the  town  was  leaving  flowers  or  cards  about 
Aunt  Lou.  Some  people  did  this  because  a 
Heyward  was  a  Heyward,  and  some  for  Jim 
Heyward's  sake;  and  some  because  of  Mr. 
Heyward  for  their  own  sakes.  And  there  were 
a  few  who  came  because  they  could  remem- 
ber, back  before  the  wheel-chair  years.  Aunt 
Lou.  And  there  were  those  who  said,  with  a 
watchful  flicker  in  their  eyes,  how  sudden  it 
must  have  been— "We  heard  she  was  sick, 
but  my  dear,  with  everything— well,  so  gay— 

who'd  have  thought  "  and  what  a  shock 

to  poor  Mrs.  Heyward. 


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78 


LAD    I    E    S  ' 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


February,  19i 


If  you'd  like  to  lose 
but  hate  to  diet . . . 

Have  Grapefruit 

-for  dessert:/ 


Want  to  trim  down  a  little, 

maybe  lose  a  few  unwelcome 
pounds?  Easiest  thing  in  the  world 
—if  you're  a  Florida  grapefruit 
fan !  Just  pass  up  those  gooey,  fat- 
tening concoctions  at  dessert  time, 
and  switch  to  slimming  Florida 
grapefruit. 

Low-calorie  Florida  grapefruit 
won't  add  art  inch  to  your  waist- 
line! And  whether  you're  dieting 


seriously  under  doctor's  advice  or 
just  trying  to  eat  sensibly  and  stay 
trim,  you  need  the  Vitamin  C  it 
gives  you  every  day.  (Florida  grape- 
fruit is  one  of  the  world's  richest 
sources  of  precious  Vitamin  C,  one 
vitamin  your  body  doesn't  store 
up,  needs  daily  to  maintain  buoyant 
health  and  energy.) 

Florida  grapefruit  trims  you 
down  while  it  picks  you  up! 


Here's  one  treat  dieters  can  eat  with  a  dear  Just  halve  it  and  dig  in  (wonderful  broiled, 
conscience — tart-sweet  Florida  grapefruit.     too)  but  have  some  every  day! 


^^^at you  want  of  these ! 

Florida  fresh  grapefruit.  Shipped  on  picking 
day  to  reach  you  fresh  and  full  of  Vitamin  C. 

Florida  frozen-concentrated  grapefruit  juice. 

Store  in  freezing  compartment  to  preserve 
its  "just-picked"  flavor.  Full  vitamin  value. 

Florida  canned  grapefruit  juice  and  sections, 

and  citrus  salad  (orange  and  grapefruit 
sections  mixed).  Economical,  easy  to  serve. 
Rich  in  vitamin  and  nutritional  values. 

^  Florida  Ci(rus  Commission,  Lakeland,  Florida 

Tlorida  Grapefruit 

So  good;  so  many  ways 


She  kept  going  through  the  calling  cards. 
She  did  this  till  the  Rainses'  and  the  Lind- 
says' and  the  Hawkworths' — all  the  names 
as  good  as  Heyward — were  in.  When  Chloe 
asked  where  were  the  Mebanes'  the  Prince 
had  quite  a  time  to  fix  the  conversation.  I 
have  to  admit  it  was  uncanny  how  the  Prince 
would  pop  up  when  he  could  help  to  fix  things. 
But  there  were  some  things  even  he  couldn't 
smooth  over. 

Right  after  lunch  on  the  day  before  the 
funeral  Chloe  disappeared.  We  knew  Peter 
was  still  off  finishing  his  week  at  the  Boy 
Scout  camp.  And  Lulu-Martin  had  gone  to 
Myrtle  Beach.  By  three  o'clock  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward was  pacing  the  length  of  the  porch. 
"She'd  have  nowhere  else  to  go ! "  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward said,  as  if  it  were  not  strange  at  all  that 
this  should  be  the  truth  about  Chloe. 

The  sun  was  setting  when  she  came  home. 
Her  mother  insisted  she  couldn't  have  been 
at  the  Rollinses':  the  Rollinses  had  been  in 
Atlanta  for  years.  And  when  Chloe  said  they 
were  back,  "But  why  go  to  see  them?"  her 
mother  asKCd. 

"They  took  Nasty  to  Atlanta,  and  they 
brought  her  back."  Chloe  said.  "I  went  to 
see  Nasty.  But  I  did  see  Mrs.  Rollins.  She 
came  out  and  said  Nasty  could  fix  us  some 
tea  and  cake." 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  "  Mrs.  Heyward 
said,  "that  that  middle-class  woman  came 
out  and  found  you — you — sitting  up  in  her 
kitchen  to  have  tea  with  a  nigger  woman?" 

"With  Nasty,"  Chloe  said,  turning  away. 

Then  the  Prince  laid  his  hand  on  Mrs. 
Heyward's  arm  and  Chloe  was  off  across  the 
lawn.  Peter,  still  in  his  khaki  clothes,  had  ap- 
peared at  the  edge  of  it.  "Be  calm.  Kahth- 
reen,"  the  Prince  said.  "Was  not  this  Nasty 
the  child's  nurse?" 

But  Mrs.  Heyward  shook  him  off.  "You 
don't  understand!  That  old  nigger,  if  she'd 
had  her  way,  would  have  made  Chloe  be- 
lieve that  she  was  partly  black!" 

When  Mr.  Heyward  got  home  I  served 
cocktails  on  the  porch.  Mrs.  Heyward  drank 
several  quickly.  Then  she  was  up.  calling 
through  the  dusk  to  the  children,  "Peter! 
Hello  there!  Was  camp  fun?  Come  on,  you 
and  Chloe,  and  have  some  lemonade." 

Maybe  it  was  the  slow  turning  of  the  chil- 
dren's heads — or  their  unwilling  motions, 
bul  mostly,  I  think,  it  was  the  way  Peter 
guessed  it  was  pretty  late  (though  he  thanked 
her)  and  he'd  better  get  on  home— that  got 
at  Mrs.  Heyward.  Her  face,  even  in  the  half- 
light,  showed  itself  paler.  "Come,  Chloe," 
she  said. 

It  wasn't  so  long — the  time  for  which  the 
children's  mufifled  talk  went  on  while  their 

heads  drew  closer  together.  "  Chloe  "  her 

mother  said,  but  she,  without  looking  up, 
called  back,  "Wait,  mummy!" 

Mrs.  Heyward  grasped  on  to  a  chair  back. 
"Why  is  it, "  she  said,  "that  my  dear  daugh- 
ter is  so  bent  on  hanging  about  in  the  dark 
with  a  boy  whose  parents  no  longer  deign— 
nor  he  either — to  enter  my  house?" 

Mr.  Heyward  didn't  get  to  her  before  she 
reached  out  and  drank  off  another  cocktail. 
The  Prince  was  gone — down  off  the  porch 
end,  into  the  garden.  Peter  had  come  at  a 
lope,  bringing  Chloe  by  the  hand  as  if  she'd 
turned  little  again  and  he  were  suddenly 
grown.  But  saying  "Good  evenin' — Mrs. 
Heyward,"  he  faltered.  "And  sir,"  he  got 
out,  before  the  screen  door  slapped  to  be- 
hind Mrs.  Heyward,  "how  are  you?" 

It  must  have  been  around  half  past  eight 
when  the  Mebanes  came.  Mrs.  Mebane  held 
out  the  dark  round  fruit  and  its  cloudy  skin 
shimmered  under  the  light.  "The  first  water- 
melon, Jim!"  she  said.  Then,  when  she'd 
given  it  over  to  me,  "I'll  get  Kitty,"  she 
said  lightly,  and  was  off  upstairs. 

The  two  women  came  downstairs  together 
and  there  was  plenty  of  ordinary-sounding 
talk.  But  I  was  glad  to  get  outside.  The 
whole  conversation  was  lit  up  by  the  anger 
Mrs.  Heyward  was  carefully  keeping  out  of 
her  voice.  She  was  angry  that  the  Mebanes— 
as  they  brought  their  friendship  back  to 
her  husband— should  so  dislike  her.  Not  all  of 
the  brightness  was  anger;  but  at  the  time  it 
never  came  to  me  that  part  of  it  might  be 
fear.  The  Mebanes  had  their  own  power  in 


the  town.  Mrs.  Heyward  had  no  way  of  know- 
ing they  wouldn't  want  to  use  it  against  her. 

The  moon  was  up  and  I  was  having  a 
cigarette  out  under  the  sycamore  when  the 
Prince  walked  into  the  driveway.  Though  it 
was  late  I  still  had  on  my  white  coat  and  as 
the  Prince  came  up  to  me  I  stomped  out  my 
cigarette. 

"Ah,"  he  said,  "there's  no  need  for  that. 
Here— have  another  one,"  and  he  held  out 
his  case.  But  I  didn't  want  it. 

The  way  he  snapped  the  case  shut,  saying, 
"As  you  wish,"  was  not  huffy  but  more  like 
he  was  laughing  quietly  at  me. 

"Stay,"  he  said.  "  It  is  a  night  for  talking. 
Let  us  talk." 

I  had  nothing  to  say  to  him,  and  the  fact 
blurted  past  my  lips.  "We — we're  differ- 
ent," I  added,  thinking  to  sound  more  civil. 

"You've  traveled  everywhere,  and   " 

We  had  come  along  beside  the  porch.  Under 
the  moon  I  could  see  the  Prince  was  smiling. 

"You  are  very  amusing.  Taw,"  he  said, 
"  but  that  is  most  .true.  Though  we  may  look, 
as  some  have  noticed,  quite  alike — we  are 
most  different.  And  it  is  also  true  that  I  have 
traveled.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  trip 
through  Belgium  on  a  bench." 

At  his  tone,  in  spite  of  myself,  I  said, 
"Through  Belgium  ?  " 

"Over  the  earth  of  it,"  the  Prince  said. 
"There  was  not  a  brick  upright  back  from 
Rheims  to  Anvers— even  to  St.  Martin." 

"And  you  sat  the  whole  way  on  a  bench? " 

"Assuredly.  No  one  who  first  sat  could 
stand.  Someone  gassed,  or  doped — for  his 
head  wounds — would  have  fallen  sideways 
into  one's  place.  And  it  was  best  to  keep  one's 
feet  still.  The  men  lying  on  them  had  dys- 
entery." 

"Where  were  you  going?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  that— yes,"  said  the  Prince.  "We 
were  going  to  the  Vaterland.  All  except  those 
who  were  ready  to  go  under  it  by  the  time 
the  border  had  been  reached.  The  train  was 
stopped  there  for  them.  The  rest — one  half, 
perhaps — went  on  to  Cx)burg." 

"What  did  you  do  then?"  I  asked. 

"  I  learned  to  play  the  piano." 

My  mouth  fell  open,  and  "Oh,  I  had  al- 
ways had  some  talent,"  the  Prince  went  on, 
"and  with  a  little  application — at  the  pianos 
of  those  cafes  still  in  business — I  ate.  And, 
I  began  the  collection  of  my  large  wardrobe 
which  not  only  amazes  but  repels  you." 

It  was  true  I  had  felt  a  kind  of  disgust, 
seeing  the  rows  and  rows  of  suits  and  shining 
or  speckless  shoes  coming  out  of  the  moun- 
tain of  luggage  that  belonged  to  this  man 
who  did  no  work,  who  seemed  to  live  no- 
where, but  only  to  visit. 

"  Konrad  "  Mrs.  Heyward  said. 

The  two  parts  of  the  name  floated  out, 
low-toned  but  clear.  When  we  turned  she 
was  leaning  against  the  column  nearest  to  us. 
The  moon  whitened  her  face,  leaving  shad- 
ows for  her  eyes,  and  I  knew  she  had  been 
there  a  long  time.  I  was  backing  off,  bul 
"Good  night.  Taw,"  she  said  quietly,  and 
took  the  Prince's  hand.  Her  head  curved 
down  sideways,  so  that  her  nape  showed, 
white  and  naked,  as  they  walked  away. 

I  couldn't  stop  looking  at  the  two  figures 
growing  small  in  the  swim  of  moonlight. 
They  had  got  down  to  the  magnolia  before  1 
heard  the  screen  door  click.  Then  Mr.  Hey- 
ward was  standing,  looking  small  too,  be- 
tween the  center  columns.  A  scrap  of  Mrs. 
Heyward's  dress  glimmered  at  the  black  edge 
of  the  magnolia's  shade. 

I  wondered  if  there  hadn't  been  some  one 
minute  in  which  things  might  have  turned 
differently.  If  this  word  had  not  been  spoken 
or  that  thing  done — mightn't  it  have  hap- 
pened that  those  two  yonder  would  not  be 
standing  thus  together  and  the  man  not  be 
there  like  a  stone  between  the  columns?  But 
the  minute  had  not  existed.  Under  the  three 
skulls'  curving,  meshed  and  jellied  inside  the 
rings  of  backbone,  was  the  frail,  relentless 
stuff  that  had  made  this  scene. 

I  was  surprised  to  see  a  light  in  our 
kitchen.  It  was  no  more  than  six  o'clock  and 
cook  wasn't  due  down  for  an  hour.  When  I 
went  in,  there  was  Mademoiselle  all  buttoned 
into  that  no-coiored  linen  thing,  her  "trav- 


li 


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^.^^k^MAW  SAYS 
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HOME.I'' 


CUSS  IT A 

^     -j^M  WHEN 
yl  it^A  AH  WERE 
V   >         ^  INJOVIKI'  , 
iJ  ^  KMAHSELFrrJ 


FIQGEREP 
T'WERE 
A  GOOD 
WAV  T' 
GIT 

some: 

*CREAM 
OF 

WHEAT".':'' 


VO'  DONI'T  NEED  T' 
BE  A  BABV  T'  EAT 
"CREAM  OF  WHEAT  - 1 T3 
lEV'RYBODy'S  FAV'RITE 

[^VOUNG  AN' 


40 


Get  a  ^U^Tstmt 
withfHOrt 

fl?MM*W^EAT. 


(Continued  from  Page  SO) 
beautiful  to  look  at  and  perfectly  delicious  to 
eat,  because  the  broth  keeps  the  chicken 
moist.  Next  potatoes,  either  Duchesse  or 
souffle— I'll  give  the  recipe  for  both.  Potatoes 
are  so  good,  and  since  our  meat  dish  is  quite 
low  in  calories  this  is  a  fine  time  to  include 
them  in  our  menu.  To  complement  them 
we'll  have  mushrooms  with  bechamel  sauce— 
what  a  dish!— and  for  bread,  crisp  Melba 
toast. 

Doesn't  this  sound  pretty  special?  But 
wait  until  I  tell  you  about  the  dessert.  I  wish 
I  could  say  I  dreamed  this  one  up,  but  I 
can't.  It  was  described  to  me.  It's  so  wonder- 
fully simple  and  so  terrific  in  taste.  Just  fresh 
pears  baked  in  butter  or  margarine,  brown 
sugar  and  a  little  orange  juice  (some  people 
prefer  to  substitute  rum),  and  served  hot 
with  cold  sour  cream.  As  the  pears  bake  they 
give  off  lots  of  juice,  and  if  your  guests  are 
anything  like  mine  you'll  find  them  tipping 
their  plates  to  get  the  last  drop  of  it. 

These  recipes  will  serve  eight. 

HOT  CLAM  CANAPES 

Make  a  moderate-sized  batch  of  pie  dough, 
or  use  one  of  the  very  good  mixes  that  are  on 
the  market.  Roll  a  little  more  than  half  of  it 
into  a  /4"-thick  oblong  about  the  size  of  a 
piece  of  typewTitcr  paper — approximately 
8"  X  11".  Roll  remaining  dough  in  same 
shape — it  should  be  about  smaller  all 
around.  Drain  two  lOj^-ounce  cans  minced 
clams,  reserving  broth.  Melt  3  tablespoons 
butter  or  margarine,  blend  in  3  tablespoons 
and  1  teaspoon  flour  and  add  }/2  <^up  milk, 
cup  clam  broth,  3  tablespoons  catchup,  1 
tablespoon  lemon  juice,  1  tablespoon  Worces- 
tershire sauce,  2  teaspoons  prepared  mus- 
tard, several  dashes  Tabasco  and  1  clove  gar- 
lic, minced.  Cook,  stirring  constantly,  until 
thick  and  bubbling.  Add  clams,  and  when 
mixture  boils  remove  from  heat  and  stir  in  2 
well-beaten  egg  whites.  (There  will  be  3  egg 
whites  left  over  from  the  Duchesse  potatoes.) 
Sea.son  to  taste  with  salt,  and  cool.  Put  larger 
slab  of  dough  on  a  cooky  sheet  and  spread 
evenly  with  the  clam  mixture,  leaving  J^"  of 
uncovered  dough  all  around.  Spread  this 
border  with  .some  of  the  remaining  egg  white, 
slightiv  beaten.  Now  cover  with  other  slab  of 
dough  and  roll  the  border  up  and  pinch  it  to 
make  a  seal.  Add  a  little  cream  to  the  rest  of 
this  egg  white  and  brush  top  with  it.  Put  on 
center  rack  of  a  hot — 15()°  F. — oven  and  bake 
25  minutes.  Lower  heat  to  350°  and  bake 
20  minutes  longer.  To  serve,  cut  into  1  i^" 
squares  or  oblongs  I"  wide  and  2"  long.  This 
can  be  made  early  in  the  day  and  reheated 
in  oven  before  serving. 

PRESSED  CHICKEN 

Get  a  roasting  chicken  that  weighs  about  4}^ 
pounds,  put  it  whole  in  a  kettle  with  1  quart 
boiling  water,  I  tablespoon  salt  and  }^  tea- 
spoon white  pepper;  cover  and  cook  gently 
until  tender.  Allow  chicken  to  cool  in  broth, 
drain  and  sUce  as  thinly  as  possible.  You'll  get 
nice  even  slices  from  the  breast  and  second 
joints.  Keep  the  nice  slices  in  one  pile  and  the 
scrappy  pieces  in  another.  Put  bones  in  broth 
and  cook  about'  45  minutes.  Strain  broth, 
chill  and  remove  fat  from  top.  Cook  two  12- 
ounce  boxes  frozen  peas  or  their  equivalent 
of  fresh  peas  until  tender  and  drain  thor- 
oughly. Soak  2  envelopes  unflavored  gelatin 
in  cup  cold  water  and  dissolve  in  2  cups 
boiling  broth.  Cool  but  do  not  let  it  "jell." 

Now  we're  ready  for  the  mold.  These  in- 
gredients will  fill  a  7-cup  mold  and  it  should 
be  transparent  so  that  you  can  see  what 
you're  doing.  Rub  interior  with  salad  oil;  and 
if  you  want  to  play  absolutely  safe  on  the 
unmolding  deal,  line  bottom  and  sides  with 
cellophane.  This  isn't  necessary  and  I  don't 
always  do  it,  but  it  does  make  for  peace  of 
mind.  Cut  a  strip  of  cellophane  just  a  little 
narrower  than  length  of  mold,  fit  it  in  neatly, 
allowing  ends  to  extend  beyond  top  of  mold, 
and  rub  cellophane  with  salad  oil.  Put  a  layer 
of  peas  about  1"  deep  in  bottom  of  mold  and 
spoon  in  enough  chicken  broth  and  gelatin 
to  cover.  Now  fit  the  chicken  slices  in,  using 
the  nice  ones  for  the  outside  where  they  will 
show  and  the  scrappy  pieces  in  the  middle. 
Do  this  neatly  so  the  effect  will  be  pretty  and 
spoon  in  chicken -broth  mixture  as  you  go 


cooking  odors 


Use 

air-wick 

to 

help 

overcome  fish  odors: 
if  you  want  to  ; 
stay  "in  the  swim"  > 
with  your  guests  !  ' 
air-wick  kills  typical 
indoor  odors  3  times 
as  effectively  as 
other  deodorizers 
tested  !  Get  air-Wick 
today. 


air-wick 


The  product  that  made 
chlorophyll  a  household  word. 
Makes  every  room  in 
your  home  clean-smelling 
and  pleasant. 

•jlr-WiCk  IS  *  TB«DEM«RK  OF  SEEMAN  BROTHERS,  INC. 
©1953,  SEEMAN  BROTHERS,  INC  .  ,  N  Ew  YOR  K,  N  .  Y. 


I.    A    I)    I  I 


II     i>     M  I 


i     <i  I 


Hi 


ii;^.  W  Ik'ii  uII  cliicki-ii  IH  iiH<'(l,  (ill  lo 

li  ^iMollicr  lavt'r  of  pt'iiH  and  iiilil  llir  ichI 

llic    lll'Olll.     Till-    pcUH    IIIIIhI    Im-  ('OIII|llcfl-|y 

I  icci  willi  iirolli  or  llicv  vvill  li<-liav<-  liaillv 
,  n  llic  loaf  Ih  ('III.  'I'Imh  Ih  a  (lav -licforc  j<il> 
iIk-  mold  iifcdH  a  loii<;  Hiaiid  in  llic 
ii'iialor  lo  «<•!.  lo  h<tvi',  iiiiinold  on  a 
I  II  I  ,  hMc*-  with  a  vrrv  Hliar|>  lliin-iiladi'd 
il.  ;iiid  fiaiiiisli  uilli  IrlliK'f  or  walcr  rr<-KH 
I  lornalo  nHccs. 

DllClir-SSK  l'<»l  \  I'OKS 

il  1 '  >  poiiiidH  lilalio  polalocH  aH  for  nianli- 
'    I  )rain  llioroii^lily  and  shake  pan  omt 
\  lic-al  lo  rcitiovi-  inoiMlnrc.  I'ccI  and  prcMs 
roii;;li  rircr  into  a  Itoul,  or  inaHli  with  po- 
lo niaHiii-r.  Add       lalilrHpoons  l>iilli-r  or 
irjjarinr,  l!  laldcHpooiiH  crcaiii,  I  m  iiolc 
d    <"f;f;  volks  licalcn  loficllicr.  and  nail  and 
lilc  pepprr  (o  laKt<-.  \\  iiip  uiilil  crcainv  in 
xluri —  I  use  llic  electric  licalcr  lor  I  his  joli, 
lin  inixliin-  is  very  niana^calile.  1 1  can  In- 
uldcd  inio  any  shajx'  \oii  like  for  individual 
rvin^s  and  decorated  liy  pn-ssin^  (he  po- 
to  tliron<;li  a  pastry  tnlie.  This  lime  Tve 
lUile  cone-shaped   momids  and  decorated 
leiii  all  over  «  ilh  simple  (lower  forms,  l  o  do 
lis,  use  the  rosetle  Inhe  o(  yonr  pastry  haf;. 
ill  the  l)a^  alioni  hall  lull  of  potato  and, 
iirtini^  at   lh<'  top  of  the  cone,  s<piee/.c 
It  a  little  flower  and  lift  the  tiihe  away 
iiieklv.  I'roceed  nntil  entire  surface  is  cov- 
ed. This  is  inn,  and  the  heantilul  ihin^  is 
lat  if  von  re  new  al  the  fjainc  and  make 
inie  diids  von  can  pick  I  he  Mowers  olT,  stick 
leiii  hack  in  the  ha;;,  and  start  aij;ain.  I  f  yon 
on't  want  to  hother  with  llie  pastry  tithe, 
isl  score  the  cones  with  a  fork  or  leave  them 
lain.  The  potatoes  can  be  prepared  and  dec- 
rated  earlv  in  the  <lav.  I'nt  lh<'ni  on  a  cooky 
leet  and  keep  them  at  room  temperature. 
Iiout  '  J  hour  hefore  servin;;  |)nl  them  in  a 
loderate — .'{.')0°  F. — oven  until  hot  through — 
bout  ilO  minutes — then  hrowii  slightly  iin- 
IT  ihe  hroiler.  Don  t  have  them  too  close  to 
le  hroiler  or  the  peaks  will  burn, 

POTATO  souffle' 

ere's  the  alternate  potato  recipe;  either  the 
•uchesse  potatoes  or  the  soiillle  is  marvelous 
ith  this  meal,  and  you  can  take  vour  |)ick. 
lash  2  pounds  potatoes  as  for  Diichesse  po- 
lices. Add  5  beaten  eg;g;  yolks.  3  tablespoons 
litter  or  margarine,  }^  cup  cream  and  salt 
•  taste  and  beat  until  very  smooth.  Cool  to 
ikewarm  and  fold  in  5  egg  whites  beaten 
iitil  they  hold  peaks.  Put  in  a  greased  .3- 
iiart  casserole  and  bake  in  a  moderately 
^t — 375°  F. — oven  about  lO  minutes,  or  iin- 
1  puffy  and  lightly  browned.  Turn  oil  the 


oven  und  keep  ih.-  ,..iilll.-  ,|„  ,,.  „„,,|   (,„ 

it  lo  be  taken  In  ihc  l.iMr 

MlJ.SIIHooMs  Willi  IIHII  WIII.SAlCi: 

<;et  2  poiiiidH  h.-h  iiiii,|ir<H)nH  und  wuxli 
ihoroiighly.  Ibniove  »|eni>.  and  -lice,  biil 
leave  caps  whole,  j'nt  tliem  in  a  pan  with  I  ' 
cups  chicken  l.iolh.  cover  and  cook  milil  al- 
most tender.  Strain  off  bnilh  ami  imI.I  to  il 
enough  milk  lo  make  2'  .,  cups  liipiid  in  all. 
Melt  I  lablespoons  lint  li  r  or  margarine,  adil 
I  medium  onion,  linel)  clioppi  il,  ami  I  clove 
garlic,  minced,  and  sanle  until  omoii  i-.  trailh- 
pareiil.  lileiid  in  (>  tahlr»pooiiH  (lour,  iiild 
liquids  and  cook  in  lop  of  doiihlr  boiler,  »lir- 
ring  often,  iiiilil  sauce  is  thick.  Add  miisli 
rooms,  a  lianilfiil  chopped  parslev,  and  nail 
and  freshly  gioiiiid  black  pepper  lo  luHte. 
<  iook  in  ailvaiice  and  relieal  in  double  boiler. 

|{  \Ki;i>  n  \i{s  w  1 1 II  Noi  i{  <  |{|  \M 

Mlou  2  Iresh  pi-ai'  Indves  for  each  serving. 
I'eel.  ciil  in  half  and  remove  cores.  \  fairly 
large  ball  cnlter  does  this  job  neatly.  I'nt 
lliein.  cut  side  down,  in  a  shallow  cassiTole  or 
pan  large  enough  that  yon  need  have  oiil\ 
two  layers.  .Sprinkle  each  half  generoiisl) 
with  light  brown  sugar  and  dot  uitli  liiitli-r 
or  margarine.  Four  in  —  at  ihe  side,  so  that  il 
doesn't  wash  off  sugar — J'^  en|)  orange  juice 
(or  rnin,  if  yon  wish),  cover  and  bake  in  a 
moderate— 3.i()"  F.— oven  20  iiiiiinles.  He- 
iiiove  cover,  baste  well,  and  continue  to  <'Ook, 
basting  frecpieiilly.  until  pears  are  tender — 
l.>  or  20  iiiimites  longer.  If  jii-ars  are  very 
ripe,  remove  cover  after  l.>  minutes'  cooking. 
Keep  hot  until  ready  to  serve.  If  dessert 
dishes  are  served  in  the  kitchen,  put  a  big 
spoonful  of  sour  cream  on  the  pears.  If  people 
are  serving  themselves  al  the  biiffel,  have  a 
generous  bow  l  of  sour  cream  beside  th<-  pears. 

St'rvire.  This  is  a  line  meal  for  buffet 
service,  but  I  tliink  it  sliould  be  eaten  at  the 
table  because  you  really  need  a  knife  lo  cut 
the  pressed  chicken.  Here's  a  good  way  to 
manage  if  you  plan  lo  use  card  tables  and 
don't  want  them  set  up  and  cluttering  your 
house  when  guests  arrive:  Have  the  card 
tables  stacked  in  a  convenient  place.  In  the 
kitchen,  pantry  or  dining  alcove  have  two 
trays,  each  communing  all  the  linen,  silver, 
goblets,  cigarettes  and  flowers  for  one  table. 
When  the  hors-d'oeuvre  session  is  about  over 
it  takes  practically  no  time  to  whisk  in  the 
trays  and  set  the  tables.  The  slight  amount 
of  confusion  this  may  cause,  in  case  you're 
dining  in  the  same  room  hors  d'oeuvres  are 
served,  is  completely  offset  by  the  elimina- 
tion of  tables  iDefore  dinner.         the  end 


'Well,  gosh!  why  shouldn't  I  say  it  looks  home- 
made? You  did  make  it  yourself,  didn't  von?" 


Give  \mt  a  whirl 


...3/f(/  /earn  a// 


FOR  BETTER  EATING,  TRY  THESE 
OTHER  LIBBY  FAVORITES,  TOO! 

Lima  Beans   •    Beets    •  Spinach 
Mixed  Garden  Vegetables 
Asparagus  •  Tomatoes 
Peas  and  Carrots 
Pumpkin  •  Stringless  Beans 

l/BB  Y  Mf  NEILl.  &  LIBBY 
CHICAGO  9,  ILL 


Get  enough  to  go  around! 


IIBBY'S  PEAS  are  rich,  buttery  peas  .  .  . 
with  baby-tender  skins.  Picked  just  when 
their  June-sweet  goodness  is  at  its  peak. 
Rushed  from  field  to  tin  within  an  average  of 
2  hours,  to  hold  all  their  suiiny  flavor  for  you. 

LIBBY'S  CORN,  whole  kernel  and  cream  style, 
has  that  garden-fresh  deUcacy.  Grown  from 
plump,  specied  strains  that  have  taken  Libby 
years  to  perfect. 

So  learn  all  about  flavor:  give  Libhy's  a  whirl! 


84 


LADIES'  HO 


ME  JOURNAL 


February,  29S 


"Father's  hinting  it's  time  you  went  home 
— he's  cleaning  the  clock  face  with  Windcx  Spray!" 

And  isn't  it  time  you  tried  Windex  Spray?  It's  the  quicic- 
est,  easiest,  thriftiest  way  to  maice  windows,  mirrors,  all 
glass  surfaces  simply  sparkle.  Whish!  Spray  it  on.  Swish! 
Wipe  it  off  lightly.  Leaves  no  messy  dust  to  clean  after- 
wards like  some  cleaners.  No  pail,  no  sponge,  no  roughened 
hands.  Costs  so  little— only  a  fraction  of  a  cent  a  window, 
even  less  in  the  big,  money-saving  20-oz.  size.  Yet  it  goes 
so  far!  Get  Windex  Spray  today  at  your  grocery,  drug  or 
hardware  store.  Also  sold  in  Canada. 

So  quick,  easy,  thrifty  it  outsells  all  other  glass  cleaners  combined/ 


PRODUCTS  OF  THE  DRACKETT  COMPANY,  CINCINNATI,  OHIO 


'Here,  vou  serve  this — /  just  remembered 
this  is  the  day  of  the  week 
I  put  Drano  in  all  the  drains!" 


fellow 

f 

Holiday  or  any  day,  dangerous  sewer  germs  lurk 
in  every  drain.  No  liquid  disinfectant  can  budge 
the  muck  they  breed  in.  It  takes  Drano  to  unclog 
drains  and  keep  them  running  free  and  clear.  Use 
Drano  once  a  week — every  week.  Won't  harm  sep- 
tic tanks.  Makes  them  work  better.  Get  Drano  to- 
day at  your  grocery,  drug  or  hardware  store.  Also 
available  in  Canada. 


There's  nothing  like  it — to  keep  drains  free-running. 


SIXTEEN  AND  SLIM  ...  AT  LAST! 

(Continued  from  Page  4S) 


tomato  juice  with  a  dash  of  lemon  juice  (60 
calories)  instead  of  a  chocolate  soda  (350 
calories)  ? 

A  bite  in  lime.  Take  the  (ravenous)  edge 
off  your  appetite  by  having  a  small  fruit 
juice  or  cup  of  consomme  half  an  hour  before 
mealtime. 

Learn  to  be  gracious  about  saying  "no, 
thank  you"  to  extra  helpings  and  rich  des- 
serts. Any  sympathetic  mother  or  hostess 
will  admire  your  slim-down  spunk.  Eat 
slowly,  chew  your  food  thoroughly  and  take 
time  to  be  sociable  at  mealtime. 

Cold-weather  caution :  Our  slim  sisters  may 
feel  the  need  to  "warm  up"  with  a  bowl  of 
thick  chili  soup  or  the  like,  but  a  cup  of  hot 
tomato  juice  is  more  our  speed.  Try  adding 
a  dash  of  Worcestershire  sauce  for  extra  zip ! 

A  pretty  figure  requires  good  posture.  In- 
stead of  looking  chubbier  by  hunching  over 
or  cuddling  up  in  your  coat  collar,  make  an 
effort  to  stand  and  walk  with  your  body 
straight  and  tall. 

Have  fun  while  you  diet.  Skating  parties, 
bicyclmg,  hiking  in  the  woods  and  dancing 
are  all  wonderful  ways  to  keep  in  the  social 
swing  and  firm  up  your  flesh  too. 

Be  a  junior  chef.  Everybody  likes  a  girl 
who  can  cook !  Try  these  low-calorie  kitchen 
tricks:  "Devil"  your  hard-cooked  egg  with  a 
dash  of  mustard  and  chopped  onion  .  .  .  stuff 
crisp  celery  with  a  mixture  of  cottage  cheese 
and  chives  .  .  .  spark  up  the  taste  of  spinach 
with  a  sprinkling  of  nutmeg  or  a  few  drops 
of  vinegar  .  .  .  toss  your  salad  with  one  of 
the  prepared  diet  dressings  that  contain 
■  2  calorie  per  teaspoon. 

Special  note.  Beef  liver  and  calf's  liver  are 
nutritious  foods  always  welcome  on  a  reduc- 
ing diet.  You  can  pep  up  the  flavor  by  placing 
a  slice  in  a  shallow  pan,  adding  a  tablespoon 
of  tomato  juice  and  cooking  it  under  a  mod- 
erate broiler  flame. 

If  you  don't  like  the  taste  of  plain  skim  milk, 
you  can  flavor  it  with  '  ■>  teaspoon  of  vanilla. 

Be  prepared.  If  you  take  your  lunch  to 
school,  fix  as  much  of  it  as  possible  the  night 


before.  It  takes  lime  to  wash  fruits  and  ra' 
vegetables,  hard-cook  an  egg,  slice  carrc 
sticks  and  shave  celery  stalks. 

Keep  busy  with  your  own  diet  scrapbool 
Let  it  include  written  records  of  your  weigh 
loss,  progressive  pictures  of  yourself,  clifi 
pings  of  good  low-calorie  menus  and  recipeii 
Paste  in  a  reliable  calorie  chart,  interestini 
ideas  about  food. 

S<«hool-l.,un<'li  Saiggestions 

Sliced  tomato,  crisp  bacon-and-lettuce  sane 

wich  on  whole-wheat  toast 
Skim  milk  (8-ounce  glass) 
Fresh  pear 

Tin'fidaii 

Cottage-cheese-and-fresh-fruil  salad  (4  tabk 
spoons  cheese  with  pineapple  and  orang 
sections) 

Whole-wheat  bread  and  butter  (1  slice,  \ 

pat  butter) 
Crisp  celery  stalks  (2) 
Skim  milk  (8-ounce  glass) 

Swiss  or  American  cheese  sandwich  on  ry 

toast  with  lettuce,  mustard 
Large  tomato  juice  with  lemon 
Fruit  gelatin 

ThurttduH 

Beef  consomme  ( 1  cup) 

Lean  meat  (2  slices)  and  cottage  cheese  wit 

chives  (4  tablespoons) 
Melba  toast  (2) 
Apple 

Fridati 

Hard-cooked  egg 

Quartered  whole  tomato  seasoned  with  sail 
pepper 

Whole-wheat  bread  and  butter  (1  slice,  J- 

pat  butter) 
Skim  milk  (8-ounce  glass) 
Vanilla  wafers  (3) 


Beli«y*!«  Daily  Diol  Plan  Betsy's  Sample  Menu 

Approximately  1200  Calories 


nrvaUtaHt 

1  serving  fruit  or  juice 
1  egg.  fixed  any  way  except  fried 
1  slice  bread  or  toast,      pat  butter 
Crisp  bacon  (1  or  2  slices  on 

alternate  days) 
8-ounce  glass  skim  milk 

School  lunch  (see  suggestions 

above)  or 
Generous  serving  lean  meat,  fish, 

poultry  or  cottage  cheese 
Green  and  yellow  vegetables 
Salad 

}  ■>  slice  bread  with  ]/2  pat  butter 
Skim  milk  or  buttermilk 
Fruit,  1  serving 

Uinnvr 

Clear  broth,  if  desired 
Generous  serving  lean  meat,  fish 

or  poultry 
Green  and  yellow  vegetables 
Salad 

J4  slice  bread  with  1^2  pat 

butter 
Skim  milk  or  buttermilk 
Fruit 

Tea  or  coffee,  plain,  if  desired 

Bedtim» 

Skim  milk  or  buttermilk  (8-ounce 
glass) 


MBrvakfast 

Sliced  orange 

1  poached  egg 

1  slice  whole-wheat  toast 

34  pat  butter 

Skim  milk  {8-ounce  glass) 

i.unvhvon  (wbon  nol  in  school) 

Roast  chicken  (3  slices) 

)4  cup  fresh  spinach,  lemon  juice 

%  cup  turnips 

Lettuce-and-tomato  salad 

J4  slice  whole- wheat  bread 

pat  butter 
Buttermilk  (8-ounce  glass) 
Baked  apple  (no  sugar) 

ninner 

Hot  consomme 
Small  broiled  st^ak 
%  cup  summer  squash 
^  cup  string  beans 
Green-asparagus  salad 
34  whole-wheat  roll 
34  pat  butter 
8-ounce  glass  skim  milk 
34  cup  strawberries 
Hot  tea  with  lemon 

Bedtime 

8-ounce  glass  hot  skim  milk 


For  Mealtime  Variety  ...  seleet  from 
the  following  low-calorie  foods: 


Fruila 

Apples  berries,  strawber- 

Apricots  ries,  loganber- 

Berries  (blackberries,  ries) 
blueberries,    rasp-  Cantaloupe 


Grapefruit  Pineapple 
Oranges  Plums 
Peaches  Tangerines 
Pears 

(Continued  on  Page  86) 


'  •         S  '       II    O    M    I        J    •»    U    It    N    A  I. 


■•V 


If  you  want  to  stay  lovely,  darling, 
you  re  using  the  wrong  machine! 


Go  right  ahead,  my  dear  .  .  .  shoot  the 
works.  No  doubt  about  it,  you'll  knock  'em 
dead  tonight. 

But  how  about  tomorrow,  Cinderella?  Will 
you  wake  up  again  to  the  same  old  let-down? 
Dishes  to  wash,  beds  to  make,  rooms  to  dust 
—  and  a  whole  week's  laundry  haunting  you 
like  a  guilty  conscience. 

After  all,  darling,  a  woman  shouldn't  have 
to  keep  camouflaging  a  tired,  washed-out  look. 
She  shouldn't  have  it  in  the  first  place! 


And  she  wouldn't 
matic  washer. 


if  she  used  an  auto- 


You  never  tried  an  automatic?  Then 
you've  no  idea  how  free  and  easy  push- 
button washing  can  be.  How  delightfully 
simple  to  drop  in  a  day's  wash  on  your  way 
to  the  store  and  find  it  all  done  by  the  time 
you  get  home. 

Better  try  an  automatic  washer  —  soon. 
Until  you  do,  you're  just  sentencing  yourself 
to  hard  labor  one  day  out  of  every  seven. 


Look  over  the  new  models  next  time  you're 
downtown.  You  don't  have  to  be  an  expert 
to  pick  the  right  one.  Inside  those  sleek  white 
cabinets  they're  all  mechanical  wonders. 

And  any  one  of  them  will  work  wonders 
for  you  if  you'll  remember  to  use  all  —  the 
new  kind  of  detergent  especially  prepared 
for  automatic  washei-s. 

Ask  the  dealer  for  a  demonstration  and  see 
for  yourself  why  all  is  recommended  by 
every  top-flight  automatic  washer  maker. 


all  IS  THE   WONDERFUL   WASHING   POWDER   RECOMMENDED    BY   EVERY   TOP-FLIGHT    .AUTOMATIC    WASHING   MACHINE  MANUFACTURER 


86 


LADIES 


H    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


In  the  farmhouse  kitchen,  pancakes  served  with  plenty  of  syrup  are  a  favorite  treat. 

Rsbruary  17*^ 

MNCAKE  DAY 

■and  -all  through  Lent 

Vermont  Maid  is  a  ^orite ! 


don't  have  to  take  part  in  pancake  races,  games  or 
pranks  to  celebrate  Shrove  Tuesday,  or  Pancake  Day  as 
the  day  before  Lent  is  often  called.  But  you  should 
include  pancakes  and  waffles  on  your  menu  when  you 
want  to  serve  delicious  Lenten  meals. 

And,  when  you  do,  don't  forget  Vermont  Maid  Syrup. 
The  real  maple  sugar  flavor  of  Vermont  Maid  Syrup 
is  everybody's  favorite! 

Skilled  blenders  choose  only  the  finest  maple  sugar  .  .  . 
sugar  that  comes  from  maples  growing  in  the  wood 
country  where  winters  are  sharp  and  summers  golden. 
This  fine  maple  sugar  is  then  blended  with  cane  sugar  to 
bring  you,  at  moderate  cost,  a  full-bodied  syrup  that's 
always  the  same  .  .  .  always  delicious. 

Look  for  the  attractive  2-handled  jug  on  your  grocer's 
shelf.  In  the  12-ounce  or  generous  24-ounce  family  size. 

Penick  8e  Ford,  Ltd.,  Inc.,  Burlington,  Vermont 


Made  hy  the  makers  of  My-T-Fine  Desserts  and  Brer  Rabbit  Molasses 


Asparagus 
Beans,  string 
Broccoli 

Brussels  sprouts 
Cabbage 
Carrots 
Cauliflower 
Celery 
Cucumbers 
Escarole  or  chicory 
Green  pepper 


(Continued  from  Page  84) 

Lettuce 
Mushrooms 
Okra 
Radishes 
Sauerkraut 
Spinach 

or  leafy  greens 
Squash,  Hubbard 
Squash,  summer 
Tomatoes 
Turnips 


FAruary,  195 

Betsy^s  Measurements 

Loss  in  pound 


Before 

After 

and  inches 

Height  .  . 

.  57" 

57" 

Weight 

.  189 

145 

44  pound 

Bust     .  . 

.  38^ 

35 

inche 

Waist  .  . 

.  61 

2514 

6H  " 

Abdomen 

.  m 

32 

" 

Hips     .  . 

.  41 

35 

6 

Thigh  .  . 

.  24 

22 

2 

Calf     .  . 

.  16 

15H 

y2  " 

Upper  arm 

.  mi 

12 

Water  cress 
3l»atit,  Pish  and  Foirl 


Betsy^s  WeifSht  Loss 


Roast  beef 
Beef  tongue,  boiled 
Roast  chicken 
Broiled  chicken 
Roast  lamb 
Lamb  chops 


Roast  veal 

Whitefish,  baked  or 
steamed  (these  in- 
clude cod,  bass, 
flounder,  scrod, 
halibut,  and  so  on) 


Starting  Weight 
1st  week  .  .  . 
2nd  week  .  .  . 
3rd  week  .  .  . 
4th  week  .  .  . 
5th  week   .  .  . 


189 

.  .  .  182 
.  .  .  177 
.  .  .  172 
.  .  .  167 
.  .  .  164 
12th  week 


6th  week 
7th  week 
8th  week 
9th  week 
10th  week 
11th  week 
.  145 


DO  OUR  SCHOOLS  NEED  AN  SOS? 

(Continued  from  Page  14) 


but  in  life,  for  whose  struggles,  difficulties, 
demands,  frustrations,  joys  and  assuage- 
ments the  schools  should,  presumably,  help 
to  fit  those  who  pass  through  their  hands. 
And  certainly  the  education  which  assisted 
our  forebears  to  renowned  achievement  was 
vastly  different  from  that  of  today. 

As  one  grow^  older  one  tends  to  nostalgia, 
and  therefore  I  have  been  inclined  to  discount 
memories  of  my  own  schooling.  But  two 
summers  ago,  at  Twin  Farms,  which  was 
once  Sinclair  Lewis'  home,  I  came  upon  a 
box  of  papers  that  he  had  shoved  into  an  at- 
tic and  apparently  forgotten.  It  contained 
themes  and  report  cards  of  the  writer  from 
the  age  of  six,  in  the  third  grade,  through 
high  school,  in  the  little  town  of  Sauk  Cen- 
ter, Minnesota.  I  was  amazed  at  what  an 
American  child,  nearly  sixty  years  ago,  was 
taught— and  learned — in  elementary  school. 
A  geography  theme,  written  at  the  age  of 
seven,  described  the  topography  of  the  Amer- 
ican continent,  its  chief  mountain  ranges, 
plateaus,  rivers,  climates  and  products  not 
only  accurately  but  in  a  vocabulary  that 
some  high-school  students  do  not  command 
today.  In  another  theme  at  about  the  same 
age,  he  wrote  out  the  processes  by  which 
numbers  are  added,  subtracted,  multiplied 
and  divided.  Other  papers,  later  on,  showed 
meticulous  training  in  grammar.  Every  pa- 
per was  graded  for  spelling  and  penmanship, 
and  75  was  passing. 

His  high-school  papers  showed  that  by  the 
age  of  fifteen  he  had  read— like  the  other 
pupils— what  today  would  seem  a  prodigious 
number  of  the  Enghsh  classics. 

No  one  dreamed  then  that  he  would  re- 
ceive, some  forty  years  later,  the  Nobel  Prize 


for  literature.  He  was  not  being  educated  ac- 
cording to  his  "center  of  interest."  He  was 
taught  to  be  precise,  to  discipline  his  work, 
accurately  to  report  on  the  noncontroversial- 
aspects  of  the  world  in  which  he  lived,  to 
handle  numbers  and  construct  sentences  cor- 
rectly, and— via  great  literature— he  was  ex-' 
posed  to  the  highest  forms  of  thought  and  itsi 
expression.  With  this  equipment,  and  subse- 
quent studies  at  Oberlin  and  Yale,  he  faced 
the  challenges  and  opportunities  of  author- 
ship, though  he  was  over  thirty  before  he 
could  start  to  earn  a  living  from  it.  And 
throughout  his  lifetime  he  was  meticulous 
about  accounts,  orderly  in  his  writing  habits,) 
keenly  observant  of  locales,  scrupulous  in  his] 
use  of  language— when  he  was  writing  his] 
own  and  not  parodying  others— and  always i 
he  derived  supreme  enjoyment  from  the 
esthetic,  especially  as  expressed  in  hterature. 
He  turned  his  training  to  his  particular  bent, 
but  the  same  training  would  serve  anyone, 
of  any  bent. 

Characteristic  of  this  older  form  of  educa- 
tion was  its  avoidance  of  the  transient  and 
currently  controversial.  The  pupil  read  the  lit- 
erature that  had  stood  the  tests  of  ever-chang- 
ing time.  He  was  not  quizzed  on  the  current  J 
Readers'  Digest.  The  teacher  had  little  op-J 
portunity  and  no  encouragement  to  indoc-] 
trinate  the  student  with  his  own  political  and  i 
social  ideas.  The  child  learned  the  history  of  _ 
his  country  and  something  of  the  history  of  jj 
Western  civilization  factually.  He  read  and  5 
declaimed  the  speeches  that  had  become! 
landmarks  in  American  thought,  and  the! 
literature  that  had  characterized  its  phases  j 
and  development.  He  thus  imbibed  the  I  I 
spirit  of  America,  to  which  later,  with  I  ' 


<3i 


Good  Scouts  Make  Good  Men 


THERE  is  much  talk  in  America 
about  juvenile  delinquency.  There 
is  no  such  thing  as  juvenile  delin- 
quency. There  is  adult  indifference, 
but  not  juvenile  delinquency. 

The  overwhelming  majority  of  boys 
and  girls  want  to  be  good.  They  have 
no  other  thought  than  that  when 
they  are  emerging  from  babyhood 
into  boyhood  and  girlhood. 

It  is  only  when  they  find  that  cir- 
cumstance, example  and  adult  indif- 
ference combine  to  set  before  them 
a  pattern  of  life  that  they  turn  away 
from  the  thing  they  naUirally  wish  to 
do,  to  what  lack  of  proper  influences 
and  facilities  compels  them  to  do. 

I  believe  that  the  Boy  Scout  move- 
ment is  the  greatest  force  for  good 


among  boys  of  America  that  has  ever 
been  created.  It  offers  incentives  for 
growing  boys  to  accomplishment.  It 
is  this  urge  for  accomplishment,  this 
desire  to  do  something  worth  while 
on  his  own  account,  with  his  own 
mind  and  body  and  spirit,  that  makes 
a  growing  boy  a  good  man  and  a 
useful  citizen. 

This  honor  of  standing  before  his 
friends  and  associates  with  the  in- 
signia of  accomplishment  makes  a 
boy  want  to  do  more.  The  code  by 
which  a  Boy  Scout  lives  influences 
him  into  a  pattern  of  behavior  which 
makes  him  want  to  accomplish  the 
most  important  thing  of  all — to  be  a 
good  man.  Louis  B.  Seltzer 

Editor,  The  Cleveland  Press 


Fehriiarv  7th  to  ISlh  is  National  Boy  Scout  Week 


!•   \   I)   I    i:   s  •      II  (I 


Ml         )     <i    I      K     N     \  I 


ooRRVt  /■  NAW-HE'S  JUST 
^ppZrV/  \  UNDERWOOD 

SAMDWICHES/ 


Kids  love  Underwood's  flavor. 
It's  nutritious:  pure  ham,  rare 
spices,  a  lunchbox  favorite. 

^  Send  for  free  recipe  folder! 

1^  .,r.  Wa/nu(  St..  WQ(cr(o«;n72jV^ 


underIwood 

jEVILED  HAjvt, 

THE  ORIGINAL. ..ALL  FINE  HAM 
ZESTFULLY  SEASONED 

For  87 years  America's  favorite  spread 


SELL  WOMEN'S  WEAR 

l'l>-t-.inMHitf  -tvl.-  -  KKKSSKS  -  Mri-tl  - 
iu.ii-,  -liHl'  ss  (  ,(  II  IDS-,  ,,|i,,ii-rayon-H(>- 
SI  1'  K  \  - 1. 1  \  i  .  !■  H  I  !■  -1  ,  K  !■  I    I  ING  CARDS- 

I1..11JI1I11I  s,i„ipl.--U  I.riul  Values-Make 

I  AS".  SALI'>~i .(  «  ID  I'Knl.  ITS-withoul 
•  xPLTLeiKf.  Kxclu.-^ivf,  B.-  Kir^t,  WriUr  now, 

MITCHELL  &  CHURCH  CO. 
Dept.  30  Binghamton.  N.  Y. 


Ooo' 


STOP  PAYING 
FANCY  PRICES 

fbrFLOdRMTAX! 

ouv 

AEROWAX 


AEROWAX  is  the  GOOD  wax  that 


Saves  You  UpTo28( 


PER 
PINT 


] 


more  adult  Judt^niciil.  to  relate  existing  reali- 
lies.  And  this  wjrt  of  teaching  did  not  pro- 
duce conformislH.  It  i)rodu(Cf|  many  relx-ln, 
and  rebels  who  knew  what  I  hey  were  reU-l- 
linn  against.  Today  our  rehels  are  often  the 
worst  conformists  of  all  as  though  there 
were  any  "rebellion"  in  joining  the  Younj.'. 
Communisl  League  in  order  thereafter  to 
swallow  blindly  the  (;os|)el  according  to  St, 
Stalin,  as  interpreted  l)y  him  from  day  to 
day ! 

In  my  own  experience  the  paucity  of 
literary  knowledne  amonu  hn,;h-scho<jl  stu- 
dents is  lamentable.  Unless  they  have  read 
it  at  home  or  in  Suntlay  sch(M)l,  none  of  them 
lias  even  opened  a  Hible,  even  p;issanes  of 
which  are  banned  as  reading  matter  in  our 
|)ui)lic  schools  because  of  the  pressures  of  re- 
li^;ious  minorities.  Hut  ri'li^ion  aside,  the 
Kinn  James  versioii  of  the  Hible  represents 
the  highest  flowering  of  the  ICnKlish  lanKuaue 
and  the  key  to  the  works  of  all  the  ^;reatesl 
English  writers,  before  and  since  Shake- 
speare's time.  William  Lyon  I'heli)s  did  not 
exaKj,^erate  a  word  when  he  said,  "The  Hible 
has  had  a  greater  influence  on  literature  than 
all  the  other  forces  i>ut  together." 

SiiAKKSPiCAHicdid  not  have  the  Kin^  James 
version  to  draw  on;  he  had  the  earlier  Tyn- 
dale  and  Coverdale  translations,  the  Kin^ 
lames  version  appcarinji  only  live  years  be- 
fore his  death.  Hut  hundreds  of  passages  in 
his  plays  are  direct  quotations  from  Matthew, 
the  Psalms,  Genesis,  Job.  The  Hible  first 
brought  into  the  English  language  the  words 
"beautiful,"  "loving-kindness,"  "lender 
mercy,"  "noonday,"  "morning  star,"  and 
the  cadences  and  terse  simplicity  of  Biblical 
diction  created  modern  English  speech.  The 
works  of  the  greatest  writers  in  our  language 
are  scattered  full  with  Biblical  allusions,  and 
regardless  of  religious  ideas  or  lack  of  them, 
these  writers  have  paid  tribute  to  the  Bible, 
to  the  grandeur  of  its  language,  the  beauty  of 
its  cadences,  the  brilliance  of  its  imagery,  the 
penetration  of  its  insight  into  man,  as  their 
source  of  greatest  inspiration  and  perpetual 
learning.  Milton,  Bunyan,  Carlyle,  Ma- 
caulay,  Blake,  De  Quincey,  Shelley,  Keats, 
Ruskin,  Scott,  Dickens,  Stevenson,  Coleridge, 
Cowper,  Wordsworth,  George  Eliot,  the 
Bronte  sisters,  Melville,  Kipling,  Defoe, 
James  Fenimore  Cooper.  Svvmburne,  Whit- 
man, Emerson,  and  even  (i.  B.  Shaw;  and 
the  great  orators:  Burke,  Webster,  Jefferson, 
Lincoln— these  and  a  host  of  others  have 
paid  tribute  to  the  Bible  as  the  strongest  in- 
fluence in  their  literary  lives. 

Furthermore,  we  owe  the  fundamental 
tenets  of  our  democracy— the  idea,  for  in- 
stance, of  "brotherly  love"— to  this  Book  of 
Books.  But  since  it  involves  God  it  may  not 
be  read  in  high  schools,  in  a  country  where 
polls  show  that  99  per  cent  of  our  people, 
regardless  of  religious  affiliations,  believe, 
however  vaguely,  in  God. 

Such  omissions,  and  the  form,  content  and 
ambiguous  purpose  of  our  education,  cut  us 
off  from  tlie  main  stream  of  Western  educa- 
tion as  a  whole,  and  at  a  time  when  more 
than  ever  our  political  leaders  are  directing 
us  to  think  in  international  terms.  Our  pu- 
pils, while  they  are  encouraged  to  discuss  the 
United  Nations  (and  largely  in  propagandis- 
tic  terms),  are  being  given  a  uniquely  na- 
tionalist education.  A  generation  ago  an 
American  high-school  graduate  could  enter 
a  European  university  equipped  with  ap- 
proximately the  same  intellectual  disciplines, 
body  of  knowledge  and  frames  of  reference 
as  his  European  fellow  students.  Today  he  is 
isolated.  At  a  time  when  America  is,  in  terms 
of  power,  the  leader  of  this  civilization,  its 
high-school  or  junior-college  graduates,  un- 
less especially  brilliant  and  self-taught,  or 
especially  prepared,  could  not  pass  the  en- 
trance examinations  of  Oxford,  Cambridge  or 
any  great  Continental  university.  Only  in 
the  sciences  are  we  holding  our  own.  But 
in  the  humanities,  which  ultimately  govern 
the  mores  of  society  and  the  uses  of  science, 
we  are  slipping  back. 

And  these  are  some  of  the  reasons  for  the 
rather  chaotic  public  ferment,  and  for  the 
scholarly  criticism  that  demands  careful,  un- 
healed reconsideration  of  public  education. 

THE  END 


Tlo  bott£es 

"to  uxKkotrtetEot/a.Its 


Soo^  so 
0Yiackspax3e  Loo. 


rOUR  PERSONAL  MILK  CONTAINER 


Used  Only  Once 
Only  for  Dairy  Products 
Only  by  You! 

Pure-Pok  Division      EX-CELL-0  CORPORATION      Detroit  32,  Michigon 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  19,53 


Mealtime  Adventures 

FOR  FEBRUARY:  Canadian  Cheese  Soup,  Cherry  Layer  Salad,  Blueberry  Pancakes 


infinite  pains  they  take  in  bringing  you  Meadow 
Gold  Milk.  Like  filtering  the  air  in  the  pasteurizing 
plants.  And  honidgeTiizing  the  milk  so  thoroughly  that 
every  drop  contains  tiny  globules  of  rich,  good  but- 
terfat.  So  I  know  Meadow  Gold  Miliv  will  make 
this  soup  rich  and  good  tasting! 


WARM  ID^A  FROM  A  HOmsm  NEIGHBOR 

At  this  time  ol  the  vear,  when  many  parts  of  the  coun- 
try are  still  blanketed  in  snow,  and  nights  are  cold 
throughout  the  land,  I  can't  think  of  a  better  dish  to 
serye  than  a  tasty,  hearty,  hot  soup!  The  one  I  haye 
for  you  this  month  originated  in  the  cold  North 
country  and  its  smooth  cheese  flavor  makes  it  an 
exciting  addition  to  any  table.  Especially  if  you  make 
it  with  Meadow  Gold  Process  American  Cheese,  the 
smoothest-melting,  most  delicately  flavored  cheese 
you're  likely  to  find.  Here's  my  recipe: 

Cnnntliun  t^hwse  Snii/t 

'^  rup  Meadow  (^old  BuKer        V2  cup  diced,  cookeil  carrots 

V2  cup  minced  onions  V2  cup  diced,  cooked  celery 

V4  cup  flour  Vs  tap.  paprika 

1  V2  tl>8p,  cornstarch  Salt 

6  cups  Meadow  Gold  1  cup  cul>ed  Meadow  Gold 

Ilomojsenizeil  Milk  I*r€>ces8  American  ('hcese 

4  cups  meat  8to<'k  2  thsp.  cltopped  parsley 

Melt  butter  and  lirown  onions  lightly.  Ad<l  flour  and  corn- 
starch. Then  afhi  milk  an<l  meat  sto<'k,  making  a  smooth 
wliite  sauce.  \dd  cooked  veft!elal>les,  seasoninfss  and  cheese 
<'i]lies.  Simmer  for  1.5  minutes.  Just  l»efore  serving  add 
cliopped  parsley.  Makes  10  servings. 

I  have  very  definite  reasons  for  suggesting  that  you'll 
want  to  use  Meadow  Gold  Homogenized  Milk  for 
this  recipe.  You  see,  I've  been  through  Meadow  Gold 
plants  all  over  the  country  and  I've  seen  for  myself  the 


you  know,  which  keeps  it  from  separating  in  a  mixture 
like  this,  too.  Try  it  and  see,  won't  you? 

^^^'tfyoSvo^r  budget. 


I  certainly  think  it's  true  that  the 
closest,  happiest  families  are  those 

who  make  a  party  out  of  every  pos-    »  * 

sible  occasion.  Of  course,  Febru- 
arv,  with  so  many  significant  dates, 
is  a  wonderful  partv  month.  And  Washington's  birth- 
day is  a  natural.  When  you  plan  your  Washington 
celebration.  I  think  you'll  like  to  include  this  really 
exciting  cherry  salad  recipe  — it  fits  right  in! 

t'lurru  <.nf/«'r  Saltui 


I  find  it  quite  difficult  these  days  to  find  a  meal  that 
will  excite  the  tastes  of  a  family  and  actually  help 
stretch  my  food  dollars  at  the  same  time.  But  the 
La  Choy  Chinese  Dinners  do  both  and  are  the  simplest 
meals  I  know  about  besides!  For  instance,  the  La 
Choy  Beef  Chow  Mein  Dinner  contains  plenty  of 
tender,  succulent  beef,  tasty  Chinese  vegetables  and 
seasonings,  crispy  noodles  and  soy  sauce,  all  packed  in 
one  carton.  I  just  heat  the  chow  mein  about  five  min- 
utes and  serve  with  the  noodles.  My  dinner  costs  less 
than  40c  a  serving!  Have  you  tried  La  Choy  Chow 
Mein  Dinners?  You  can  get  them  with  beef,  with 
chicken  or  meatless.  I'm  certain  that  they'll  become  I 
favorites  with  you,  too. 


1  No.  2  can  pitted  hlack 

cherries,  (trained 
1  pkg.  orange-flavored  gelatin 
1  cup  hot  water 
I  cup  cherry  sirup 
V2  cup  chopped  celery 


V2  cup  choppe*!  p<'4'ans 
1  tl>sp.  unfluvor«-d  gelatin 
V2  cup  4*ol<l  water 
1  V2  cups  Mea<low  <>ul<l 

Cottage  l^lieese 
24  cup  criishetl  pineapple 


nissolve  i»range-flavored  gelatin  in  hot  water.  \<I<1  cherry 
sirup.  <;hill  until  sliglitlv  ihickeneil.  Stir  in  cherries,  celery, 
pecans.  Kill  oiled  individual  molds  %  full  "•  chdl  until  firm. 

Soak  gelatin  in  cohl  water  .>  minutes  ami  dissolve  over  hot 
water.  Stir  in  cottage  cheese  and  pineapple.  Finish  filling 
molds  with  cottage  i-heesc  mixture.  Ghill  until  linn.  Serve 
with  Meadow  Gold  Ma>onnaise.  Serves  8. 

You'll  want  to  be  sure  you  use  Me\dow  Gold  Cot- 
tage Cheese  for  this  recipe.  For  its  firm  yet  tender 
curds  will  add  much  to  the  over-all  texture  of  the 
salad.  And  Meadow  Gold  Cottage  Cheese  is  creamed. 


2  Meadow  Gold  Eggs,  beaten 

3  <"ups  Meadow  (yold  Buttermilk 
3  tablespoons  melted  Meadow 

Gold  Butter 
3  <'ups  sifted  flour 


FREE!  Recipes  for  wonderful  Chinese  dishes 

A  27-page,  color-illustrated  book  with  easy  ways  to  ■ 
make  things  like  Pagoda  Chicken  Salad,  Sub  Gum  I 
Chop  Suey  and  Chinese  Egg  Roll.  Write  LaChov  Food 
Products  Division,  Dept.  J-30,  Beatrice  Foods  Co., 
Arclibold,  Ohi.i. 


16  A  AAam's  HeARr 

If  it's  true  that  the  way  to  a  man's  heart  is  through  his 
stomach,  I  think  vou  ll  find  pancakes  reallv  smooth  the 
way!  Particularly  when  they're  filled  with  plump,  juicy 
blueberries  and  served  for  a  lazy  Sunday  morning 
brunch.  Try  this  recipe  on  your  favorite  male  and  see! 


Htuchfrru  Panoiikes 


i 


Pancake  Day  is  February  17  .  .  .  celebrate  with  one  of  m)  li 


ipes 


Write  today! 


2  teaspoons  baking  powder 
V2  teaspoon  soda 
2  tal»lesp<ions  sugar 
1  teaspoon  salt 

1  cup  blueberries,  washed,  drained 
(Combine  eggs,  buttermilk  and  butler.  Add  sifted  tlry  ingre<]ient8  and 
stir  until  ^vell  mixed.  Kohl  in  blueberries.  Bake  on  hot,  ungreased  griddle. 
When  baked,  spread  witli  butter;  sprinkle  with  a  brown  sugar-cinnamon 
mixture.  Makes  1R-2U  -i-inch  pancakes. 

Do  you  see  the  melting  golden  richness  of  the  Meadow  Gold 
Butter  that  tops  these  pancakes  ?  That's  where  a  smart  cook  adds 
the  final  irresistible  touch !  For  Meadow  Gold  Butter  is  seventeen- 
times  tested  for  purity  and  delicacy  of 
flavor;  and  in  most  localities  it's  foil- 
wrapped,  too,  to  protect  its  freshness. 
For  the  perfect  complement  to  your" 
pancakes,  I'm  sure  you'll  want  the  best- 
flavored  butter  — Meadow  Gold  Butter! 

FREE:  Brunch  recipes!  Ten  of  my 

favorite    recipes    for   a    hearfy,  delicious 

breakfasl-lunch  .  .  .  such  as  Sugar  'n'  Spice  Coffee  Cake,  Ham  Scramble 
and  Cherry  Muffins.  On  standard  file  cards.  Write  to  me  in  care  of 
Beatrice  foods  Co.,  Dept.  6C-I4,  120  S.  LaSalle  St.,  Chicago  3,  Illinois. 

S(  BEATRICE    FOODS   CO.  1953 


Range,  sink,  refrigerator  in  streamlining  arrangement 
have  storage  and  ii  ork  counters  betn  een.  IVindou  for 
daytime  light  has  candy-striped  sheeting  curtains. 


The  wall  works,  too,  with  recessed  shelves  over  the 
table  for  (lishf<.  'ii)[>Iifiii(r''.  rndin  and  cookbooks. 


Ky  GI.AOYS  TAIIKH 


In  this  one-floor  house  all  rooms  are  just  a  step  from  the  kitchen.  The 
"good  life"  radiates  in  every  direction,  depending  on  where  you  choose  to 
eat:  the  dining  room,  the  fireside,  the  terrace,  the  bedrooms  (for  pamper- 
ing trav  meals),  the  kitchen  itself- when  self-service  is  in  order.  From 
one  end  of  the  kitchen,  the  dining  room  is  straight  ahead,  the  livmg-room 
fireplace  is  just  around  the  corner;  at  the  other  end,  the  door  opens  on  a 
comfortable  hall  giving  onto  all  three  bedrooms.  The  terrace  where  sum- 
mertime suppers  are  served  is  just  a  step  outside  the  entry  door. 

The  working  area  of  the  kitchen  is  laid  out  along  two  walls,  with  the 
cooking  center  nearest  the  dining  room.  The  (Continued  o„  Page  148) 


Cmtwn  TOP  q*d  BOTTOM  SkcfcL.' 


With  both  Contour  Sheets  .  .  . 

you  make  your  bed  in  one-third  the  time! 

You'll  wake  up  with  both  sheets  still  so  neatly 
tucked,  your  bed  almost  makes  itself.  Pacific's 
famous  Contour  bottom  sheet,  with  four  boxed 
corners,  stays  neat  and  taut— needs  no  smoothing. 
Pacific's  new  Contour  top  sheet  has  open  sides- 
anchors  snugly  at  the  foot  with  two  boxed  corners. 
Never  needs  retucking.  Just  a  quick  tug  at  the 
top  hem  — and  the  bed  looks  beautiful! 


Famous  Pacific  Corner 


taped  to  take  strain! 

Arrow  shows  point  of  greatest  strain  on 
corner.  Tape  on  Pacific  Contour  sheet  pre- 
vents rips  and  tears.  Pacific  makes  the 
strongest  and  longest-wearing  type  of 
corner  in  fitted  sheets! 


Sleep  in  smoother  comfort .  . . 
Contour  Sheets*  can't  pull  out! 

You  get  the  most  glorious  sleep  of  your  life  with 
Contour— Pacific's  fitted  sheet.  For  the  Contour 
bottom  sheet  stays  smooth  and  wrinkle-free 
under  you  all  night.  The  Contour  top  sheet 
can't  pull  out  no  matter  how  you  toss  and  turn. 
Pacific's  unique  Expansion  Fold  accordions 
out  for  six  full  inches  of  extra  foot  room—  ^ 
extra  comfort.  Automatically  drops  flat 
and  smooth  as  bed  is  made. 


^^^^ 


Sleep  between  Contour  Sheets  .  .  .  they  cost  no  more] 

Imagine— you  pay  no  more  for  Pacific's  work-saving 
features  .  .  .  and  new  sleeping  comfort.  Get  Contoui| 
sheets  in  Combed  Percale  or  Extra-Strength  Muslin 
for  standard  double  or  twin  beds.  Sizes  adjust  to  slight! 
variations  in  mattress  thickness.  Sanforized*  for  lastinc] 
fit.  At  your  favorite  store  or  write  for  booklet  and 
nearest  store:  Pacific  Mills,  Dept.  D2,  1407  Broadway, 


on/y 


P/iCifiC 


makes  the 


New  York  18,  N.  Y. 


*Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Oft 


SHEfT 


TOPS  AND 


BOTTOMS 

Contour  Crib  Sheets  •  Pillowcases  •  Supersorb'''  Towels  •  Pacific  Silver  Cloth 


I    \  l>  I  I 


II   l»  \l  I. 


J  I)  I 


\  I 


9J 


hould  behismiirclt'rer's|ninislimfnl  to  meet. 

wherever  he  went,  a  ixirtrait  of  tlu-  lianuman. 
j   Mr.  Clay  settled  in  the  house,  and  sat 

lown  to  dine  in  solitude,  face  to  face  with  his 
!  )ot trait.  It  is  doubtful  wiiether  he  was  ever 

iware  of  the  lack  of  friendliness  in  his  sur- 

oundinjjs,  for  the  idea  of  friendliness  iiad 

icver  entered  into  his  scheme  of  life. 

IJy  the  time  Mr.  Clay  was  seventy  years 
•  >\d  he  fell  ill  with  the  nout,  and  for  a  lon^ 

inic  was  almost  paralyzed.  The  pain  was  so 
.evcre  that  he  could  not  sleep  ni^;hts,  and 

lis  nights  seemed  inlinilely  lonji. 

Late  one  niuht  it  happened  that  one  of  Mr. 
."lay's  youn^;  clerks  came  lo  iiis  house  with 
I  pile  of  accounts  that  he  had  heeu  revising. 
The  old  man  in  lus  lied  made  him  .n<>  through 

he  account  liooks  w  ilii  lum.  When  themorn- 
HKCame  lie  found  thai  thisninht  iiad  passed 
ess  slowly  than  tiie  others.  So  tiie  next  eve- 
uiiK  he  a^ain  sent  for  the  youiiK  clerk,  and 
ifjain  made  him  read  his  tiooks  to  him. 

From  this  time  it  became  an  established 
•ule  that  the  youn^  man  should  make  his 
ippearancc  in  the  luine,  richly  furnished  bed- 
oom  by  nine  o'clock,  to  sit  by  his  old  em- 
jloycr's  bedside  and  read,  by  the  li^ht  of  a 
:andle,  the  bills,  contracts  and  estimates  of 
Vlr.  Clay's  business. 

When  the  two  had  come  to  the  end  of  the 
x)oks  in  use  at  the  office,  the  old  man  sighed 
ind  turned  his  head  on  the  pillow.  The  clerk 
houKht  the  matter  over;  he  went  lo  the 
ockers  and  took  out  books  five,  ten  and  fif- 
cen  years  old,  and  these  he  read  word  for 
vord.  Mr.  Clay  listened  attentively.  But  in 
he  course  of  time  the  reader  ran  short  even 
)f  such  old  books  and  had  to  read  the  same 
hings  over  again. 

One  morning  when  the  young  man  had  for 
he  third  time  gone  through  a  deal  of  twenty 
^ears  ago,  and  was  about  to  go  home  to  bed 
limself,  Mr.  Clay  held  him  back,  and  seemed 
o  have  something  on  his  mind. 

After  a  while  Mr.  Clay  asked,  reluctantly 
ind  as  if  he  himself  was  uneasy  and  doubtful, 
vhether  he  had  not  heard  of  other  kinds  of 
)ooks.  The  clerk  answered  no,  he  had  no 
:nowledge  of  other  kinds  of  books,  but  he 
lould  find  them  if  Mr.  Clay  would  explain 
o  him  what  he  meant.  Mr.  Clay  in  the  same 
lesitating  manner  told  him  that  he  had  in 
nind  books,  not  of  deals  or  bargains  but  of 
ither  things  which  people  at  times  had  put 
lown,  and  which  other  people  did  at  times 
ead.  The  clerk  reflected  upon  the  matter 
nd  repeated,  no,  he  had  never  heard  of  such 
ooks.  Here  the  talk  ended,  and  the  clerk 
ook  his  leave. 

// 

Phe  young  clerk  who  had  been  reading  to 
/Ir.  Clay  w&s  known  to  the  other  account- 
nts  of  the  office  as  Ellis  Lewis,  but  this  was 
ot  his  real  name.  He  was  named  Elishama 
.evinsky.  He  had  given  himself  a  new 
ame— not  in  order  to  cover  up  any  trespass 
r  crime  of  his  own ;  he  had  done  it  to  obliter- 
te  crimes  committed  against  himself,  and  a 
ast  of  hard  trials. 

He  was  a  Jew  and  had  been  bom  in  Poland, 
lis  people  had  all  been  killed  in  the  big 
ogrom  of  1848,  at  a  time  when  he  himself 
ad  been,  he  believed,  six  years  old.  A  lost 
nd  lonely  child,  wholly  in  the  hands  of 
liance.  he  had  gone  through  strange  suffer- 
igs  in  Frankfurt,  Amsterdam.  London  and 
isbon.  Later  the  boy  was  lifted  up  and 
lifted  eastward,  where  in  the  end  he  was  set 
own  in  Mr.  Clay's  office  in  Canton.  Here  he 
it  by  his  desk,  like  a  tool  ground  upon  the 
rindstone  of  fife  to  an  exceedingly  sharp 
Ige,  with  eyes  and  ears  like  those  of  a  lynx, 
rid  without  any  illusions  whatever  of  the 
orld  or  of  humanity. 

With  this  equipment  Elishama  might  have 
lade  a  career  for  himself,  and  might  have 
een  a  highly  dangerous  person  to  meet  and 
eal  with.  But  it  was  not  so,  and  the  reason 
>r  the  apparently  illogical  state  of  things 
as  the  total  lack  of  ambition  in  the  boy's 
ivn  soul.  Desire,  in  any  form,  had  been 
ashed,  bleached  and  burned  out  of  him  be- 
>re  he  had  learned  to  read.  To  look  at  he  was 


Till-:  r\i>ioiii.\i.  sioiiv 

(Conlinui-il  fnmi  I'a^f  .11) 

a  fairly  ordinary  younn  man,  small,  slim  and 
very  dark,  with  veiled  brown  eyes,  and  iuikIii 
have  i)assed  as  a  citizen  (jf  .my  nation. 

One  passion  he  had.  if  passion  it  may  Ix- 
called:  a  fanatical  craving  for  security  and 
for  being  left  alone.  His  soul  was  wnccn- 
traled  ii\xm  this  one  retiucst:  that  he  miKhl 
enter  his  closet  and  shut  his  d(K)r,  with  the 
certainty  that  here  no  one  could  |K)ssibly 
follow  or  disturb  him. 

The  closet  which  he  entered,  and  to  which 
he  shut  the  door,  was  a  modest  place,  a  small 
dark  rcxmi  in  a  narrow  street.  Here  he  slept 
on  an  old  sofa  rented  from  his  landlady.  Mm 
in  the  nxim  there  were  a  few  objects  which 
did  really  belong  to  him  a  painted,  ink- 
stained  tal)le.  two  chairs  and  a  chest.  These 
objects  to  their  owner  were  of  great  signifi- 
cance. Sometimes,  in  the  night,  he  would 


BIRTHDAY  LETTER  TO  A  WIFE 

This  If  your  birthday  darling,  &  you 
are  24.  May  you  treble  your  age.  In 
happiness  &  peace,  &  I  be  with  you 
to  love  you  and  cherish  you  all  the 
long  procession  of  years!  I  have  kept 
this  day  &  honored  this  anniversary 
alone,  in  solitary  state — the  an- 
nlversory  of  an  event  which  was 
happening  when  I  was  a  giddy  school- 
boy a  thousand  miles  away,  & 
played  heedlessly  all  that  day  &  slept 
heedlessly  all  that  night  'jnconscious 
that  It  was  the  mightiest  day  that  had 
ever  winged  Its  viewless  hours  over 
my  head — unconscious  that  on  that 
day,  two  journeys  were  begun,  wide 
OS  the  poles  apart,  two  paths  marked 
out,  which,  wandering  and  wander- 
ing, now  far  &  now  near,  were  still 
narrowing,  always  narrowing  to- 
ward one  point  &  one  blessed  con- 
summation, &  these  the  goal  of 
twenty-four  years'  marching! — un- 
conscious I  was,  in  that  day  of  my 
heedless  boyhood,  that  an  event  had 
just  transpired,  so  tremendous  that 
without  it  all  my  future  life  had  been 
a  sullen  pilgrimage,  but  with  it  that 
same  future  was  saved! — a  sun  had 
just  peered  above  the  horizon  which 
should  rise  &  shine  out  of  the  zenith 
upon  those  coming  years  &  fill  them 
with  light  &  warmth,  with  peace  and 
blessedness,  for  all  time. 

I  have  kept  the  day  alone,  my 
darling — we  will  keep  It  together 
hereafter,  God  willing. 

— MARK  TWAIN 


light  a  small  candle  to  lie  and  gaze  at  them, 
as  if  they  proved  to  him  that  the  world  was 
still  fairly  safe. 

Elishama.  who  despised  the  goods  of  this 
world,  passed  his  time  from  morning  till  night 
among  greedy  and  covetous  people,  and 
had  done  so  all  his  life.  This  to  him  was  as  it 
should  be.  He  understood  to  a  nicety  the  feel- 
ings of  his  surroundings,  and  he  approved  of 
them.  For  out  of  those  feelings  came,  in  the 
end,  his  closet  with  the  door  to  it.  If  the 
world's  desperate  struggle  for  gold  and  power 
were  ever  to  cease,  it  was  not  certain  that 
this  room  or  this  door  would  remain.  So  he 
used  his  talents  to  fan  and  stir  up  the  fire  of 
ambition  and  greed  in  people  round  him.  He 
particularly  fanned  the  fire  of  Mr.  Clay's  am- 
bition and  greed,  and  watched  it  w^ith  an 
attentive  eye. 

Even  before  the  time  of  their  nocturnal 
readings  there  had  existed  between  Mr.  Clay 
and  Elishama  a  kind  of  relation,  a  rare  thing 
to  both  of  them.  It  had  first  begun  when 
Elishama  had  drawn  Mr.  Clay's  attention  to 
the  fact  that  he  was  being  cheated  by  the 
people  who  bought  his  horses  for  him.  Some 
unknown  ancestor  of  Elishama's  had  been 
a  horse  dealer  to  Polish  princes  and  mag- 


nates, and  the  yoiinj.;  lKKjkkec|XT  in  Canton 
had  all  llim  knowli  dKe  of  hornes  in  hm  bl<j<Kl 
III-  would  not  foranylhiiitj  in  ih<-  world  have 
been  till-  owner  of  a  liortu-  Innibtrlf.  but  he 
encouraged  Mr.  Clay'H  vanity  alxjut  (uh  car- 
nage and  |)air.  from  which,  in  the  end.  hi« 
own  security  might  Ix-nelil.  Mr  Clay,  on  his 
Hide,  had  been  struck  by  the  young  inan'H  n 
sight  and  judgment.  'Hiey  had  had  no  oil,, 
direct  dealings,  but  Mr.  Clay  had  Ix-con 
aware  of  Klishama's  exihlcnce,  as  KIihIuiih  . 
h;id  fora  long  tunc  bt-vn  awarer)f  Mr  C  lay's 
The  relalionshij)  showed  itself  in  a  parlicu- 
lar  way.  It  might  have  Ix-en  oljserved  thai 
neither  of  the  I  wo  ever  s|X)ke  alxjiit  the  other 
lo  anytxKly  else.  In  txjih  (he  old  and  the 
young  man  this  was  a  breach  <i(  habit.  For 
Mr.  Clay  constantly  fretted  over  his  young 
staff  lo  hisoverst-ers,  and  Klisliama  had  such 
a  sharp  tongue  that  his  remarks  about  tin 
great  and  small  merchants  of  Canton  ha-! 
become  proverbial  in  the  storehouses  anrl  th. 
offices.  In  this  way  the  master  and  tin 
servant  seemed  to  be  standing  face  to  face, 
wilh  their  backs  to  the  rest  of  the  world,  and 
did  indeed,  unknowingly,  behave  exactly  as 
Ihey  would  have  behaved  had  they  been 
father  and  son. 

In  his  own  r(X)m  Elishama  now  thought  of 
Mr.  Clay,  and  put  him  down  as  a  greater  fool 
than  he  had  held  him  lo  be.  But  after  a  lime 
he  rose  to  make  a  cup  of  tea  a  luxury  which 
he  permitted  himself  when  he  came  back 
from  his  nightly  readings— and  while  he 
drank  it.  his  mind  began  to  move  in  a  differ- 
ent way.  He  look  up  Mr.  Clay's  question  for 
serious  consideration.  It  was  possible,  he  re- 
flected, that  such  books  as  Mr.  Clay  had 
asked  about  did  really  exist. 

Elishama  sat  for  a  long  lime  with  his  chin 
in  his  hand,  then  sUxid  up  and  went  to  the 
chest  in  the  corner  of  the  room.  Out  of  it  he 
took  a  smaller,  red-painted  box  which,  when 
he  first  came  lo  Canton,  had  contained  all 
that  he  owned  in  the  world.  He  looked 
through  it  carefully  and  came  upon  an  old 
yellow  piece  of  paper  folded  up  and  preserved 
in  a  small  silk  bag.  He  read  it  by  the  candle 
on  the  table. 

/// 

In  t  he  party  of  Jews  who  in  their  flight  from 
Poland  had  taken  Elishama  wilh  them,  there 
had  been  a  very  old  man  who  had  died  on  the 
way.  Before  he  died  he  gave  the  child  the 
piece  of  paper  in  the  red  bag.  Elishama  tied 
it  round  his  neck,  and  managed  to  keep  it 
there  for  many  years,  mainly  because  during 
this  lime  he  rarely  undressed.  He  could  not 
read,  and  did  not  know  what  was  written 
on  it. 

But  when  in  London  he  learned  lo  read, 
and  was  told  that  people  set  a  value  on 
written  matter,  he  took  his  paper  out  and 
found  it  lo  be  written  in  letters  different  from 
those  he  had  been  taught.  His  master  from 
time  lo  time  sent  him  on  an  errand  lo  a  dark 
and  dirty  little  pawnshop,  the  owTier  of 
which  was  an  unfrocked  clergyman.  Elish- 
ama took  the  paper  lo  this  man  and  asked 
him  if  it  meant  anything.  W'hen  he  was  in- 
formed that  it  was  written  in  Hebrew,  he 
suggested  that  the  pawnbroker  should  trans- 
late it  to  him  for  a  fee  of  threepence.  The  old 
man  read  the  paper  through  and  recognized 
its  contents;  he  looked  them  up  in  their  owti 
place,  copied  them  out  in  English  and  gravely 
accepted  the  threepence.  The  boy  from 
now  on  kept  both  the  original  and  the  trans- 
lation in  his  small  red  bag. 

In  order  to  help  Mr.  Clay.  Elishama  now 
took  the  bag  from  his  box.  Thus  it  came 
about  that  a  few  nights  later,  when  Elish- 
ama had  finished  reading  the  accounts  to 
Mr.  Clay,  and  the  old  man  growled  and  pre- 
pared lo  send  him  off,  the  clerk  look  from 
his  pocket  a  small  dirty  sheet  of  paper  and 
said,  "Here,  Mr.  Clay,  is  something  that  I 
shall  read  lo  you."  Mr.  Clay  turned  his  pale 
eyes  to  the  reader's  face.  Elishama  read: 

"'The  wilderness  and  the  solitary  place 
shall  be  glad  for  them ;  and  the  desert  shall  re- 
joice, and  blossom  as  the  rose.  It  shall  blossom 
abundantly,  and  rejoice  even  with  joy  and 


Your  linens  are 
^nowif'Whife  and 
J^^f,  too...  when 
iheij'reClOROX-clean! 

If  you  want  your  white  and  color- 
fast  cottons  and  linens  mode 
snowy-white,  color-bright  .  .  . 
and  sanitary,  too . . .  launder  with 
Clorox  — the  extra-gentle  bleach 
that  is  also  the  most  efTicient 
germ-killer  of  its  kind! 

There's  no  other  bleach  an3  house- 
hold disinfectantquite  likeClorox. 
It's  free  from  caustic  . . .  made  by 
an  exclusive,  patented  formula. 
That  means  Clorox  is  extra  gentle 
on  linens,  more  efficient  in  killing 
germs!  So,  to  conserve  linens .  .  . 
to  protect  health  .  .  .  use  Clorox 
every  washday! 

ACIorox-clean  home  means  added 
health  protection,  too! 

You  provide  added 
health  protection  by 
using  Clorox  in  routine 
cleaning  of  bathroom 
and  kitchen  germ  cen- 
ters. And  remember,  Clorox  is  a 
safe  disinfectant ...  a  type  rec- 
ommended by  public  health  au- 
thorities! Directions  on  the  label. 


When  it's  CLOROX-cfean... 
it's  SAFER  for  Family  Health! 


92 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  1953 


Easy  way  to  a  naturally  ladiant  skin 

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♦ 


singing:  the  glory  of  Lebanon  shall  be  given 
unto  it   '" 

"What  is  that?"  Mr.  Clay  asked  angrily. 

Elishama  laid  down  his  paper.  "That,  Mr. 
Clay,"  he  said,  "is  what  you  have  asked  for. 
Something  besides  the  account  books,  which 
people  have  put  together  and  written  down." 
He  continued: 

"'The  excellency  of  Carmel  and  Sharon, 
they  shall  see  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
excellency  of  our  God.  Strengthen  ye  the 
weak  hands,  and  confirm  the  feeble  knees. 
Say  to  them  ' " 

"  What  is  it  ?  Where  have  you  got  it  ?  "  Mr. 
Clay  again  asked. 

Elishama  held  up  his  hand  to  impose 
silence,  and  read: 

"'Say  to  them  that  are  of  a  fearful  heart. 
Be  strong,  fear  not:  behold,  your  God  will 
come  with  vengeance,  even  God  with  a 
recompense;  he  will  come  and  save  you. 
Then  the  eyes  of  the  blind  shall  be  opened, 
and  the  ears  of  the  deaf  shall  be  unstopped. 
Then  steT  the  lame  man  leap  as  an  hart,  and 
the  tongue  of  the  dumb  sing:  for  in  the 
wilderness  shall  waters  break  out,  and 
streams  in  the  desert.  And  the  parched  ground 
shall  become  a  pool,  and  the  thirsty  land 
springs  of  water:  in  the  habitation  of 
dragons,  where  each  lay,  shall  be  grass  with 
reeds  and  rushes.'" 

When  Elishama  had  got  so  far,  he  laid 
down  his  paper  and  looked  straight  in  front 
of  him. 

Mr.  Clay  drew  in  his  breath  asthmatically. 
"What  was  all  that?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  told  you,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elish- 
ama. "You  have  heard  it.  This  is  a  thing 
which  a  man  has  put  to- 
gether and  written  down." 

"Has    it  happened?" 
asked  Mr.  Clay. 

"No,"  answered  Elish- 
ama with  deep  scorn. 

"  Is  it  happening  now?  " 
said  Mr.  Clay. 

"No,"  said  Elishama  in 
the  same  way. 

After  a  moment  Mr. 
Clay  asked,  "Who  on  earth  has  put  it 
together?" 

Elishama  looked  at  Mr.  Clay  and  said, 
"The  prophet  Isaiah." 

"  Who  was  that  ?  "  Mr.  Clay  asked  sharply. 
"The  prophet— pooh!  What  is  a  prophet?" 

Elishama  said,  "A  man  who  foretells 
things." 

"Then  all  these  things  should  come  to 
happen!"  Mr.  Clay  remarked  disdainfully. 

Elishama  did  not  want  to  disavow  the 
prophet  Isaiah;  he  said,  "Yes.  But  not  now." 

After  a  while  Mr.  Clay  ordered,  "Read 
again  that  of  the  lame  man." 

Elishama  read,  " '  Then  the  lame  man  shall 
leap  as  an  hart.'" 

Again  after  a  moment  Mr.  Clay  ordered, 
"And  that  of  the  feeble  knees." 

"'And  confirm  the  feeble  knees,'"  Elish- 
ama read. 

"And  of  the  deaf,"  said  Mr.  Clay. 

"'And  the  ears  of  the  deaf,'"  said  Elish- 
ama, "'shall  be  unstopped.'" 

There  was  a  long  pause.  "Is  anybody  do- 
ing anything  to  make  these  things  happen?" 
asked  Mr.  Clay. 

"No,"  said  Elishama  with  even  deeper 
contempt  than  before. 

When  after  another  pause  Mr.  Clay  took 
up  the  matter,  Elishama  by  the  tone  of  his 
voice  realized  that  he  was  now  wide  awake. 
"  Read  the  whole  thing  over  again,"  he  com- 
manded. Elishama  did  as  he  was  told.  When 
he  had  finished,  Mr.  Clay  asked,  "When  did 
the  prophet  Isaiah  live?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elishama. 
"  I  think  that  it  will  have  been  about  a  thou- 
sand years  ago." 

Mr.  Clay's  knees  were  at  this  moment 
hurting  badly,  and  he  was  painfully  aware  of 
his  lameness  and  infirmity.  "It  is  a  foolish 
thing,"  he  declared,  "to  foretell  things  which 
do  not  begin  to  take  place  within  a  thousand 
years.  People,"  he  added  slowly,  "should 
record  things  which  have  already  hap- 
pened." 

"Do  you  want  me,"  Elishama  asked,  "to 
take  out  the  books  of  accounts  once  more?  " 
There  was  a  very  long  pause. 


The  louder  he  talked  of 
his  honor,  the  faster  we 
counted  our  spoons. 


—EMERSON 


"No,"  Mr.  Clay  said.  "No.  People  can 
record  things  which  have  already  happened, 
outside  of  account  books.  I  know  what  such 
a  record  is  called.  A  story.  I  once  heard  a 
story  myself.  Do  not  disturb  me,  and  I  shall 
remember  it. 

"When  I  was  twenty  years  old,"  he  said 
after  another  long  silence,  "I  sailed  from 
England  to  China.  And  I  heard  this  story  on 
the  night  before  we  touched  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope.  It  was  a  warm  night,  the  sea  was 
calm,  and  there  was  a  full  moon.  I  had  been 
sitting  for  some  time  by  myself  on  the  after- 
body, when  three  sailors  came  up  and  sat 
down  on  the  deck.  One  of  the  sailors  told  the 
others  a  story.  He  recorded  to  them  things 
which  had  happened  to  him  himself.  I  heard 
the  story  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  I 
shall  tell  it  to  you." 

IV 

The  sailor,"  Mr.  Clay  began,  "had  once 
come  ashore  in  a  big  town.  I  do  not  remember 
which,  but  it  does  not  matter.  He  was  walk- 
ing by  himself  in  a  street  near  the  harbor, 
when  a  fine  costly  carriage  drove  up  to  him, 
and  an  old  gentleman  descended  from  it. 
This  gentleman  said,  'You  are  a  fine-looking 
sailor.  Do  you  want  to  earn  five  guineas  to- 
night?'" 

Mr.  Clay  was  so  completely  unaccustomed 
to  telling  a  story  that  it  is  doubtful  whether 
he  could  have  gone  on  with  this  one  except 
in  the  dark.  He  continued  with  an  effort  and 
repeated,  "  'Do  you  want  to  earn  five  guineas 
tonight?'" 

Elishama,  here,  put  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah 
back  into  its  bag  and  into  his  pocket. 

"The  sailor,"  Mr.  Clay 
related,  "naturally  an- 
swered yes.  The  rich  gen- 
tleman then  told  him  to 
come  with  him,  and  drove 
him  in  his  carriage  to  a 
big  and  splendid  house  just 
outside  the  town.  Within 
the  house  everything  was 
equally  grand  and  sumptu- 
ous. The  gentleman  gave 
him  a  fine  meal  and  expensive  wine.  When  they 
had  finished  this  meal,  the  master  of  the 
house  said  to  the  sailor,  '  I  am,  as  you  see,  a 
very  rich  man,  the  richest  man  in  this  town. 
But  I  am  old.  I  have  not  got  many  years  left, 
and  I  dislike  and  distrust  the  people  who  will 
inherit  what  I  have  collected  and  saved  up  in 
life.  Three  years  ago  I  married  a  young  wife. 
But  she  has  been  no  good  to  me,  for  I  have 
got  no  child.'" 

Here  Mr.  Clay  made  a  pause  to  collect  his 
thoughts. 

"With  your  permission,"  said  Elishama, 
"I,  too.  Can  tell  that  story." 

"  What  is  that  ? "  exclaimed  Mr.  Clay,  very 
angry  at  the  interruption. 

"I  shall  tell  you  the  rest  of  that  story, 
with  your  permission,  if  you  will  listen,  Mr. 
Clay,"  said  Elishama. 

Mr.  Clay  did  not  find  a  word  to  say,  and 
Elishama  went  on. 

"The  old  gentleman,"  he  recounted,  "led 
the  sailor  to  a  bedroom  which  was  lighted  by 
candlesticks  of  pure  gold,  five  on  the  right 
side  and  five  on  the  left.  Was  it  not  so,  Mr. 
Clay?  On  the  walls  were  carved  pictures  of 
palm  trees.  In  the  room  there  was  a  bed,  and 
a  partition  was  made  by  chains  of  gold  be- 
fore the  bed,  and  in  the  bed  lay  a  lady.  The 
old  man  said  to  this  lady,  'You  know  my 
wish.  Now  do  your  best  to  have  it  carriedout.' 
Then  from  his  purse  he  took  a  piece  of  gold — 
a  five-guinea  piece,  Mr.  Clay — and  handed 
it  to  the  sailor,  and  after  that  he  left  the 
room.  The  sailor  stayed  with  the  lady  all 
night.  But  when  the  day  began  to  spring, 
the  door  of  the  house  was  opened  to  him  by 
the  old  man's  servant,  and  he  left  the  house 
and  went  back  to  his  ship.  Was  it  not  so, 
Mr.  Clay?" 

Mr.  Clay  for  a  minute  stared  at  Elishama, 
then  asked,  "How  do  you  come  to  know  this 
story?  Have  you,  too,  met  the  sailor  from 
my  ship  near  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope?" 

"That  story,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elishama, 
"which  you  believe  to  have  happened  to  the 
sailor  on  your  ship,  has  never  happened  to 
anyone.  All  sailors  know  it.  All  sailors  tell  it, 
(Continued  on  Page  94) 


''i 


i: 


1  llttlO 

iteli 


Ilorv 


A    l>  I 


< »  M   I ; 


J    <)    II    H    N    A  I. 


9:t 


DANDRUFF?     UNMAMACiKAIMK  IIAIHV     I  IMZZV  IM;|{  M  ANK  M 


V 


CREffl-TONEYOlU 


to  radiant  loi  rlim  ss  .  ,  .  at  liiniir  liniii^hi  .  .  .  n  iil, 
NEW  Lady  Wililroog  <  ri'^am  Hair  llrossiii;^ 


NOW'S  the  time  to  do  soinclliiiif;  altoiit  distressing 
dandruff  .  ,  .  liani  lo  manage  hair  ...  a  stiff,  l)ritll(r 
permanent!  Now's  the  lime  lo  give  your  hair  Chkam- 
ToNK  care  with  new  Lady  Wikhool  Cream  Hair  Dressing! 
It's  the  amazing  new  way  to  soften,  soothe,  beautify  hair. 

And  here's  news!  You  can  Cheam-Tonk  your  hair  to 
ra(hanl  loveliness  right  at  home !  No  fuss  ...  no  bother 
with  hot  oils,  wet  towels.  Cream -Toning  is  pleasant,  relax- 
ing, easy,  simple  and  it  works  wonders  with  s^calp  and  hair. 


Ymi  ll  l<»vc  Lady  WHdmot  Cream  liaii  Dreh«ing,  tin-  i-x- 
citing  new  pntdiicl  rn.ikes  Chkam -ToNiNr;  poshible. 

It's  so  smoolii,  HO  crfaiiiy,  so  (lower-fragrant,  fiowcr-piiik  ! 
It's  a  blend  of  soothing  lanolin,  costly  cholesterol  and  otlicr 
precious  ingredients  that  do  so  imich  for  hair  and  '^••alp ! 

CHEAM-TONING   is   GlIAI<ANTKi;i)   ...  Or    iJol  lU.K  Yoi  R 

MoNKY  Back  !  That's  right !  Urdess  you  agree  that  Chkam- 
TONING  gives  you  a  cleaner  scal[i,  more  radiant  liair,  re- 
turn the  enifity  bottle  and  get  double  your  money  back. 


Cream -Toning  is  easy  .  .  .  follow  lliese  simple  steps! 


I  Brush  your  hair  vigorously,  then  pail  it  suction  by  sec- 
^  tion,  rubbing  Lady  Wikiroot  Cream  Hair  Dressing  gently 
It  thoroughly  along  each  part.  Let  the  soothing,  lanolated 
Is  relax,  caress  every  inch  of  your  scalp. 


I   Now  look  at  your  hair  !  Notice  how  pink  and  clean  your 
scalp  is  .  .  .  how  soft  and  pliable  every  strand  of  hair ! 
lory  in  how  easy  it  is  to  set  .  .  .  to  manage.  Your  wave  goes 
with  very  little  coaxing. 


2 Continue  rubbing  until  both  scalp  and  hair  arc  < n  aui- 
washed,  cream-toned.  Feel  the  rich  oils  in  LadyW  ildroot 
Cream  Hair  Dressing  work  their  soothing,  magic  way  to  the 
very  ends  of  your  hair. 


5 Whatever  your  problem  .  . .  danilruH  . . .  stiff,  dry  hair  . . . 
a  frizzy  permanent ...  let  Cream-Toning  solve  it . .  .give 
you  lovelier,  more  manageable,  more  glamorous  hair  than  you 
ever  dreamed  possible. 


HAIR   CARE   HIMTS  FROM 


Every  day,  Tuh  a  few  drops  of  Lady  Wildroot  Cream 
Hair  Dressing  along  the  part,  at  the  temple.  Then 
brush  . .  .and  see  how  easily  your  hair  stays  in  place! 

Between  Cream -Toning  .  .  .  use  Lady  Wildroot 


for  quick  touch-ups  and  to  keep  hair  well-groomed. 
When  shampooing. . .  if  you  lack  time  for  Cream- 
Toning,  add  a  teaspoonful  of  Lady  Wildroot  to  your 
final  rinse,  to  wash  away  the  snarls  and  tangles. 


*^  Leave  the  Lady  Wildroot  Cream  ll  i^r  lii'  mu  your 

hair  for  a  few  minutes,  a  half  hour  or  over  night.  Then 
shampoo  with  quick-sudsing  Lady  Wildroot  Shampoo  that 
cuts  grease,  floods  away  loose  dandruff  and  ^ime. 


CREAM 
HAIR 
DRESSING 


.  .  .  stop  at  your  favorite  store  and  get  a  bottle  of  Lady 
Wildroot  Cream  Hair  Dressing  and  a  bottle  of  Lady 
Wildroot  Shampoo  and  start  Cream-To.mng  loveliness 
into  your  hair. 

Lady  Wildroot  Cream  Hair  Dressing  .  .  .  50<  and  $1  sizes 


94 


LAD    I    E    S  ' 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


When 

it's  cold  outside 


protect 
tender  skin 
against  chapping 


with  soothing 

JOHNSON'S 
BABY  LOTION 


Available  in  plastic  squeeze  bottle 
shown  above.  Also  in  glass. 


(Continued  from  Page  92) 
and  each  of  them,  because  he  wishes  that  it 
had  happened  to  him  himself,  tells  it  as  if  it 
were  so.  But  it  is  not  so." 

The  old  man  in  the  bed  at  first  did  not  say 
a  word,  then  in  a  voice  hoarse  with  anger  and 
disappointment  he  asked,  "How  do  you 
know?  " 

"I  shall  tell  you,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elish- 
ama.  "You  have  traveled  on  one  ship  only, 
out  here  to  China,  so  you  have  heard  this 
story  only  once.  But  I  have  sailed  with  many 
ships.  First  I  sailed  from  Gravesend  to  Lis- 
bon, and  on  the  ship  a  sailor  told  the  story 
which  tonight  you  have  told  me.  I  was  very 
young  then,  so  I  almost  believed  it,  but  not 
quite.  Then  I  sailed  from  Lisbon  to  the  Cape 
of  Good  Hope,  and  on  the  ship  there  was  a 
sailor  who  told  it.  Then  I  sailed  to  Singapore, 
and  on  my  way  I  again  heard  a  sailor  tell  the 
story.  It  is  the  story  of  all  sailors  in  the  world. 
Even  the  phrases  and  the  words  are  the 
same.  But  all  sailors  are  pleased  when,  once 
more,  one  of  them  begins  to  tell  it." 

"Why  should  they  tell  it,"  said  Mr.  Clay, 
"if  it  were  not  true?" 

Elishama  thought  the  question  over.  "I 
shall  explain  that  to  you,"  he  said,  "if  you 
will  listen.  All  people,  Mr.  Clay,  in  one  re- 
spect are  the  same. 

"When  a  new  financial  scheme  is  offered 
for  subscription,  it  is  proved  on  paper  that 
the  shareholders  will  make  on  it  a  hundred 
per  cent,  or  two  hundred  per  cent,  as  the 
case  may  be.  Such  a  profit  is  never  made, 
and  everybody  knows  that  it  is  never  made, 
still  people  must  see  these  figures  on  paper  in 
the  issue  of  stocks,  or  they  will  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  scheme. 

"It  is  the  same,  Mr.  Clay,  with  the 
prophecy  which  I  have  read  to  you.  The 
prophet  Isaiah,  who  told  it,  will,  I  believe, 
have  been  living  in  a  country  where  it  rained 
too  little.  Therefore  he  tells  you  that  the 
parched  ground  becomes  a  pool.  In  England, 
where  the  ground  is  almost  always  a  pool, 
people  do  not  care  to  write  it  down  or  to  read 
about  it. 

"The  sailors  who  tell  this  story,  Mr.  Clay, 
are  poor  men  and  lead  a  lonely  life  on  the  sea. 
That  is  why  they  tell  about  that  rich  house 
and  that  beautiful  lady.  But  the  story  which 
they  tell  has  never  happened." 

Mr.  Clay  said,  "The  sailor  told  the  others 
that  he  held  a  five-guinea  piece  on  his  hand, 
and  that  he  felt  the  weight  and  the  cold  of 
gold  upon  it." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elishama,  "and  do 
you  know  why  he  told  them  so?  It  was  be- 
cause he  knew,  and  because  the  other  sailors 
knew,  that  such  a  thing  could  never  happen. 
If  they  had  believed  that  it  could  ever 
happen,  they  would  not  have  told  it.  A  sailor 
goes  ashore  from  his  ship,  and  pays  a  woman 
in  the  street  to  let  him  come  with  her.  Some- 
times he  pays  her  ten  shillings,  sometimes 
five,  and  sometimes  only  two,  and  none  of 
these  women  are  young,  or  beautiful,  or  rich. 
It  might  possibly  happen— although  I  my- 
self doubt  it— that  a  woman  would  let  a 
sailor  come  with  her  for  nothing,  but  if  she 
did  so,  Mr.  Clay,  the  sailor  would  never  tell. 
Here  a  sailor  will  tell  you  that  a  young,  beau- 
tiful and  rich  lady— such  a  lady  as  he  may 
have  seen  at  a  distance,  but  has  never  spoken 
to — has  been  paying  him,  for  the  same  thing, 
five  guineas.  In  the  story,  Mr.  Clay,  it  is 
always  five  guineas.  That  is  contrary  to  the 
law  of  offer  and  demand,  Mr.  Clay,  and  it 
never  has  happened,  and  it  never  will  hap- 
pen, and  that  is  why  it  is  told." 

Mr.  Clay  was  so  upset,  puzzled  and  angry 
that  he  could  not  speak.  He  was  angry  with 
Elishama,  because  he  felt  that  his  clerk  was 
taking  advantage  of  his  weakness,  and  was 
defying  his  authority.  But  he  was  upset 
and  puzzled  by  the  prophet  Isaiah,  who  was 
about  to  annihilate  his  whole  world,  and 
himself  with  it.  After  a  while  he  spoke.  His 
voice  was  harsh  and  grating,  but  as  firm  as 
when  he  was  giving  an  order  in  his  office. 

"If  this  story,"  he  said,  "has  never  hap- 
pened before,  I  shall  make  it  happen  now.  I 
do  not  like  pretense,  I  do  not  like  prophecies. 
I  like  facts.  I  shall  turn  this  piece  of  make- 
believe  into  solid  fact." 

The  old  man  when  he  had  spoken  was  a 
little  easier  at  heart.  He  felt  that  he  was  get- 


ting the  better  of  Elishama  and  the  prophet 
Isaiah. 

"The  story  shall  become  reality,"  he  said 
very  slowly.  "One  sailor  in  the  world  shall 
tell  it,  from  beginning  to  end  with  everything 
that  is  in  it,  as  it  has  actually,  from  begin- 
ning to  end,  happened  to  him." 

When  Elishama  walked  home  in  the 
morning  he  said  to  himself,  "Either  this  old 
man  is  going  mad,  and  nearing  his  end,  or 
otherwise  he  will  tomorrow  be  ashamed  of 
his  project  of  tonight,  he  will  want  to  forget 
it,  and  it  will  be  the  safest  thing  not  to  men- 
tion it  to  him  again." 

V 

Mr.  CLAY,  however,  was  not  ashamed.  His 
project  of  the  night  had  seized  hold  of  him. 
Next  midnight,  as  the  clock  struck,  he  took 
up  the  theme  and  said  to  Elishama,  "  Do  you 
think  that  I  can  no  longer  do  what  I  want  to 
do?" 

This  time  Elishama  did  not  contradict  Mr. 
Clay.  Hr  answered,  "No,  Mr.  Clay.  I  think 
you  can  do  whatever  you  want." 

Mr.  Clay  said,  "  I  want  the  story  which  I 
told  you  last  night  to  happen  in  real  life,  to 
real  people." 

"I  shall  see  to  it,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elish- 
ama. "Where  do  you  want  it  to  happen?" 


Gold  Standard 

Hit  Virainia  Mtrasit'r 

He  said  he  had  money.  (It  looked 
to  me 

Like  dandelion  heads  and  filaree!) 
But  it  bought  him  tomato  jam  on 
bread  — 

And  a  kiss  for  the  top  of  his  little 

cropped  head. 
And  no  transaction  was  ever 

resolved 
With  more  satisfaction  to  all 

involved. 


"  I  want  it  to  happen  here,"  said  Mr.  Clay, 
and  proudly  looked  round  his  big,  richly 
furnished  bedroom.  "In  my  house.  I  want 
to  be  present  myself,  and  to  see  it  all  with 
my  own  eyes.  I  want  to  pick  up  the  sailor 
myself,  in  the  street  by  the  harbor.  I  want  to 
dine  with  him  myself,  in  my  dining  room." 

"Yes,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elishama.  "And 
when  do  you  want  the  story  to  happen  to 
real  people?" 

"It  ought  to  be  done  quickly,"  said  Mr. 
Clay  after  a  pause.  "  It  will  involve  expenses. 
I  do  not  mind  what  they  may  come  to." 

These  words  gave  Elishama  such  an  im- 
pression of  cold  and  loneliness  in  the  old 
man  that  it  was  as  if  they  had  been  spoken 
from  the  grave.  But  since  he  himself  did  feel 
at  home  in  the  grave,  he  and  his  employer 
were  at  this  moment  brought  closer  together. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "it  is  going  to  cost  us 
some  money.  For  you  will  remember  that 
there  is  a  young  woman  in  the  story." 

"Yes,  a  woman,"  said  Mr.  Clay.  "The 
world  is  full  of  women.  A  young  woman  one 
can  always  buy,  and  that  will  be  the  cheap- 
est thing  in  the  story." 

"No,  Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elishama,  "it  will 
not  be  the  cheapest  thing  in  this  story.  For 
if  I  bring  you  a  woman  of  the  town,  the 
sailor  will  know  her  for  what  she  is.  And  he 
will  lose  his  faith  in  the  story." 

Mr.  Clay  growled  a  little. 

"And  a  young  miss  I  shall  not  be  able  to 
get  you,"  said  Elishama. 

"I  am  paying  you  to  do  this  work,"  said 
Mr.  Clay.  "It  will  be  part  of  your  work  to 
find  me  a  woman." 

"  I  shall  have  to  think  it  over,"  said  Elish- 
ama. 

But  he  had  already,  while  they  talked  to- 
gether, been  thinking  it  over.  As,  once  more, 


February,  1953 


he  walked  away  from  Mr.  Clay's  house,  he 
realized  that  from  this  moment  he  was  in- 
dispensable to  his  master,  and  could  get  out 
of  him  whatever  he  wanted.  He  did  not  in- 
tend to  derive  any  advantage  from  the  cir- 
cumstance, but  the  idea  pleased  him. 

In  Mr.  Clay's  office  there  was  a  young  ac- 
countant whose  name  was  Charley  Simpson. 
He  was  an  ambitious  young  man  and  had  re- 
solved to  become,  in  his  own  time,  a  million- 
aire and  nabob  like  Mr.  Clay  himself.  The 
big  ruddy  young  gentleman  considered  him- 
self to  be  Elishama's  only  friend,  treated  him' 
with  patronizing  joviality,  and  had  lately; 
honored  him  with  his  confidence. 

Charley  kept  a  mistress  in  town;  her  name 
was  Virginie.  Sl)e  was,  he  told  his  protege,  a 
Frenchwoman  of  very  good  family,  but 
had  been  ruined  by  her  amorous  tempera- 
ment and  now  lived  only  for  passion.  Vir- 
ginie wanted  a  French  shawl.  Her  lover 
meant  to  make  her  a  present  of  one,  but  he 
was  afraid  to  go  into  a  shop  to  buy  it,  as 
somebody  might  spot  him  there  and  report 
to  his  father  in  England.  If  Elishama  would 
take  a  collection  of  shawls  to  Virginia's 
house,  Charley  would  show  his  gratitude  by 
introducing  him  to  the  lady  herself. 

The  lovers  had  had  a  row  immediately  be- 1 
fore  Elishama's  arrival  with  the  shawls.  But  j 
the  sight  of  these  somewhat  appeased  Vir-| 
ginie.  She  draped  one  shawl  after  another 
round  her  fine  figure  before  the  looking  glass, 
as  if  the  men  had  not  been  in  the  room.  Over 
her  shoulder  she  told  her  lover  that  he  must 
now,  surely,  be  able  to  see  for  himself  that 
her  real  calling  was  the  theater.  If  she  could 
only  raise  the  money,  the  wisest  thing  she 
could  do  was  to  go  back  to  France.  There  the 
comedy,  the  drama  and  the  tragedy  still  ex- 
isted, and  the  great  actresses  were  the  idols 
of  a  nation ! 

Elishama  was  not  familiar  with  the  wor^  w 
comedy,  drama  and  tragedy.  But  an  instincif  i 
now  told  him  that  there  was  a  connection  be-  •  > 
tween  these  phenomena  and  Mr.  Clay'sstory. 
The  day  after  his  last  conversation  with  Mr. 
Clay  he  turned  his  steps  toward  Virginie's 
house. 

Elishama  within  his  nature  had  a  trait 
which  few  people  would  have  expected  to  find 
there.  He  felt  a  deep  innate  sympathy  or 
compassion  toward  all  women  of  this  world, 
and  particularly  toward  all  young  women. 

Although,  as  has  already  been  told,  he  did  tij 
not  himself  want  a  horse,  he  could  fix  to  a  ^ 
penny  the  price  of  any  horse  shown  him;  and  :ii 
although  he  did  not  himself  in  the  least  want  r  \ 
a  woman,  he  could  view  a  woman  with  the  tli 
eyes  of  other  young  men,  and  accurately  de-w 
termine  her  value.  Only  in  the  latter  case  he 
considered  the  eyes  of  other  young  men  to 
be  shortsighted  or  blind,  the  price  to  be|)J( 
erroneous,  and  the  article  itself  in  some  sad  " 
way  underestimated  and  wronged. 


VI 

Virginie  lived  in  a  small,  neat  Chinese 
house  with  a  little  garden  to  it  and  green 
shutters  to  the  windows.  The  old  Chinese 
woman  who  owned  the  house,  kept  it  in 
order  and  cooked  for  her  tenant  was  out 
today.  Elishama  found  the  door  open  and 
went  straight  in. 

Virginie  was  playing  patience  on  her  table 
by  the  window.  She  looked  up  and  said, "  Is  it 
you?  What  are  you  bringing?  Shawls?" 

"No,  Miss  Virginie,  I  am  bringing  nothing 
today,"  said  he. 

"What  is  the  useof  you,  then?"  she  asked 
"Sit  down  and  keep  me  company,  now  that 
you  are  here." 

Upon  this  invitation  he  sat  down. 

Virginie,  in  spite  of  her  venturesome  past,| 
was  still  young  and  fresh,  with  a  flowerlike! 
quality  in  her,  as  if  there  had  been  a  large 
rose  in  water  in  the  room.  She  was  dressed  in 
a  white  muslin  negligee  with  flounces  and  a 
train  to  it,  but  had  not  yet  done  up  her  rich 
brown  hair,  which  floated  down  to  the  pink 
sash  round  her  waist.  The  golden  afternoon 
sun  fell  between  the  shutters  into  her  lap. 

She  went  on  with  her  patience,  but  spoke 
the  while.  "Are  you  still  with  the  old  devil? " 

Elishama  said,  "He  is  ill  and  cannot  go 
out." 

"Good,"  said  Virginie.  "Is  he  going  to 
die?"         (Continued  on  Page  96) 


SCIENCE  REPORT 


More  years  of  useful  living 


One  of  the  most  disabling  afHictions  of  elderly  people  is  a 
form  of  arthritis  known  as  osteoarthritis.  Today,  for  the  first 
time  in  medical  history,  many  persons  suffering  from  this 
disease  can  look  with  real  hope  to  using  their  arms  and  tegs 
again  with  freedom  and  comfort.  In  nnnicrous  cases,  physi- 
cians are  able  to  relieve  the  pain  and  disability  of  arthritic 
joints  and  enable  patients  to  enjoy  a  moic  active  life. 

A  key  factor  in  this  progress  is  a  new  product,  Hydro- 
CoRTONE*,a  close  relative  of  Cortone.  Like  Cortone,  it  was 
developed  in  the  Merck  Research  Laboratories,  and  now  is 
being  made  available  to  physicians  in  increasing  quantities. 

HydroCortone  and  Cortone  to  combat  arthritis  and  other 
afflictions  .  .  .  Antibiotics  to  subdue  infections  .  .  .  Vitamins 
for  buoyant  health . . .  these  are  direct  results  of  the  continuous 
Merck  program  of  research  and  production  devoted  to  helping 
physicians  conquer  disease  and  save  life. 


*HyDRoCoRTONE  is  the  registered  trade-mark 
of  Merck  &  Co.,  Inc.  for  its  brand  of  Hydro- 
cortisone. Cortone  is  the  registered  trade-mark 
of  Merck  &  Co.,  Inc.  for  its  brand  of  Cortisone. 


MERCK  &  CO.,  Inc 

Maniifaciuriyig  Chemists 

RAHWAY.  NEIW  JERSEY 
In  Canada:  MERCK  <£.  CO.  L  i  m  i  t  e  d  —  M  o  n  t  r  e  a  I 


96 


LADIES'       HOME       .1    ()    U    |{    ^    A  I. 


February,  J 


9 


f 


rainciscAii 


Stately  pattern  of  timeless  charm, 

ARCADIA  is  suited  to  traditional  and  to  modern 
decor.  Superb  design  and  color 
are  enriched  by  the  brilliant  lustre  and 

matchless  translucence  of  Franciscan  fine  China. 
Crafted  with  rare  perfection,  it  is 

elegant  for  formal  occasions;  durable  for  daily  use. 


Franciscan  fine  China 
and  Franciscan  Ware  by  Gladding,  McBean  &  Co.,  Los  Angeles,  Calif. 


(Continued  from  Page  i>4) 

"No,  Miss  Virginie."  said  Elishama.  "He 
is  even  strong  enough  to  make  up  new 
schemes.  With  your  permission,  I  am  now 
goinfi  to  tell  you  one  of  them." 

"  Well,  as  long  as  he  is  too  ill  to  go  out,  I 
can  stand  hearing  about  him."  said  Virginie. 

"Mr.  Clay,"  said  Elishama,  "has  heard  a 
story  told.  Fifty  years  ago— on  a  ship,  one 
night  off  the  cape— he  heard  a  story  told. 
Now  that  he  is  ill  and  cannot  sleep  at  night, 
he  has  been  pondering  this  story.  He  dislikes 
pretense,  he  dislikes  prophecies,  he  likes 
facts.  He  has  made  up  his  mind  to  have  the 
story  happen  in  real  life,  to  real  people.  He  is 
the  richest  man  in  Canton,  Miss  Virginie,  he 
must  have  what  he  wants.  Now  I  shall  tell 
you  the  story. 

"There  was  a  sailor,"  he  began,  "who 
went  ashore  from  his  ship  in  the  harbor  of  a 
big  town.  As  he  was  walking  in  a  street  near 
the  harbor,  a  carriage  with  two  fine  horses 
drove  up  to  him,  and  an  old  gentleman 
stepped  out  of  the  carriage  and  said.  'You 
are  a  rine-looking  sailor.  Do  you  want  to  earn 
five  guineas  tonight?'  When  the  sailor  said 
yes.  the  old  gentleman  drove  him  to  his 
house  and  gave  him  food  and  wine.  He  then, 
Miss  Virginie,  said  to  him,  '  I  am  a  merchant 
of  immense  wealth,  as  you  will  have  seen  for 
yourself,  but  I  am  all  alone  in  the  world. 
The  people  who,  when  I  die,  are  to  inherit  my 
fortune  are  all  silly  people,  continually  dis- 
turbing and  distressing  me.  I  have  taken  to 
myself  a  young  wife,  but  '" 

Here  Virginie  cut  short  Elishama's  tale. 
"  I  know  that  story.  It  happened  in  Singapore 
to  an  English  merchant  captain,  a  friend  of 
mine.  Has  he  been  telling  it  to  you  as  well?  " 

"No.  Miss  Virginie,"  said  Elishama.  "He 
has  not  told  it  to  me,  but  other  sailors  have 
told  it.  This  is  a  story  that  lives  on  the  ships, 
all  sailors  have  heard  it,  and  all  sailors  have 
told  it.  It  might  have  been  left  on  sea  and 
never  come  ashore,  if  it  had  not  been  that 
Mr.  Clay  cannot  sleep.  He  is  now  going  to 
make  it  happen  here  in  Canton,  in  order  that 
one  sailor  in  the  world  may  be  able  to  tell  it 
from  beginning  to  end,  exactly  as,  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  it  has  happened  to  him." 

"He  was  sure  to  go  mad  in  the  end,  with 
his  sins,"  said  Virginie.  "  If  now  he  wants  to 
play  a  comedy  with  the  devil,  it  is  a  matter 
between  the  two  of  them." 


"Yes,  a  comedy,"  said  Elishama.  "Ill 
forgotten  the  word.  Now  there  are  th 
people  in  Mr.  Clay's  comedy.  The  old  gen 
man  he  will  play  himself,  and  the  yot 
sailor  he  will  himself  find  in  a  street  by 
harbor.  But  if  an  English  merchant  capt 
has  told  you  this  story.  Miss  Virginie,  he ' 
have  told  you  that  besides  these  two  ther 
also  a  beautiful  young  lady  in  it.  On  I 
Clay's  behalf  I  am  now  looking  for  thisb& 
tiful  young  lady.  If  she  will  come  into  lis  i 
story,  and  finish  it  for  him,  Mr.  Clay  will^  i 
her  one  hundred  guineas."  1 

Virginie,  in  her  chair,  turned  toward  Elij-  ii| 
ama  and  laughed  to  his  face.  "What  is!l  i 
this?"  she  inquired. 

"It  is  a  comedy.  Miss  Virginie,"  said 
"A  drama  or  a  tragedy.  It  is  a  story." 

"The  old  man  has  got  strange  ideas  (Ij:! 
comedy."  said  Virginie.  "In  a  comedy 
actors  pretend  to  do  things,  to  kill  one 
other  or  to  die.  But  they  do  not  really  do ; 
of  these  things.  Indeed  your  master  is 
the  Emperor  Nero  of  Rome,  who,  to  am 
himself,  had  people  eaten  up  by  lions.  ]  t-l 
since  then  it  has  not  been  done,  and  tha  j 
a  long  time  ago."  i 

"Was  the  Emperor  Nero  very  riclj\ 
asked  Elishama. 

"Oh,  he  owned  all  the  world,"  said 
ginie. 

"And  were  his  comedies  good?"  he  ag^'i 
asked. 

"He  liked  them  himself,  I  suppose,"  ?i 
Virginie.  "But  who  would  he  nowadays H 
to  play  in  them?" 

"If  he  owned  all  the  world,  he  would 
people  to  play  in  them,"  said  he. 

Virginie  looked  hard  at  Elishama, 
dark  eyes  shining.  "I  suppose  that  nol 
could  insult  you,  even  if  they  tried  har( 

Elishama  thought  her  remark  over.  "N 
he  said,  "they  could  not.  Why  should  I(| 
them?" 

"And  if  I  told  you,"  she  said,  "to  get 
of  my  house,  you  would  just  go?" 

"Yes,  I  should  go,"  he  said.  "It  is  y 
house.  But  when  I  had  gone  you  would 
and  think  of  the  things  for  which  you  jil 
turned  me  out.  It  is  when  people  are 
their  own  thoughts  that  they  think  they 
being  insulted.  But  why  should  not  their  o 
thoughts  be  good  enough  for  other  peopl 
tell  them?" 


.JENNIFER 


ISABELLB  GROVER 


"Mommy  says  for  me  to  look  where  you've 
alreatlv  looketl.  daddy  —  and  we'll  find  il!" 


I.     V    II  I 


II  «»  \l  I 


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Vir^inie  kept  lfX)kinK  at  him.  Early  lh;ii 
sjinic  clay  she  had  been  so  furiouH  wilh  hi  r 
(It  sliny  that  she  hatl  iKrn  i)laiininK  Itj  throw 
herself  into  the  liarlxjr.  The  patience  had 
caliried  her  a  little.  Now  she  sudflenly  fell 
thai  she  and  lilishaina  were  alone  in  the 
house,  and  thai  he  did  not  have  it  in  him  lo 
repeal  I  heir  conversation  toanylxitly.  Under 
the  circiinistances  sl^e  minht  t;o  on  with  it. 

"  VVhal  do(-s  Mr.  C  lay  pay  you  for  cominn 
here  and  proijosinu  lliis  thinK  lo  me?"  she 
asked.  "Trenle  />ims  d'aTuml.  tt'esl-ce  l>us? 
C'esl  le  /yrix!"  When  Viruinie's  mind  moved 
in  hinh  spheres  she  thouuhl,  and  expressi  i 
herself,  in  French. 

Klishama,  who  s|5oke  French  well,  did  noi 
recognize  iier  (|uolalion,  but  imanined  thai 
she  was  mockinn  him  for  bein«  iKxirly  paitl  in 
Mr.  Clay's  service.  "Ntj,"  he  said.  "  1  am  iioi 
beinn  paid  for  this,  1  am  in  Mr.  Clay's  em- 
pkiy,  1  cannot  take  on  work  anywhere  biil 
wilh  him.  Hut  you.  Miss  Vir^inie.  you  can  ko 
wiierever  you  like." 

"Yes,  I  presume  so,"  said  Virninie. 

"Yes,  you  i)resume  so,"  said  Klishama, 
"and  you  have  \x-m  able  lo  no  wherever  you 
liked  all  your  life.  And  you  have  none  here. 
Miss  Virninie,  to  lliis  liouse." 

Virninie  blushed  deeply  wilh  an^er.  Inil  at 
tiie  same  Lime  she  once  more  felt,  and 
more  slronuly  liian  before,  that  the  two  were 
alone  in  Ihe  iiouse,  wilii  the  rest  of  the  woi 
shut  out. 

VII 

\  iKciNiic's  father  had  been  a  merchant  in 
Canton.  Mis  moLlo  in  life,  e^^;raved  in  his 
si.nnel  rinn,  had  been  "Poitrqiwi  pas?"  All 
Ihroutjh  his  Iwenly  years  in  China  his  heart 
had  slill  been  in  l-'rance,  and  Ihe  ureal  lliin.us 
jioin.i;  on  lliere  liad  lilied  and  moved  il. 

Al  the  lime  of  his  dealii  Viruinie  had  been 
twelve  years  old.  She  was  his  eldest  chikl  and 
his  favorite.  As  a  little  ^irl  she  was  as  lovely 
as  an  an^'cl.  the  i)roud  father  amused  himself 
taking  her  round  and  showing  her  off  lo  his 
friends,  and  in  a  few  years  she  had  seen  and 
learned  much.  In  S|)ain  lie  had  done  business 
with,  and  been  on  friendly  terms  willi,  a  very 
great  lady.  Ihe  Countess  de  Montijo,  Wlien 
later,  in  China,  he  learned  lhal  this  lady's 
daughter  had  married  the  Emj^eror  Napoleon 
III  and  become  Empress  of  Ihe  French,  he 
was  as  proud  and  pleased  as  if  he  liimself  had 
arranged  the  malch.  Wilh  him  Virginie  had 
for  many  years  lived  in  Ihe  grand  world  of 
Ihe  French  courl,  in  Ihe  vast  radianl  ball- 
rooms of  the  Tuileries,  among  receptions  of 
foreign  majesties,  courl  cabals,  romantic 
love  affairs,  duels  and  Ihe  waltzes  of  Slrauss. 

After  her  falher's  dealh  during  long  years 
of  poverty  and  hardship,  Virginie  had  se- 
cretly turned  lo  this  glorious  world  for  con- 
solation. She  still  walked  up  marble  stairs 
lighted  by  a  thousand  candles,  herself  all 
sparkling  with  diamonds,  to  dance  wilh 
princes  and  dukes— and  her  companions  of  a 
lonely,  monotonous  existence  in  dreary  rooms 
wondered  at  the  girl's  pluck.  In  the  end,  how- 
ever, the  Tuileries  themselves  had  vanished. 

Even  when  the  father  had  endeavored  to 
engraft  moral  principles  on  the  daughter's 
young  mind  he  had  illustrated  them  with 
little  anecdotes  from  the  imperial  court.  One 
of  them  had  impressed  itself  deeply  in  the 
little  girl's  heart.  The  lovely  Mile,  de  Mon- 
tijo had  informed  the  Emperor  Napoleon 
that  the  only  way  lo  her  bedroom  ran 
through  the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame.  Vir- 
ginie was  familiar  with  the  Cathedral  of 
Notre  Dame— a  big  engraving  of  it  hung  in 
her  parents'  drawing  room.  She  had  pic- 
tured lo  herself  a  bedroom  of  corresponding 
dimensions,  and  in  the  middle  of  it  the  lovely 
Mile.  Virginie,  all  in  lace.  The  vision  many 
times  had  warmed  and  cheered  her  heart. 

Alas,  the  way  to  her  bedroom  had  not  run 
through  the  Cathedral  of  Noire  Dame!  It 
had  not  even  run  through  the  little  gray 
French  church  of  Canton.  Lately  it  had  run. 
without  much  of  a  detour,  from  the  otTices 
and  count inghouses  of  the  town.  For  this 
reason  Virginie  despised  the  men  who  had 
come  by  it. 

One  triumph  she  had  had  in  her  career  of 
disappointments,  but  nobody  but  herself 
knew  of  il. 

Her  first  lover  had  been  an  English  mer- 
chant captain,  who  had  made  her  run  away 


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U.S.  and  Canada 


with  him  to  Japan,  just  then  opened  to  for- 
eign trade.  On  the  couple's  very  first  night  in 
Japan  there  was  an  earthquake.  All  round 
their  little  hotel  houses  cracked  and  tum- 
bled down  and  more  than  a  hundred  people 
were  killed.  Virginie  that  night  had  experi- 
enced something  besides  terror— she  had 
lived  through  the  great  moment  of  her  life 
The  thundering  roar  from  heaven  was  di- 
rected against  her  personally,  the  earth 
shook  and  trembled  at  the  loss  of  her  inno- 
cence, the  mighty  breakers  of  the  sea  be- 
wailed Virginie's  fall !  Frivolous  human  be- 
ings only— her  lover  with  them— within  this 
hour  ignored  the  law  of  cause  and  effect  and 
failed  to  realize  the  extent  of  her  ruin. 

Virginie  had  a  good  deal  of  kindness  in  her 
nature.  She  might  have  put  up  with  her 
present  lover,  Elishama's  friend,  if  she  could 
have  made  him  see  their  liaison  such  as  she 
herself  saw  it— as  two  lonely  people's  at- 
tempt to  make,  in  an  unpretentious  bourgeois 
way  and  by  means  of  a  little  mutual  gentle- 
ness, the  best  of  a  sorry  world.  But  Charley 
was  an  ambitious  young  man  who  liked  to  see 
himself  as  a  man  of  fashion  and  his  mistress 
as  a  great  demimondaine.  His  mistress,  who 
knew  the  real  meaning  of  the  word,  in  their 
daily  life  together  was  tried  hard  by  this 
vanity  of  his,  and 
it  lay  at  the  root  of 
most  of  their  quar- 
rels. 

Now  she  sat  and 
listened  to  Elish- 
ama,  with  her  arms 
folded,  and  her  lus- 
trous eyes  half 
closed,  like  a  cat 
watching  a  mouse. 

"Mr  Clay,"  said 
the  young  man,  "is 
prepared  to  pay  you 
a  hundred  guineas 
if,  on  a  night  ap- 
pointed by  him,  you 
will  come  to  liis 
house.  This,  Miss 
Virginie  " 

"To  his  house!" 
cried  Virgmie  and 
looked  up  quite  be- 
wildered. 

"Yes,"  said  he. 
"To  his  house.  And 
this.    Miss  Vir- 


proud  of  my  small  feet ! "  She  lifted  her  skii 
a  little  and  looked  down  at  her  feet,  in  a  pa 
of  old  slippers.  "The  Empress  of  Franc 
made  a  great  unexampled  career  for  hersel 
and  I  was  to  have  done  the  same.  And  tl; 
way  to  her  bedroom— you  can  have  it  a 
now,  you  can  have  it  all— the  way  to  her  bee 
room  ran  through  the  Cathedral  of  Not^ 
Dame!  Virginie,"  she  added  slowly, 
comprend,  en  ironie!" 

Now  there  was  a  long  silence. 

"Listen,  Miss  Virginie,"  said  Elisham^ 
"In  the  shawls  " 

"Shawls?"  she  repeated,  amazed. 

"Yes,  in  the  shawls  that  I  brought  you,' 
he  continued,  "  there  was  a  pattern.  You  toi 
your  friend  Mr.  Simpson  that  you  liked  or 
pattern  better  than  another.  But  there  wj 
a  pattern  in  all  of  them." 

Virginie  had  a  taste  for  patterns;  one  <, 
the  things  for  which  she  despised  the  Englis- 
was  that  to  her  mind  they  had  no  patter 
in  their  lives.  She  frowned  a  little,  but  V 
Elishama  go  on. 


"Only,"  he  went  on,  "sometimes  the  line  W 


of  a  pattern  will  run  the  other  way  of  whe 
you  expect.  As  in  a  looking  glass." 

"As  in  a  looking  glass,"  she  repeate' 
slowly.  "As  in  a  looking  glass." 

"Yes,"  he  saie 


ginie  

Virginie  rose  from 
her  chair  so  violently 

that  it  tumbled  over,  and  struck  Elishama  in 
the  face  with  all  her  might. 

"His  house!"  slie  cried.  "Do  you  know 
what  house  that  is?  It  is  my  father's  house! 
I  played  in  it  when  I  was  a  little  girl ! " 

She  had  a  ring  on  her  finger;  when  she 
struck  him  it  scratched  Elishama's  face.  He 
wiped  off  a  drop  of  blood  and  looked  at  his 
fingers.  The  sight  of  blood  shed  by  her  hand 
put  Virginie  into  a  fury  beyond  words;  she 
walked  to  and  fro  in  the  room  so  that  her 
white  gown  swished  on  the  floor,  and  Elish- 
ama got  an  idea  of  the  drama.  She  sat 
down  on  a  chair,  got  up,  and  sat  down  on 
another. 

VIII 

"That  house,"  she  said  at  last,  "was  the 
only  thing  left  me  from  the  time  when  I  was 
a  rich,  pretty  and  innocent  girl.  Every  time 
that  I  have  since  then  walked  past  it  I  have 
dreamt  of  how  I  was  to  enter  it  once  more ! " 
She  caught  at  her  breath  as  she  spoke,  white 
spots  sprang  out  on  her  face. 

"So  you  are  to  enter  it  now.  Miss  Vir- 
ginie," said  Elishama.  "So  is.  Miss  Virginie, 
the  young  lady  of  Mr.  Clay's  story  rich, 
pretty  and  innocent." 

Virginie  stared  at  him  as  if  she  did  not  see 
him  at  all;  in  reality  she  saw  him  quite  small, 
the  size  of  a  doll. 

She  looked  away,  then  back  at  him.  "You 
may  hear  it  all  now,"  she  said.  "My  father 
and  I  used  to  talk— in  that  house— of  great, 
splendid,  noble  things !  The  Empress  Eugenie 
of  France  wore  her  white  satin  shoes  one 
single  time  only,  then  made  a  present  of  them 
to  the  convent  schools  for  the  little  girls  there 
to  wear  at  their  first  communion!  I  was  to 
have  done  the  same  thing— for  papa  was 


Next  Month 

"It's  a  fake.  Vm  not  engaged.  Vve 
never  even  heard  of  a  girl  named 
Helga  de  BrulaisF^ 

BUT  the  papers  had  carried  the 
aiiiiouiiceinent,  and  no  one  be- 
lieved Paul.  He  was  obviously 
ashamed  of  this  girl— a  girl  who 
lived  on  a  shabby  street,  and  whose 
mother  was  a  fortuneteller.  To 
make  it  worse,  he  could  find  no 
trace  of  her  .  .  .  and  he  had  so  little 
time  left  on  this,  his 

JOURNEY'S  EVE 

By  Elizabeth  Cadell 

Complete  in  the  March  Journal, 
condensed  from  the  novel  to  be 
published  by  William  Morrow  & 
Company. 


,!!  pi 
Liefl 


"But  for  all  that  5 
is  still  a  pattern."i 
This  time  sh. 
looked  at  him  in  s. 
lence. 

"You  told  me,^ 
he  said,  "that  tli 
Emperor  of  Rom, 
owned  all  the  worl( 
So  does  Mr.  Cla 
own  Canton  and  th 
people  of  Canton.j 
Except  myself,  h 
thought.  "Mr. Cla; 
and  other  rich  mei 
chants  likehim,ow| 
it.  If  you  look  oi 
into  the  street  yo 
will  see  many  hur 
dred  people  goin 
north  and  soutl 
east  and  west.  Ho' 
manyof  them  woul 
be  going  at  all, 
they  had  not  bee 
told  to  do  so  b; 
other  people?  An 
the  people  who  hav 
told  them,  MissVii 
ginie,  are  Mr.  Clay  and  other  rich  merchant 
like  him.  Now  he  has  told  you  to  go  to  hi 
house,  and  you  will  have  to  go." 
"No,"  said  Virginie. 

Elishama  waited  a  moment,  but  as  Viis 
ginie  said  no  more  he  went  on. 

"What  Mr.  Clay  tells  people  to  do,"  h 
said,  "that  is  what  matters.  You  struck  m 
a  little  while  ago,  you  tremble  now,  becaus 
of  what  he  told  you  to  do.  It  matters  ver 
little  in  comparison  whether  you  do  go 
not." 

"It  was  you  who  told  me,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  because  he  told  me  to  do  so,"  sai( 
Elishama. 

There  was  another  pause. 

"The  way  of  which  you  spoke,"  said  Elisk 
ama,  "which  ran  through  the  Cathedra 
of  Notre  Dame— it  is  in  this  pattern.  Only  ii' 
this  pattern  it  is  reversed." 

Virginie  said,  "Reversed?" 

"Yes,"  said  Elishama.  "Reversed.  In  thii 
pattern  the  road  runs  the  other  way.  Anc'| 
runs  on." 

The  strange  sweetness  of  his  voice,  agains; 
her  own  will,  caught  Virginie's  ear. 

"You  will  make  a  career  for  yourself.  Mis; 
Virginie,"  said  Elishama,  "no  less  than  th( 
Empress  of  France.  Only  it  runs  the  othei 
way.  And  why  riot.  Miss  Virginie?" 

Virginie,  after  a  minute,  asked,  "Did  yoi 
know  my  father? " 

"No,  I  did  not  know  him,"  said  Elishama f Mi 

"Then,"  she  asked  again,  "from  where  dc, 
you  know  that  the  pattern  of  which  yov 
speak  does  run  in  my  family,  and  that  there 
it  is  called  a  tradition?" 

Elishama  did  not  answer  her,  because  h£ 
did  not  know  the  meaning  of  the  word. 


(IT, 
LD 
rest 


iitii 


(r\^  ^    ^        girls  has  discovered 
^/rUi^  this  wonderful  complexion  secrel'... 


\  I)  I  I 


ise  the  deodorant  with 

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<ing  perspiration  — stopping  odorl 

iuse  only  Odo-Ro-No  has  this  new 
ion-Proof"  formula!  Vastly  superior  to 
hing  you've 
used  before ! 

Odo-Ro-No 

y  and  be 

ident  of 
jlete  24-hour 
sction  — no 
er  bow  active 
are! 

eople  on-the-go  use 

)DORO-DO 


SITIVELY 


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Prove  it  to  yourself.  Send 
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for    generous  introduc- 


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)nderful  New 
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ses  Mistakes  of  The  Past! 


It  isn't  often 
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the  opportunity 
to  erase  the  mis- 
takes of  the  past. 


But  that's 
you  get  with 
JRIELEEN 
ITALIZING 
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restores  all  of 
latural  beauty 
iur  hair. 


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Afli  r  anotliL-r  minute  he  siiid  very  slowly, 
"And  Iwinqudi  />a.s?" 

She  (luriK  hack  her  liair,  raised  her  head, 
and  sal  behind  lier  table  lii<e  a  Siiieswoiiiaii 
bchmd  iier  desk.  "Tell  Mr.  C  lay  froin  me," 
slic  said,  "lhat  I  will  not  come  for  tlie  prin- 
wliicii  lie  has  offered  me.  Hut  thai  I  shall 
<:ome  for  the  price  of  three  hundred  guineas. 
Thai,  if  you  like,  is  a  palterii.  Or  in  hucIi 
terms  as  Mr.  Clay  will  understand  il  is  an 
old  debt." 

"Is  lliat  your  last  word,  Miss  Viri'inici' " 
lie  asked. 

"  Yes,"  said  Virninie. 

"Your  very  last  word?"  he  asked  a^ain. 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

"Tiien,  if  il  is  so,"  he  said,  "I  shall  now 
iiand  you  over  three  hundred  nuineas."  lie 
look  up  his  wallet  and  laid  Ihe  notes  on  Die 
table. 

Vir^inie  swept  the  notes  and  the  playin^; 
cards,  all  loKelher,  into  Ihe  drawer  of  Ihe 
lable.  She  was  nol  noinn  lo  |)Iay  any  more 
l)alience  today. 

"How  do  you  know,"  she  said  and  l(X)ked 
F:iishama  in  the  face,  "lhat  I  shall  not  sel 
fire  lo  Ihe  house  in  the  morning,  before  I 
leave  il  attain,  and  burn  your  master  in  il?" 

I^lishama  had  been  alK)ul  lo  no;  now  he 
sl(X)d  still.  "I  siiall  tell  you  one  Ihin^;  before 
I  no,"  said  he.  "'Miis  slory  is  the  end  of  Mr. 
Clay." 

"Do  you  believe  thai  he  is  Koinn  lo  die 
with  malice?"  asked  Vir>iinie. 

"No,"  said  he.  "No,  I  cannot  lell.  Hut 
one  way  or  another,  il  will  be  liie  end  of  liim. 
No  man  in  the  world,  nol  the  richest  man 
within  il,  can  lake  a  story  whicii  jK'ople 
have  invented  and  told  and  make  il  happen." 

"How  do  you  know?"  site  asked. 

He  waited  a  moment.  "If  you  add  up  a 
column  of  figures,"  he  said  slowly,  "you 
begin  from  your  right-hand  side,  with  the 
lowest  figures,  and  move  left,  lo  the  lens, 
the  hundreds,  the  thousands  and  the  ten 
thousands.  But  if  a  man  look  il  into  his  head 
lo  add  up  a  column  the  other  way.  from  the 
left,  what  would  he  find?  He  would  find  thai 
his  total  would  come  out  wrong,  and  lhat  his 
account  books  would  be  worth  nothing.  Mr. 
Clay's  total  will  come  out  wrong,  and  his 
books  will  be  worth  nothing.  And  what  will 
Mr.  Clay  do  without  his  bcx)ks?  It  is  not  a 
good  thing  to  me  myself.  Miss  Virginie;  I 
have  been  in  his  employ  for  seven  years,  and 
I  shall  now  lose  my  situation.  But  there  is  no 
gelling  away  from  it."  This  was  the  first 
time  lhat  Elishama  did  ever  speak  confi- 
dentially about  his  master  to  a  third  party. 

"Where  are  you  going  now?"  Virginie 
asked  him. 

"Me?"  he  said,  surprised  that  anybody 
should  take  an  interest  in  his  movements. 
"I  am  going  home  now  lo  my  own  room." 
Elishama  gave  her  a  quick  deep  glance  from 
his  veiled  eyes  and  walked  away. 

IX 

On  the  night  which  Mr.  Clay  had  destined 
for  his  story  to  materialize,  the  full  moon 
shone  down  upon  the  city  of  Canton  and  the 
China  Sea.  It  was  an  April  night,  the  air  was 
warm  and  sweet.  The  oleander  bushes  in  Mr. 
Clay's  garden  looked  almost  colorless  in  the 
moonlight,  the  wheels  of  his  victoria  made 
but  a  low  whisper  on  the  gravel  of  his  drive. 

Mr.  Clay  with  much  trouble  had  been 
dressed  and  got  into  his  carriage.  Now  he  sat 
in  it  gravely,  erect  against  the  silk  upholster- 
ing, in  a  black  cloak  and  with  a  London  top 
hat  on  his  head.  On  the  smaller  seat  opposite 
to  him  Elishama,  cutting  a  less  magnificent 
figure,  silently  watched  his  master's  face. 
This  dying  man  was  driving  out  lo  manifest 
his  omnipotence,  and  to  do  the  thing  that 
could  not  be  done. 

They  passed  from  the  rich  quarter  of  the 
town,  with  its  villas  and  gardens,  down  into 
the  streets  by  the  harbor,  where  many  people 
were  about  and  the  air  was  filled  with  noises 
and  smells.  At  this  time  of  day  nobody  was 
in  a  hurry,  people  walked  about  leisurely  or 
stood  still  and  talked  together. 

A  lonely  sailor  came  walking  up  the  street, 
gazing  about  him,  and  Mr.  Clay  ordered 
Elishama  to  stop  the  carriage  and  accost 
him.  So  the  clerk  got  out  and  under  his  mas- 
ter's eye  addressed  the  stranger. 


She'i  wathing  her  fac«  .  .  .  Like  many 

Kirls  ami  wumtii,  she's  washing  with  soap 
and  w.itcr  in  the  or<iinary  way  — carelessly. 
If  tliat  s  what  you're  duiug  —  stiipl  You 
could  do  III  much  more  for  your  skin!  You 
should  knowPalrnolivc'scorn[>k-xion  sec  ret. 


Sh*'»  gelling  a  lovelier  complexion  .  . . 

Yes,  softer,  sinoidlicr,  in<;fc  r  i. 
By  cleansing  properly  with  Fali 

she's  doing  what  leading  skin    ,  '   (t 

have  proved  is  the  best  way  to  help  guard 

that  Schnol^irl  f  i i\u\>\rr\iin  l  or^k' 


100%  Mild  Palmolive  Soap  Helps  You  Guard  that 


Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan 
Is  Far  Better  For  Your  Skin  Than 
"Just  Average  Care"  With  Any 
Leading  Toilet  Soap! 

Yes,  Softer,  Smoother  Skin — that 
Schoolgirl  Complexion  Look — can 
easily  be  yours.  36  leading  skin  spe- 
cialists have  proved  it  in  actual  tests 
on  1285  women.  What's  more,  these 
doctors  found  that  Palmolive's 
Beauty  Plan  is  unquestionably  better 
for  your  skin  than  "just  average 


care"  with  any  leading  toilet  soap. 
Palmolive  is  one  soap  jKac  is  100* 
mild!  No  wonder  it  proviailsuch  ten- 
der care  for  babies'  skin,  for  your  skin. 

Change  to  Palmolive  and  its 

Beauty  Plan.  Massage  Palmolive's 
100%  mild,  pure  lather  onto  your 
skin  for  60  seconds,  3  times  a  day. 
Rinse  and  pat  dry.  In  14  days  or 
less,  you'll  have  a  softer,  fresher 
looking  skin!  You  need  no  other 
beauty  aid.  Let  100%  mild  Palmolive 
Soap  help  you  guard  that  Schoolgirl 
Complexion  Look! 


No  therapeutic  claim  is  made  for  clilorophyU. 


Nature's  Chlorophyll 


Is  In  Every  Cake  Of 
Palmolive  Soap  .  .  . 
That's  What  Makes 
Palmolive  Green  I 


700%  MMl  Doctors  Prove  Palmolive  Brings  Ouf  Beauty  While  h  Cleans  Your  Skin! 


all  useTampax 
of  course 


"Such  a  big  difference!" 

What  a  contrast  between 
Tampetx  a.nd  the  outside  kind 
of  sanitary  protection  you 
are  accustomed  to!  Tampax 
is  many  times  smaller  and  is 
worn  internally  and  therefore 
needs  no  belts,  pins  or  other  supports  to 
keep  it  in  place.  It's  perfect! 

"So  ingenious"  The  doctor 
wiio  invented  Tampax  cer- 
tainly gave  us  an  ingenious 
V(       'M  ?     product.  Pure  surgical  cot- 
H  I     ton  gives  reliable  absorption 

and  the  Tampax  comes  in 
slender  applicators  for  con- 
venient insertion.  You  can't  even  feel  the 
Tampax  when  in  place.  (And  disposal  is 
so  easy.) 

"Daintiness  plus"  There's 
no  odor  with  Tampax  be- 
cause it's  worn  internally. 
And  if_^you're  a  girl  who  is 
careful  about  her  silhouette 
(about  bulges  and  edge-lines 
i         "showing  through"  a  close- 
fittint;  ikirt  or  dress)  you'd  better  investi- 
gate Tampax  right  away. 

"Gives  me  confidence" 

Wearing  Tampax  gives  me 
greater  confidence  than  I've 
ever  had,  socially  and  at  my 
job.  I  don't  feel  conspicuous 
on  "those  days."  I  know  that 
"nobody  knows"  .  .  .  Sold 
at  drug  and  notion  counters  in  3  absorben- 
cies — Regular,  Super,  Junior.  Month's 
supply  goes  into  purse.  Look  for  Tampax 
Vendor  in  restrooms  throughout  the  United 
States.  Tampax  Incorporated,  Palmer,  Mass . 


Accepted  for  Adyertising 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 


TAMPAX  INCORPORATED 
Palmer,  Mass. 


LHJ-23-A 


Please  send  me  in  plain  wrapper  a  trial  package  of 
Tampax.  I  enclose  loi  (stamps  or  silver)  to  cover  cost 
of  mailing.  Size  is  checked  below. 


(     )  REGULAR 

Name  

Address  

City  


(    )  SUPER 


(     )  JUNIOR 


.  State_ 


"Good  evening,"  he  said.  "My  master,  in 
this  carriage,  requests  me  to  tell  you  that 
you  are  a  fine-looking  sailor.  He  asks  you 
whether  you  would  like  to  earn  five  guineas 
tonight." 

"What  is  that?"  said  the  sailor. 

Elishama  repeated  his  words. 

The  sailor  took  a  step  toward  the  carriage 
to  have  a  better  look  at  the  old  man  in  it, 
then  turned  to  Elishama.  "Say  that  again, 
will  you?"  he  said. 

As  Elishama  spoke  the  words  for  the  third 
time,  the  sailor's  mouth  fell  open.  Suddenly 
he  turned  round  and  walked  off  as  fast  as  he 
could,  he  took  the  first  turning  into  a  side 
street  and  disappeared. 

Upon  a  sign  from  Mr.  Clay  Elishama  got 
back  into  the  carriage,  and  ordered  the 
coachman  to  drive  on. 

A  little  farther  on,  a  square-built  young 
man  with  the  look  of  a  seaman  was  about  to 
cross  the  street,  and  had  to  stop  before  the 
carriage;  he  and  Mr.  Clay  looked  each  other 
in  the  face  even  before  it  halted.  Elishama 
once  more  got  out,  and  spoke  to  him  in  the 
same  words  as  to  the  first  sailor.  This  young 
man  obviously  came  from  a  public  house, 
and  was  somewhat  unsteady  on  his  legs.  He, 
too,  made  the  clerk  repeat  the  sentence  to 
him,  but  before  Elishama  had  finished  it  the 
second  time  he  burst  out  laughing  and  beat 
his  thigh. 

"  Why,  God  help  me ! "  he  cried  out.  "This, 
I  know,  is  what  happens  to  a  good-looking 
sailor  when  he  visits  the  landlubbers.  You 
need  not  say  any  more!  I  am  coming  with 
you.  old  master,  and  you  have  hit  on  the 
right  man  too." 

He  vaulted  into  the  carriage  by  Mr.  Clay's 
side,  stared  at  him,  at  Elishama  and  at  the 
coachman,  and  let  his  hand  run  along  the 
seat. 

"All  silk!"  he  cried  out,  laughing.  "All 
silk  and  softness!  And  more  to  come!" 

As  they  drove  on  he  began  to  whistle,  then 
took  off  his  cap  to  cool  his  head.  All  at  once 
he  clapped  both  hands  to  his  face  and  sat  like 
that  for  a  moment,  then  without  a  word 
jumped  out  of  the  carriage,  began  to  run, 
and  disappeared  into  a  side  street  just  as  the 
first  sailor  had  done. 

Mr.  Clay  made  the  carriage  turn  and  go 
back  along  the  same  street,  then  turn  once 
more  and  drive  back  slowly.  But  he  did  not 
stop  it  again.  He  said  nothing  during  the 
drive,  and  Elishama,  who  now  kept  his  eyes 
off  him,  began  to  wonder  if  they  were  to 
drive  like  this  all  night.  Then  suddenly  Mr. 
Clay  ordered  the  coachman  to  return  to  his 
house. 

They  had  already  got  out  of  the  narrow 
streets  near  the  harbor  and  on  to  the  road 
leading  to  Mr.  Clay's  house,  when  three 
young  sailors  came  straight  toward  them, 
arm  in  arm.  As  the  carriage  approached,  the 
two  at  the  sides  let  go  their  hold  of  the  one  in 
the  middle  and  ran  on,  leaving  the  last  one  in 
front  of  it. 

Mr.  Clay  stopped  the  carriage  and  held  up 
his  hand  to  Elishama.  "  I  will  get  out  myself 
this  time,"  he  said. 

Slowly  and  laboriously  he  descended  upon 
the  arm  of  his  clerk,  took  a  step  toward  the 
sailor,  stood  still  before  him  as  straight  as  a 
pillar.  "Good  evening,"  he  said.  "You  are  a 
fine-looking  sailor.  Do  you  want  to  earn  five 
guineas  tonight?" 

The  young  sailor  was  tall,  broad  and  large- 
limbed,  with  very  big  hands.  His  hair  was  so 
fair  and  stood  out  so  long  and  thick  round  his 
head  that  at  first  Elishama  believed  him  to 
have  on  a  white  fur  cap.  He  did  not  speak  or 
move,  but  looked  at  Mr.  Clay  quietly.  In  his 
right  hand  he  carried  a  big  bundle;  he  now 
shifted  it  over  to  the  left  and  began  to  rub 
his  free  hand  up  and  down  his  thigh  as  if  at 
the  next  moment  he  meant  to  strike  out  a 
blow.  But  instead  he  reached  out  and  took 
hold  of  Mr.  Clay's  hand. 

The  old  man  swallowed,  and  repeated  his 
proposal.  "You  are  a  fine-looking  sailor,  my 
young  friend,"  he  said.  "Do  you  want  to 
earn  five  guineas  tonight?  " 

The  boy  for  a  moment  thought  the  ques- 
tion over.  "Yes,"  he  said.  "I  want  to  earn 
five  guineas.  I  was  thinking  about  it  just  now, 
in  what  way  I  was  to  earn  five  guineas.  I  shall 
come  with  you,  old  gentleman."  He  spoke 


slowly,  with  a  stop  between  each  of  his 
phrases  and  with  a  quaint,  strong  accent. 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Clay,  "you  will  get  into 
my  carriage.  And  when  we  arrive  at  my 
house  I  shall  tell  you  more." 

The  sailor  set  down  his  bundle  on  the 
bottom  of  the  carriage,  but  did  not  get  in 
himself.  "No,"  he  said,  "your  cafriage  is  too 
fine.  My  clothes  are  all  dirty  and  tarred.  I 
shall  run  beside,  and  I  can  go  as  fast  as  you." 

He  placed  his  big  hand  on  the  mudguard, 
and  as  the  carriage  started  he  began  to  run. 
He  kept  pace  with  the  horses  all  the  way, 
and  when  they  stopped  at  the  door  of  Mr. 
Clay's  house  he  did  not  seem  to  be  much  out 
of  breath. 

Mr.  Clay's  Chinese  servants  came  out  to 
receive  their  master  and  to  help  him  out  of 
his  carriage  and  his  cloak,  and  the  butler,  a 
fat  and  bald  Chinese  dressed  in  silk,  ap- 
peared on  the  veranda  and  held  up  a  lantern 
on  a  long  pole.  In  the  golden  light  of  the  lamp 
Elishama  took  a  look  at  the  host  and  the 
guest. 

Mr.  Uay  had  strangely  come  to  life.  It  was 
as  if  the  young  runner  by  his  carriage  had 
made  his  own  old  blood  run  freer;  he  even 
had  a  faint  pink  in  his  cheeks.  He  was  satis- 
fied with  his  catch  out  of  the  harbor  of 
Canton.  And  very  likely  there  was  not  an- 
other fish  of  just  that  kind  to  be  caught  there. 

The  sailor  was  little  more  than  a  boy.  He 
had  a  broad  tanned  face  and  clear  light  blue 
eyes.  He  was  so  very  lean,  his  big  bones  show- 
ing wherever  his  clothes  did  not  cover  him, 
and  his  young  face  was  so  grave  that  there 
was  something  uncanny  about  him,  as  about 
a  man  come  from  a  dungeon.  He  was  poorly 

■■■■■■■■■■■■■ 

Jesus  was  the  first  great  teacher  of 
men  who  showed  a  genuine  sym- 
pathy for  childhood.  When  He  said, 
"Of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven," 
it  was  a  revelation.       — eggleston 


dressed,  in  a  blue  shirt  and  a  pair  of  canvas 
trousers,  with  bare  feet  in  his  old  shoes.  He 
lifted  his  bundle  from  the  carriage  and  slowly 
followed  the  butler  with  the  lantern  into  Mr. 
Clay's  house. 

X 

The  lighted  candles  upon  the  dinner  table, 
in  heavy  silver  candlesticks,  were  manifoldly 
reflected  in  the  gilt-framed  mirrors  on  the 
walls,  so  that  the  whole  long  room  glittered 
with  a  hundred  little  bright  flames.  The  table 
was  laid,  the  food  readyand  the  bottles  drawn. 

To  Elishama,  who  had  come  into  the  room 
last  and  had  sat  down  silently  on  a  chair  at 
one  end  of  it,  the  two  diners  and  the  servants 
waiting  on  them  all  looked  quite  small. 

Mr.  Clay  had  been  helped  into  his  pillow- 
filled  armchair  by  the  table,  and  here  sat  as 
erect  as  in  the  carriage.  But  the  young 
sailor,  slowly  gazing  round  him,  seemed 
afraid  to  touch  anything  in  the  room,  and  had 
had  to  be  invited  two  or  three  times  to  sit 
down  before  he  did  so. 

The  old  man  by  a  movement  of  his  hand 
told  his  butler  to  pour  out  wine  for  his  com- 
panion, watched  him  as  he  drank,  and  all 
through  the  meal  had  his  glass  refilled.  To 
keep  him  company  he  did  even,  against  his 
habit,  sip  a  little  wine  himself. 

The  first  glass  of  wine  had  a  quick  and 
strong  effect  on  the  boy.  As  he  put  down  the 
empty  glass  he  suddenly  blushed  so  deeply 
that  his  eyes  seemed  to  water  with  the  heat 
from  his  burning  cheeks. 

Mr.  Clay  in  his  armchair  drew  one  pro- 
found sigh  and  coughed  twice.  "Now,  my 
young  friend,"  he  said,  "I  am  going  to  tell 
why  I  have  fetched  you,  a  poor  sailor  boy, 
from  a  street  by  the  harbor.  Wait,  and  you 
shall  hear  all.  For  I  have  got  many  things 
to  tell  you." 

He  paused  a  little,  drew  in  his  breath,  and 
continued : 

"  I  am  a  rich  man,  I  am  the  richest  man  in 
Canton.  Some  of  the  wealth  which  in  the 
course  of  a  long  life  I  have  made  is  here  in  my 
house,  more  is  in  my  storehouses,  and  more 
even  is  on  the  rivers  and  on  the  sea.  My  name 


in  China  is  worth  more  money  than  you  ha' 
ever  heard  of.  When,  in  China  or  in  Englan 
they  name  me,  they  name  a  million  pounds 

Again  he  made  a  short  pause. 

Elishama  reflected  that  so  far  Mr.  CI; 
had  recorded  only  such  facts  as  had  be( 
long  stored  up  in  his  mind.  When,  howeve  ; 
Mr.  Clay  again  took  up  his  recount,  the  clei 
understood  that  he  had  on  his  mind  mo;i 
things  of  which  he  meant  to  clear  it.  Det: 
down  within  it  there  were  ideas,  perception!  " 
emotions  even,  of  which  he  had  never  spoke' 
and  of  which  he  could  never  have  spoken  \\ 
any  human  being  except  to  the  nameless  be 
before  him.  Elishama  began  to  realize  t\\ 
value  of  a  story,  or  a  comedy,  in  which  a  ma  | 
may  at  last  speak  the  truth. 

"A  million  pounds,"  Mr.  Clay  repeated 
"That  million  pounds  is  me  myself.  It  is  mi 
days  and  my  years,  it  is  my  brain  and  m 
heart,  it  is  my  life.  I  am  alone  with  it  in  th; 
house,  I  have  been  alone  with  it  for  man 
years,  and  I  have  been  happy  that  it  shoul 
be  so.  For  the  human  beings  whom  in  my  lil 
I  have  met  and  dealt  with  I  have  always  dis 
liked  and  despised.  I  have  allowed  few  c 
them  to  touch  my  hand,  I  have  allowed  non 
of  them  to  touch  my  money.  j 

"And  I  have  never,"  he  added  thoughts 
fully,  "like  other  rich  merchants,  dreada 
that  my  fortune  should  not  last  as  long  a 
myself.  For  I  have  always  known  how  to  keej 
it  tight,  and  how  to  make  it  multiply. 

"But  then  lately,"  he  went  on,  "I  havi 
comprehended  that  I  myself  shall  not  last  a' 
long  as  my  fortune.  The  moment  will  come^ 
it  is  approaching,  when  we  two  shall  have  t(- 
part,  when  one  half  of  me  must  go  and  thf 
other  half  live  on.  Where  and  with  whom 
then,  will  it  live  on?  Am  I  to  let  it  fall  intc 
the  hands  which  till  now  I  have  managed  tc 
keep  off  it,  to  be  fingered  and  meddled  with 
by  those  greedy  and  offensive  hands?  I 
would  as  soon  let  my  body  be  fingered  and 
meddled  with  by  them.  When  at  night  1 
think  of  it  I  cannot  sleep. 

"I  have  not  troubled,"  he  said,  "to  look 
for  a  hand  into  which  I  might  like  to  deliver] 
my  possessions,  for  I  know  that  no  such  hand 
exists  in  the  world.  But  it  has,  in  the  end, 
occurred  to  me  that  it  might  give  me  pleasure 
to  leave  them  in  a  hand  which  I  myself  had 
caused  to  exist. 

"Had  caused  to  exist,"  he  repeated  slowly. 
"Caused  to  exist,  and  called  forth.  As  I  have 
begotten  my  fortune,  my  million  pounds. 

"For  it  was  not  my  limbs  that  ached  in  the 
tea  fields,  in  the  mist  of  morning  and  the 
burning  heat  of  midday.  It  was  not  my  hand 
that  was  scorched  on  the  hot  iron  plates 
upon  which  the  tea  leaves  are  dried.  The 
starving  coolies  in  the  tea  fields,  the  dog- 
tired  seamen  on  the  middle  watch,  never 
knew  that  they  were  contributing  to  the 
making  of  a  million  pounds.  To  them  the 
minutes  only,  the  pain  in  their  hands,  the 
hail  showers  in  their  faces,  and  the  poor 
copper  coins  of  their  wages  had  real  existence. 
It  was  in  my  brain  and  by  my  will  that  this 
multitude  of  little  things  were  combined 
and  set  to  co-operate  to  produce  one  single  1 
thing:  a  million  pounds.  Have  I  not,  then, 
legally  begotten  it? 

"Thus,  in  combining  the  things  of  life  and 
by  making  them  co-operate  according  to  my 
will,  I  may  legally  beget  the  hand  into  which 
I  can  with  some  pleasure  leave  my  fortune, 
the  lasting  part  of  me." 

He  was  silent  for  a  long  time.  Then  he 
dipped  his  own  old,  skinny  hand  deep  into 
his  pocket,  drew  it  out  and  looked  at  it. 
"Have  you  ever  seen  gold?"  he  asked  the 
sailor. 

"No,"  said  the  boy.  "I  have  heard  of  it 
from  captains  and  supercargoes,  who  have 
seen  it.  But  I  have  not  seen  it  myself." 

"Hold  out  your  hand,"  said  Mr.  Clay. 

The  boy  held  out  his  big  hand.  On  the  back 
of  it  a  cross,  a  heart  and  an  anchor  were 
tattooed. 

"This,"  said  Mr.  Clay,  "is  a  five-guinea 
piece.  The  five  guineas  which  you  are  to  earn. 
It  is  gold." 

The  sailor  kept  the  coin  on  the  flat  of  his 
hand,  and  for  a  while  both  looked  at  it  con- 
cernedly. When  Mr.  Clay  took  his  eyes  off 
it  he  drank  a  little  wine. 

(Continued  on  Page  103) 


I)   I  i: 


H   o   \l  i; 


J    O    IJ    It     N    A  I. 


1  soothed 
my  husband 
Willi 


"Nobody 'd  ever  cull  Paul 
Douglas  a  meek  husband," 
Jan  Sterling  explains,  "and  he 
was  pretty  irate  at  the  'junk' 
I  picked  up  at  auctions  for  our 
new  house  . . .  that  is,  until  I 
showed  him  how  lovely  it 
was  underneath. 


"Then  he  broke  down  and  admitted  all  the  sanding  and  scraping  and  paint-removers  were  worth  while.  But,  oh,  what 
they  did  to  my  hands!  And  what  a  blissful  relief  it  was  afterwards  to  smooth  on  soothing,  pure,  white  Jeigens  Lotion! 


We  worked  like  beavers  getting  the  house 
;ttled  —  shoving  furniture  around,  unpacking 
arrels  filled  with  scratchy  excelsior.  Again  I 
lessed  Jergens  Lotion.  And  it  works  so  fast! 
ee  for  yourself  why:  Smooth  one  hand  witii 
uickly  absorbed  jergens  . . . 


"Apply  any  ordinary  lotion  or  cream  to 
the  other.  Then  wet  them.  Water  won't 
'bead*  on  the  hand  you've  smoothed  with 
wonderful  Jergens  Lotion  as  it  will  with 
oily  lotions  or  creams  that  just  coat  the  skin! 


"My  hands  are  always  soft  and  smooth  — 
ready  for  close-ups  with  my  favorite  lead- 
ing man."  No  wonder  Jergens  Lotion  is 
preferred  by  screen  stars  7  to  1.  So  quick 
and  easy  —  a  must  for  busy  people! 


Use  Jergens  Lotion  to  keep  tjoitr  hands 
lo\  ely,  too.  See  why  it's  the  liLmd  care  used 
by  more  women  than  any  other  in  the 
world.  Jergens  Lotion  only  costs  10^  to 
Sl.OO,  plus  ta-x. 


Remember  JERGENS  LOTION  .  .  .  because  you  care  for  your  hands! 


102 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  19$ 


Chlorodent 

gives  you  a 

Cleaner,  Fresher, 
Healthier  Mouth! 

proved  by  test. . . 
after  test. . .  after  test ! 


CLEANER! 

Proved  at  famous  university! 

University  dental  experts  made  395 
tests  with  white,  ailimoniated  and  chlo- 
rophyll toothpastes  .  .  .  found  that 
Chlorodent's  patented  cleansing  in- 
gredient kept  teeth  cleanest.  Chlorodent 
also  strikes  at  the  very  causes  of  tooth 
decay.  Use  it  regvdarly! 


FRESHER! 
Proved  at  leading  laboratory! 

In  nearly  1000  tests,  scientists  com- 
pared Chlorodent  with  a  nationally 
known  non -chlorophyll  toothpaste  for 
controlling  bad  breath.  Chlorodent's 
special  chlorophyll*  formula  gave  twice 
as  many  people  freedom  from  mouth 
odors  for  up  to  four  hours. 


HEALTHIER! 

Proved  at  Boys  Town/ 

Boys  Town  dentists  found  Chlorodent 
twice  as  effective  as  a  fine  white  tooth- 
paste for  quickly  reducing  acute  gin- 
givitis, a  widespread  mouth  disorder. 
Boys  Town  co-operated  in  this  research 
whoUy  in  the  interest  of  child  health. 
See  dentist  if  mouth  troubles  persist. 


Chlorodent  keeps  teeth  bright  and  sparkling! 


Chlorodent  destroys  mouth  odors  instantly! 


416  boys  took  part  in  this  research  project. 


Unconditionally  guaranteed  by  Lever  Brothers 
Company  to  do  more  for  you  than  any  other  dentifrice 
— white,  ammoniated  or  chlorophyll — to  give  you 
a  cleaner,  fresher,  healthier  mouth — or 
money  back. 


»walcr-soIuhlG 
clilorophyllins 


Also  in  tooth  powder 


As/i  for  CHLORODENT 
Worlds  Largest  Selling  Chlorophyll  Toothpaste 


{Continued  from  Page  100) 

"I  myself,"  he  said,  "am  hard,  I  am  dry. 
I  have  always  been  so,  and  I  would  not  have 
it  otherwise.  I  have  a  distaste  for  the  juices 
of  the  body.  I  do  not  like  the  sight  of  blood, 
I  cannot  drink  milk,  sweat  is  offensive  to  me, 
tears  disgust  me.  In  such  things  a  man's  be- 
ing, in  such  things  his  bones  themselves  are 
dissolved.  And  in  the  relationships  between 
people  which  they  name  fellowship,  friend- 
ship or  love,  a  man's  being,  his  bones  them- 
selves are  likewise  dissolved.  I  did  away  with 
my  partner  because  I  would  not  allow  him 
to  become  my  friend  and  dissolve  my  bones. 
But  gold,  my  young  sailor,  is  solid.  It  is  hard, 
it  is  proof  against  dissolution.  Gold,"  he  re- 
peated, a  shadow  of  a  smile  passing  over  his 
face,  "is  solvency. 

"You,"  he  went  on  after  a  pause,  "are  full 
of  the  juices  of  life.  You  have  blood  in  you; 
you  have,  I  suppose,  tears.  Gold  you  have 
tonight  seen  for  the  first  time.  I  can  use  you. 

"To  you,  tonight,  the  minutes  only,  the 
pleasure  of  your  body  and  the  five  guineas 
in  your  pocket  will  have  real  existence.  You 
will  not  be  aware  that  you  are  contributing 
to  a  worthy  piece  of  work  of  mine.  To  the 
fine  bafflement  of  my  relations  in  England, 
who  were  once  pleased  to  get  rid  of  me,  but 
who  have  now  for  twenty  years  been  on  the 
lookout  for  the  legacy  from  China.  May  they 
sleep  well  on  that." 

The  sailor  stuck  the  piece  of  gold  into  his 
pocket.  He  was  by  now  flushed  with  food 
and  wine.  Big  and  bony,  with  his  shaggy 
hair  and  shining  eyes,  he  looked  as  strong, 
greedy  and  lusty  as  a  bear  just  out  of  his 
winter  lair. 

"Say  no  more,  old  master,"  he  broke  out. 
"I  know  what  you  are  going  to  tell  me.  I 
have,  before  now,  heard  it  told  on  the  ships, 
every  word.  This,  I  know,  is  what  happens 
to  a  sailor  when  he  comes  ashore.  And  you, 
old  gentleman,  are  in  luck  tonight.  If  you 
want  a  strong,  hearty  sailor,  you  are  in  luck. 
You  will  find  none  stronger  on  any  ship.  Who 
stood  by  the  pumps  in  the  blizzard  off 
Lofoten  for  eleven  hours?  It  is  hard  on  you 
being  so  old  and  dry.  As  for  me,  I  shall  know 
well  enough  what  I  am  doing." 

Once  more  the  boy  suddenly  and  violently 
blushed  crimson.  He  broke  off  his  bragging 
and  was  silent  for  a  minute. 

"I  am  not,"  he  said,  "in  the  habit  of  talk- 
ing to  rich  old  people.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
old  master,  I  am  not  just  now  in  the  habit  of 
talking  to  anybody  at  all.  I  shall  tell  you  the 
whole  story.  A  fortnight  ago,  when  the 
schooner  Barracuda  picked  me  up  and  took 
me  on  board,  I  had  not  spoken  a  word  for  a 
whole  year.  For  a  year  ago,  by  the  middle  of 
March,  my  own  ship,  the  bark  Amelia  Scott, 
went  down  in  a  storm,  and  of  all  her  crew  I 
alone  was  cast  ashore  on  an  island.  There  was 
nobody  but  me  there.  It  is  not,  tonight,  more 
than  three  weeks  since  I  walked  there,  on  the 
beach  of  my  island.  There  were  many  sounds 
on  my  island,  but  no  one  ever  spoke.  I  my- 
self sang  a  song  there  sometimes.  But  I  never 
spoke." 

XI 

The  unexpected  strain  of  adventure  in  his 
sailor,  and  in  his  story,  came  agreeably  to 
Mr.  Clay.  "Ah,"  he  said,  "so  you  have 
starved,  slept  on  the  ground,  and  dressed  in 
rags  for  a  year?"  He  looked  proudly  round 
the  rich  room.  "Then  all  this  must  be  a 
change  to  you?" 

The  sailor  looked  round  too.  "Yes,"  he 
said.  "This  house  is  very  different  from  my 
island."  As  he  looked  back  at  the  old  man,  he 
stuck  his  hand  into  his  hair.  "And  that  is  why 
my  hair  is  so  long,"  he  said.  "  I  meant  to  have 
it  cut  tonight.  The  other  two  promised  to 
take  me  to  a  barber's  shop,  but  they  changed 
their  mind  and  were  going  to  take  me  to  the 
girls  instead.  It  was  good  luck  to  me  that  I 
did  not  get  there,  for  then  I  should  not  have 
met  you.  I  shall  soon  get  used  to  talking  to 
people  again.  I  have  talked  before,  I  am  not 
such  a  fool  as  I  look." 

"A  pleasant  thing,"  said  Mr.  Clay,  as  if 
to  himself.  "A  highly  pleasant  thing,  I  should 
say,  to  be  all  by  yourself  on  an  island,  where 
nobody  can  possibly  intrude  upon  you." 

"  It  was  good  in  many  ways,"  said  the  boy 
gravely.  "There  were  birds'  eggs  on  the 
beach,  and  I  fished  there  too.  I  had  my  knife 


""Sure  9$ 
you're  born 
you'll 

love  'em  toofi! 


You  trust  your  doctor...  and 
your  doctor  trusts  'Q-Tips'. 
Used  by  more  doctors  than  any 
other  prepared  swabs! 

Sterilized  right  in  the  package 
by  the  best  hospital  method. 

Safe.  Superfine  cotton  at  both 
ends.  Firmly  anchored  —  can't 
come  loose  or  leave  lint. 

Sure.  Correctly  shaped  appli- 
cator, sure  and  steady  in  the  hand. 


Best 

boudoir  news 
in  years! 


Mothers  are  discovering  that 
'Q-Tips'  are  a  wonderfully  smooth 
way  to  apply  make-up  and  cosmet- 
ics. Ideal  to  remove  nail  polish  and 
lipstick  smears  .  .  .  for  manicures, 
pedicures,  so  many  grooming  uses. 
For  beauty's  sake  and  baby's  sake 
—  make  it  'Q-Tips'.  At  drug  and 
department  stores. 


290, 49«  and  98;  pkg. 


The  original  cotton  swab 
. . .  in  the  famous  blue  box 


Q-TIPS  INC..  LONG  ISLAND  CITY.  N.  T, 


I)  I 


s  • 


II    ()    M  I 


I    <»  I 


lO.i 


iiic,  a  K<>''d  kiiifi^.  I  cut  a  mark  with  ii 
Im  bark  of  a  t)i^^  tree  each  time  thai  I 
'  I  he  new  moon.  I  had  cut  nine  marks, 

I  I  ^<)r^;()t  about  it,  and  there  were  two  or 
.  more  new  moons  before  the  Barracuda 
M  ;ili)nu." 

Mill  are  youn^^,"  said  Mr.  Clay.  "I  i)re- 
K  ilial  you  were  pk'ased  when  the  ship 

II  ;iad  t(H)k  you  (Kick  to  pe()|)k'." 

I  was  |)k'ased,"  said  llie  saik)r,  "for  one 
nil         I  had  nol  used  to  llie  iskind,  I 

I ,  nine  lo  think  lliat  I  was  to  remain  there 

WW  hfe." 

W  ere  llie  ni^;hls  lon^;?"  asked  Mr.  Clay. 
'  I  hey  were  as  lonn  as  the  days,"  answered 
•  sailor.  "The  day  came,  then  the  ninhl, 
•n  the  (lay.  The  one  was  as  lonn  as  the 
ler.  Not  like  in  my  own  country,  where  the 
;hts  are  short  in  summer  and  loii^;  in 
nter." 

"What  did  you  think  of  at  iiiKht?"  asked 
r.  Clay. 

"I  thouijhl  mostly  of  one  thiiiK,"  said  the 
ilor.  "1  tho  iiiht  about  a  boat.  Many  times 
also  dreamed  that  I  had  not  her,  that  I 
inched  lier  and  steered  her.  She  was  to  be  a 
«d,  stronj;,  seaworthy  boat,  iiul  she  need 
it  be  oi.u.  A  sloop  would  be  the  Ihini,'  for  me, 
111  tall  bulwarks.  The  stern  should  be  blue, 
id  I  should  carve  stars  round  the  cabin 
indows.  My  own  home  is  in  Marstal  in  Den- 
ark.  The  old  shiiibuilder  Lars  Jensen  Hay;er 
as  a  friend  of  my  father's,  he  iiukIU  help  me 
'  build  the  boat.  I  should  make  her  trade, 
ith  corn  from  Handholm  and  Skiilskor  to 
openhauon.  I  did  not  want  to  die  before  I 
1(1  ,i;ot  my  boat.  When  I  was  taken  up  by 
le  Barracuda.  I  thought  this  was  the  first 
it  of  my  way  to  her,  and 
lat  was  the  reason  I  was 
leaSL'd  then.  And  when 
met  you,  and  you  asked 
le  if  I  would  earn  five 
uineas,  I  knew  that  I  had 
een  ri^ht  to  come  away 
om  the  island.  And  that 
as  why  I  went  with  you." 
"You  are  young,"  said 
Ir.  Clay  again.  "Surely 
II  the  island  you  also 
lought  about  women?" 
The  boy  sat  silent  for  a  long  time  and 
)okcd  straight  in  front  of  him,  as  if  he  had  in 
;ality  forgotten  how  to  speak. 
"Yes,"  he  said.  "On  the  Amelia  Scott, 
nd  on  the  Barracuda,  too,  the  others  talked 
bout  their  girls.  I  know,  I  know  very  well 
hat  yo  1  are  paying  me  to  do  tonight.  I  am 
3  good  as  any  sailor.  You  will  have  no 
iason  lo  complain  of  me.  master.  Your  lady 
ere,  waiting  for  me,  will  have  no  reason  to 
amplain  of  me." 

Suddenly,  for  a  third  time,  the  blood 
jshed  to  his  face — it  sank  back,  mounted 
gain  and  kept  glowing  darkly  through  the 
in  of  his  cheeks.  He  st(X)d  up  from  his  chair, 
ill  and  broad  and  very  grave. 

"All  the  same,"  he  said  in  a  new,  deep 
Dice,  "  I  may  as  well  now  go  back  to  my  ship, 
ind  you,  my  old  gentleman,  will  take  on  an- 
ther sailor  for  your  job."  He  stuck  his  hand 
ito  his  pocket. 

The  faint  rosy  tinge  disappeared  from  Mr. 
^ay's  cheeks.  "No,"  he  said.  "No,  I  do  not 
'ant  you  to  go  back  to  your  ship.  You  have 
een  cast  on  a  desert  island,  you  have  not 
poken  to  a  human  being  for  a  year.  I  like 
3  think  of  that.  I  can  use  you.  I  shall  take  on 
o  other  sailor  for  my  job." 

Mr.  Clay's  guest  took  one  step  forward 
nd  there  looked  so  big  that  the  old  man  sud- 
enly  clenched  the  arms  of  the  chair  with  his 
ands.  He  had  before  now  been  threatened 
y  desperate  men,  and  had  beaten  them  off 
y  the  weight  of  his  wealth,  or  by  the  force 
f  his  cool  sharp  brain.  But  the  irate  creature 
efore  him  was  too  simple  to  give  in  to  any 
f  those  arguments.  He  might  have  stuck  his 
and  in  his  pocket  to  draw  out  the  good  knife 
f  which  he  had  just  spoken.  Was  it,  then,  a 
latter  of  life  and  death  to  make  a  story  come 
rue? 

The  sailor  took  from  his  pocket  the  gold 
oin  which  Mr.  Clay  had  given  him,  and  held 
L  toward  the  old  man.  "You  had  better  not 
ry  to  hold  me  back,"  he  said.  "  You  are  very 
lid,  you  have  but  little  strength  to  stand  up 
igainst  me.  Thank  you,  old  master,  for  the 


Every  woman  thinks  some 
other  woman's  husband  is 
a  mighty  patient  man. 

—JOHN  W.  RAPER: 

What  This  World  Needs 
(The  World  Publishing  Company) 


fo<jd  and  tiie  wine.  I  shall  now  u,o  back  lo  my 
ship.  (;(X)d  niKhl,  old  gentleman." 

Mr.  Ckiy  in  hi.s  slate  of  surprise  and  alarm 
could  speak  orJy  lowly  and  hoarsely,  but  lie 
S|X)ke.  "And  your  tx)al,  tny  line  youn^  sea- 
man," he  said.  "The  l)oal  which  is  lo  be  all 
your  own,  which  is  to  trade  with  corn  from 
your  own  place  lo  C^Jix-nhagen  ?  What  will 
she  be,  now  that  you  are  paying  back  your 
live  guint-as  and  going  away?  A  siory  only, 
which  you  have  been  telling  me  which  will 
never  come  lo  be  launched,  which  will  never 
come  lo  sail ! " 

After  a  moment  the  boy  put  the  com  back 
in  his  ixjcket. 

XII 

Win.  -K  the  nalx)b  and  the  sailor  boy  were 
entertaining  each  other  in  the  brilliantly 
ligliled  dining  room,  Virginie  in  the  la'dnxjm, 
where  tonight  all  candles  had  l>een  softly 
shaded  by  rose-colored  screens,  was  prepar- 
ing herself  for  her  own  part  in  Mr.  Clay's 
story. 

She  had  sent  away  the  lit  lie  Chinese  maid 
who  had  helped  her  lo  arrange  the  room  and 
adorn  it  with  such  objects  as  would  make  it 
illude  as  an  elegant  lady's  bedroom.  Two  or 
three  times  she  had  suddenly  stopped  the 
work  and  informed  the  girl  that  tliey  were 
lx)th  immediately  going  to  leave  the  house. 
Now  that  she  was  alone  she  no  longer  thought 
of  leaving. 

The  r(X)m  in  which  she  found  herself  had 
been  her  parents'  bedr(K)m,  where  on  Sunday 
mornings  the  children  were  let  in  to  play  in 
the  big  bed.  Her  father  and  mother,  who  for 
a  long  time  had  seemed  far  away,  were  with 
her  tonight.  Mysteriously,  to  them  as  to  her, 
this  night   would  bring 
about  the  final  judgment 
of  their  old  deadly  enemy; 
the  disgrace  and  humilia- 
tion of  their  daughter  pro- 
vided the  conclusive  evi- 
dence against  him.  The 
daughter,  according  to  her 
vow  of  kmg  ago,  would  not 
see  his  face  at  the  verdict, 
but  the  dead  father  and 
mother    were    there  to 
watch  it. 

The  ornaments  with  which  Virginie  had 
embellished  her  bedroom  of  one  night —  the 
figurines.  Chinese  fans  and  bouquets— were 
all  similar  to  those  she  remembered  from  her 
childhood.  A  few  bibelots  had  come  from  her 
own  house.  In  this  way  Virginie  had  joined 
her  gloomy  existence  of  the  last  ten  years 
with  her  gay  and  guiltless  past  of  long  ago. 

She  set  to  dress  and  adorn  her  own  person. 
Virginie  was  an  honest  person  in  money 
matters;  out  of  Mr.  Clay's  three  hundred 
guineas  she  had  conscientiously  purchased 
everything  belonging  to  her  role.  She  had  a 
weakness  for  lace,  and  was  at  this  moment 
floating  in  a  cloud  of  Valenciennes,  with  a 
coral  necklace  round  her  throat,  pearls  in  her 
ears  and  a  pair  of  pink  satin  slippers  on  her 
feet.  She  powdered  and  rouged  her  face, 
blackened  her  eyebrows  and  painted  her  full 
lips,  she  let  down  her  hair  in  rich  silky 
ringlets  over  her  smooth  shoulders,  and 
scented  her  neck,  arms  and  bosom.  When  all 
was  done,  she  gravely  went  up  to  one  after 
another  of  the  long  looking  glasses  in  the 
room. 

These  glasses  had  reflected  her  figure  as  a 
little  girl,  and  had  told  her,  then,  that  she 
was  pretty  and  graceful.  As  she  looked  into 
them  she  remembered  how,  at  the  age  of 
twelve,  she  had  entreated  them  to  show  her 
what  she  would  be  like  in  years  to  come,  as 
a  lady.  The  child,  she  felt,  could  never  have 
hoped  to  be  shown,  in  a  sweeter  or  rosier 
light,  a  lovelier,  a  more  elegant  and  be- 
witching lady.  Virginie's  love  of  the  dra- 
matic, inherited  from  her  father  and  encour- 
aged by  him,  came  to  her  aid  in  the  hour  of 
need.  If  she  was  not  what  she  appeared  to 
be,  neither  had  her  father's  business  trans- 
actions always  been  quite  what  they  ap- 
peared to  be. 

She  had  been  engrossed  in  the  thought  of 
her  enemy,  and  she  had  become  engrossed 
in  the  vision  of  herself.  It  was  not  till  she 
heard  steps  in  the  corridor  outside  that  she 
gave  any  thought  to  the  third  party  in  the 
(Continued  on  Page  105) 


Trust  Dorothy  Gray 

for  beaut}^  out  of  the  blue.. 

Dreams  are  realized,  hopes  of  beauty  fulfilled,  out  of 
the  blue  jars  and  bottles  that  bear  the  Dorothy  Gray  label. 
Because  the  creams  and  lotions  they  contain  are  personalized,  for 
individual  skin  types,  they  reward  you  far  in  excess 

of  the  few  delightful  minutes  you  devote  to  their  daily  use. 


FOR  NORM.AL  SKIN— use  Salon  Cold  Cream  S1.25  to  S4; 
Orange  Flower  Skin  Lotion  .SI  to  S.3.75; 
Special  Dry-Skin  Mixture  S2.25  and  S4. 

FOR  DRY  SKIN— use  Dry-Skin  Cleanser  81.25  to  S4; 
Orange  Flower  Skin  Lotion  -SI  to  .S3. 75;  and 
Special  Dry-Skin  Mixture  S2.25  and  34. 

FOR  OILY  SKIN — use  Liquefying  Cleansing  Cream  81  to  S4; 
Texture  Lotion  SI  to  S3. 75;  and  Suppling  Cream  81  and  82. 

FOR  COMBINATION  {part  dry,  part  o'dy)  SKIN— use 

Salon  Cold  Cream  SI. 25  to  84;  Texture  Lotion  81  to  83.75; 

and  Special  Dry-Skin  Mixture  82.25  and  84. 

All  prices  plus  tax. 


Trust  Dorothy  Gray... 

Americas  loveliest  women  do! 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February, 


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Til 


(CoHliiiiuul  Irtim  I'liuf  ID.ij 
II  \ .  Ikt  unknown  nut'sl  of  Hit;  niRlit.  Tlu-n 
,1  second  a  IiIUl-  cold  draft  of  conti'inpl 
Mr.  Clay's  iiircd  and  bribed  |)ii|)|)el  ran 
MMiuli  her  mind. 

W  lien  the  doorknob  liirned  siie  cast  down 
I  (  ves,  and  till,  a  K<)<>d  deal  later,  the  door 
,1    opened  and  siuit  a  second  time  she 
|ii  her  Khiiiw'  (ixed  upon  the  sheet.  But 
I  this  withdrawal   there  were  as  much 
icrjjy  and  vinor  as  in  any  direct  glance  of 
-:adly,  iincompromisiiiK  enmity. 
Mr.  Clay,  in  his  kmn  dressing  kowii  of 
eavy  Ciiinese  silk,  came  itilo  tiie  room  lean- 
iH  on  his  stick.  Two  resiK'ctful  sti'jjs  behind 
ini  a  bi^;,  blurred  shadow  slowly  crossed  the 
ireshoid. 

The  one  n'ass  of  wine  liiat  he  had  taken 
,;ilh  his  Kucst  iiad  acted  upon  the  invalid  of 
lany  sleepless  nights,  lie  had  also,  a  few 
linutes  a^o,  been  frightened  a  little,  and 
!tlu)U^;h  in  the  course  of  his  life  he  had 
riniitened  many  peoiile,  fear  to  himself  was 
rare  experience  and  mij^ht  well  stir  his 
)k)od  in  a  new  way.  But  the  old  man  was 
Irunk  with  a  still-stronger  liciuor.  For  to- 
lii^iit  he  was  moving  in  a  world  created  by 
lis  will  and  at  his  word. 

He  smiled  a  little,  he  was  a  little  bit  un- 
iteady  on  liis  ie.ns.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
ife  lie  was  imi)ressed  by  a  woman's  beauty, 
lie  jjazed  almost  happily  at  the  i;irl  in  the 
^ed.  whom  his  commandjiad  called  to  life. 
His  dolls  were  behaving  well.  The  iieroine  of 
Ills  story  was  jiink  and  white,  and  iier  down- 
cast eyes  bore  witness  to  alarmed  modesty. 
The  story  was  fetchinti  headway. 

This  was  the  moment,  Mr.  Clay  knew,  for 
the  old  gentleman's  speech.  He  remembered 
it.  word  for  word,  from  a  nit,'ht  fifty  years 
at;o.  Tonight,  however,  he  felt  migiity  enough 
to  disregard  even  the  conventions  of  the 
story  and  to  improvise  on  his  own. 

"You."  he  began,  poking  his  forefinger  at 
the  girl  in  the  bed,  "and  you"— without 
k)oking  at  him  he  poked  it  at  the  boy  — "are 
young.  You  are  in  fine  health,  your  limbs  do 
not  ache,  you  sleep  at  night.  And  because 
you  can  walk  and  move  without  pain,  you 
believe  that  you  are  walking  and  moving  ac- 
:ording  to  your  own  \vill.  But  it  is  not  so. 
Vou  walk  and  move  at  my  bidding.  You  are, 
in  reality,  two  young,  strong  and  lusty 
jumping  jacks  within  this  old  hand  of  mine." 

He  paused,  the  little  hard  smile  still  on 
lis  face. 

"So,"  he  went  on,  "so  are,  as  I  have  told 
>'0u,  all  people  jumping  jacks  in  a  hand 
stronger  than  their  own.  So  are,  as  I  have 
old  you,  the  poor  jumping  jacks  in  the 
lands  of  the  rich,  the  fools  of  this  earth  in 
he  hands  of  the  shrewd.  They  dance  and 
Irop  as  these  hands  pull  the  strings. 

"When  I  am  gone,"  he  finished,  "and 
vhen  you  two  are  left  to  yourselves,  and 
)elieve  that  you  are  following  the  command 
)f  your  own  young  blood  only,  you  will  still 
)e  doing  nothing,  nothing  at  all,  but  what  I 
lave  willed  you  to  do.  You  will  be  conforming 
0  the  plot  of  my  story.  For  tonight  this  room, 
his  bed,  you  yourselves  with  this  same  young 
lot  blood  in  you— it  is  all  nothing  but  a  story 
umed,  at  my  word,  into  reality." 

He  remained  standing  by  the  end  of  the 
)ed  for  another  minute,  hung  on  his  stick, 
rhen  with  fine  dignity  he  turned  his  back 
m  the  small  actors  upon  the  stage  of  his 
imnipotence. 

As  he  opened  the  door  Virginie  raised  her 
yes.  She  looked  straight  at  the  figure  of  her 
ather's  murderer,  and  saw  a  withdrawing 
nd  disappearing  figure.  Mr.  Clay's  long 
Chinese  dressing  gown  trailed  on  the  floor, 
nd  as  he  closed  the  door  behind  him  it  was 
aught  in  it— he  had  to  open  and  close  the 
loor  a  second  time. 

XIII 

room  remained  without  a  sound  or  a 
tir  till,  in  the  very  same  instant,  the  boy 
cx)k  two  long  steps  forward  and  Virginie,  in 
he  bed,  turned  her  head  and  looked  at  him. 

At  that  she  was  so  mortally  frightened 
hat  she  forgot  her  high  mission,  and  for  a 
loment  wished  herself  back  in  her  own 
ouse,  and  even  under  the  patronage,  such  as 
:  was,  of  Charley  Simpson.  For  the  figure  by 
he  end  of  the  bed  was  no  casual  sailor  out  of 


I       \      I)      I      I       S  II 

tlie  streets  of  Canton.  It  was  a  liiu;e  wild 
iimmal  brought  in  to  crush  her  iK-iiealh  Iniii. 

The  lK)y  stared  al  her,  iniiiioval)le  except 
l(;r  his  broarl  chest  slowly  gomK  up  and  down 
with  his  decj)  regular  breath.  Al  last  he  siiid, 
"I  believe  that  you  arc  the  most  lieaulifui 
girl  111  the  world."  Virginie  then  tuiw  thai  hIic 
had  to  do  wilii  a  child.  He  asked  her.  "How 
old  are  you?" 

Siie  could  not  lind  a  word  to  say.  WaH  il 
l)ossible,  now,  llial  her  great  dark  Irauedy 
was  to  be  turned  into  a  comedy  ? 

Tile  Ixiy  waited  for  an  answer,  then  asked 
iu  r  again,  "Are  you  seventeen?" 

"  Yes."  said  Virginie.  And  as  she  heard  iier 
own  voice  iironounce  the  word  her  face, 
turned  toward  him,  softened  a  little. 

"Tiien  you  and  1  are  the  same  age."  siiid 
the  l)oy. 

He  took  another  slow  ste|)  and  sal  down 
on  the  bed. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked. 

"Virginie."  she  answered. 

He  repealed  the  name  twice  and  sal  for 
some  time  looking  at  her.  Then  he  lay  down 
gently  beside  her  on  lop  of  tlie  ciuilt.  In  siiite 
of  his  size  he  was  light  and  easy  in  all  his 
movements.  She  heard  his  deep  breathing 


M  I 


J    •)  I 


I  (». 


The  Hawk 

Alone  in  the  wide  sky  I  saw  him 
pass 

And  for  a  little  space  no  creature 
stirred ; 

The  shadow  of  a  wing  across  the 

grass 
Stilled  every  bird. 

Upward  he  soars  beyond  the  last 
far  tree, 

At  a  small  secret  sign  life  lifts  and 
sings, 

Filling  the  day  again  with  melody 
And  flashing  wings. 


quicken,  break  off,  and  start  again  with  a 
faint  moan,  as  if  something  was  giving  way 
within  him.  They  lay  like  this  for  a  while. 

"I  h^ve  got  something  to  tell  you,"  he 
suddenly  broke  out  in  a  low  voice.  "I  have 
never  till  tonight  slept  with  a  girl.  I  have 
thought  of  it^  often.  I  have  meant  to  do  it. 
many  times.  But  I  have  never  done  it." 

He  was  silent  once  more,  waiting  to  hear 
what  she  would  say  to  this.  As  she  said  noth- 
ing, he  went  on. 

"It  was  not  all  my  own  fault."  he  said. 
"  I  have  been  away  for  a  long  time  in  a  place 
a  long  way  off,  where  there  were  no  girls." 

Again  he  stopped,  and  again  spoke.  "I 
have  never  told  the  others  on  the  boat,"  he 
said.  "Nor  my  friends  with  whom  I  came 
ashore  tonight.  But  I  thought  that  I  had 
better  tell  you." 

Against  her  will  Virginie  turned  her  face 
toward  him.  His  own  face,  quite  close  to  hers, 
was  all  aglow. 

"  When  I  was  in  the  place,  far  away  from 
here,  that  I  told  you  about."  he  went  on.  "I 
sometimes  fancied  that  I  had  a  girl  with  me, 
who  was  mine.  I  brought  her  bird's  eggs  and 
fish,  and  some  big  sweet  fruits  that  grew 
there,  but  of  which  I  do  not  know  the  name, 
and  she  was  kind  to  me.  We  slept  together 
in  a  cave  that  I  had  found  when  I  had  been 
in  the  place  for  three  months.  W'hen  the  full 
moon  rose  it  shone  into  it.  But  I  could  not 
think  of  a  name  for  her.  I  did  not  remember 
any  girl's  name.  .  .  .  Virginie,"  he  added  very 
slowly.  "Virginie."  And  once  more:  "Vir- 
ginie." 

All  at  once  he  lifted  the  quilt  and  the  sheet, 
and  slid  in  beneath  them.  Although  he  still 
kept  a  little  away  from  her  slie  sensed  his 


lj<»dy  liiere.  \}\v„  Huppleand  v- 1  >  youiiK  Afu-r 
a  tinu-  he  Hlrt  ii  hi  d  <iiii  his  hand  and  Ioik  Iml 
her.  Her  lace  ni^hiKown  luul  %\\\)\nt\  u|)  on 
her  le>{;  as  now  nlowly  ihc  Ixjy  put  out  hi» 
liand  II  met  her  rounded  naked  knee.  Jle 
Hiarled  a  little,  let  Iiih  lingers  run  Kently  over 
il,  then  withdrew  Iiih  hand  and  fell  hm  own 
lean  and  hard  knee  over. 

A  ni(jmem  later  VirKinie  cried  out  in  fear 
of  her  life,  "(iei  up.  we  must  kl-i  up!"  »l»e 
Hcreanied.  "There  ih  an  earilic|uake  do  you 
not  feel  Ihe  earllifjuake ! " 

"No."  the  l)oy  panted  low  into  her  face. 
"No.  Il  IH  nol  an  canhquakc.  It  lit  me." 

XIV 

UVllKN  at  last  he  fell  asleep  I  le  held  her 
close  to  him  as  in  a  vine,  with  Iiih  fact- 
bored  into  her  nhoulder.  brealhinK  deeply 
and  peacefully. 

Virginie.  who  had  lately  ihouglil  of  ho 
many  things,  lay  awake  but  a)uld  think  of 
nothing  in  the  world.  She  had  never  in  her 
life  fell  such  strength.  It  would  be  useli 
and  hopeless  for  her,  here,  to  try  lo  act  on  In  i 
own.  She  felt  his  mighty  grip  round  her  as  a 
hitherto  unknown  kind  of  reality,  which 
made  everything  else  seem  hollow  and 
falsified. 

In  the  middle  of  the  night  she  suddenly  re- 
membered things  which  her  mother  had  told 
her  about  her  own  people,  the  seafaring  men 
of  Brittany.  (Jld  French  s<jngs  of  the  sailor's 
dangers,  and  of  his  home-coming,  came  back 
to  her  as  on  their  own.  In  the  end.  from  far 
away,  came  the  sailor  wife's  cradle  sf>ng. 

When  in  the  course  of  the  night  the  tx^y 
woke  up,  he  behaved  with  the  girl  in  his  bed 
like  a  bear  with  a  honeycomb,  growling  over 
her  in  a  wild  state  of  greed  and  ecstasy.  A 
couple  of  times  they  talked  together. 

"On  the  ships,"  he  said,  "I  sometimes 
made  a  song." 

'■  What  were  your  songs  about  ? "  she  asked. 

"About  the  sea,"  he  answered.  "And  the 
life  of  the  sailors.  And  their  death." 

"Say  a  little  of  them  to  me."  said  she. 

After  a  moment  he  slowly  recited: 

"As  I  was  keeping  the  middle  watch. 
And  the  niahl  was  cold, 
Three  swans  flew  across  the  moon. 
Over  her  round  face  of  gold. 

"Gold."  he  repeated,  somewhat  uneasily. 
And  after  a  pause:  "A  five-guinea  piece  is 
like  the  moon.  And  then  not  at  all  like  her." 

"Did  you  make  other  songs?"  asked  Vir- 
ginie. who  did  not  understand  w-hat  he 
meant,  but  somehow  did  not  want  him  to  be 
worried. 

"Yes.  I  made  other  songs."  he  said. 
"About  my  boat." 

"Say  a  little  of  them  to  me,  then,"  she 
again  asked. 

Again  he  recited  slowly: 

"When  the  sky  is  brown, 
And  the  sea  yawns,  three  thousand  fathoms 
down, 

And  the  boat  runs  downward  like  a  whale. 
Still  Povl  Veiling  will  not  turn  pale." 

"Is  your  name  Paul,  then?"  she  asked. 

"  Yes,  Povl."  he  answered.  "  It  is  not  a  bad 
name.  My  father  was  named  Povl,  and  his 
father' too.  It  is  the  name  of  good  seamen, 
faithful  to  their  ship.  My  father  was  drowTied 
six  months  before  I  was  bom.  He  is  down 
there,  in  the  sea." 

"But  you  are  not  going  to  drown.  Paul?" 
she  said. 

"No,"  said  he.  "Maybe  not.  But  I  have 
many  times  wondered  what  my  father 
thought  of  when  the  sea  took  him  at  last, 
altogether." 

"Do  you  like  to  think  of  that  sort  of 
thing?"  she  asked,  somewhat  alarmed. 

He  thought  her  question  over.  "Yes."  he 
said.  "  It  is  good  to  think  of  the  storms  and 
the  high  sea.  It  is  not  bad  to  think  of  death." 

A  little  while  after  he  called  out.  in  a  sud- 
den, low  cry,  "  I  shall  have  to  go  back  to  my 
ship  as  soon  as  it  grows  light.  She  sails  in  the 
morning." 

At  these  words  a  keen,  deadly  pain  ran 
through  Virginia's  whole  body.  But  the  next 
moment  it  was  again  swallowed  up  in  his 


\0  t^'""""  "Ol^J 


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^  Guaranteed  by 
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Neiv 

CREAM  DEODORANT 

A  Product  of  Brittol-Mlfrs 


106 


LADIES' 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


February,  1953 


? 


WHAT 
NONSENSE ! 


In  two  sizes:  $1.50  and  82.75 

ALL  PRfCES  PLUS  TAX  (EXCEPT  VlTAMlNs) 

"Such  a  waste  of  money!  That  collection 
of  bottles  and  jars — whatever  did  you 
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"Here's  NEWS!  There's  all  you  need  for 
scientiBc  skin  care  in  one  single  cream — 
NEW  Ann  Delafield  All-Purpose  Deep 
Cream,  blended  to  my  personal  formula. 

"All  you  need  of  precious  oils,  esters, 
cholesterols — so  smoothing,  so  refresh- 
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to  deep-clean  your  face  each  night,  to 
deep-glow  your  face  every  morning,  to 
deep-lubricate  dry  skin  the  whole  night 
through.  And  no  nonsense !  No  hormones. 
No  mineral  oil.  Yes,  there's  all  you  need 
— in  one  single,  gold-topped  jar — the 
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Every  woman  knows  beauty  begins 
within !  Ann  Delafield's  answer — vita- 
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A  true  French  formula  pow- 
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oM  REXALL  dUj  Atom 


strength.  Soon  after  they  both  fell  asleep  in 
each  other's  arms. 

Virginie  woke  up  when  the  morning  showed 
in  gray  stripes  between  the  window  curtains. 
The  boy  had  loosened  his  grasp  of  her,  but 
was  still,  in  his  deep  sleep,  holding  on  to  her 
hand. 

The  moment  she  woke  she  was  gripped,  as 
in  a  strangle  hold,  by  one  single  thought. 
Never  before  had  one  thought  filled  her  so 
entirely,  to  the  exclusion  of  everything  else. 
When  he  sees  my  face  in  the  daylight,  she  re- 
flected, it  will  be  old,  powdered  and  rouged.  An 
aged,  wicked  woman's  face! 

She  watched  the  light  growing  stronger. 
She  had  ten  minutes  yet,  she  had  five  min- 
utes yet,  she  thought— her  heart  heavy, 
heavy  in  her  breast.  Time  was  up,  and  she 
called  his  name  twice. 

When  he  woke  she  told  him  that  he  must 
get  up  in  order  to  be  back  on  his  ship  before 
she  sailed.  He  did  not  answer  her,  but  clung 
to  her  hand,  and  in  a  while  pressed  it  to  his 
face,  moanmg. 

She  heard  a  bird  singing  in  the  garden  and 
said,  "Listen,  Paul,  there  is  a  bird  singing. 
The  candles  are  burned  out,  the  night  is 
over." 

Suddenly,  without  a  sound,  like  an  animal 
springing,  he  flung  himself  out  of  the  bed, 
seized  her,  and  lifted  her  up  with  him. 

"Come!"  he  cried.  "Come  with  me  away 
from  here! " 

His  voice  was  like  a  song,  like  a  storm,  it 
lifted  her  higher  than  his  arms. 

"  1  shall  take  you  with  me ! "  he  cried  again. 
"To  my  ship.  I  shall  hide  you  there,  in  the 
hold.  I  shall  take  you  home  with  me!" 

She  thrust  her  hands  against  his  chest  to 
get  away  from  him,  and  felt  it  going  up  and 
down  like  a  pair  of  bellows,  but  she  only 
made  him,  and  herself  within  his  embrace, 
sway  a  little,  like  a  tree  in  the  wind.  He 
tightened  his  hold  of  her,  raising  her  as  if  to 
throw  her  over  his  shoulder. 

"I  am  not  going  to  leave  you!"  he  sang 
out.  "I  am  not  going  to  let  anybody  in  the 
world  part  us.  .  .  .  What !  Now  that  you  are 
mine!  Never!  Never!  Never!" 

Virginie  at  this  moment  caught  sight  of 
their  two  dim  figures  in  one  of  the  looking 
glasses.  She  could  not  have  asked  for  a  more 
dramatic  scene.  The  boy  looked  super- 
humanly  big,  formidable  now,  like  an  en- 
raged bear,  risen  on  his  hind  legs,  and  swing- 
ing his  right  fore  limb  in  the  air— and  she 
herself,  with  her  long  hair  hanging  down, 
was  the  limp,  defenseless  prey  in  his  left 
arm.  Writhing,  she  managed  to  get  one  foot 
to  the  ground.  The  boy  felt  her  tremble;  he 
let  her  down,  but  still  held  her  close. 

"What  are  you  afraid  of?"  he  asked,  forc- 
ing her  face  up  toward  his  own.  "You  do  not 
believe  that  I  shall  let  anybody  take  you 
away  from  me!  You  are  coming  home  with 
me.  You  will  not  be  afraid  of  the  storms,  or 
the  blizzards,  or  the  big  waves,  when  I  am 
with  you.  You  will  never  be  afraid  in  Den- 
mark. There  we  shall  sleep  together  every 
night.  Like  tonight.  Like  tonight!" 

Virginie's  deadly  terror  had  nothing  to  do 
with  storms,  blizzards  or  big  waves— she  did 
not  even,  at  this  moment,  dread  death.  She 
feared  that  he  should  see  her  face  in  t\}e  light 
of  day.  She  dared  not  speak,  for  she  did  not 
feel  sure  of  herself,  and  might  say  anything. 
But  when  she  had  stood  on  both  feet  for  a 
minute  she  collected  her  whole  being  to  find 
a  way  of  escape. 

"You  cannot  do  that,"  she  said.  "He  has 
paid  you." 

"What?"  he  cried  out,  bewildered. 

"That  old  man  has  paid  you!"  she  re- 
peated. "He  has  paid  you  to  go  away  at 
dawn.  You  have  taken  his  money!" 

When  he  grasped  the  meaning  of  her  words 
his  face  grew  white  and  he  let  go  his  hold  of 
her  so  suddenly  that  she  swayed  on  her  feet. 

"Yes,"  he  said  slowly,  "he  has  paid  me. 
And  I  took  his  money.  But  at  that  time,"  he 
cried,  "I  did  not  know!" 

He  stared  into  the  air  before  him,  above 
her  head.  "I  have  promised  him!"  he  said 
heavily.  Letting  his  head  drop  upon  her 
shoulder,  he  buried  his  face  in  her  hair  and 
her  flesh.  "Oh!  Oh!  Oh!"  he  wailed. 

He  lifted  her,  carried  her  back  onto  the 
bed  and  sat  down  on  it  beside  her,  his  eyes 


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weatherstrippmg  keeps  out  the  cold 
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TROUBLE  WITH  CERTAIN  FOODS 


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I    \  I)  I  I 


II 


M  I 


\  I 


107 


iiscd.  Time  al'lci'  Imu'  he  r;iisf(l  Iut  iiiid 
I'sscd  Iut  body  lo  his  own,  tlien  laid  her 
wii  anain.  VirKinit-  was  calmer  as  Iomk  as 
i<ei)l  liiseyes  closed.  Siii'  looked  back  over 
cir  short  ac(|uainlance  to  liiu!  a  word  to 
y  to  hiin. 

"Voii  will  have  yoiii  boat,"  she  said  al 

St. 

After  a  Uhik  silence  he  said,  "^'es,  1  shall 
ive  the  boat."  And  a^ain  after  a  while. 
Was  that  what  you  saifl  that  I  shall  have 
loal?" 

Once  more  he  lilted  hei  and  held  her  for  a 
ing  time  in  his  arms.  "But  you!"  he  said. 
lUt  you?"  he  repeated,  slowly,  after  a 
omcnt.  "What  is  noinn  lo  hap|)en  (o  \'ou, 
hly  nirl?" 
Virjjinie  did  not  say  a  word. 
"Then  I  must         he  said,  "  I  must  .no 
ack  to  my  shii)."  lie  listened  and  added. 
There  is  a  bird  sin^;in,t;.  The  candles  are 
urned  out.  The  ni^;hl  is  over.  I  must  ^^o." 
;iit  he  did  not  no  till  a  little  later. 
"Cood-by,  Vir^inie,"  he  said.  "That  is 
our  natne    Viryinie.  I  shall  name  the  boat 
fter  you.  1  shall  .i;ive 
er  both  our  names 
'ovi  and  Virninie.She 
.  ill  sail  with  both  our 
anies  on   her,  up 
hrou^h  the  Stor- 
Iroem  and  the  Ba\' 
if  KoKc." 

"Will  you  remem- 
)er  me?"  Vir.u;inie 
isked. 

"Yes,"  the  sailor 
■.aid.  "Always,  all  my 
ife."  He  rose.  "I 
shall  think  of  you  all 
iiy  life,"  he  said. 
'How  would  I  not 
hink  of  you  in  my 
x)at  ?  I  shall  think  of 
vou  when  I  hoist  the 
iails  and  when  I  weijjh 
mchor.  And  when  I 
jast  anchor.  I  shall 
think  of  you  in  the 
inorninijs  when  I  hear 
the  birds  singing.  Of 
your  body,  of  your 
smell.  I  shall  never 
think  of  any  girl,  of 
no  other  girl  at  all. 
Because  you  are  the 
most  beautiful  girl  in 
the  world." 

Slie  followed  him 
to  the  door  and  put 
her  arms  round  his 
neck.  Here,  away 

from  the  window,  the  room  was  still  dark. 
Here  she  suddenly  heard  herself  weeping. 
But  I  have  one  minute  more,  she  thought,  as 
she  held  him  in  her  arms  and  they  kissed. 

"Look  at  me,"  she  begged  him.  "Look  at 
me,  Paul." 

Gravely,  he  looked  her  in  the  face. 

"Remember  my  face,"  she  said.  "Look  at 
my  face  well,  and  remember  it.  Remember 
that  I  am  seventeen.  Remember  that  I  have 
never  loved  anybody  till  I  met  you." 

"  I  shall  remember  it  all,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
never  forget  your  face." 

Clinging  to  him,  her  wet  face  lifted,  she 
felt  that  he  was  freeing  himself  of  her  arms. 
"Now  you  must  go,"  she  said. 

XV 

By  the  light  of  that  same  dawn  Elishama 
walked  up  Mr.  Clay's  graveled  drive  and 
entered  the  house,  in  order  to  be,  in  his  quiet 
way,  the  full  stop,  or  the  epilogue,  to  the 
story. 

In  the  long  dining  room  the  table  was  still 
laid,  and  there  was  still  a  little  wine  in  the 
glasses.  The  candles  were  burned  out,  only 
one  last  flame  flickered  on  its  candlestick. 

Mr.  Clay  was  there  still,  propped  up  with 
cushions  in  his  deep  armchair,  his  feet  on  a 
stool.  He  had  been  sitting  up,  waiting  for  the 
morning,  to  drink  off  at  sunrise  the  cup  of  his 
triumph.  But  the  night  had  tired  him  out. 

Elishama  stood  for  a  long  time,  immovable 
as  the  old  man  himself,  looking  at  him.  He 
had  never  till  now  seen  his  master  asleep, 
and  from  his  complaints  and  laments  had 


concluded  tli;il  he  should  never  si:e  him  so 
Well,  he  thoughl,  Mr.  Clay  had  been  riulii. 
he  had  struck  on  the  one  effective  remeds 
against  his  sulferinn.  The  realization  of  :i 
story  was  the  thing  to  set  a  man  at  rest, 

The  old  man's  eyes  were  slii'lilly  open, 
but  his  thin  lips  were  closed  in  a  little  wry 
snnle.  His  face  was  gray  like  Ihe  Umy  hands 
upon  his  knees.  His  dressing  gown  hung  in 
such  deep  folds  thai  there  hardly  seemed  lo 
be  a  body  in  it.  The  wlujk'  |)rou(l  anrl  rigid 
figure,  envied  and  feared  by  thousands,  this 
morning  looked  like  a  jumping  jack  when  I  he 
hand  which  has  pulled  the  strings  has 
suddenly  let  them  go. 

His  servant  and  confidant  sat  down  on 
chair,  listening  for  the  usual  whining  and 
snarling  in  the  old  man's  chest.  But  there 
was  not  a  sound  in  the  room.  Elishama  re- 
peated lo  himself  the  words  of  his  prophet: 
"And  sorrow  and  sifiliinn  sliull  /lee  away." 
For  a  Icmg  time  Mr.  Clay's  clerk  sat  with 
him,  meditating  upon  the  events  of  the  night . 
and  upon  human  conditions  in  general.  What 
had  happened,  he  asked  himself,  to  the  three 
peojile  who,  each  of 
them,  had  had  his  or 
her  role  in  Mr.  Clay's 
story?  Could  they  not 
have  done  without  it  ? 
It  was  hard,  he  re- 
flected,  as  he  had 
often  done  before,  it 
was  very  hard  on 
people  who  wanted 
things  so  badly  that 
they  could   not  do 
without  them.  If  they 
could  not  get  these 
things  it  was  hard, 
and  when  they  did  gel 
them,  surely  it  was 
very  hard. 

After  a  while  he 
wondered  whether  he 
were  to  wake  up  Mr. 
Clay  to  the  trium- 
phal end  of  his  story. 
But  again  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  wait 
a  little,  and  to  watch 
this  end  himself  first. 
He  silently  left  the 
silent  room. 

He  went  to  the  bed- 
room door,  and  as  he 
waited  outside  it  he 
heard  voices.  Two 
people  were  talking  at 
the  same  time.  What 
had  happened  to  those 


DOILY 

A  London  merchant  gave  his  name  to 
the  dolly,  or  table  napkin.  Said  to 
have  been  a  refugee  from  France, 
Doiiey  kept  a  linen  shop  in  the 
Strand,  London.  Many  rich  and 
fashionable  women  were  among  his 
customers.  For  them,  he  introduced  a 
number  of  new  fabrics  late  in  the 
seventeenth  century, 

A  thin  type  of  woolen,  light  enough 
for  summer  wear,  was  the  most  dis- 
tinctive of  Doiley's  innovations.  It 
was  also  the  most  popular,  for  it  was 
both  "cheap  and  genteel."  Known  as 
"doily,"  the  unusual  fabric  became  a 
favorite  throughout  England. 

Some  years  later,  the  elite  of  the 
nation  adopted  that  revolutionary 
device,  the  table  napkin.  Many  of 
them  cut  doily  into  small  pieces  for 
use  as  napkins,  which  were  purely 
ornamental  at  first.  They  won  a 
permanent  place  on  the  table,  how- 
ever, and  the  linen  draper's  name 
clung  to  them  after  his  fabric  was 
forgotten.  — webb  b.  garrison 


two  in  the  night,  and 
what  was  happening  to  them  now  ?  Someone 
was  weeping  inside  the  room,  the  voice  came 
to  the  listener's  ear  broken,  stifled  by  tears. 
Again  Elishama  quoted  to  himself  the  words 
of  Isaiah: 

"In  the  wilderness  shall  waters  break  out, 
and  streams  in  the  desert.  And  the  parched 
ground  shall  become  a  pool." 

A  little  later  the  door  was  opened,  two 
figures  were  embracing  and  clinging  to  each 
other  in  the  doorway.  Then  they  severed, 
the  one  sliding  back  and  disappearing,  the 
other  advancing  and  closing  the  door  behind 
him.  The  sailor  of  last  night  for  a  few  seconds 
stood  still  outside  the  door  and  gazed  round 
him,  then  moved  on. 

Elishama  took  a  step  forward.  He  was 
loyal  to  his  master  and  felt  that  he  ought  to 
get  the  attestation  of  Mr.  Clay's  victory 
from  the  boy's  own  lips. 

The  sailor  looked  at  him  gravely  and  said. 
"I  am  going  away.  I  am  going  back  to  my 
ship.  You  will  tell  the  old  man  that  I  have 
gone." 

Elishama  now  saw  that  he  had  been  mis- 
taken the  evening  before:  the  boy  was  not 
so  young  as  he  had  taken  him  to  be.  It  made 
but  little  difference— it  was  still  a  long  time 
till  he  would  be  as  old  as  Mr.  Clay,  peace- 
fully at  rest  in  his  armchair.  For  a  long  time 
yet  he  would  be  unsafe,  in  the  hands  of  the 
elements,  and  of  his  own  wants. 

The  clerk  took  upon  himself  to  settle  and 
balance  up  his  master's  concern.  "Now  you 
can  tell  the  story,"  he  said  to  the  boy. 

"What  story?"  the  boy  asked. 


New  "snoujq" 

the  powder  bleach 

that  safely  bleaches  fabrics  you 
toutd  never  bleach  before! 


A 


Now  for  the  first  time  science  makes  it  possible  to 


bleach  nvlon 
safely/ 


and 


rayon 


Is  your  nylon  and  rayon  lingerie  losing 
its  original  sparkle — taking  on  a  dull 
gray  film? 

Now,  at  last,  a  NEW  KIND  of  bleach 
lets  you  SAFELY,  gradually  whiten 
nylon  and  rayon,  fabrics  you  could  ne\er 
bleach  before.  It's  Gold  Seal's  "snowy"! 
The  new  powder  bleach  disco\'ery. 

Use  "snowy"  bleach  Every  Wash!  Moke 
Nylon,  Rayon  Whiter  With  Every  Bleaching! 

■"snowy's"  action — safe  and  gradLial  — 


SPECIAL  TRIAL  OFFER.  If  your  store  does  not 
hove  "snowy"  send  25c  to  Gold  Seal  Co., 
Bismarck^  N.  Dak.,  for  generous  trial  package. 


snouju 

■       ■  powderedHB 


continues  every  time  you  wash.  A  few 
bleachings  and  grayed  slips  and  blouses 
start  to  sparkle  again.  For  new  lingerie, 
use  "snowy"  from  the  first  wash  and 
ki'ep  that  new  look!  Gentle  "snowy" 
brightens  tub-fast  cw/or.s.  Wonderful  for 
bcihv's  things.  Smells  so  clean  and  fresh! 


"snowy" bleaches  with  3-Way Action: 

1.  Conditions  water. 

2.  Dissolves  gray  film. 

3.  Bleaches  gently,  safely. 


Takes  away  ^ 
nylon  qray 

Z)  *'*SnOWy"  AND  GOLD  SrAL  ARE  TRADE-MARKS. 


GOLD  SEAL  CO.,  BISMARCK.  N.  DAK. 


108 


L  A    I)    T    E    S  '       H    <)    M    I,       .)    ()    U    H    N    A  I. 


February,  1953 


AMBER-EYED,  ash-blonde,  spirited,  Mrs.  Herbert  Bayard  Swope.  Jr. 
of  New  York  and  Long  Island  is  a  delightful  subject  for  hair  stylist  Jungst 
of  the  Madison.  His  flair  is  for  an  easy  naturalness  — with  a  difference. 

Society  Hair  Stylist  JUNGST 

of  tiie  Madison, 
master  of  distinguislied 
simplicity,  says: 


''This  'babying'  shampoo  is  my  choice  for 
thrillingly  beautiful  Hair-dos.  It  is  Conti 
Shampoo,  rich  in  the  ivorhVs  tenderest 
cleansing  ingredient  for  the  hair." 


HAIR  IS  OUTGROWTH  OF  SKIN.  Treat  it  tenderly  as 
you  treat  the  skin  of  your  face— of  new-born  baby.  Basic  in- 
gredient of  Conti  shampoo  is  same  as  used  in  famed  Conti 
olive  oil  Castile  soap  esteemed  for  baby  skin  care.  Same  as 
used  in  beloved  Conti  Baby^'Oil,  Conti  Baby  Powder.  Bril- 
liantly compounded  for  the  special  needs  of  hair.  Conti 
"bab\ing"  shampoo  gets  in  and  out  of  hair  quickly,  washes 
out  completely.  Leaves  hair  just  right  for  obedient  hair-dos. 
Pure.  Safe.  Conti  cannot  cause  drying  of  hair  or  scalp. 


OUrfO  SKIN 


■  IMPORTED.  From  renowned  olive  presses 
of  sunny  Mediterranean  shores  comes  the 
pure  olive  oil  used  in  Conti  shampoo.  A 
natural  oil  for  your  hair's  natural  loveliness. 


QUICK.  EASY  ON  HAIR.  Conti's  fast  small-" 
bubble  lather  gets  into  greasy  hair  freely. 
Slips  out  as  easily.  Speedy.  Tender.  Good  to 
hair.  Wash  hair  as  often  as  you  like  with 
"babying"  Conti  shampoo.  Economical.  Only 
49  cents,  regular  size.  89  cents  family  size. 


FAST  SMALL- BUBBLE  LATHER 
TELLS    YOU    CONTI    IS  SAFE 


"The  whole  story,"  Elishama  answered. 
"When  you  tell  what  has  happened  to  you, 
from  yesterday  evening  till  now,  you  will  be 
telling  the  whole  story.  You  are  the  one 
sailor  in  the  world  who  can  tell  it  truthfully, 
as  it  has  actually,  from  beginning  to  end, 
happened  to  you." 

The  boy  looked  at  Elishama  for  a  long 
time. 

"What  has  happened  to  me,"  he  said 
at  last,  "from  yesterday  evening  till  now?" 
And  again  after  a  while,  "Why  do  you  call  it 
a  story?" 

"Because,"  said  Elishama,  "you  yourself 
have  heard  it  told  as  a  story.  About  a  sailor 
who  comes  ashore  from  his  ship  in  a  big 
town.  And  he  is  walking  by  himself  in  a 
street  near  the  harbor,  when  a  carriage 
drives  up,  and  an  old  gentleman  steps  out  of 
it  and  says  to  him,  "You  are  a  fine-looking 
sailor,  do  you  want  to  earn  five  guineas  to- 
night?'" 

The  boy  did  not  move.  But  he  had  a  curi- 
ous capacity  of  collecting,  suddenly  and  im- 
perceptibly, his  great  strength,  and  of  turn- 
ing it  toward  the  person  with  whom  he 
spoke,  like  some  threatening,  like  some  for- 
midable weight,  which  might  well  make  the 
other  feel  in  danger  of  his  life.  So  he  had 
scared  Mr.  Clay  at  their  first  meeting  in  the 
street,  and  had  downright  frightened  him 
later  in  the  evening,  in  the  dining  room. 
Elishama,  who  had  no  fear  in  him,  for  a 
second  was  moved  and  stirred,  so  that  he 
even  drew  back  a  little  from  the  gigantic 
creature  before  him. 

But  the  gigantic  creature  before  him 
proved  to  be  a  peaceful  beast.  He  waited  a 
moment,  then  very  quietly  stated,  "But  that, 
story  is  not  in  the  least  like  what  happened 
to  me." 

Again  he  waited  a  little. 

"Tell  it?"  he  said  slowly.  "To  whom  would 
I  tell  it?  Who  in  the  world  would  believe  it 
if  I  told  it?" 

He  laid  his  collected,  concentrated  strength 
and  weight  into  a  last  sentence. 

"I  would  not  tell  it,"  he  said,  "for  a  hun- 
dred times  five  guineas." 

Elishama  opened  the  door  of  the  house  to 
its  guest  of  the  night.  Outside,  the  trees  and 
flowers  of  Mr.  Clay's  garden  were  wet  with 
dew;  in  the  morning  light  they  looked  new 
and  fresh,  as  if  they  had  just  this  hour  been 
created.  The  sky  was  red  as  a  rose  and  there 
was  not  a  cloud  in  it.  One  of  Mr.  Clay's  pea- 
cocks screeched  on  the  lawn;  dragging  its 
tail  after  it,  it  made  a  dark  stripe  in  the 
silvery  grass.  From  far  away  came  the  faint 
noises  of  the  awakening  town. 


The  sailor's  eyes  fell  upon  the  bundle 
which  last  night  he  had  left  on  a  lacquered 
table  in  the  veranda.  He  took  it  up  to  carry 
it  away  with  him,  then  thought  better  of  it, 
laid  it  down  again  and  undid  the  knots. 

"Will  you  remember  to  do  something  for 
me?"  he  asked  Elishama. 

"Yes,  I  shall  remember,"  answered  Elish- 
ama. 

"A  long  time  ago,"  said  the  boy,  "I  was 
on  an  island  where  there  were  many  thou- 
sand shells  along  the  shore.  Some  of  them 
were  beautiful,  perhaps  they  were  rare,  per- 
haps they  were  only  to  be  found  on  that 
same  island.  I  picked  up  a  few  every  day,  in 
the  morning.  I  took  some  of  them,  the  most 
beautiful  of  them,  with  me.  I  meant  to  take 
them  home  to  Denmark.  They  are  the  only 
things  I  have  got,  to  take  home  with  me." 

He  spread  his  collections  of  shells  over  the 
table,  looked  them  over  thoughtfully,  and  in 
the  end  picked  out  one  big  shining  pink 
shell.  He  handed  it  to  Elishama. 

"I. shall  not  give  her  them  all,"  he  said.  | 
"She  has  got  so  many  fine  things,  she  would  j 
not  care  to  have  a  lot  of  shells  lying  about.  1 
But  this  one  is  rare,  I  think.  I  think  that  per- 
liaps  there  is  not  another  one  just  like  it  in  ! 
all  the  world."  He  slowly  felt  the  shell  over 
with  his  fingers.  "  It  is  as  smooth  and  silky  as 
a  knee,"  he  said.  "And  when  you  hold  it  to 
your  ear  there  is  a  sound  in  it,  a  song.  Will 
you  give  it  to  her  from  me?  And  will  you  tell 
her  to  hold  it  to  her  ear?" 

He  held  it  to  his  own  ear,  and  immediately 
his  face  took  on  an  attentive,  peaceful  look. 
Elishama  reflected  that  after  all  lie  had  been 
right  last  night,  the  boy  was  very  young. 

"Yes,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  remember  to  give 
it  to  her." 

"And  will  you  remember  to  tell  her  to  hold 
it  to  her  ear?"  asked  the  boy. 

"Yes,"  said  Elishama. 

"Thank  you.  And  good-by,"  said  the 
sailor,  and  gave  Elishama  his  big  hand. 

He  went  down  the  veranda  steps  and  along 
the  drive  with  the  bundle  in  his  hand  and 
disappeared. 

Elishama  stood  and  looked  after  him. 
When  the  big  young  figure  was  no  longer  in 
sight,  he  himself  lifted  the  shell  to  his  ear. 
There  was  a  deep,  low  surge  in  it,  like  the 
distant  roar  of  great  breakers.  Elishama's 
face  took  on  exactly  the  same  expression  as 
the  sailor's  face  a  few  moments  ago.  He  had 
a  strange,  gentle,  profound  shock,  from  the 
sound  of  a  new  voice  in  the  house,  and  in  the 
story.  /  have  heard  il  before,  he  thought,  long 
ago.  Long,  long  ago.  But  where?  He  let  his 


hand  sink. 


THK  KND 


'W  hal  do  yon  mean  put  on  a  .shirt?  I 
thought  you  anti  Gary  trere  already  engaged.' 


^    "     '  S  •        II     II     M     I         I     II     I      H     N     \  I 


fte 


/(  (itck  Dill  for  (Iry-sldti  si"tis 


25 


d 


rying  s 


kin 


begins  to  show  ! 


It's  iKilirralili — atnl  ilisliirliiii^'  llic  way  skin  nil.  11  lu-^'iiK  tu  slioiv 
ilryticss  al'liT 

Al  alHiut         a;.'!-,  tin-  iialiiial  oil  llial  ki  <  |i>.  skin  s,,l|  ami  lii -li 
starts  (l(!crcasini^. 

Yfiii  iiccil  a  s/jrcitil  rrii/ncrr  lo  (in'sci  tin's  ilrvin^'  nut  nl  yniir  skin's 
natnial  siillfninj.' oil.  I  si- ilns  s[ic(  ial  \'i<\\i\' ~  hiiii>lin-ri<li  l)i y  Skin  (in-ani. 

S(  T  Ih  Imu  Ikiu  i|iiirk  ////-(Irii-i  umk-  In  snltcn  ami  ri'fiair  fninrnnn 
dry-skin  trnnlilcs  all  over  your  lace  ami  tlirnat— and  csiiccially  in  dry- 
skin  Ironhic  s|i(its.  Mi-jiin  In  j.'c|  lliis  wundriTnl  l)rl|i-  now! 


Drying  starts  to  show  first  in  the  places  pictured  below.  See  how  best  to  help  correct  it! 


CrIft-CroM  Lines  under  Eyes  will  print  themselves  in,  if 
your  skin  is  dry,  papery. 

To  Smooth — Be  sure  to  cream-over  those  tiny  dry  lines 
nightly  with  lanolin-rich  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream.  Start  from 
outer  corners  ot  your  eyes  and  tap  cream  very  gently  inward 
under  eyes  to  nose.  Feel,  see  how  your  dry,  papery  eye  skin 
soaks  up  this  cream's  moist  richness. 


Flaky,  Dry  Skin  Patches  on  vour  cliccks  rough  up  your 
skin,  spoil  your  make-up's  smooth  look. 
To  Clear  Away  —  Work  into  cheeks  nightly  plenty  of  Pond's 
Dry  .Skin  Cream.  Swirl  its  softening  help  up  from  chin-line. 
This  lanohn-rich  cream  is  homogenized  to  soak  in  hetter. 
Use  a  light  film  under  make-up  for  day  softening  also. 


>ut^ 


.~0^  J.' 

that  worrying. 


Flabby,  Dry-Lined  Throat, 

older  "  touch  on  vou. 
To  Brisk-Up — Tilt  head  back  slightly.  Stroke  lanolin-rich 
Pond's  Dry  Skin  Oeam  up  your  throat  to  chin-line.  Do 
10  good,  firm  strokes  everv  night  to  help  throat  look  smooth, 
unflabby.  This  treatment  brings  circulation  up,  and  gives 
this  dry  skin  the  lift  and  rich  luhrinition  it  needs. 


Tiny  Dry  Lines  Etch  In  between  your  eyes,  on  forehead. 
To  Smooth  Down — Ciicle  on  Pond's  lanolin-rich  Dry  Skin 
Cream  generously.  Making  firm,  quick  little  circles,  work 
it  up  between  your  eyes — out  over  eyebrows  to  temples. 
Leave  a  little  of  this  special,  rich  cream  on  overnight  to 
give  your  dry  skin  more  of  the  softening  oil  it  needs. 


Little  Creases  Settle  by  Earlobes  when  your  skin  begins  to 

get  dry  ami  iiii-Li-tic. 

To  Flatten  Out  -I'se  first  two  fingers  of  each  hand  ami 
make  "U-Turns"  with  lanolin-rich  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream 
back  and  forth  under  your  ears.  Cream  from  front  of  ear-, 
under,  then  up  in  back.  This  helps  flatten  little  dry-skin 
creases,  helps  keep  skin  soft,  resilient. 


Dry  Skin  "Down-Lines"  by  nose  and  mouth  liarden  your 
expression. 

To  Help  Soften  Lines  —  "Knuckle  in"  softening  Pond's  Dry 
Skin  Cream.  Knead  this  lanolin-rich  cream  out  and  up  from 
nostrils  and  mouth.  See  it  smooth  that  "dry  skin."  tense 
look.  A  special  emulsijier  makes  this  cream  extra-softening. 


Mrs.  Ellen  Tuck  Astor  says: 
"I  like  FfMid"s  Dry  Skin  Cream  so 
much.  I'm  never  without  this  rich, 
softening  cream." 

The  Countess  de  la  Falaise  says: 
"It  always  amazes  me  how  quickly 
Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream  softens  skin 
that  feels  dry  or  a  bit  roughened." 


3  features 
make  it  so  effective 
for  dry  skin! 

1 .  Rich  in  Lanolin 

2.  Homogenized 

to  soak  In  better 

3.  Special  emuUHIer 
for  extra  softening 

G«r  a  for  foAiy} 


BOND'S 


'//? 


Creann 


Sfarf  this 
truly  remarkable 
correction  of  your 
Dry  Skin  today! 

98^,  55p,  31  j^,  15(i  (plus  tax) 


II    <>    M    K       .1    ()    U    R    N    A  L 


Fehrilury. 


0 

a 

s 

Q 


So  easy  to  wash,  quick  to  dry  .  .  .  nylon  is  keyed  to  your 
busier,  faster,  fuller  life!  The  pleats,  the  sheers,  the 
feminine  pretties  you  love  ...  all  become  enduring  and 
practical  in  nylon.  For  nylon  takes  the  scrubbing,  heavy- 
duty  ironing  out  of  clothes  care  .  .  .  gives  you  precious 
minutes  for  leisure  in  rush-and-hurrv  livin"^' 


N>loii  ka<l-  a  iloiihle  life  uiili  \(iu  .  . 
in  a  pretty  blouse  that  "oes  from  desk  to 
date  ivilh  bandbox  fresliness  .  .  .  washes 
out  like  a  hanky. 


More  leisure  at  home  wilb  nylon  to 
take  the  chores  out  of  busy  living!  Just 
swish  lingerie,  dresses,  blouses  through  the 
-uds  .  .  .  they're  fresh  again. 


Daiue  in  beauty  .  .  .  even  on  last- 
rtunute  notice  ...  in  a  nylon  dress  that 
comes  out  of  the  closet  ready  for  the  t)arty, 
keeps  its  freshness  the  evening  long. 


*<«  U  S  PAT  Of 

BETTER  THINGS  FOR  BETTER  LIVING 

.  .  ."  THROUGH  CHEMISTRY 


oixe   o£  Dii  Porifs   iii  oclerwv  - 1  iv  i  fibers 


1 


Roy  reads  Bible  passage.  Dot  listens,  alter  tlicy  cliriil)  work  before  iioonda)  iiieal.  eight  more  before  nigblfall. 
into  big  four-poster  al  8  each  niglil.  Up  at  1  A.M.,  they'll  Roy  is  unliired  by  cities'  glitter;  Dot  turned  down  a 
breakfast  on  home-grown  ham  and  eggs,  do  eight  hours'     college  scholarship  to  stay  on  land  where  both  grew  up. 


AT  4  A.M.  the  alarm  clock  crows  before  the 
XJl roosters  to  announce  a  new  day  for  the 
newly  married  Roy  Rowlands,  of  Vannatta. 
Tennessee.  Shivering  in  the  dark  and  cold  of 
the  unheated  bedroom,  Roy,  a  handsome, 
broad-shouldered  ex-football  star  of  twenty-two, 
climbs  out  of  the  big  double  bed  where  his 
yellow-haired  bride  lies  sleeping.  With  numb 
fingers  he  pulls  on  ankle-length  winter  under- 
wear, his  work-stained  overalls  and  heavy  boots, 
and  clumps  out  to  the  porch  for  wood  for  the 
fireplace  and  iron  potbellied  stove.  The  newly- 
weds'  six-room  white  frame  house,  in  a  one- 
story  i_  shape,  dates  back  to  1866.  Behind  the 
farmhouse  are  ancient  outbuildings  of  cedar 
logs:  chicken  coop,  open  cowshed,  and  so  on. 

Roy's  bride  of  nineteen  stirs  sleepily  in  the 
immense  four-poster  bed,  heaped  with  hand- 
stitched  cotton  quilts.  "When  she  was  little. 
Dot  was  a  freakish'-lookin'  child,"  recalls  her 


mother.  "Dark  complcxioned,  hair  white  as 
cotton,  and  those  funny  greenish-Iookin'  eyes. 
She  never  played  with  a  doll  or  wanted  to  be  in 
the  house  in  those  days.  She  was  always  out  in 
the  fields  with  the  men,  pitchin'  hay,  drivin'  a 
tractor,  choppin'  cotton." 

The  freakish-looking  tomboy  grew  up  to  be  a 
beauty  queen,  champion  cherry-pie  baker  in 
mid-state  Tennessee,  winner  of  forty-four  4-H 
Club  ribbons,  honor  student  in  high  school  and 
basketball  star.  She  took  prizes  for  sewing, 
cooking,  canning,  metalwork  and  basket  weav- 
ing, as  well  as  many  show  honors  for  her  White 
Rock  hens,  Duroc  pigs  and  her  registered  Jer- 
sey— Givia's  Golden  Rosabelle. 

Rosabelle  is  out  in  the  cowshed  now,  im- 
patient to  be  milked,  as  Dotty  pulls  on  her  blue 
jeans  before  the  fire.  This  young  couple,  married 
a  year,  have  no  central  heat,  no  telephone.  They 
do  have  electricity,  a  miracle  of  convenience 


Once-abandoned  house  is  shaping  up 
now,  spanking-white.  Gate  without 
fence  reminds  of  its  run-do^\Ti  past. 


Dot  and  Roy  Row  Land  stake  their 
future  in  Vannatta,  Tennessee,  on 
faith,  hard  irork  and  each  other. 


Bv  BETTY  HANNAH  HOFFMAN 


At  sunrise,  Dot  and  Roy  walk  together  to  cotton  fields,  work  ten  hours  straight  to  pick  200 
pounds.  Dot,  free  from  modern  woman's  conflict  on  home-or-career,  "always  knew  I 
wanted  to  be  a  farmer's  wife,  just  like  my  mother."  Roy  was  first  boy  she  dated  steady. 


"When  the  babies  come,  Fll  carry  'em  to  the  fields  in 
a  basket  while  I  work  with  Roy.  We  were  raised  that  way  J' 


ihey  give  thanks  for  every  day.  Before  TVA 
brought  plentiful  and  cheap  electric  power  to 
this  thinly  settled  farm  area  of  Central  Tennes- 
see, Dot  can  remember  hours  of  drudgery  spent 
hauling  stovewood  and  dumping  ashes,  heating 
a  wrist-breaking  sadiron  for  ironing,  futilely 
trying  to  catch  the  flying  house  dust  with  a 
broom.  She  can  remember  the  stifling  summer 
days  when  she  and  her  family  carried  enough 
water  to  clean  and  can  2000  jars  of  food,  1000 
of  them  in  half-gallon  sizes. 

Dot  pulls  on  a  sweater  and  hurries  out  into 
the  winter  darkness  to  help  Roy  milk  the  cows. 


"We  thank  Thee  for  this  day,  for 
this  food."  Dot,  a  prize  cook, 
was  a  bride  who  canned  turnip 
greens  while  sewing  trousseau. 


Hard  work  gives  way  to  horseplay 
any  time  of  day.  "Loblolly"  (local 
for  muddy)  fails  to  entice  Dot 
as  Roy  tries  to  pull  her  into  pit. 


"Hi,  Pete,"  she  greets  him,  and  "Hi,  Pete,"  he 
grins  back.  Dot  puts  her  icy  fingers  against  the 
cow's  belly  to  warm  them  up,  a  trick  she  learned 
as  a  child.  The  steam  rises  from  the  sour-sweet- 
smelling  silage  as  the  six  Jerseys  munch  placidly. 
A  kitten  rubs  against  Dot's  leg,  waiting  for  her 
saucerful  of  warm  milk.  Dot  begins  milking  at 
one  end  of  the  row,  Roy  at  the  other.  It  is  under- 
stood that  he  will  attend  to  the  cow  that  is  apt 
to  aim  unladylike  kicks  at  Dot  because  of  the 
length  of  her  fingernails. 

"I  started  milkin'  when  I  was  about  four  years 
old  with  a  lard  bucket,"  recalls  Dot.  "I  was  al- 
ways feudin'  with  my  brother  about  who  could 
milk  the  most.  One  day  I  sneaked  down  to  the 
barn  about  two  in  the  afternoon  and  found  a 
nice  ol'  gentle  cow.  I  figured  I  had  three  hours 
to  milk  before  the  others  and  was  sure  to  beat 
brother  Dub.  Well,  after  a  couple  of  hours,  I 
jest  about  got  that  little  ol'  lard  bucket  full  of 
milk  when  darned  if  the  cow  didn't  go  and  kick 
it  over.  I  cried  and  cried,  and  ran  to  mamma, 
and  she  laughed  until  she  cried." 

After  milking,  Dot  goes  back  to  her  cheerful 
red-and-white  kitchen  with  its  gleaming  new  re- 
frigerator and  electric  range.  By  5:30  A.M.  the 


lMl()T()<;i< AI'IIS        JOK  MtlNROK 


■■(Idlldii  and  cdws  llicy  pay  Ih'sI  licic."  Kxlra 
I  ,.lliiii-|)i(  kiiif^  liaiiils  fir\  \r  a  |)niiti(l.  I^sl  year 
KowImiiiIs  (lid  all  (ivvti  [lii  kiii;;.  clcaird  ilSIOOO. 


Sttttirilay  ni^lii;  |M(|><-orn,  hot  <or«.«  and 
lilflitlirarlcd  ^aiiirii  <if  KuoL  iir  <■>' 

"(.III-    -u.ip    ll-,  |(.|--      f..,.  .     I  ill  , 


Rowlands  sit  down  to  an  enormous  breakfast  of 
home-canned  tomato  juice,  hot  biscuits,  fried 
ham  (from  their  own  hogs),  eggs  (from  Dotty's 
Leghorns),  homemade  blackberry  jam,  raw 
creamy  milk  from  a  huge  pitcher.  The  Rowlands' 
weekly  food  bill  at  the  general  store  runs  about 
$4 — mainly  for  flour,  sugar,  cereal  and  spices. 
"Reckon  we  spend  more  on  chicken  feed  than 
ourselves,"  comments  Roy  with  satisfaction, 
heaping  butter  on  one  of  Dot's  golden  baking- 
powder  biscuits.  They  spend  no  more  than  $3  a 
month  for  clothes.  (Dot  has  a  bulging  closetful 
of  clothes  she  made  before  her  marriage:  Roy, 
too,  has  plenty  of  "good  clothes.")  Their  home, 
which  belongs  to  Dot's  parents,  is  rent-free.  Last 
year  this  young  farm  couple  earned  .$3200  in 
spite  of  one  of  the  hottest  summer  droughts  in 
Tennessee  history,  of  which  $1000  is  savings. 

When  someone  suggested  to  Roy  recently  that 
he  buy  a  car,  he  grunted,  "A  car  won't  earn 
nothin'."  Every  possible  penny  they  can  save 
is  earmarked  for  a  farm  of  their  own.  Roy  now 
manages  76  acres  for  his  father-in-law,  paying 
for  his  own  feed  and  fertilizer  and  keeping  the 
crop  profits.  In  addition  he  rents  another  80 
acres.  Last  year  Dot  and  Roy  raised  8  acres  of 
cotton,  15  acres  of  barley  and  clover,  30  acres 
of  corn,  20  acres  of  hay,  as  well  as  6  milk  cows, 
7  heifers,  8  sheep,  2  hogs  and  200  chickens.  Re- 
cently they  looked  at  a  100-acre  farm  for  sale  for 
$5500.  "We  could  pay  off  the  mortgage  in  a 
couple  of  good  cotton  years,"  says  Roy  confi- 


I'o  Miirlict  -ii(irii  III  iliiiiic  |o\Mi  lia>  no 

piiones.  Had  (Mir  dMce,"  says  Dot's  mother, 
"heard  iidiliin    Imi  roosters,  cows,  babies." 


Roy  and  Dol  sidl  cotton  in  Miirfreesboro,  were  handed  clieck  for  $977.60  for 
6il()-poiind  load.  Other  cash  comes  from  cheese  company  in  .Slielhyv^,  for 
milk  supply.  Enp,  profit  covers  $i  weekly  Rowlands  spend  on  grocery  staple-. 


Ill 


At  New  Zion  Church  of  Christ,  deeply  religious  Rowlands 
join  in  meeting  talk.  Roy  speaks  feelingly  of  Jesus'  miracle 
in  feeding  crowd  with  "a  loaf  of  hread  and  couple  of  fishes." 


''Those  tivo  arent  apart  moren  an  hour  a  month.'" 
Hand-in-hand  Roivlands  make  happy  neighbors. 


dently.  Eventually  Dot  and  Roy  would  like  a 
farm  of  about  250  acres  and  hope  to  build  a 
modern  home  and  a  Grade  A  milk  barn.  ''Cotton 
and  cows — they  pay  off  best  about  here,"  says 
Roy  from  his  wealth  of  farm  experience.  It 
seems  to  matter  not  at  all  that  cows  and  cotton 
are  the  most  demanding  in  hand  labor.  "Noth- 
in's  hard  work  if  it's  a  dollar  in  your  own 
pocket,"  he  grins  at  Dot. 

Handling  money  wisely  was  instilled  into 
Dot  and  Roy  early.  "Soon  as  I  could  toddle, 
mamma  gave  me  a  flour  bag  and  dad  gave  me  a 
penny  for  every  pound  of  cotton  I  picked," 


tells  Dot.  Later  she  had  a  cotton  patch  of  several 
acres  of  her  own,  from  which  she  was  allowed 
to  keep  the  profits,  although  she  was  also  ex- 
pected to  help  out  with  many  family  projects  for 
nothing.  Her  three  teen-age  brothers  rise  at 
4  A.M.  daily  to  milk  21  cows  and  feed  the  stock 
before  catching  a  7:30  school  bus,  hurry  home  to 
do  "the  night  work."  "Mamma  and  daddy  taught 
us  that  the  harder  we  worked,  the  more  advan- 
tages the  family  could  have,  so  we  were  really 
helping  ourselves,"  explains  Dot.  Her  mother 
says,  "Whenever  there's  work  to  do,  our  kids 
are  rarin'  to  get  at  it  and  get  it  done." 


As  a  boy,  Roy  sometimes  resented  having  to 
work  so  much  harder  than  some  of  his  friends. 
While  still  in  high  school,  and  a  first-stringer  on 
the  baseball,  football  and  basketball  teams,  he 
and  his  twin  brother  ran  his  father's  180-acre 
farm.  "We  milked  with  the  lights  on,  night  and 
morning,"  says  Roy.  Now  he's  grateful  for  the 
experience.  With  a  keen  eye  for  the  practical, 
Roy  insisted  upon  and  got  the  only  course  in 
home  economics  ever  given  to  boys  at  Shelby- 
ville  High:  "A  lot  more  useful  than  English  or 
history."  Like  Roy,  most  of  the  all-boy  class 
were  members  of  (Continued  on  Page  124) 


Farmyard  family  takes  in  seven  heifers,  six  milk  cows.  Pet  is  Givia's  Golden  Rosabelle, 
a  Jersey  show  winner.  Dot  "learned  milking  soon  as  I  could  walk,"  knows  all  the  tricks 
to  keep  bucket  unkicked.  fingers  limher,  cheek  protected  from  stinging  flick  of  cow's  tail. 


"    '  S  •       II    ()    M     I         I    <i    I      li     N     \  I 


Shining  example  in  looks  and  flavor 


Don't  miPs  this  golden  opportunity  to  enjoy  Del  Monte 
Brand  Fruit  Cocktail. 

Notice  how  luscious  the  five  fruits  look!  And  when  you  taste 
them,  you'll  find  they're  in  perfect  flavor  halance.  Notice,  too.  how 
neatly  they're  cut ...  bright  as  you  please  in  their  rich  syrup. 

Now . . .  consider  the  ease  and  convenience  of  having  such  a 
taste-appealing  mixture  all  ready  to  serve — plus  the  dependability 
the  Del  Monte  label  represents. 

Add  these  together  and  you'll  know  why  Del  Monte  is 
America's  favorite  brand  of  Fruit  Cocktail. 


SPARKLE  SALAD 


I 


2  packages  lemon-flavored 
gelatin 


1  No.  2'A  can  DEL  MONTE 
Fruit  Cocktail 


Prepare  gelatin  according  to  directions  on  the  box  using  1  rup 
of  fruit  cocktail  syrup  and  3  cups  of  water.  Measure  out  Wi 
cups  of  the  prepared  gelatin  into  a  small  bowl  to  chill  and 
set.  Measure  out  1  cup  of  the  fruit  cocktail  and  set  aside  to 
chill.  Four  remaining  gelatin  and  fruit  into  an  8"  square  pan. 
Chill  till  firm.  Put  the  plain  gelatin  through  a  potato  ricer 
or  beat  vigorously  with  a  fork.  Make  6  oblong  frames  on  top 
of  the  mold  with  the  plain  gelatin  and  fdl  each  frame  with  the 
remaining  chilled  fruit  cocktail.  Ser\'e  on  lettuce.  Makes  6 


P.S.  Did  you  know  that,  according  to  the  U.S.  Department 
of  Labor  (Sept.,  1952),  canned  fruits  and  vegetables 
have  gone  up  in  price  less  than  half  as  much  as  "all 
foods"  since  1935-39? 


Del  Monte  Fruit  Cocktail 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  1953 


FROSTILLA 


FRAGRANT 

n 


A      lADY'S      LOVEIY      lOTION      SINCE  1873 


Soothing!  Smoothing!  Softly  fragrant !  That's 
Frostilla.  Use  it  for  your  hands — to  smooth,  soothe, 
soften !  For  your  legs — to  end  those  nasty  nylon  snags. 
For  elbow  bumps,  ankle  chaps,  all  the  ills  soft  flesh 
is  heir  to.  Never  sticky,  never  greasy,  never  gummy. 
Frostilla  leaves  your  skin  so  fresh,  so  fragrant,  oh,  so 
smooth!  Yes,  pamper  a//  of  you — with  fragrant  Frostilla! 


I  17 


/m  im/n  ////  v 


Hrifilil  red  wnol  jcrsf-y  mukcH  this  nmui  — 
iIitIiiI  ilrc.H.s  with  iiii  iiiiiiMiiil  In-aliiK-iil  ni  ^^^V 
.hIccvc;  arul  yok*?.  Vfif^iic  l)rhinii  "'^l'*- 


\.  princess  coat  is  always  figure-flattering.  We  have  accented  it  with  a  neat 
elvet  collar  and  added  white  accessories.  Vogue  Junior  Design  No.  3418. 


Quick  as  u  wink  and  iJol  in  drchwd  .  . .  ilim 
gay  strifx"  wra|»t  to  the  hack,  ticb  in  front. 
G)ntraslinf;  piping.  Vogue  Design  No.  7fW.o. 


/  / 


PRKTIY  Dot  Howlaml  loves  nice 
clothes,  and  with  her  petite  figure 
wears  them  like  a  model.  Her  clothes 
last  for  a  long  time  and  lor  that  reason 
she  plans  them  carefully.  For  $50  this 
basic  wardrobe  includes  everything  Dot 


needs — a  {trclly  checked  suit  lo  wear  to 
church,  slim  navy  coat,  a  red  wool  jersey 
daytime  dress,  a  party  dress,  and  a  gay 
cotton  to  wear  working  at  home.  Her 
suit  skirt  does  double  duty,  with  sweat- 
ers or  blouses.  Fifty  dollars  well  spent. 

By  Nora  0"Leary 

Pattern  Editor  of  the  Journal 


RAY  KEIXMAN 


Crisp  rayon  suiting  is  a  year-round  fabric.  We  tailored  it  into  a  trim 
young  suit  with  short  jacket.   Vogue  Junior  Design  No.  3479. 


Mauve  silk-and-acetate  organza  with  a  shantung  weave  in  an  enchant 
ing  date  dress.  Tucked-collar  detail 


Vogue  Design  No.  S-4371 


Buy  Vosne  PatteriiB  at  the  store  which  sells  them  in  your  city.  Or  or.lcr  hy  mail,  enelosini!  check  or 
u.oney  order  *  froui  Vogue  Pattern  Service,  Putnam  Ayenuc.  Greenwich,  Conn.:  or  m  Canada  from  ]<)« 
Spadina  Aye..  Toronto,  Ont.  Son.e  prices  slightly  higher  in  Canada.  ("Conn,  residents  add  sales  tax.) 

Back  views,  sizes  and  prices  arc  an  I'a^e  1^7 


Dot's  favorite  color:  red.  Roy's:  green. 
Happy  harmony  is  achieved  in  new 
hdilinumi — n  reality  for  them  after 
last  fall's  cntinn  profits  u  erc  counted. 


Youno 

ome-Boilders 


"W  e  were  brought  ujj  to  use  our  hand»  and  heads 
and  save  dollars."  Dot  and  Roy  Rowland  show  Young  America's  ingenuity  by 
building  a  modern  bath  in  their  87-year-old  farmhouse. 


By  MARGARET  DAVIDSON 


Hwin'  a  new  bathroom  is  one  of  the 
nicest  things  that  can  happen  to  a 
house.'  All  we  learned  should  help  someone 
else,"  says  Roy  Rowland.  Dot  adds,  "Roy 
even  had  to  hitch  up  water  from  a  well  and 
dynamite  rock  for  a  septic-tank  pit.  Only 
farmers  have  such  a  time  with  plumbing!" 

BASICS  FOR  THE  BUDGET 

Locating  the  purchased  items  was  a  family 
project — they  all  scouted  the  nearby  towns 

was 


for  their  needs.  Slightly  over 
spent  finishing  off  the  room  with  asphalt 
flooring,  plastic  wall  tile  and  fabric  wall 
covering.  A  nonbudget  item  was  some  72 


hours  of  odd-time  work  putting  these  in. 
By  comparison,  having  professionals  do  the 
work  would  have  cost  about  .$173.  Fixtures: 
tub  (including  shower  fitting),  lavatory  and 
water  closet,  cost  $156.57,  were  bought 
through  a  family  friend  in  the  community 
who  also  supervised  their  installation.  For 
hot  water  in  both  the  bath  and  kitchen, 
Rowlands  bought  the  largest-size  table- 
topped  water  heater  for  $106.72,  put  it  be- 
side the  kitchen  range.  They  heat  the  bath- 
room with  an  electric  wall  heater,  bought 
for  $14.79. 

"WE  ROLLED  UP  OUR  SLEEVES" 

"Room  was  covered  with  old  wallpaper, 
so  we  both  pitched  in — peeled  it  fresh  as  a 
twig."  Dot  and  Roy  even  took  down  news- 
paper from  the  walls.  ("My  age!"  mused 
Dot,  stopping  to  read  a  19-year-old  page.) 
When  the  Hi'  x  11^2'  room  was  scrubbed 
clean,  but  still  ragged,  repairs  started. 

Warped  flooring  was  smoothed  by  Roy 
and  a  sanding  machine.  "Hardware  store 
rents  'em — $5  a  day,  only  $3  at  store-closin' 


time."  Money  saved  by 
bought  sandpaper  disks — $ 


the  night 
I  worth. 


rate 


'Walls  were  all  torn  and  jaggedy."  Roy 
solved  that  by  re-covering  them  with  big 
panels  of  wallboard  to  give  a  newly  smooth 
surface  and  insulate  at  the  same  time. 

"FOR  SPLASHIN'  AND  SINGIN'  " 

Plastic  wall  tile,  in  sea-water  green,  was 
a  splurge  item — $72.15  with  adhesive. 
"Worth  ever'  penny!"  says  Roy,  who  show- 
ers with  manlike  splashing  and  wants  walls 
that  can  take  it. 

Tiling  needed  beforehand  plannmg  to  line 
up  spacing  and  mark  guidelines,  but  was 
easy  going  once  started.  Walls  in  the  tub 
recess  were  given  watertight  seal  by  a  thin 
coat  of  adhesive,  let  set  until  bone-dry.  Then 
fresh  adhesive,  put  on  with  a  notched  trowel, 
was  ready  to  take  tiles.  "Main  things  to 
remember,"  from  Roy:  "Take  your  time. 
Line  tile  up  tigiit  to  the  one  before  it,  and 
press  it  in  place."  Sliding  oozes  up  adhesive, 
means  a  tough  cleanup  later.  Tiles  at  the 
tub  line  were  adhesive-coated  at  bottom  to 
give  a  perfect  seal.  To  fit 
corners,  Roy  cut  extra  pieces 
of  the  tile  with  a  medium  saw. 


itep  one  to  new  bath:  room  scoured 
•lean  and  sanitary  before  remodeling. 
Rouiands  chose  unused  space,  Roy 
milt  neiv  wall  to  divide  off  a  hall. 


Neiv  two-foot  wall  fabric  is  ideal  for  amateurs: 
span  easy  to  handle,  any  spots  easy  tn  wasli  off. 


Roy  tiles  lull  nulls  in  marine  green.  His  advice: 
keep  hands  clean,  tile  unsticky  to  avoid  a  scrub- 
down  later.  Care  keeps  tile  surface  free  of  marks. 


Floor  is  white-veined  green  tile.  S(juares 
alternating  in  direction  give  best  effect. 


(A 


For  untiled  walls,  Dot  chose  flower- 
s|)i  igf^('(l  Willi  ral)i  i(;  (cost  of  $19.40  covered 
llieir  ceiling  loo).  In  the  now  24"  widlli, 
Irliimied  al  llie  sides,  "it's  easy  as  (tie  to  jxil 
up,  and  woiTl  tear,  even  if  you're  iHif^iinir-rs." 

Roy  has  a  [)a[)cr-hanf^ing  trick  learned  the 
liard  way  —  he  once  did  a  room  with  panels 
on  a  till,  "ended  up  lo  lind  it  all  eo(  k(>yed." 
INow  he  lacks  n[)  a  siring,  weiglils  il  (a 
spoon  will  do)  and  marks  a  lru(!  vertical. 

Rowlands  followed  an  easy  trim-as-you- 
paste  |)Ian.  Just  cut  each  panel  with  extra 
inches  lop  and  hollom,  smooth  il  lo  wall 
with  a  wide  hrush,  at  ceiling  and  floor  line 
crease  iahric,  llicn  scissor  —  fits  j)erlcclly. 

"T11J-:  A  FLOOR  C:KNTKK  OUT" 

"Most  rooms  aren't  straight.  If  you  tile 
lloor  from  a  wall  out,  you're  in  trouble.  Ex- 
perts stal  l  in  the  center,"  Roy  discovered. 
His  guidelines  met  al  right  angles  in  ihe 
center  of  the  room.  Green  asj)hall  lloor  tile, 
marbled  in  white,  cost  $11.20  with  adhesive. 
Roy  laid  tiles  dry  for  a  first  test,  moved  them 
a  bit  lo  allow  an  even  border.  Ready  to  start, 
he  adhesived  half  the  floor.  Working  pyra- 
mid-style, he  pressed  first  tile  into  place  in 
center,  next  ones  above  and  at  either  side, 
until  the  floor  was  covered.  For  odd-sized 
border,  extra  squares  were  warmed  (an  oven 
does  fine),  then  scored  deeply  with  an  ice 
pick — tiles  broke  neatly  and  fitted  to  a  T. 

\I)1)KI)  A1TRACTIONS 


The 


bath  was  real  and  gleaminjj! 


Up  went  a  berry-red  shower  curtain.  A 
clothes  hamper  became  free-wheeling  with 
casters  screwed  to  the  bottom;  Roy  built  a 
shelf  over  it  to  prevent  top's  being  cluttered. 
A  snow-white  cabinet  ($3)  hangs  high,  hold- 
ing bath  needs  for  months  ahead. 

"OllR  PRIZE  LINEN  CLOSET" 

Matching  hallway  to  the  gay  bath  cost 
$18.86  for  floor  tile  and  fabric.  In  16"  space 


Linvn  closet  Rowlands  built  holds  blankets,  sheets, 
towels,  tablecloths  in  small  unused  space  behind  the 
hall  door.  l\ew  clothes  closet  is  two  feet  deep. 


l>clMiid  till'  hall  door,  Rowlandu  built  a  linen 
closel  ihal  gives  22  square  feel  of  sIh  II 
storage.  Roy  tolals:  "  Took  Ichh  'n  half  a  <lay, 
and  cost  $17.07  for  wood."  Frame  is  made 
of  I  X  2'h  faslened  lo  ceiling,  2  x  4's  lo  door. 
L(dt  side  is  a  wall,  anil  riglit  side  is  plywood. 
Huill-in  shelves  hold  all  linens.  "I'rclliesi 
part  is  the  pidl-down  shade!"  opines  i)o|. 
She  made  il  of  flowery  wall  fabric  —  (toy 
lacked  it  to  a  window-shade  roller  he  hung 
inside  the  froni  frame.  Lowered,  il  keeps 
out  dust  and  blends  with  ihe  background. 

I  heir  brand-new  (  lollies  closel  (see  floor 
plan)  gave  Dot  hanging  space  plus  two 
welcome  extra  shelves  for  "those  Sunday- 
go-to-meetin'  hats  I  love  to  make."- 

m  i  i"  IN  ANY  HOUSE 

Dot  irons  a  dress  or  curtain  pnkilv,  Iml 
was  dubious  on  shirts  uiilil  Roy  gave  a 
lesson  on  collars:  "Iron  each  side,  lo  dry  il 
out.  Finger-press  the  collar  down  at  the 
seam,  curving  it  to  fit  round  the  neck." 
Result:  a  good-looking  husband  every  time. 

Handy  al  home  arts  herself.  Dot  cane- 
.seats  a  stool  with  traditional  Teiniessee  skill. 
"I  buy  frames  from  a  boys'  woodwork  class, 
but  city  folks  could  use  those  footstool 
frames  the  stores  sell  for  needlepoint." 
Over  the  frame  she  winds  Chinese  raffia 
lengthwise,  then  in  and  out.  Work  takes  an 
afternoon,  and  materials  cost  $3.20.  Tight- 
ened and  protected  by  varnish,  it's  a  sturdy 
low  chair — handsome  idea  for  TV  viewers! 


Roy  explains  how  shirt  collar  .should  be  ironed — 
he  took  an  all-boys'  home-ec  course  at  school. 


Favorite  chair  in  the  household:  a  cane- 
seated  stool  made  by  Dot  in  half  a  day, 
destined  for  long  use  as  family  heirloom. 


TItrn  'll  lit-  no  (  ryitt/f  over  spilled  null,  ij 
only  top  of  slip  rover  has  lo  /«•  uiisliril. 


Slip  covers  willi  (ioiiiK  <-s  iii.nfi- 
h(-|iaralely,  to  hiiuji  on  or  allucli 
to  cushion  linings,  cut  laundry 
work  in  half.  Only  lop  is  wasliril 
when  accidentally  )nf)ilcrl.  I^cis 
ironing,  too—  ujijmt  part,  put 
on  slightly  damp,  dries  snioolh. 

Cottf)n-sliag  rugs  wash  as  easily 
as    towels    if    you  combine 
washer-size  rug  sections  with  snap-fastener 
tape  lo  cover  large  floor  area. 

Klectric  healing  pads  may  l>c  llic  perfect  an- 
swer for  thawing  frozen  wal(7r  "pipes.  Use  a 
cord — but  nothing  metallic — to  tie  tliem  tight 
around  tlic  pipes. 

It's  unlucky  lo  paint  a  ladder.  Paint  hides 
weak,  split  wood — makes  rungs  slippery  loo. 
Ladder  preserved  with  linseed  oil  is  good- 
looking  and  doesn't  provoke  accidents. 

Half  a  rubber  hall,  slit  and  slipped  onto  a 
paintbrush  handle,  will  catch  drippings  when 
you  paint  a  ceiling  or  high  wall. 


Gay  plastic  fabrics  make 
into  shower  curtains  with 
no  need  to  join  panels  for 
uidtli.  Hang  one  at  each 
-ide.  theatrical-curtain  fash- 
lilt).  Attractive,  they  draw_ 
Idgetiier  for  protection. 

Shirt  collars  turned  up  when 
put  into  washer  wear  longer. 


Lilt  lint  from  dark  wool  with  cellulose  tape 
wrapped  stickv  side  out  around  fingers.  A  few 
light  pats  do  it. 

Scotch  a  scorch — your  ironing-board  cover 
won't  brown  so  easilv  if  washed  before  using. 
One  exception:  those  marked  "desized"'  have 
already  had  starchy  stiffening  removed,  are 
ready  for  use  without  laundering. 

Hems  on  the  level?  To  keep  bias-cut  skirt 
from  taking  on  a  scallop,  iron  in  direction  of 
the  threads — diagonally  from  hem  to  belt. 


Wallpaper  border,  pasted 
and  ready  to  hang,  is  sim- 
pler to  handle  if  loosely 
looped  like  a  queen's  rufl. 

Vinegar  cruets  are  freed  of 
inner  stain  if  you  add  a 
tablespoon  of  airmionia  or 
borax  to  wash  water. 


Extra  yardage  of  flowery  wall  fabric  can  line 
lingerie  drawers^— charming  to  see,  easy  to 
sponge  fresh  and  clean,  thriftily  longdjisting. 


White  paint  liarmonizes  odds  and  ends 
of  furniture  for  this  charming 
bhie-and-white  guest  room.  Washable 
cottons,  home  sewn,  and  milk-glass 
accessories  add  the  glamour. 


HAROLD  FOWLER 


Welcome  -friends! 


This  little  storeroom  became 

the  charming  guest  room  shown  above. 


WHEN  Dot  Rowland  showed  us  her 
pantry  storeroom,  she  said  hope- 
fully, "Do  you  think  I  can  make  this 
into  a  little  guest  room?"  We  did  think 
so,  especially  after  we  saw  how  Dot  and 
Roy  had  remodeled  their  old  house.  Our 
plans  developed  a  cotton  room,  and  the 
same  idea  will  work  for  you,  too,  in  any 
size  room  and  carrying  out  your  favorite 
two-color  scheme. 

Using  white  against  blue,  rose-pink, 
yellow  or  green  walls,  if  you  prefer, 
creates  a  dazzling  cameo  effect.  All  the 
furniture  shown  in  the  color  photo- 

Mlii  Henrietta  Nlurdaeh 

Interior  Decoration  Editor  of  the  Journal 


graph  is  secondhand  or  pieces  which 
were  already  in  the  house,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  inexpensive  chest  and 
night  table  w'hich  were  bought  unpainted 
in  a  department  store,  enameled  and 
then  decorated  in  a  freehand  design, 
using  some  of  the  blue  M'all  paint. 

The  quaint  spread  is  a  modern  copy 
of  an  old  one,  and  the  milk-glass  pieces 
also  are  reproductions.  The  blue  per- 
cale seat  covers,  the  swiss  bed  ruffles 
and  the  frilly  curtains,  as  well  as  the 
machine-braided  rug,  are 
all   inexpensive  cotton.  / 


Hon  immiim 

/I 


CHARLES  M.  COWDEN 


A    I)    I    V.  S 


II   i»   M  i: 


121 


Softer/ 
still 

Softer! 


New  ScotTissue  is 
softer  than  ever  — 
whiter,  with  greater  body 
.  .  .  af  no  increQse  in  price 

Papermaking  science  now  makes  it 
possible !  Scott's  revolutionary  new  "water- 
weaving  "  process  brings  you  and  your 
family,  this  great  increase  in  softness. 
Only  Scott  makes  a  tissue  tfiis  way. 

Whiter,  too!  The  new  ScotTissue  is 
made  only  with  pure  "white"  pulp. 

This  new  improved  ti§sue  i*now  on  sale 
at  your  grocer's.  It  is  another  great  Scott 
paper  value  and  is  going  to  be  more 
popular  than  ever.  Be  sure  you  get  a 
supply  for  your  family  right  now! 


"ScotTissue,"  Reg.  U.  S.  Pot.  Oft 


New  ScotTissue  is  softer  than  ever  for  baby's  thinner  skin,  yet 
with  the  firm  strength  you  want  to  prevent  tearing  or  shredding. 


1,000  sheets -over  Vi  more 
than  the  650  sheets  you  get 
from  most  other  brands 


1,000  Sheets  fo  a  roll! 

2  rolls  of  ScotTissue  give  you  more  sheets 
than  3  rolls  of  most  other  brands 


[22 


HonAmmiim 


By  DOROTHY  KOWLAKD 

ROY  loves  to  eat — boasts  that  I'm  the  best 
.  cook  in  the  county.  With  his  appetite, 
every  day  is  baking  day  for  me.  He  likes  a  dif- 
ferent hot  bread  every  morning  for  breakfast. 
Roy  says  he's  been  spoiled  by  my  baking. 

During  the  winter  months  after  the  crops  are 
in,  I  have  more  free  time  to  try  new  recipes  than 
in  the  summer. 

We  both  enjoy  having  groups  of  our  young 
married  neighbors  in  for  an  evening.  I  usually 
serve  punch  and  cookies,  and  hot  buttered 
popcorn — popped  as  fast  as  they  can  eat  it. 

On  Sunday  mornings,  I'm  busy  too — making 
apple  pancakes  as  fast  as  Roy  can  eat  them. 


Jlo#'«  Apple  Paneakest  Sift  together  Wi 
cups  flour,  l-i  teaspoon  salt,  23  2  teaspoons  baking 
powder  and  1  tablespoon  sugar.  Beat  1  egg  until 
light  and  combine  with  cups  milk  and 
3  tablespoons  melted  butter  or  margarine.  Add 


to  the  dry  ingredients  and  mix  thoroughly.  One 
cup  chopped  peeled  apple  may  be  added  to 
the  batter.  Try  adding  chopped  apple  when 
you  make  pancakes  from  a  mix  too.  Bake  on  a 
hot  griddle,  turning  once.  If  necessary,  grease 
the  griddle  very  lightly.  Makes  about  12  pan- 
cakes. Serve  with  maple  sirup  or  table  sirup, 
and  sausages  or  bacon. 


Pin-Whttvl  L'wffevfalee:  Prepare  a  hot  roll 
mix  according  to  the  directions  on  the  package. 
Roll  out  into  a  rectangular  shape  18"  long  and  9" 


wide.  Spread  with  3  table- 
spoons melted  butter 
or  margarine.  Sprinkle  with  '2  cup  sugar  mixed 
with  1^  2  teaspoons  cinnamon.  Now  fold  the  rec- 
tangle in  thirds,  making  the  sheet  6"  long  and 
9"  wide.  Cut  into  9  strips — 1"  wide  and  6"  long. 
Roll  up  1  strip  and  stand  on  cut  edge  in  center  of  a 
greased  baking  sheet  or  10"  baking  pan.  Roll  up 
remaining  8  strips  in  similar  manner,  but  leave 
a  2"  tail.  Stand  these  rolls  on  edge  around  the 
center  roll  with  the  tail  end  toward  the  center. 
Let  rise  until  double  in  bulk.  Bake  in  a  moder- 
ately hot  oven,  375°  F.,  20—25  minutes.  While 
warm,  frost  with  a  confectioners'  sugar  icing 
and  garnish  with  candied  cherries  or  walnuts. 


Ffirorite  i'upui'i'rs:  Grease  muffin  pans  or 
custard  cups  generously  and  heat 
them  in  a  hot  oven  while 


you  mix  the  batter.  Sift  1  cup  flour 
Vi  teaspoon  salt.  Add  2  eggs,  1  cup  milk  and 
2  teaspoons  melted  butter  or  margarine.  Beat 
together  with  rotary  beater  until  smooth — about 
2  minutes.  Fill  sizzling-hot  greased  muffin  pans 
or  custard  cups  %  full.  Bake  in  a  very  hot  oven, 
450°  F.,  20  minutes.  Then  reduce  the  heat  to 
350°  F.  and  continue  baking  15  minutes  longer. 
Turn  oven  off  and  let  popovers  remain  in  the 
oven  10  minutes  to  become  more  crisp.  Makes  6. 


Blue-itibbon  Cherry  Fie:  Drain  1  No.  2  can 
pitted  red  sour  cherries  packed  in  water.  Mix  23  2 
tablespoons  cornstarch,  13^  cups  sugar  and  a 
pinch  of  salt  with  the  cherry  juice  and  cook  until 
mixture  is  thickened  and  clear,  stirring  con- 
stantly. Add  the  cherries,  2  teaspoons  lemon 


juice,  1  tablespoon 
butter  or  margarine  and  3i  tea- 
spoon almond  extract.  Cool  slightly. 
Line  an  8  "  piepan  with  pastry.  Fill.  Cover  with 
top  crust,  flute  the  edge  and  prick  the  top.  For  a 
more  festive  touch  make  a  lattice  pastry  top  with 
stars  in  between.  Bake  in  a  hot  oven,  425°  F.,  10 
minutes.  Reduce  heat  to  350°  F.  and  bake 

30  minutes  longer. 


Blaekherrff  -  Jam  Calee: 

Cream  '  2  cup  butter  or  mar- 
garine with  1  cup  sugar  un- 
til light  and  fluffy.  Add 
2  well-beaten  eggs.  Sift  to- 
gether 2  cups  flour,  3  teaspoons 


ii  irii"lih 


III  sill-  Imkr 
fliciiy  pie? 

\{<>y  suy>i  1 
;;iii(il  one,"  1 

anil  ;isks 
III  -iTi mil-.. 


baking  powder,  '4  teaspoon  sail,  I  teaspoon  cin- 
namon anil  '1  teaspoon  nutincfj.  Ailil  iliy  in- 
{^i(nlienls  to  llie  ei'eamed  mixture  alteriialely 
with  1  enp  sour  milk  or  buttermilk  wliieb  lias 
been  mixeil  with  teaspoon  bakinji  soda.  Beat 
until  smooth.  Add  1  cup  blackberry  jam,  'H  cup 
seedless  raisins,  '2  cup  chopped  jjceans,  I  box 
shredded  coconut,  finely  chopped,  and  I  teaspoon 
vanilla.  Mix  well.  Pour  into  two  9"  layer  cake 
pans  which  have  been  greased,  lined  with  wax 
|)aper  and  greased  again.  Bake  in  moderate  oven, 
.'5.50  F.,  45  minutes.  Remove  from  pans.  Cool. 

Bmivn-Siigar  Frosting:  Combrne  2  cups 
brown  sugar,  2  unbeaten  egg  whites, 
h  cup  hot  water  and  a  pinch 
of  salt  in  the  top  of  a 
double  boiler.  Place  over 
boiling  water  and  beat 
constantly  with  a  rotary 
beater  for  7  minutes,  or  until 
frosting   stands   in  stiff 
peaks.  Flavor  with  1  tea- 
spoon vanilla.  Frost  layers 
and  while  still  moist  press 
finely  chopped  pecans 
into  sides  of  cake. 


n 


ttlavli-Walnut  3lurariMHH*:  Add  H  tea- 
spoon salt  to  2  egg  whites  and  beat  until  stiff  but 
not  dry.  Gradually  add  1  cup  confectioners'  sugar, 
beating  well  after  each  addition.  Fold  in  '  2  cup 
chopped  black  walnuts  and  '4  teaspoon  almond 
extract.  Drop  by  teaspoonfuls  onto  ungreased 
brow  n  paper  on  baking  sheet.  Sprinkle  tops  with 
finely  chopped  black  walnuts.  Bake  in  a  mod- 
erate oven,  3.50°  F.,  about  20  miiuites  until  the 


macaroons  are  a  delicate  brown.  Remove  from 
paper.  Makes  36  small  macaroons. 
Ihilnival-itniv  St/uart'M:  Cream  1  cup  but- 
ler or  margarine  with  1  cui)  brown  sugar.  Dis- 
solve '  2  teaspoon  baking  soda  in  '2cu[)  hoi  water. 
Put  enough  ijuiek-cooking  oats  through  food 
grinder  to  make  2  cups.  (Combine  with 
2  cups  flour.  2  teaspoons  baking  pow  - 
der, and  '4  teaspoon  salt.  Add  to 
creamed  mixture alternatelv 
with  the  hot  water.  Add  I 
teaspoon  vanilla.  Mix  well 
and  chill. 

Dair  FiUiiig:  Cut  1  pack- 
age pitted  dales  into  small 
pieces.  Add  1  cup  sugar 
j^jf  and  1  cup  cold  water  and 

cook  until  thii  k. 
stirring  occasimi- 
ally.  Add  '2  tea- 
spoon vanilla  and 
slightly.  To  HI! 
out  a  small 
portion  of  the  dough  on  a  floured 
board  into  a  rectangle.  Work  quickly, 
as  the  dough  softens  in  a  warm 
room.  Spread  half  of  the  rectangle 
with  some  of  the  date  filling. 
Fold   other   half  over,  sandwich- 
wise.  Cut  into  1'2"  squares.  Place 
on  greased  baking  sheet  and  bake 
in  a  moderately  hot  oven,  375°  F.,  15 
minutes.  Makes  7  dozen. 


IHd-l^'aHlihun'il  ihnii§hnHlH:  Sift  together  2 
(  lips  Hour,  teaspoon  sail.  3  teaspoons  baking 
powder.  4  teaspoon  cinnamon,  's  teaspoon  nut- 
meg and  '2  cup  sugar.  Heat  1  egg  with  '2  cup 
milk.  Add  to  dry  ingredients  with  2  tablespoons 
melted  shortening  or  salad  oil.  Mix  dough 
lightly  and  roll  out  H"  thick  on  lightly  floured 
board.  Cut  with  floured  doughnut  culler.  Fry  a 
few  at  a  time  in  hot  shortening  or  salad  f)il.  365° 
F.,  until  golden  brown  on  both  sides.  Drain  on 
|)aper  toweling.  Roll  some  of  ihe  doughnuts 
in  confectioners'  sugar.  Makes  12  dunkers"  de- 
lights. Don't  forget  the  holes.  These  "little  big- 
guns"  are  just  as  good  eating  as  the  doughnuts. 


cool 
cookies,  rol 


I'HOTOS  BY  DONALD  STUARr 


124 


I,    ^DTES'       no    ME       JOURN  AL 


February,  1 


THIS  AIADDIN  5-ROOM  HOUSE 

*1974 


FREIGHT  PAID 

Slightly  Higher  West  of  Missouri  River 


YOU  CAN  BUILD  THIS  ALADDIN  READI-CUT 
HOUSE  YOURSELF... and  Save  Hundreds  of  Dollars! 

Imagine  receiving  A  COMPLETE  HOUSE  IN  ONE  SHIPMENT— ready  to  erect!  You 
get  everything  needed.  The  lumber  is  the  finest — every  piece  THOROUGHLY  DRY. 
And  it  comes  to  you  the  EXACT  SIZE  needed — cut  at  the  mill  by  fast,  precision  machines. 
No  stopping  to  measure  and  saw  each  piece!  (You  save  as  much  as  30%  on  labor- — 18% 
on  waste)  AND  YOU  CAN  CHOOSE  FROM  99  INDIVIDUAL  PLANS— beautiful, 
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mS  IS  THE  WAY  TO  BEAT  THE  HIGH  COST  OF  BUILDING! 


-Biiii ir\jAf»  With  ^krpenters  getting  up  to 
JBVILO  TOW  524  a  day  think  how  much  you 
OWN  HOME  building  your  own 

Aladdin  house!  Carpentry  work 
runs  from  300  to  1200  hours,  depending  on  the 
house  you  choose.  Even  if  you  hire  help  you  save 
because  most  of  the  expensive,  time-consuming 


labor  (measuring  and  cutting)  has  been  done  at 
the  mill.  No  wonder  Aladdin  houses  are  so  easy  to 
build — and  at  a  cost  that  often  compares  favorably 
WITH  PRE-WAR  COSTS!  Drawings  and  instruc- 
tions are  simple  to  follow  and  cover  everything 
from  foundation  up.  More  than  half  the  Aladdin 
houses  sold  have  been  erected  by  buyers  themselves! 


WHAT  YOU  GET  when 

YOU  BUY  AN  ALADDIN  HOUSE 

•  ALL  THE  LUMBER  accurately  cut  to  fit, 
marked  and  numbered  readylo erect 
practically  without  use  of  a  saw. 


SIDING 

FLOORING 

DOORS 

HARDWARE 

PAINT 

TRIM 


MILLWORK 

MOULDINGS 

WINDOWS 

GLASS 

ROOFING 

NAILS 


COIMPLETE  DRAWINGS  &  INSTRUCTIONS 


WHAT  READI-CUT  MEAN 


IMMEDIATE  DELIVERY 


The  picture  at  the  right 
shows  how  each  piece 
of  Aladdin  lumber  is 
cut  to  EXACT  size  at 
the  mill — mitred  and 
bevelled  for  perfect  fit. 
Aladdin  houses  are  de- 
signed to  meet  the  most 
exacting  building 
standards  in  both  con- 
struction and  materials. 


GOOD  HOUSES  NEVER  GROW  OLD  —  V 
ALADDIN  HOUSES  ARE  NOT  PREFABRICATED/ 

THE  AIADDIN  CO. 

BAY  CITY,  MICHIGAN 


CTlOf 

OR  . 


PIO^EER$>»-l»5:t 

(Continued  from  Page  114) 


Mia!'"" 


the  football  team.  "The  other  guys  didn't 
dare  kid  us,  but  they  hung  around  the  door 
a  lot.  When  we  began  to  feed  'em  our  choco- 
late cakes  and  hot  biscuits,  darned  if  they 
didn't  start  hoUerin'  to  get  into  the  class." 
Roy  was  doubly  glad  of  his  new  skills  when 
his  mother  fell  incurably  ill  of  cancer,  and 
he  and  his  brother  did  all  the  housework, 
laundry  and  cooking. 

There  is  no  such  thing  as  "woman's"  or 
"man's"  work  in  the  Rowland  household. 
If  the  weather  keeps  Roy  indoors,  he  dries 
the  dishes  while  Dot  washes,  helps  make  up 
the  big  double  bed,  runs  the  vacuum.  At 
canning  time,  if  it's  rainy,  he's  at  the  job 
with  her.  (Dot  felt  he  was  carrying  things  a 
bit  far,  however,  when  he  demonstrated  with 
an  iron  exactly  how  he  liked  his  white  Sun- 
day shirts  done  up!)  In  good  weather,  Dot  is 
constantly  at  his  side,  whether  in  the  corn- 
field, shearing  sheep  or  chopping  cotton. 

The  vegetable  garden,  about  a  quarter  of 
an  acre,  is  her  special  province.  By  the  end 
of  February,  Roy  has  plowed  and  she  has 
planted  Irish  potatoes  and  English  peas, 
onions,  radishes,  mustard  greens,  carrots, 
beets  and  lettuce.  Later  she  will  put  in 
tomatoes,  peppers,  snap  beans,  Limas, 
crowder  peas,  cucumbers,  squash,  okra, 
melons,  sweet  potatoes,  sweet  corn,  popcorn 
and  peanuts.  Along  the  borders  she  sows 
bright  zinnias,  marigolds  and  petunias,  safely 
fenced  in  from  her  200  marauding  Leghorns. 
Most  of  the  food  shows  up  eventually  in  neat 
rows  of  jars— 400  of  them  this  year— enough 
to  spread  a  lavish  table  until  next  summer. 

"  It  never  seems  like  work  if  we  do  things 
together,"  explains  Dot. 

"Those  two  aren't  apart  more'n  about  an 
hour  a  month,"  estimates  Dot's  mother. 
"  It's  enough  to  tickle  a  dog  to  death  the  way 
Roy  watches  the  clock  when  Dot  goes  off  to 
some  women's  meeting.  When  Roy's  out  on 
the  tractor  in  all  kinds  of  weather.  Dot's 
always  hangin'  on  back  of  it." 

Dot's  decision  to  quit  high  school  and  get 
married  the  spring  of  her  senior  year  caused 
considerable  dismay  among  her  teachers.  Her 
outstanding  4-H  Club  record  and  95-average 
school  marks  had  won  her  a  college  scholar- 
ship from  a  baking-powder  company.  Dot 
turned  it  down  firmly.  "I  know  what  I  want 
to  be — a  farmer's  wife.  I  know  all  I  need  to 
know  to  start  now.  Farm  prices  are  high.  In 
four  years,  after  I  finish  college,  maybe  they 
won't  be  so  good." 

One  of  her  teachers  took  her  aside  and 
asked  anxiously,  "Dot.  what  if  something 
should  happen  to  Roy  and  you  didn't  have 
a  high-school  diploma?" 

Dot  laughed.  "I  was  raised  in  a  cotton 
field."  The  teacher  brightened.  "And  you  can 
always  cook." 

"Best  cook  anywheres  around,"  Roy 
fondly  describes  his  young  wife,  looking  at 
her  with  his  heart  in  his  eyes. 

Every  noonday  dinner  looks  like  Thanks- 
giving al  this  house.  For  good  reason  too. 
They  have  both  put  in  eight  hours  of  hard 
labor  by  the  time  they  sit  down  at  the  kitchen 
table.  Roy  reverently  says  grace,  as  he  does 
at  every  meal:  "Dear  heavenly  Father, 
thank  Thee  for  this  day— thank  Thee  for 
this  food."  Dot  passes  him  a  big  platter  of 
Swiss  steak  and  five  big  serving  bowls — 
heaped  with  crowder  peas  cooked  in  salt 
pork,  macaroni  and  cheese,  stewed  tomatoes, 
carrots,  snap  beans — and  hot  com  bread. 
For  dessert  she  brings  out  a  dozen  custard- 
lilled  cream  puffs  with  chocolate  icing. 
"Roy's  just  about  burned  out  on  cherry 
pie,"  says  the  champion  pie  baker  wistfully. 

Roy  and  Dot  first  began  to  notice  each 
other  when  they  were  introduced  as  the  most 
outstanding  boy  and  girl  in  Vannatta,  a 
community  of  some  46  farm  families.  Roy 
was  struck  by  Dot's  "  big  laugh  "  and  "  pretty 
yellow  hair."  Dot  was  taken  by  Roy's  big 
blond  good  looks  and  bashful  smile,  but  was 
equally  impressed  with  the  fine  reputation 
he  had  made  turning  his  father's  place  into  a 
TVA  demonstration  farm,  using  the  latest 
and  most  .scientific  methods. 


Although  she  had  never  lacked  for  beaq 
Dot  had  refused  to  go  steady  with  any 
until  she  met  Roy.  He,  on  the  other  hai\ 
was  consistently  dating  a  4-H  Club  biscu 
baking  champion.  Dot  began  baking  bj 
some  of  her  delicious,  golden^crusted  cheil 
pies.  "Guess  my  sweet  tooth  won  out,"  grn 
Roy,  warding  off  Dot's  indignant  poke. 

The  two-  began  dating  once  every  t 
weeks,  then  once  a  week.  Before  they  w( 
married,  it  was  every  night  until  1  or  2  a.i 
with  both  of  them  having  to  get  up  at  4  a„ 
"Don't  know  how  we  lived  through  iii 
wonders  Roy. 


.ilit< 


i0' 


,'IlO 

■0' 


itbtoi 


They  were  married  at  the  home  of 
parents  before  the  admiring  smiles  of  ai 
85  kinfolk.  Dot  was  radiant  in  a  white  sati 
and-lace  gown,  store  bought  at  a  great 
duction  because  of  the  scarcity  of  Sizei 
brides.  Refreshments  of  fruit  punch,  a 
wiches,  home-baked  wedding  cake,  nuts  ai 
chocolate  kisses  followed  the  10:30  A, 
double-ring  ceremony.  (Roy  had  been  up 
four,  as  usual,  to  milk  the  cows.)  Their  we 
ding  picture  appeared  on  the  front  page  ol 
Nashville  paper  and  evoked  an  editorial 
congratulation  from  Knoxville.   Dot  w. 
presented  with  a  cash  award  as  Self-Risii 
Bride  of  the  Year  from  a  flour  compaij 
which  paid  for  a  four-day  motor  trip 
Florida,  the  first  time  the  bride  had  ev 
slept  outside  of  Tennessee. 

Back  from  their  honeymoon,  the  t 
moved  in  with  Roy's  father,  "Mr.  Joel 
while  they  worked  to  fix  up  their  prei 
home,  which  had  been  occupied  for  son 
years  by  a  tenant  family,  and  had  bet- 
neglected  for  years  previous.  The  newli| 
weds  spent  two  days  just  heating  wat( 
and  washing  and  disinfecting  the  floor 
Wallpaper  was  peeling  off,  the  woodwoi 
and  ceilings  were  black  with  stove  soot 
and  Roy  decided  to  fix  up  only  three  of  tl 
six  rooms  and  for  ten  days  scrubbed,  painti 
wallpapered,  laid  linoleum,  and  hacked  awi 
at  the  wilderness  of  shrubs  obscuring  t' 
windows.  Roy  painted  the  outside  a  gle; 
ing  white.  Since  Dot's  father  gave  them 
the  paint  and  wallpaper,  the  renovating  coi 
them  only  $50.  (Before  their  marriage,  thd 
had  saved  $1300  from  such  4-H  Club  pro. 
ects  as  cotton,  beef,  pig  and  chicken  raising! 

Buying  furniture  took  several  weeks 
Roy  and  Dot  traipsed  from  one  store  to 
other,   carefully   comparing   quality  an' 
prices,  until  they  settled  for  a  bedroom  sui' 
in  bleached  modem  ("  Dark  mahogany  loci 
silly  in  a  farm  home,"  believes  Dot)  and 
sofa  and  two  armchairs  upholstered  in  di 
able  plastic,  all  for  $485.  The  high-ceilingei 
rooms  are  big,  sun-flooded  and  immaculate 
although  Dot  spends  only  about  an  hou" 
and  a  half  a  day  on  housework — "A  whirl' 
wind  on  two  legs,"  Roy's  granny  calls  hei 

When  the  young  couple  set  up  housekeep- 
ing, their  parents  gave  them  a  silverware  sei 
and  a  year's  supply  of  meat  (half  a  beef  aro 
1  hog),  20  chickens  and  5  handmade  qui! 
Four  different  communities  showered  tht 
bride.  Dot  counted  30  bed  sheets,  26  pilloW' 
cases,  40  towels,  6  canister  sets,  7  juice  sets 
as  well  as  lots  of  bric-a-brac.  She  sorted  away 
exactly  what  she  needed,  then  loaded  in 
boxes  the  duplicates.  With  Roy  carryini 
them  behind  her,  she  marched  into  Shelby- 
ville,  traded  shrewdly  for  necessities  like  ' 
paring  knives,  pots,  even  long  underweari ' 
for  Roy.  "  I  didn't  mind  carrying  the  stuff,"('ii 
says  Roy,  "but  I  got  kinda  red  under  the  i; 
collar  when  all  the  dmgstore  cowboys  began  ifj 
gaping  and  whistling  at  Dot."  By  the* 
time  they  moved  into  the  house,  all  theyi 
had  to  buy  was  .a  tea  kettle.  i 

The  same  kind  of  business  sense  is  applied 
to  their  farming.  Their  eight-acre  cotton, 
patch  is  one  of  the  largest  cultivated  by  a 
young  couple  in  the  county,  and  it  is  all 
profit  because  the  Rowlands  do  without  any: 
help.  During  the  two-month  drought  last 
June  and  July,  when  the  temperature  hit 
105°  and  107°  and  the  cotton  plants  looked 
"like  you  had  poured  boiling  water  over 
'em,"  Dot  and  Roy  spent  as  much  as  ten 


to»v 


0I« 


If 


I    \  I)  I 


II  II 


Ml  I     II     I       II      N     \  I 


H  rsa  (lay  clioi)|)iii«  (liaiid  cultivating  witli 
n!  K').  "Worsc'ii  pickiii'  cotton,  'cause  you 
,   never  cliaii^;e  your  position,"  says  Dot. 

',  nless  you  can  lioe  left  -  as  well  as  ri^ht- 
I  (led,"  says  ambidextrous  Koy. 

luce  times  during  the  summer  they 
i  pped  the  ei>;lil-acre  field,  as  well  as  cul- 
(lilinn  the  corn  crop  by  tractor.  When 
in^  time  came  in  Septi'mber  Roy  was  in 
hclds  by  ()A.M.,  drauninn  behind  him  a 
l'H)t  canvas  ban-  When  lull,  it  lu'ld  (>() 
mils  of  cotton.  I'ickin^^  two  rows  at  a  time 
I  iisiHK  both  hands  al  once,  Roy  would 
1^  the  cotton  from  the  bolls  with  a  dex- 
i\  born  of  lonn  experience.  As  soon  as 
Imisiied  in  the  house.  Dot  would  join 
1  with  an  identical  bat;  strapped  over  her 
III  shoulders.  Itotli  can  pick  around  2(K) 
mils  in  a  ten-hour  day.  Since  colLon 
ki  I  S  earned  \  cents  a  pound  last  summer, 
\  saved        a  d;iy  doinn  il  themselves. 
\ly  brothers  and  father  and  I,  we  could 
I  :i  thousand  pounds  a  day.  Seems  slow 
ill  iusl  Dot  and  me,"  says  Roy.  "Hut  Ihe 
I  Im  nce  is,  Ihis  is  our  own  coUon."  It  took 
■111  alH)ul  18  days  to  complete  the  first 
kmu,  then,  with  a  week's  rest,  they  started 
(ivcr  auain.  Some  ninhts  Roy  would  soak 
a  hot  tub  for  an  hour  to  relieve  his 
amped  neck  and 


'our  milk 


oiilders.  Some 
ornin^js  he  could 
)l  strainhlen  up 
lounh  to  tend  to 
le  cows,  and  at  his 
•11  for  help  Dot 
ould  come  on  the 
)uble.  But  in  an 
.)ur  or  two  he'd  be 
ack  in  the  cotton 
eld. 

Although  the 
rou,uht  played 
avoc  with  crops 
isl  vear.  the  Row- 
inds  cleared  $1(XX) 
n  their  eij^ht  acres 
f  cotton,  as  against 
258  for  thirty  acres 
f  corn.  Their  milk 
heck  — $50  semi- 
lonthly  from  a 
lieese  company — 
nd  the  eg.u  money 
om  Dot's  hens  pay 
II  their  cash  ex- 
L'nses.  "  If  only  we 
ad  a  Orade  A  cow 
;irn  like  Dot's  dad,"  says  Roy, 
ould  fetch  twice  the  money." 

Dot's  parents,  "the  best  mamma  and  dad 
girl  could  have,"  live  a  quarter  of  y  mile 
jwn  the  road  in  a  comfortable  red-bnck 
3use  with  250  acres.  Grover  Mankin,  a 
raight-backed,  blue-eyed,  handsome  man 
forty-five,  worked  himself  up  from  a 
inanl  farmer  to  one  of  the  most  respected 
ndowners  in  the  area.  Evelyn  Mankin, 
other  of  six  children,  is  a  youthful-looking 
rty  with  a  bright,  serene  face  which  relaxes 
isily  into  laughter.  When  Dot  and  Royocca- 
onally  go  to  a  picture  show  she  is  their 
vorite  companion— "a  barrel  of  fun,"  Roy 
ills  her.  Evelyn  knew  nothing  about  farm- 
g  when  she  married  at  sixteen. 

I  SOON  decided  that  where  the  wife  pitched 
and  helped  her  husband,  why,  those  were 
le  farm  couples  who  made  good."  When  her 
isband  was  laid  up  for  seven  months  with 
spected  tuberculosis,  Evelyn  Mankin 
lopped  nineteen  acres  of  cotton  three 
Ties  singlehanded.  with  three  tots  at  her 
ie  and  a  new  baby  in  the  house.  One  of  her 
lildren  died,  another  she  nursed  through 
)lio,  and  when  she  and  her  husband,  after 
2ven  years  of  scrimping  and  saving,  linally 
anaged  to  buy  some  land,  the  house  burned 
the  ground.  The  only  thing  Evelyn  saved 
is  a  snapshot  of  her  dead  child. 
With  characteristic  generosity,  the  com- 
unity  gave  the  Mankins  a  household 
ower,  a  contractor  cut  his  profit  to  almost 
ro  to  rebuild  the  house,  and  several  car- 
nters  gave  their  labor  for  nothing.  (After 
recent  fire  in  Vannalta,  the  farm  families 
mated  $1000  for  a  new  kitchen  for  the 
ird-hit  family.; 


A  House  is  Horn 

Ar  ihr  kili'licii  liildf  iii;ihl  ;i(|it 
nifihl,  ihi'v  srrilililril  shi  cis  of 
lifllires,  rtil  liouii,  aililcd  iip — ami 
starlcil  over.  hVaii  and  Hill  ( lalkiiis, 
who  lived  in  a  liny  Ncu  .ji-rsi-y 
walk-up  aparl  iiu-iil,  u  an  l<-<l  a  lioiiie 
of  llioir  (mil. 

Ami  now,  it's  Iriie:  longeil-l'or 
"garden  plol  riiniplele  willi  a  live- 
room  lioiiie  i.s  ihcirs  in  I'enii.-iy I- 
vania's  l)raiiil-ni-u  I  ,ev  i  I  low  n. 
^  ou"ll  enjoy  every  ininiili'  ofxnir 
visil  when  you  read 

THE  rk;  move 

l^y  Betty  lldiiinili  IIo/Jiikid 

How  Young  America  Lives 
in  the  Marrh  .Ioiirn  ai, 


Alxnit  (ive  years  a«o.  Ihe  Mankins  decided 
it  was  time  to  enlarge  Iheir  house  and  lo  add 
a  bathrixHn.  Alxnit  this  lime  |>)i,  |a-r 
brothers  and  older  sister  (now  a  rei.;islered 
nurse)  were  very  keen  on  buying  three  regis- 
tered .jerseys  as  show  cattle,  al  acosi  ofalKuil 
$:«XX)  or  ,S1(HX).  (irover  heard  them  out,  He 
consented  to  buy  the  cattle,  but  said  that  ii 
would  postpone  for  several  years  ih<-  luxury 
of  a  bathroom.  The  kids  went  into  a  hiuldle 
and  voted  for  llie  bathnxjin, 

"We  had  a  telephone  once,  for  alxnit  six 
months,"  sjiys  Mrs.  Mankin.  '•ICIeven  lami- 
lies  were  on  the  line.  Tick  up  the  |)lione  and 
you  could  hear  babies cryin',  r(X)slers  crowin'. 
cattle  bawhn',  men  cussin',  everything  but 
the  person  you  was  talkin'  lo." 

Dot  and  her  married  sister  ICmnia  have 
always  been  especially  close  lo  their  mother. 
"Some  mothers,  now,  their  hair  would  stand 
on  end,  the  things  my  girls  have  told  me." 
Siiys  Evelyn.  "Hut  they  know  noihin'  ever 
shocks  me." 

"You're  tix)  much  like  us,"  laugh  1>)1  and 
Emma,  and  Dot  goes  on: 

^Iamma  always  makes  a  jx-rson  feel 
g<K)d.  She  was  always  braggin'  on  what  we 
could  do,  and  th.il  made  us  try  even  harder." 

One  time,  how- 
ever, Evelyn  Man- 
kin did  all  she  could 
lo  dampen  Dot's 
zeal  lo  excel.  Each 
year  in  Bedford 
County  a  small  gold 
basketball  is  given 
to  the  best  girl  bas- 
ketball player  in 
grade  schcx)l.  Dot 
lost  the  trophy  by 
one  vote  in  the 
seventh  grade,  and 
was  determined  to 
win  il  the  next  year. 
The  day  before  the 
tournament,  how- 
ever, she  so  badly 
sprained  her  ankle 
that  she  was  carried 
home  from  school. 
All  day  she  worked 
on  the  ankle  with 
hot- water  baths  and 
mud  packs. 

"The  day  of  the 
tournament  it  was 
all  swelled  up  and 
bright  purple,  and  I  could  see  how  it  pained 
her,"  said  Evelyn.  "I  was  sick  in  bed,  but  I 
called  her  into  the  room  and  said  that  it  was 
too  bad  it  was  her  last  chance,  but  she 
couldn't  possibly  win.  "Bring  me  home  the 
good-sportsmanship  badge,  and  I'll  be  jest 
as  proud  of  you,'  I  told  her." 

Dot  departed  for  the  tournament,  her 
ankle  bound  in  tape  Evelyn's  flu  developed 
into  pneumonia.  The  tournament  stretched 
into  four  days,  and  no  sign  or  word  from  Dot. 
Finally  she  burst  into  her  sick  mother's 
room.  She  was  carrying  both  the  gold  basket- 
ball and  the  good-sportsmanship  badge. 
Later  they  discovered  her  ankle  had  been 
fractured.  It  is  still  larger  than  the  other  one. 

In  her  first  year  of  marriage.  Dot's  weight 
slipped  down  from  a  normal  116  pounds  to  a 
bony  97.  She  insisted  it  had  nothing  lo  do 
with  the  backbreaking  16-hour  day  she  and 
Roy  put  in  together.  A  specialist  her  worried 
mother  consulted  loaded  Dot  with  vitamin 
l^ills.  Her  family  doctor  nodded  wisely,  ex- 
plained to  the  bride  the  problems  of  adjust- 
ing from  a  widely  publicized  career  as  the 
outstanding  4-H  girl  in  Bedford  County  to 
a  plain  married  woman  where  the  rewards 
for  effort  are  not  so  obvious.  Now  she's 
gaining  at  a  rate  of  four  or  five  pounds  a 
month  and  the  hollows  in  her  cheeks  are 
beginning  to  till  out  When  she  gets  all  her 
strength  back,  the  babies  will  come  soon 
enough,  the  doctor  tells  her.  Dot  and  Roy 
want  about  six. 

"How  are  you  going  to  help  Roy  in  the 
fields  when  the  babies  come?"  Dot  was 
asked. 

"Carry  'em  out  in  a  basket.  Put  'em  to 
work  as  soon  as  they  can  toddle,  same  as 
mamma  did  us." 


Have  yoy  dkcoverad  the 

aff-purpose  DETERGENT  wi'th 


IJarii  II)  lii'lieve,  hut  true.  Full  detergent 
rleaii.-^in<i  \t<>\\cr.  f>liis  tlie  sollnes.-*  lo  vour 
lianiis  anil  ciotlie.s  of  the  iiiil<le.-<t  soa|). 

1'hat's  FELSO,  t lie  sensational] \  <Uf}er- 
eiit  all-[)iir|»o.<e  detergeiil.  There's  iiolhing 
like  it  .  .  nothing  so  Iragrant,  gentle  and 
pleasant  to  use. 

Try  FELSO.  See  how  it  saves  your 
hands  .  .  saves  your  clothes  .  .  gets  your 
wash  cleaner,  whiter,  hrighter  even  in  the 
hardest  water. 

Y  ou'll  love  those  soft,  soap-like  FELSO 
suds  for  dishwashing,  too. 

\\\\Ui|////. 

HIEW^?KffKlDir- 


wa$hesclothes^6f€^^| 


FELSO 


(DETERGENT) 


WE  GUARANTEE  that  FELSO  is  more 
pleasant  to  usp  tlian  an  v  otiirr  detergent. 


126 


I.   A    n    I    F,    S  '       HOME       JO    IT    J{    N    A  L 


February,  i9S.3  [ 


costs  no  more 
today  •  •  • 

saves  more  thru 
the  years  •  •  • 


AUTOMATIC 

WASHER 


the  only  automatic  washer  with 

Suds-Miser  r  Seven  Rinses 

Suds-Miser — stores  good,  sudsy  hot  water  for  re-use,  returns  it 
promi)tly  to  wash  successive  loads  as  Chnic-Clean  as  the  first ! 
Seven  Rinses — six  swiriing  spray  rinses  plus  one  deep-agitated 
rinse ...  to  rout  every  last  trace  of  soap  and  dirt ! 
Agiflow  Action  —Whirlpool's  perfected 
agitator  washing  method  sends  vitalized 
suds  surging  gently  through  fabrics. 
Germicidal  Lamp — Floods  clothes  with 
fade-free,  sunlike  rays  to  freshen  garments. 
Cycle-Tone  Signal — .Its  timely  call 
means  wash  is  done,  ready  for  your  Dryer. 


So  many  other  washday 
delights:  Flexible  Timing  .  .  . 
Automatic  Filling  .  .  .  Finger- 
tip Door  Release  .  .  .  5- Year 
Warranty  on  Transmission. 

Whirlpool  beauty  of  design  again 
honored  by  the  Fashjon  Academy. 


Beautiful  as  the  work  it  does! 

Your  Wonderful  Whirlpool  assures  you 
perfect  performance  ...  its  brilliant  design 
contributes  to  the  beauty  of  your  home. 
And  the  welcome  results  of  its  flawless  op- 
eration are  economy  of  time,  effort,  and 
money.  No  other  washer  gets  clothes  so 
clean,  so  gently,  at  such  savings.  You'll 
want  to  see  your  Whirlpool  dealer  today  1 


WHIRLPOOL- AMERICA'S    FIRST    FAMILY   IN    HOME  LAUNDERING 

WHIRLPOOL  CORPORATION ,  St.  Joseph.  Miclnnnn.  In  C.m„d„:  Jul,,,  l„ali>  Comvatiu.  Lid. 


As  darkness  falls  on  the  wintry  fields,  Roy 
goes  calling  the  cows  with  his  soft  "Sook, 
sook ! "  Dot  takes  water  out  to  the  chickens 
and  pigs,  and  runs  about  collecting  eggs. 
When  they  have  both  finished  the  milking, 
they  wander  back  to  the  house  hand  in  hand 
for  supper. 

Well  before  8  p.m.  they  have  climbed  into 
their  big  double  bed,  read  a  chapter  of  the 
Bible,  and  flicked  off  the  light.  The  world 


seems  very  far  away  in  the  peaceful  night. 
"  Who'd  waste  a  bomb  on  us,  way  out  here? 
Dot  remarks  sleepily.  There  is  no  sound  e! 
cept  the  crackle  of  dying  flames  in  the  firi! 
place,  the  whistle  of  the  wind  over  the  bare 
red  fields,  ready  for  the  spring  planting.  Roy 
and  Dot  can  think  of  nothing  they  want 
which  can't  be  accomplished  by  the  strength 
of  their  two  backs,  a  trust  in  God,  and  their 
shining  love  for  each  other. 


aiii' 


it »' 
if 


•0.  ' 


ClolhiiiK   .-{ft.OO 


Chiiroli  a 
Vied  if  a  I.    .  . 
It<-<'i'<-a(  ion 
(^hifkoii  I'eecl 


•ertilizer   3.j8.(Kt 


How  the  Rowlands  Spend  Their  Money 

Income 

Milk  <  he«  k   .^1200. 00 

Hogs   ;i6.i.00 

Clover   lUi.OO 

Coiiiliiiiing  ,    .  .jS.OO 

Lamhs   .58.00 

Cal*'   42.00 

So«   47.00 

Corn   2.)8.00 

Ct.lon   1000.00 

Efjps   100.00 

Tolal  !«.?2:{9.00 

Eleelrieily   $  78.00 

Iii.siiraiiee   261.8.5 

Gr.xeries   208.00 


77.00 
100.00 
110.00 
216.00 


.Seed  

Traetor  fuel  

Traelor  repairs  

Haby  «'liieken.s  

Secondhand  di.sk  harrow. 

Silo  

i.,ahor  to  fill  silo  

Lan<l  renl   . 


191.00 
129.91 
17..56 
."50.90 
81.80 
90.00 
I2.5.00 


.50.00 


Total  !{!2197.02 
.Savings  for  the  year.    .    .  )!;]041.98 


•  laiieof 
:  ijotbel 


Bildlib 
tod 

iiilierw 
■.iieiM 


jilla 

tiihel 
Sicrve 
jota 
listed  t 
littrasa 


MY  TRITE  SKLF 

(CnnliitHi'il  jroiii  Pane  41) 


father.  We  never  go  to  restaurants  or  dance 
halls  seeking  some  happy  chance  which  might 
lead  us  to  a  suitable  husband,  nor  do  we 
spend  long  hours  in  private  courtship,  as 
happens  in  Occidental  films  and  as  I  have 
seen  happen  during  my  travels. 

Even  when  King  Farouk  wooed  me  he 
came  to  my  father's  house  as  is  the  custom. 
He  was  the  King  and  my  father  did  not  even 
belong  to  Court  circles,  yet  it  would  have 
been  unthinkable  for  me  to  have  gone  to  the 
King.  It  was  the  Iving  who  came  to  me  and 
asked  my  father  for  my  hand  as  every  faith- 
ful Moslem  must  do. 

You  will  have  to  agree  with  me  that  it 
would  have  been  unlikely,  therefore,  that  I 
should  go  out  with  a  man  into  the  streets  of 
Cairo  on  a  shopping  expedition,  and  still 
more  unlikely  for  me  to  go  with  him  to  buy  a 
betrothal  ring. 

And  so  it  happened  that  I  knew  Zachi 
Hashem  only  very  slightly.  I  had  seen  him 
rarely  in  the  course  of  brief  interviews  in  the 
presence  of  my  father.  It  was  for  him  to  de- 
cide that  he  wanted  me  for  a  wife.  And  it  was 
for  my  father  to  decide  if  he  was  a  suitable 
husband  for  me.  Because  whatever  my  father 
decided,  I  knew  well,  would  be  wise  and  sen- 
sible. Yet  such  a  legend  has  grown  up  about 
me  that  one  would  almost  think  I  had  been 
literally  kidnaped. 

At  first  my  father  was  inclined  to  give  my 
hand  to  Zachi  Hashem  because  he  seemed  to 
my  father  a  man  with  prospects  of  a  good 
future.  My  father  wished  me  to  marry  well. 
He  submitted  Zachi  Hashem  to  several 
tests — I  do  not  know  how  many — difficult 
tests,  all  of  which  he  stood  up  to  honorably. 
I  believe  he  was  a  doctor  of  laws,  of  literature, 
of  sociology,  and  that  he  had  received  di- 
plomas from  various  other  faculties.  He 
never  was  happier  than  when  he  could  speak 
to  me  of  all  these  matters  and  of  his  academic 
qualifications  and  what  a  great  man  he  would 
be  in  the  future. 

I  was  excited  that  a  man  like  Zachi  Hashem 
wanted  to  marry  me,  for  he  held  an  impor- 
tant position  with  the  United  Nations,  which, 
as  he  told  me  proudly,  could  be  the  spring- 
board to  help  him  obtain  an  ambassador- 
ship, which  would  mean  a  life  of  great  pomp 
and  prestige  in  one  of  the  capitals  of  the 
world,  none  of  which  I  had  yet  seen. 

I  had  never  left  Egypt.  To  me  it  seemed  a 
magical  attraction,  that  as  the  wife  of  Zachi 
Hashem  I  might  one  day  visit  New  York, 
Paris,  London  or  Madrid.  I  was  only  sixteen 
and  had  just  left  school.  Like  all  young  girls, 
whatever  their  nationality  or  religion,  I  had 
often  dreamed  of  the  man  who  would  one 


\sitliai 


m  Ic 


day  come  and  ask  for  my  hand  in  marriage.  I 
dreamed  of  a  man  who  would  be  big,  friendly, 
amiable  and  gay.  I  would  be  his  pet  and  his' 
treasure  and,  after  a  few  years,  when  I  had 
acquired  more  wisdom,  he  would  confide  his, 
problems  to  me  and  allow  me  to  help  in  the^  ^' 
education  of  our  sons  and  daughters. 

I  love  laughter  and  music,  good  food,  gay- 
people,  and  all  the  beautiful  things  life  has 
to  offer.  I  also  like  to  study  the  faces  of' 
people  and  paint  their  portrait  when  they, 
interest  me.  I  have  little  patience  to  paint  a 
landscape,  but  every  unusual  face  attracts- 
me.  As  I  watched  Zachi  Hashem 's  face  I 
recognized  that  he  was  a  clever  man  who. 
would  be  successful  someday,  and  that  I 
should  lack  nothing  that  money  could  buy. 
He  had  a  serious  air  which  rather  attracted 
me,  and  yet  I  could  not  help  regretting  that 
he  was  so  thin  and  so  small,  for  he  was  only 
slightly  taller  than  myself  and  I  am  a  small 
person.  It  would  also  have  been  beyond  his. 
strength,  or  so  it  seemed  to  me,  for  him  ever X'.'''^ 
to  be  able  to  lift  me  off  my  feet 

Besides,  when  my  father  brought  Zachi 
Hashem  to  our  house  and  introduced  him  to 
the  family  as  the  man  who  would  take  me  to 
be  his  wife,  my  favorite  uncle,  Muslapha 
Sadek,  was  quite  angry.  Sadek  was  about  the 
same  age  as  Zachi  Hashem  and  is  the  sort  of 
uncle  to  delight  the  heart  of  a  young  girl  (he 
is  now  in  prison  because  he  was  our  friend). 
He  is  tall  and  very  good-looking.  In  the 
course  of  the  last  war  he  distinguished  him- 
self as  a  pilot.  However,  he  can  also  be  . 
gentle  and  kindly  and  is  not  a  pompous  man. '  1^7,  ^ 

He  said  at  once  that  it  would  be  impious  to 
wed  me  to  Zachi  Hashem,  however  brilliant 
the  career  of  this  man  might  be,  for  Zachi 
Hashem  was  not  a  true  Moslem. 

Zachi  Hashem  never  spoke  of  politics 


tothf 


itlbec 
isigi 
iiMajes 
He  was 
ieveryt 
very 
Mmuc 


som 


olten 
rathe 
i&edj 
iandi 
(iiigse 
tourse 


li  last 


ill.  He 


ictive 


Itle  al 


or  his  opinions  of  the  world  with  the  simple 


litOiif 
4  she 
'  am  to 


little  girl  I  was.  But  I  do  remember  that 
he  told  me  one  day  I  might  consider  myself 
fortunate  to  have  been  chosen  by  him. 

After  our  marriage.  King  Farouk  told  me 
that  after  his  divorce  from  his  first  wife,  he  f""-!"" 
had  told  a  few  of  his  intimate  friends  con- 
fidentially that  it  was  now  necessary  for  him 
to  find  another  wife.  If  any  of  them  heard  of  ' 
a  young  Moslem  girl  of  good  family  of  a 
happy  nature,  they  were  to  tell  the  King. 

"I  said  to  my  friends,"  he  told  me  later, 
smiling,  "that  the  young  girl  I  was  looking 
for  need  not  be  an  aristocrat  nor  one  who 
moved  in  Court  circles  or  Egyptian  society, 
for  such  young  girls  do  not  necessarily  make 
the  best  wives.  My  future  wife  should  always 
have  a  quick  and  generous  smile,  for  if  ' 
a  woman  has  within  her  the  gift  of  happiness  '  '''''' i 


icher. 


'  niidii 


I    ^    I)    t    F.  S 


M  I 


I   I)  I  UN 


I  2' 


l.nl^^ll^(•r,  she  will  m;ikc  ;i  hclliT  wile 
I  I  .my  ainounl  of  hliii-  blood  and  arislo- 
>  pride  could  make  her." 
M 1  so  he  Kot  to  know  nie.  As  a  mailer  of 
■ne  of  his  friends,  Achmed  Na^^uib 
I    a  jeweler,  from  the  street  called 
.  I  i-Cahlek  Saroid  in  Cairo,  was  a  man 
.  ,c   business  brought  him  into  contact 
,  I  many  middle-class  families  of  the  city, 
/as  he  who  lirst  drew  the  Kind's  attention 
|ne.  He  knew  my  father  and  had  come  lo 
house  on  various  occasions, 
tut  the  Kinu  said  to  him,  "  I  cannot  ^o  lo 
home  of  this  youn^j  ^^irl,  for  her  fatiier 
s  not  belonK  to  Court  circles.  However, 
photojiraph  shows  a  very  pretty  face  and 
Itould  like  lo  meet  her.  Could  you  arrange 
t?"  And  so  it  was  secretly  decided  thai 
I  father  would  take  me  lo  the  jeweler's  and 
I  lid  let  me  choose  some  valuable  Kift  from 
I  fathcM'.  KiuK  l-'arouk  was  to  be  in  the 
li  pat  the  same  time,  for  he  was  in  tiie  iuibil 
ii;)flen  .noin^;  to  Achmed  NaKuib's,  wiien- 
I  r  there  was  an  opportunity  to  enrich  liie 
al  collections  of  rare  jewels,  precious 
iffboxes  and  old  Ivu\'plian  treasures. 

ims  the  Kinn:  was  to  have  the  opportunity 
observe  me,  to  see  how  I  conducted  my- 
f.  to  hear  my  voice  and  to  decide  whether 
wished  to  meet  me  or  lo  forget  the  whole 
Iter  as  a  neuliuible  incident  in  his  searcii. 
course  I  knew  nothing  of  all  these  arran^e- 
:nls  and  it  was  much  better  so:  I  mij^ht 
ve  become  nervous  and  spoiled  my  chances 
making  a  tjood  impression. 
As  it  happened.  I  was  in  a  gay  and  zeslful 
)od  that  day,  not  only  because  it  was  a 
!asure  for  me  lo  visit  the  shops  with  my 
her  but  also  because  he  wanted  to  buy  me 
;ifl.  Achmed  Naguib  Pasha  displayed  for 
several  trays  of  jeweled  trinkets,  all  the 
lile  making  such  amusing  conversation 
;it  I  never  stopped  laughing.  Then  he  went 
ay  for  a  few  moments  and  returned  telling 
that  there  was  "something  rather  special" 
another  part  of  the  shop.  Then  for  the  first 
ne  I  became  aware  of  the  big,  smiling  man 
inding  near  me,  and  realized  that  it  was 
s  Majesty  the  King  of  Egypt. 
He  was  very  amiable  and  charming  and 
1  everything  in  his  power  to  put  us  at  ease, 
m  very  shy  and  when  I  meet  someone  new 
jse  much  of  my  gaiety  for  a  while.  But  soon 
ound  myself  speaking  to  the  King  as  if  I 
d  known  him  all  my  life.  We  seemed  to 
d  so  many  things  about  which  we  could 
igh  together.  He  has  his  own  way  of 
tening  to  what  you  say  to  him,  as  if  it 
re  prodigiously  witty  or  wise.  In  the  case 
other  men  whom  I  had  known  up  to  then, 
jvas  they  who  had  done  the  talking  while  I 
lened,  but  King  Farouk  encouraged  me  to 
k  and  made  me  feel  that  everything  I  was 
/ing  seemed  to  him  bright  and  intelligent, 
course  at  that  time  I  was  completely  un- 
■are  that  he  might  be  thinking  of  making 
;  his  wife.  Such  a  thought  would  have  gone 
yond  my  fondest  dreams.  But  his  shoul- 
rs  fascinated  me,  and  his  arms  and  his 
werful  wrists  covered  with  dark,  virile 
ir.  He  was  very  massively  built,  with  a 
avy  bone  structure  such  as  many  men  in 
i  Middle  East  have,  a  type  which  is  at- 
ictive  to  all  of  us. 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  Zachi  Hashem, 
10,  compared  with  the  King,  seemed  like  a 
tie  absent-minded,  insignificant  school- 
icher.  Perhaps  every  woman — especially  in 
s  Orient— hopes  for  a  husband  at  whose 
le  she  will  feel  frail,  and  whom  she  has  to 
im  to  manage  by  little  artifices  and  affec- 
inate  wiles  which  every  woman  likes  so 
jch  to  use.  In  the  Islamic  world  our  hus- 
nds  are  so  much  our  lords  and  masters  that 
is  pleasant  when  his  very  physical  ap- 
arance  shows  indisputably  who  is  the 
aster  and  it  is  not  only  his  words  which  re- 
ind  us  of  our  duty. 

After  a  brief  half  hour  of  conversation 
at  seemed  to  pass  in  a  few  moments,  the 
ing  gave  me  his  hand;  my  own  seemed  so 
lall  in  his  grasp  that  it  looked  lost. 
I  went  home  in  a  daze,  and  could  hardly 
;ep  that  night.  I  kept  thinking  how  my 
md  had  lain  for  one  moment,  like  a  small 
lite  mouse,  prisoner  among  his  fingers.  I 
w  myself  again  laughing  with  him.  and  re- 


membered the  smile  he  had  given  me  al  part- 
ing. It  was  hard  for  me  to  persuade  myself 
thai  he  was  actually  the  King. 

For,  although  he  was  the  King,  he  had  be- 
haved more  simply  than  Zachi  Hashem  or 
many  of  the  inlluenlial  friends  of  my  father. 
He  had  placed  a  chair  for  me  and  had  bade 
me  sit  down  before  being  seated  himself.  In 
Egypt  men  alKuind  who  would  never  do  even 
that  for  a  woman. 

Ne.xt  morning  I  went  lo  great  trouble  to 
oblain  every  photograi)h  of  the  Kinn  |  could, 
and  began  to  try  to  paint  his  portrait  in 
water  colors,  even  before  having  breakfast. 

I  knew  it  to  be  an  almost  imjiossible  wish, 
yet  I  hoped  thai  we  would  meet  again. 

AlKHit  two  weeks  after  our  (irsl  meeting  in 
the  shopof  the  jeweler.  King  Farouk  paid  his 
lirst  visit  lo  my  father's  house  in  Heliopolis, 
a  suburb  of  Cairo. 

The  King  had  sent  word  to  my  father  that 
he  would  call  with  two  friends  for  tea  and 
that  he  desired  to  be  received  (|uite  infor- 
mally, .just  the  same,  my  father  was  ex- 
tremely proud  and  excited,  for  although  he 
was  Assistant  Minisler  of  Communications, 
he  had  never  been  received  at  Court,  nor  had 
he  been  presented  to  the  King. 

He  was  convinced  that  the  King's  visit 
was  a  result  of  our  visit  to  the  jewelry  shop 
because  His  Majesty  had  there  met  me.  I 
could  hardly  believe  that  such  a  thing  was 
possible.  Nor  could  I  believe  that  a  half 
hour's  conversation  with  King  Farouk 
should  bring  my  father  the  honor  of  being 
permitted  to  receive  His  Majesty!  I  can  re- 
member distinctly  how  I  went  upstairs  into 
the  quiet  of  my  own  room.  I  had  to  think 
about  this  incredible  new  adventure— that 
the  King  was  coming  to  see  me! 

I  had  attended  the  Princess  Ferial  School 
for  Girls  in  Heliopolis.  All  the  girls  in  my 
class  had  had  photographs  of  K.ing  Farouk 
which  they  had  pinned  inside  the  lids  of  their 
desks  or  even  pasted  inside  their  schoolbooks. 

Some  of  us  even  had  pictures  of  film  stars. 
But  it  is  not  easy  for  a  Mohammedan  school- 
girl to  have  a  crush  on  a  film  star,  for  most  of 
them  are  Christians,  or  at  least  not  Moslems. 
And  we  know  absolutely  that  our  fathers 
would  never  permit  even  the  most  harmless 
flirtation  with  one  of  them  and  would  prob- 
ably forbid  our  writing  a  fan  letter.  There  is 
really  no  point  in  building  up  a  dream  on  a 
film  star.  For  this  reason  most  Moslem  girls 
in  the  same  position  as  I  was  then  choose 
some  popular  Egyptian,  especially  photo- 
graphs of  sportsmen,  swimmers,  runners,  and 
so  forth.  We  had  photographs  of  King 
Farouk  by  the  dozen;  our  favorite  picture 
showed  him  in  his  otificial  military  uniform 
with  many  of  his  decorations  and  the  jeweled 
stars  of  his  orders  from  almost  every  country 
of  the  world.  Another  photograph  showed 
him  with  a  beard  which  we  found  very  ro- 
mantic. 

There  was  another  portrait  of  him  which  I 
liked  very  much.  It  was  the  photo  of  a  paint- 
ing which  showed  him  when  he  was  still 
Crown  Prince,  carrying  a  fencing  mask  and 
rapier.  It  was  a  wonderful  excitement  for  me 
when  I  actually  saw  the  original  painting  for 
the  first  time  in  the  palace  of  Ras-el-Tin  in 
Alexandria.  We  have  it  with  us  still  today, 
one  of  the  few  objects  of  sentimental  value 
we  were  allowed  to  take  with  us  into  exile. 

On  that  afternoon,  while  we  were  excitedly 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  King,  I  had  been 
permitted  to  accompany  my  mother  to  a 
bakery  in  Cairo.  We  selected  cakes  and 
sweets,  fresh  from  the  oven,  which  were  to  be 
sent  lo  us  later.  We  decorated  the  whole 
house  simply  with  plants  and  winter  flowers. 
I  went  through  terrible  moments  of  indeci- 
sion, for  I  did  not  know  what  frock  I  should 
wear  to  receive  the  King. 

The  announcement  of  his  visit  had  been 
made  by  a  private  secretary  of  the  King.  We 
were  not  told  at  what  time  to  expect  him. 
From  about  three  o'clock  on  we  waited  with 
growing  nervous  tension  until  almost  seven 
o'clock.  Then  we  received  another  message: 
His  Majesty  had  been  delayed  by  important 
business  and  we  were  no  longer  to  expect  him ! 

I  went  back  into  my  room— the  same  room 
where  that  very  morning  I  had  known  such 
happy  expectation;  now  I  w^as  in  a  mood  of 


adds  new  beauty 
to  your  home  •  •  • 

new  freedom  to 
your  washday  •  •  • 


AUTOMATIC 


any  day. ..any  hour.. .the  fastest, 
gentlest  drying  known— with  exclusive 

ThermaFlow  Action 


To  the  owner  of  Wonderful  Whirlpool 
comes  lasting  pride  in  its  distinctive 
beauty.  To  her  every  washday  it  brings 
labor-less  laundering  through  features 
perfected  by  Whirlpool  craftsmen.  Ex- 
clusive ThermaFloiv  Action  creates  the 
drying-est  breeze  ever  .  .  .  dries  your 
biggest  wash  faster,  fluffier,  fresher, 
in  effortless  minutes! 

Force-Flo  Venting  whisks  moisture  and 
lint  to  outdoors,  easily,  thoroughly. 

Selective  Temperature  provides  exactly 
the  right  warmth  for  each  fabric!  Safe- 
guards new  miracle  materials. 
•  Also  clothes-protecting  Satin-Smooth 
Drying  Drum  •  Clothes-freshening  Ger- 
micidal Lamp  •  Interior  Light  •  Auto- 
matic Ignition  on  Gas  Dryer. 


In  ThermaFlow  Action, 

incoming  fresh  air  is  econom- 
ically pre-heoted  .  .  .  enters 
heat  chamber  (from  which  tum- 
bling clothes  ore  shielded  by 
protective  wall)  .  .  .  flows  in 
precision  drying  pottern 
ttirough  drum  . . .  and  is  vented 
by  extra-efficient  fon  action. 
'Choice  of  Goi  or  Electric  models. 


WH  I  R  LPOOL  —  AM  E  R  I  C  A'S    FIRST    FAMILY   IN    HOME  LAUNDERING 

WHIRLPOOL  CORPORATION.  St.  Joseph.  Michigan.  In  Canada:  John  Ingtis  Company.  Lid. 


128 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  195 


watch 


the  amazing 


NECCHI 


(say  neck-ee) 

without  attachments 


sew  on  buttons, 


Yes,  watch  the  Necchi — 
and  see  for  yourself  what 
amazing  things  it  can  do. 
Watch  it  stitch  and  finish, 
put  in  a  blind  hem,  sew 
on  hooks  and  eyes,  even  stitch 
through  leather — without  a 
single  attachment!  Watch  how 
the  Necchi  saves  you  hours  of 
tiresome  hand-finishing  .  .  .  how 
it  makes  the  toughest  sewing 
jobs  easy — even  for  a  beginner. 

Be  a  smart  shopper. 

Don't  judge  a  sewing  machine  by 

prepared  samples.  See  it 

in  operation.  And  don't  buy  any 

sewing  machine  until  you've 

seen  what  the  Necchi  can  do  for 

you.  Arrange  for  a  free 

demonstration  today. 


embioider. 


make  bu 


tonholes. 


Look  for  this 
Necchi  Sewing  Circle 
— the  sign  of  over  1800 
authorized  Necchi  dealers. 
For  dealer  nearest  you,  look  in 
your  classified  phone  book. 


monogram  K 


FOR  FREE  ILLUSTRATED  BOOKLET,  write  to  dept.  J342  necchi  sewing  machine  sales  corp. 

164  WEST  25TH  STREET,  NEW  YORK  1,  N.  Y.  .  3780  SOUTH  HILL  STREET,  LOS  ANGELES  7,  CALIF.  .  515  WEST 
WEBSTER  STREET,  CHICAGO  14,  ILL. .  464  McGILL  STREET,  MONTREAL,  P.  Q. 


darkest  despair.  I  was  convinced  the  King 
would  never  come,  that  everything  had  been 
a  terrible  mistake,  and  that  the  second  mes- 
sage was  only  a  tactful  way  of  informing  my 
father  that  someone  had  blundered.  I  believe 
my  father  thought  the  same  thing.  He  went 
about  very  quietly,  lost  in  thought.  At  about 
ten  o'clock,  with  a  heavy  heart,  I  decided  to 
go  to  bed.  My  collection  of  photographs  of 
King  Farouk  and  all  the  pictures  I  had 
clipped  out  of  illustrated  magazines  looked 
at  me  inscrutably.  They  seemed  to  want  to 
tell  me  how  silly  I  had  been  ever  to  have 
thought  the  King  would  give  a  second 
thought  to  our  meeting  in  the  jewelry  shop. 

Then  suddenly  a  long  red  Cadillac  drove 
up  before  the  house  and  stopped  with  a  jolt. 
I  saw  it  from  the  window  of  my  bedroom. 
The  front  doors  of  the  car  were  f^ung  open 
on  both  sides  and  a  chauffeur  and  another 
man  jumped  out  and  opened  the  rear  door 
and  the  King  stepped  out!  Suddenly  I 
was  terrified.  One  second  earlier  I  had  been 
praying  for  just  such  a  miracle  and  had 
tried,  rather  unsuccessfully,  to  hold  back 
my  tears.  And  now 
the  miracle  had  hap- 
pened and  I  could 
almost  have  wished 
the  vision  would 
disappear — so  great 
was  my  timidity. 

But  what  I  saw 
before  the  house  did 
not  disappear.  For- 
tunately I  was  still 
wearing  the  frock  I 
had  chosen  so  care- 
fully. Quickly  I 
combed  my  hair  to 
tidy  it,  and  put  on 
a  tiny  bit  of  the  lip- 
stick which  my 
mother  had  permit- 
ted me  to  use  dur- 
ing my  last  year  at 
school.  When  my 
father  came  up  to 
fetchme  I  wasready. 

King  Farouk  was 
downstairs.  He  wore 
an  ordinary  dark 
evening  suit.  He 
held  in  his  fingers  a 
cigar  which  he  had 
just  stubbed :  a  nerv- 
ous habit  which  I 
was  to  learn  to  know 
so  well  in  the  follow- 
ing months. 

Keliiiit'HMlouid'iy 
aiK'  I'.-'i ;! y'v  when  '  > 
he  rr>i'  i'-'  ;ind  he'H  out  f^haiidv'-I  hope  it 
is  )'!<  II  !'  1 ,  ,  ,  ;  o  ,  , -.-e  c<?ftVparf¥;<Kyt  I  could 
not  yi'i  avv\;y  (i  -t;:  liiy- to^sQrP,«fearlier." 
His  close  fnend,  KariW.'-Satfet  B^'Sha,  was 
witli"  him '.  vie  was  t  Ik*  •Kifi^-fe'Pf ess' Counselor : 
a  - '  :,' \^.itB:gHft44'ii) te^ friendly  eyes. 

l]  > J '^M'^^iMy^^'ve  me  an  en- 

couraxKiK  smile  as  >^  ■  "i  f  led  't^ach  other. 

1  WAS  ViSry  nta'#l-  iurprisedv'  tiiough,  that  I 
was  no  Id'AgC'  riei*Vftias.'  It  wag  as  if  someone 
had  totlcbrid  a  big  vibratihg  gOng  and  it  had 
suddenly  'jeiiome  still.  As  in  that  first  mo- 
ment in' A-tihmed  Naguib  Pasha's  shop,  I 
noticed  that  I  was  quite  calm  and  at  ease  in 
the  King's  company. 

King  Farouk  asked  my  father  if  I  might 
go  out  and  personally  prepare  the  coffee  for 
them.  "  Let  us  see  if  she  can  really  make  good 
coffee,"  he  added,  laughing.  I  wasn't  even  as 
nervous  as  I  had  been  when  my  teacher  called 
on  me  to  read  aloud  before  the  class.  I  did  not 
think  it  was  important  whether  I  made  good 
or  bad  coffee,  the  King  was  sure  to  say  that 
it  was  wonderful.  They  had  to  leave  again 
after  about  twenty  minutes  or  even  less.  I 
knew  there  would  barely  be  time  for  me  to 
make  coffee  and  for  the  King  to  drink  it.  It 
seemed  he  had  interrupted  some  affair  of 
state  and  had  dashed  at  top  speed  across 
Cairo,  so  as  not  to  disappoint  my  father  and 
myself  by  not  calling  upon  us  on  the  day  he 
had  promised  to  do  so. 

The  big  red  Cadillac  whirled  away  again. 
I  watched  it  from  the  window.  In  the  ash 
tray  lay  a  butt  of  a  small  Havana  cigar.  I 


Zachi  Hashem,  former  UN  official, 
whom  Narriman  was  once  rumored  to 
have  rejected  in  favor  of  King  Farouk. 


picked  it  up  and  held  it  between  my  finger 
for  a  moment  wondering  whether  I  shouli 
risk  taking  it  up  to  my  room.  But  I  laid  i 
down  again,  for  I  was  not  sure  whether  m' 
father  would  approve  such  sentimental  bold 
ness.  I  had  put  it  down  only  just  in  time,  fo 
just  then  my  father  came  back  into  the  rooni 
after  having  accompanied  the  King  to  hi 
car  at  the  gate.  And  smilingly,  my  fathe 
said,  "Narriman,  where  is  the  cigar  whicli 
the  King  extinguished?  I  think  I  shall  keeji 
it  as  a  memento ! "  j 

The  King  came  to  my  father's  house  oftel 
in  the  following  weeks— far  more  frequent! 
than  Zachi  Hashem  had  done  previously! 
As  soon  as  Zachi  Hashem  knew  that  th; 
King  was  calling  on  me,  Zachi  no  longer  cam 
to  see  me.  1 
My  grandmother,  a  very  active  and  charmj 
ing  old  lady,  lived  in  our  house  and  Kin| 
Farouk  was  especially  fond  of  her.  He  jest! 
ingly  said,  "In  this  house  everybody  call] 
for  'mother'  whenever  anything  goes  wrong 
Narriman  calls  her  mother,  mother  call 
mother  and  fathe 
calls  mother — th^ 
only  person  in  thif 
house  who  has  n. 
mother  to  call  for  i 
grandmother.  Sosh? 
has  to  do  the  worryi 
ing  for  all  of  you.', 
Each  time  he  cam^ 
we  grew  more  an< 
more  happy  and  a 
ease.  Sometimes  th* 
King  would  simph 
come  to  the  hous  fli 
without  announcin, 
his  visit  beforehan 
leavinghischauffeu 
and  bodyguard  out 
side  with  the  car 
Then  he  would  sii 
in  conversation  witl^ 
my  father;  he  woulc 
light  a  cigar  only  t( 
stub  it  out  soop 
again.  The  hous 
was  resonant  witl 
full,  deep-chestec, 
laughter  wheneve 
the  King  was  there 
We  had  long  ceasec 
collecting  his  cigai 
butts,  for  they  were 
by  now  a  familia 
sight. 

I  knew  the  Kinj 
liked  me  and  be' 
lieved  that  it  wa 
only  a  question  of  time  until  he  would  asl 
my  father  for  my  hand.  Each  day  passed  lik 
a  dream  of  happiness.  Then  suddenly  cami 
the  inevitable  awakening  and  my  first  tasti 
of  the  bitter  fruit  which  can  accompan; 
fame.  Egypt  was  on  the  threshold  of  an  im| 
portant  election  and  the  extreme  left-win 
party  was  trying  in  every  possible  way  ti 
discredit  the  followers  of  the  King.  The; 
seized  upon  King  Farouk's  courtship  of  me 
and  began  to  spread  stories  about  how  I  wai 
secretly  suffering  from  a  broken  heart  be 
cause  I  had  had  to  give  up  that  little  Zachi 
Hashem,  and  that  Zachi  and  I  had  been  ac- 
tually buying  our  engagement  ring  at  the 
jeweler's  when  the  King  had  seen  us,  and 
had  seized  the  ring,  and  thrown  it  down  and' 
said  to  me,  "  I  will  buy  you  a  better  one." 

All  the  newspapers  in  the  world  became, 
excited  by  this  untrue  story  and  Zachi' 
Hashem  immediately  handed  in  a  petition, 
for  an  ambassadorship,  and  it  was  King 
Farouk  himself  who  told  me  this  on  the 
very  day  it  happened.  He  said  to  my  father, 
"I  cannot  grant  him  an  ambassadorship. 
do  not  wish  Egypt  to  be  represented  abroad 
by  the  sort  of  man  who  would  try  to  make 
capital  out  of  a  critical  situation."  For  days^ 
the  King  believed  everything  would  quiet' 
down  again  and  the  truth  be  accepted. 

But  none  of  us,  I  believe,  realized  how 
little  the  Western  world  understands  the 
ways  of  our  Islamic  customs  for  courtship' 
and  marriage.  Nor  were  we  aware  how  un- 
scrupulous the  enemies  of  the  King  had  be- 
come. But  I  had  the  misfortune  of  seeing' 


'  Ilii 
•sii-Fl 


Wo 


I^erfumed  with  a 
nild  fresh  fragrance 

This  is  what  you  votid  for  — 
,  3ani-Fkish  with  a  mild  fragrance 
thai  leaves  bathroom  atmosphere 
refreshed.  And  the  toilet  bowl  spark- 
ling clean.  Sani-Flush  works 
chemically — no  messy  scrubbing. 
Cleans  thoroughly,  even  the  film 
you  can't  see.  At  all  grocers.  The 
Hygienic  Products  Co., 


Canton  2,  Ohio 


for  a 

REALLY  CLEAN  toilet  bowl 


NEW  TOWELS 

LARGE  SIZE  $100 

ASSORTED  COLORS    ■"for  I 

NEW!  Not  Seconds 
MONEY  BACK  GUARANTEE 
Order  NOW— Supply  Limited 
Agents  Wanted  —  Make  Big  Money 

TOWEL  SHOP 
—  Dept.  236-B      Box  881        SI.  Louis,  Mo.  _ 


WASTE  BASKnS2.98 
il.  GARBAGE  TAINER 
cover  S3.79  ^/^ 

Style  and  utility  get  these 
time  beauties,  to  lighten 
ir  work,  glamourize  your 
hen.  Matches  the  popular 
tro-Ware  kitchen  ensemble 

Can't  rust,  chip,  peel,  dent 
;ak  ...  so  easy  to  keep  clean, 
itary!  Mothers  agree  the  dia- 

hamper  is  the  handiest  yet. 
itores  everywhere  along  with 
other  items  for  your  home, 
catalog  write  Columbus 
itic  Products,  Columbus,  Ohio. 


0'-  ^^la^tir 


Mothers  love  this 
step  saving 

DIAPER  HAMPER 

in  nursery  colors 

at  most  stores  ^3.79 

Guaranteed  by  ^ 
^Good  Housekeeping  J 


mPARE  •  You'll  Say  JLobta-MoAM. 


'    \   I'   I    I    -•        II    <i   \i  I 

liow  the  Kind's  love  for  me  hurled  him  mlo 
Kreal  diflicullics.  The  same  wim  true  of  all 
his  loyal  followtTn  who  were  (inlilin«  lo  KJive 
KrvPI  from  tin-  people  who  desired  toehanue 
her  inlo  a  nrpuhlic  and  who,  as  the  Kmn 
once  said  to  me,  "  followed  the  wind  in  every 
direction  like  the  sand  of  the  desert." 

He  once  came  lo  call  and  as  he  was  drink- 
ing his  coffee  he  said,  smiling,  lo  my  father, 
"A  very  ^ood  friend  of  nunc  asked  tne  today 
what  your  daunhler  has  wiiich  makes  me  |)re- 
pared  lo  face  so  many  dilliculiies  for  her.  ! 
told  him  'The  Americans  say  il  more 
neatly  lliey  say  "What  has  she  ^ot  that  the 
ollicrs  li.-ivcn't  jiol  ?"  '  " 

I  biiisiied  and  felt  the  bl(x)d  rushing  to  my 
cheeks.  As  calmly  as  I  could  I  asked,  "What 
did  Your  Majesly  reply?" 

He  lau^;hed  auain,  very  heartily.  "I  said 
to  liim,  '  I  don't  know  bul  she  certainly  has 
something ! ' " 

My  fat  her  agreed  lot  he  decision  that  I  was 
lo  leave  K^iyi)t  for  a  year  lo  com|)lele  my 
education  and  llial  when  I  returned  the  KinK 
would  oflicially  announce  our  betrothal. 

There  were  six  months  before  my  seven- 
leenlh  birlhday,  whicli  is,  for  an  Islamic  Kirl, 
rat  Iter  hile  lor  liie  announcement  of  her  en- 
KaKemenl.  I  think  il  was  one  of  the  most  ex- 
cilin^  moments  in  my  life  when  I  Ixiarded  a 
plane  of  Kin^  Farouk's  own  airsliij)  company 
at  the  airporl  in  Cairo  and  flew  to  Rome  lo 
be^in  my  year  of  study.  Al  the  end  of  this 
year  was  to  be  my  wedding  and  the  bcKinnini; 
of  a  new  life  as  Queen  of  E^ypl,  and  wife  of 
the  man  who  already  was  taking  up  all  my 
IhouKhls.  Laughter  had  become  an  empty 
gesture  for  me  unless  I  could  share  it  with 
him,  and  as  the  i^lane  rose  that  night— it 
took  off  shortly  before  midnight  lo  avoid 
notice— I  fell  deserted  and  alone,  knowing 
that  he  would  not  come  again  tomorrow  or 
the  next  day,  that  I  would  not  hear  his 
laughter  or  just  be  allowed  lo  be  near  him. 

^Iy  favorite  uncle.  Mustapha,  went  with 
me  as  my  chaperon.  I  was  lo  be  the  house 
guest  of  His  Excellency  the  Ambassador  to 
Rome,  and  was  to  slay  at  the  embassy  lo 
study:  French,  English,  poise  and  physical 
c'ullure,  Ihe  theory  of  music  and— perhaps 
the  most  diflicult  of  all  — the  complications  of 
royal  procedure  and  Court  etiquette! 

This  is  by  no  means  so  easy  as  many  at  first 
think.  In  comparison,  the  drill  that  soldiers 
must  learn  is  like  child's  play.  A  king  and 
queen  must  master  the  whole  ceremonial 
drill  of  the  army,  the  navy,  the  police  force 
and  the  exact  etiquette  of  public  banquets 
and  receptions  before  thev  ^ver  ^egin  to 
learn  about  the  difific';"  ■  t...  ..i  .: 
the  second  secretary  >■  ihv:  'eg,~h  ;n  >' 
Embassy  of  Gn'obr.- '.,!•.  i.s .:  ■~-mpi'! .  S.^.a  ■). 
and  the  « •  •  ••■«.'  -ef  r-r  Lfj:  y  :•.  the  .-.r.ura  c' 
Kobaltia     ;  ''  ■  o-^.t-c  so-  ,• ',.0  i:ai'.-."3 

precedenc  .Jl'f  an-ver, 

surprising      i'  ■  ^^d,  is  \.i.,x.  il  o.^- 

pends  on  the  le'\.     ■ '  •  :;t.  :  "t  v.';„  ■  ,  Ac  j'?.. 
ticular  anitw<s?  .'•  •     '     •>    •  ■ 
that  partii  .' -.r  ci ■  ■ 

After  the  sa.  '/  v.  .  sub- 

sided a  Httle,  ;  ^  .  keJ  -.-'A  '^y  first 
sight  of  a  forei.  -i  city  t  tc;  r  hing 
awaiting  me  thue.  I  had  ?ivv..v  .■  i  my 
examinations  withou'  mn:.h  &.  .  ,  es- 
pecially in  French,  Eiii^.L-;'.!,  mus!-  -u  the 
fine  arts.  I  hoped  with  aii  my  heart  to  be 
equally  successful  in  my  studies  in  Rome, 
for  the  sake  of  the  man  who  was  to  marry 
me.  I  was  already  beginning  to  think  of  him 
more  and  more  as  the  man  who  was  to  marry 
me  and  not  as  the  King  of  Egypt. 

I  was  to  stay  at  the  embassy  in  Rome  as 
the  niece  of  the  ambassador.  He  and  his 
wife  were  to  take  care  of  me.  Private  teach- 
ers had  been  found  for  me,  and  my  personal 
lady  in  waiting,  who  was  to  be  the  Countess 
Lily  Martellini.  She  was  supposed  to  be  very 
accomplished  and  charming. 

Even  before  the  big  silver  bird  of  the  royal 
airplane  company  rolled  up  the  landing  strip 
of  the  airport  at  Rome,  in  the  first  light  of 
early  morning,  I  was  more  than  a  little  anx- 
ious about  Countess  Martellini,  who  knew 
so  much  and  from  whom  I  was  to  learn  so 
much.  However,  I  was  to  be  agreeably  sur- 
prised. 

(To  be  Continued) 


I    II    I     l(     \     \  I 


12') 


/fyou 

i^^<7S'h  cZ/sdes. 


cook. 


orcJc/st 
furniture 


...you  need  the  LOTION 

MADE  FOR  BUSY  HANDS! 


Jf  liousfuork  is  part  or  all  of  your 
day,  lietter  he  clioose-y  ahoul  liuinl 
lotion.  'J'lie  "glamour"  kind  is  fun  w  liiif; 
you're  sweet  and  ningle— hut  f;atlicr 
up  a  Ini8l)and  and  a  hoiiseliold  and  see 
■what  Iiappcns!  Then,  your  hands  need 
Italian  IJalm— mar/c  for  busy  hands. 
This,  lotion,  with  medically-proved 


inprcdicniH,  sfxillics  and  soflcn«  roiipli, 
<lia|)|ii'<l  hands  oviTni}:lit  — and  iiM'd 
daily,  hi-i-ps  tln-m  smooth  no  matter 
\\liat!  Like  an  "inviHihIc  {;love,''  it 
holds  in  softness,  keeps  out  dryness. 

Women  \\  ho  AnoK' about  housework, 
insist  on  Italian  IJaiui,  for  no  other 
lotion  i.s  like  it.  lU,  50f,  LOO. 


\ 


Italiarv  Balm 


BY  CAMPANA 


IN  THE  KITCHEN 


...made  from  magic  vinyl! 

You'll  love  Ivalon's 
beautiful  pastel  coloi-s 
. . .  their  soft,  smooth 
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kitchen,  bathroom,  nurser; 
or  for  personal  hygiene 


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PERFECT  FOR  OILY  HAIR !  Used  between  regular 
slianipoos.  Minipoo  restores  limp,  stringj-,  oily 
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130 


L  A   D    I    K    S  '       HOME  JOURNAL 


I 

February,  53 


From  experience  comes  faith 


Hands  tense  .  .  .  alert!  To  retreat,  or  stand  his  ground? 
Wave  after  wave  will  gradually  give  this  tiny  bather  confidence  to 
face  the  threat  of  thundering  surf. 

All  through  life  experience  will  teach  him  how  to  face  the 
troubles  of  our  complex,  modern  world  .  .  .  showing  him  how 
to  stand  firm,  guiding  him  to  men  and  things  of  worth,  teaching 
him  where  to  place  his  faith. 


— '^M 

The  priceless  ingredient  of  every  product 
is  the  honor  and  integrity  of  its  maker. 


Squibb 


In  search  of  the  unknown  . . . 

Research  witli  sucli  powerful 
tools  as  this  electron  micro- 
scope has  been  responsible  for 
an  impressive  list  of  Squibb 
"firsts'.'  in  medicine:  new 
antibiotics,  curare  derivatives, 
nerve  blocking  agents  and 
many  others.  Few  services  to 
man  call  for  greater  experi- 
ence and  trust  than  that  of  the 
pharmaceutical  manufacturer. 


I-    A    l>     I     I.     ^  II     I)     \|     I  I     O     I       It      \     \  I 


ling  llio  availability  of  oxygen  at  an 
it's  notice,  that  distinction  docs  not 

Inhalation  of  various  types  of  ^as,  in 
inction  with  some  of  tiie  other  methods 
iJj  presently  describe,  is  perhaps  tiie 
valuable  of  tiieni  all  today, 
ilher  forms  of  anesthesia  arc  lucal, 
1,  rectal  and  inlravenons;  and  each  of 

has  its  invaluai)le  \)l\cr  in  the  anes- 
;  art. 

ocal  anesthesia  is  carried  out  by  nei  vi' 
:inn  of  local  areas  through  hypodermic 
ion  of  a  dru.n;  in  a  similar  mannei  a 
)St  blocks  oif  the  nerve  before  iiullinu  a 
1.  It  is  the  anesthetic  of  choice  in  minor 
,  such  as  the  excision  of  small  super- 
tumors.  It  can  be  utilized  in  almost  any 
of  oi)eration,  thoui^h  it  slows  down  the 
(live  lime  somewhat.  It  is  of  .i^real  value 
rlain  liandicapped  cases,  where  some  of 
ther  types  of  anesthesia  may  be  contra- 
ated.  I  will  say  that  I  do  not  think  it 
DC  considered  in  your  case. 

INAL  anesthesia  is  carried  out  by  in- 
1^  the  selected  medication  directly  into 
spinal  canal  by  means  of  a  hollow 
le.  It  renders  the  body  absolutely  im- 
lous  to  pain  below  a  certain  point,  and 
point  can  be  calculated." 
t  doesn't  put  the  patient  to  sleep, 
?■' 

t  doesn't  if  the  method  is  adhered  to 
lly.  There  is  complete  loss  of  sensation 
\  a  certain  point— in  fact,  temporary 
lysis." 

rhen  the  patient  would  know  what  was 
;  on?" 

)he  could  know  sometliing  about  it— as 
T  as  she  desired." 
;he  could  talk? " 

;he  could  if  she  desired.  I  don't  think  she 
d  be  likely  lo  do  much  talking." 
don't  want  to  see  my  operation." 
)h,  you  wouldn't.  The  lower  part  of 
■  body  would  be  screened  ofT  from  your 
;.  But  you  wouldn't  Iiave  to  lose  con- 
isness  at  any  time,  which  has  certain  ad- 
ages in  some  cases." 


TKLL  illi:,  IMM  TOIl 

(Continued  from  Fnui-  .11) 

"  I  don't  think  I'd  like  it." 
"It  is  of  ureal  value  in  certain  lyjjes  of 
surgery." 

"Doctor,  what  did  you  mean  when  you 
said,  'If  the  spinal  method  is  adiiered  to 
strictly '? " 

"  I  meant  that  the  most  modern  technique, 
esi)ecially  if  the  operation  were  a  protracted 
one,  would  probably  call  for  fortifying  Ihe 
spinal  injection,  either  by  inhalation  of  one 
of  Ihe  Kases  or  else  by  the  inlrtwi-mms 
method." 

"Will  you  tell  me  about  that?" 

"(lladly.  The  intravenous  method  is  car- 
ried out  by  introducing  a  hollow  needle  into 
one  of  the  veins,  and  injecting  the  solution." 

"And  the  doctor  would  just  stick  me 
once?" 

"That's  all." 

"I  should  think  tiie  effect  of  the  drug 
would  wear  off  after  it  had  been  carried 
around  in  my  blood  stream  for  a  while." 

"That's  an  intelligent  observation.  And 
so  it  would  if  only  the  initial  injection  were 
given.  I  said  the  doctor  would  slick  you  only 
once,  which  is  true.  But  he  wouldn't  with- 
draw the  needle  until  the  operation  was  over, 
so  that  he  could  inject  more  of  the  drug  as 
it  was  needed.  It's  a  spectacular  anesthetic; 
liie  doctor  just  introduces  the  needle  and 
presto!  in  less  than  a  minute  the  patient  is 
asleep  and  snoring.  I'm  pretty  sure  you'd 
like  it." 

"It  sounds  pleasant." 

"  It's  all  right.  Well,  now,  the  last  type  of 
anesthesia  is  the  rectal,  and  in  some  ways  I 
think  that  is  the  easiest  of  all.  The  patient 
is  given  a  small  enema  containing  the  drug. 
Within  a  very  short  time  she  goes  to  sleep  in 
her  own  room,  and  she  wakes  up  in  her  own 
room  with  the  operation  completed.  It  is  as 
though  she  had  simply  taken  a  nap  through 
all  the  unpleasantness.'' 

"That  sounds  awfully  good  to  me,  Doc- 
tor." 

"  I  like  that  form  of  anesthesia  very  much, 
when  it  is  properly  indicated.  As  I  said,  I 
leave  its  selection  to  one  who  is  better  versed 
in  such  matters  than  I.  /  have  enough  to 


MKS.  AiailUR  Sl'AULDmC 


Ballots  were  still  being  counted  in 
a  hot  congressional  race  in  Ventura, 
California,  last  November  when 
Mimi  Spaulding  went  to  a  Republi- 
can Women's  luncheon,  and  heard 
talk  of  the  nexl  election.  "There  was 
a  marvelous  speaker,"  she  says. 
"The  theme  was  that  the  congres- 
sional race  in  two  years  is  going  to 
be  a  crucial  one  for  Eisenhower  and 
how  we  must  all  continue  to  work 
hard. 

"  I  knew  we  ought  to  do  more  than 
just  vote,"  she  says,  "but  until  a 
year  ago  I  just  sat  back  in  an  arm- 
chair built  upon  my  restricted  time, 
with  two  small  children  and  several 
moves  a  year.  Then  I  sought  party 
headquarters.  ...  It  cost  me  $10 
a  month  for  a  baby-sitter  while  I 
stuffed  envelopes.  ...  I  decided  to 
work  in  the  Women  for 
Eisenhower  campaign 
and  ended  up  in  charge 
of  transportation,  and  so 
on,  for  five  precincts." 

As  the  wife  of  a  petro- 
leum   engineer  (Arthur 


Spaulding  is  a  graduate  geologist 
from  California  Tech)  Mrs.  Spaul- 
ding says  the  most  characl  sristic 
thing  about  her  life  is  moving.  But 
she's  used  to  it:  the  daughtv^r  of 
a  naval  officer,  she  attended  "be- 
tween twenty  and  thirty  schools. "  Be- 
cause she  feels  it's  been  an  enrichmg 
experience,  she  isn't  unhappy  about 
the  prospect  of  a  nomadic  life  for  the 
children,  Laurie,  five,  and  Arthur 
Jr.,  four. 

"  I'll  go  on  working,  wherever  I  am, 
and  I  have  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing I  did  as  much  as  I  could,"  she 
says.  "But  I  feel  very  frustrated 
when  it  comes  to  the  actual  workings 
of  the  political  organization.  I  keep 
running  into  a  stone  wall  when  I  try 
to  find  the  over-all  picture,  or  who  is 
actually  in  authority.  Could  it  be 
that  they  (I've  no  idea 
who  'they'  are)  feel  we 
younger  people  would 
t     come  in  and  take  some  of 

*  that  authority?  Has  the 

*  Journal  found  others  like 

*  me  who  feel  baffled?" 


attend  lo  with  my  part  of  the  operation.  I 
don't  want  lo  l)e  bf)lliert'd  with  Huch  de- 
lailH  it  doesn't  make  for  KoofI  nurtjery.  Tin." 
only  al  tent  ion  I  am  likely  lo  pay  lo  thai 
|)arl  of  the  o|KTalion  ih,  |XjHHibly,  lo  ank  once 
in  a  while  of  my  aneHihelist,  '  Ih  ihc  patient 
all  right,  Doctor?"  Kven  llial  ih  entirely  un- 
necessary, for  he  would  warn  ine  at  any 
lime,  if  all  were  not  well." 

"Then  he  would  tx;  watching  me  all  ihe 
time? " 

"Me  would  tie  watching  you  as  a  cat  does 
a  mouse.  Before  I  had  even  starled  my  o|x-r- 
alion,  he  would  have  a  t)l(XKl-|)rcHsure  ap- 
Ijaralus  on  your  arm;  and  lliere  ii  wmild 
slay  not  only  while  you  were  in  lheo|)eraling 
r(K)m,  but  until  you  had  recovered  conscious- 
ness afterward.  Every  five  minutes  he  would 
take  a  reading  of  the  blood  |)ressure,  as  well 
as  the  pulse  and  respiratory  rates,  and  record 
them  ujxjn  a  si)ecial  chart.  He  would  know 
if  all  were  not  well  long  Ix-fore  anything 
wrong  could  attract  my  attention,  I  being 
busied  with  my  own  end  of  the  procedure." 

"That  sounds  like  teamwork." 

"It  is,  and  of  the  best.  Well,  now,  has 
what  I  have  told  you  made  your  ojxTation 
sound  any  less  formidable,  Mrs.  Saffron?" 

"Indeed  it  has.  I  had  no  idea  lo  what 
lengths  doctors  go  to  protect  their  patients." 

"It  is  a  matter  of  routine  in  any  well- 
ordered  operating  room." 

I  THINK  I'll  be  all  right,  particularly  if  I 
could  have  that  rectal  anesthetic.  I  like  the 
idea  of  going  to  sleep  and  waking  up  in  my 
own  room." 

"It  certainly  has  its  points.  I'll  speak  to 
my  anesthetist  about  it,  and  you  shall  have 
rectal  anesthesia  unless  he  finds  some  contra- 
indication to  it." 

"Thank  you  so  much.  Doctor.  Will  this 
rectal  anesthetic  last  long  enough  for  you  to 
complete  my  operation,  or  will  they  give  me 
more  during  it?" 

"  It  wouldn't  be  feasible  to  give  you  more. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  calibrate  the  amount 
you  would  be  absorbing  as  accurately  as 
with  the  intravenous  method.  After  you  are 
once  a&leep,  however,  a  little  inhalation  of 
one  of  the  various  gas  anesthetics  would  be 
sufficient  to  carry  on." 

"One  thing  more,  Doctor.  After  the  opera- 
tion is  over,  how  long  will  it  be  before 
I  wake  up?" 

"That  would  most  likely  depend  upon  the 
length  of  the  operation —how' much  anes- 
thetic you  have  absorbed.  Generally  speak- 
ing, it  would  be  anywhere  from  a  few  min- 
utes to  two  or  three  hours." 

"  I  suppose  someone  will  watch  me  pretty 
closely  all  that  time." 

"There'll  be  a  nurse  with  you  every  min- 
ute." 

"Does  that  mean  that  I'll  have  to  have 
a  private  nurse?" 

"Not  at  all,  although  it's  a  very  good 
idea,  if  you  can  arrange  it.  Those  who  have 
private  nurses  are  returned  in  their  care  to 
their  own  rooms  immediately  after  the  oper- 
ation. For  those  who  do  not.  there  is  a  large 
recovery  room  to  accommodate  perhaps  a 
dozen  patients.  Four  or  more  nurses  take 
charge  of  these  patients  until  they  are  out  of 
anesthesia,  when  they  are  moved  back  to 
their  own  rooms." 

"And  four  nurses  are  enough  to  care  for 
them  all?" 

"In  most  cases  four  have  been  entirely 
adequate.  You  see,  the  dozen  patients  are 
not  brought  to  the  recovery  room  all  at  one 
time,  but  successively  in  accordance  with  the 
operative  schedule.  They  are  in  different 
degrees  of  recovery  and  do  not  all  demand  the 
same  amount  of  care  at  the  same  time.  Just 
the  same,  they  are  each  being  watched  every 
minute.  It  really  iS  a  very  excellent  arrange- 
ment." 

"I  can  see  that.  Well,  Doctor.  I'll  be 
ready  when  you  are." 

"We  shall  have  to  consult  the  operating- 
room  schedule  to  determine  that." 


Need  a  Vacation? 


ABOUT  SPRING  TRIPS  THAT 
ARE  SURE  TO  BE  FUN! 

Valley  o'  tin;  Sun  .  .  .  (i  glorious,  sun- 
druiirlicij  (Jays  and  7  enfrhanting  nights  at 
famous  Jokake  Inn,  on  (]ani(ill>a<;k  .Moun- 
tain near  Phoenix!  Could  anything  Le  more 
gitimorous,  more  thrilling';'  Bcnl  of  all, 
these  8  days  including  your  TWA  Sky 
Tourist  flight  from  New  York  to  Phoenix 
and  return  cost  as  little  as  S317*  (from 
Chicago  $'2br>.*) 


the 


Luxury  at  no  extra  cost  .  .  .  Enjoy  tne 
world's  most  luxurious  air  service  via 
TWA's  Amhassadors.  One  of  these  new 
giant  Super  Constellations  leaves  NewYork 
nightly  at  12:.'30  A.M.  and  arrives  in  Los 
Angeles  at  8:1.5  A.M.  En  route  you  rest  in 
decp-reclining  seats  or  full  length  double 
berths  (surcharge  for  sleeper  berths)  .  .  . 
relax  in  the  friendly  lounge  ...  or  enjoy  a 
midnight  buffet  supper,  k 

Do  consider  TWA's  cosiiiopoiilan  titiir! 

15  days  is  all  you  need  to  really  see  both 
England  and  France.  So  even  if  you  have 
only  two  weeks,  you  can  include  both 
England  and  France,  thanks  to  TW.\'s 
wonderful  tour  that  covers  both  countries, 
flies  you  from  New  York  and  back  to  .New 
York  for  as  little  as  S587  if  you  complete 
your  trip  before  April  1,  slightly  higherlater. 

There's  a  TWA  bargain  for  you  wher- 
ever, whenever  you  go.  Ask  Mary  (Jordon, 
your  favorite  travel  agent,  or  local  TW.A 
office  about  TW.A  Family  Half  Fares,  Sky 
Tourist  Rates  and  Circle  Tours.  If  you 
have  special  travel  problems,  write  Mary 
Gordon  of  TWA.  She  has  the  answers,  or 
for  additional  travel  information  send  for 
her  helpful  leaflets  . . .  just  fill  out  and  mail 
the  coupon  below. 

*plus  tax  on  air  portion 


Next  month.  Doctor  Safford  discusses  reasons  for  pain- 
ful menstruation  and  its  relief. 


Mary  Gordon,  Dept.  J2 

Trans  World  Airlines,  60  E.  42nd  St.,  New  York,  N.Y. 
Please  send  me  your  free  leaflets . . . 

□  Basic  Travel  \\  ardrobes 

□  How  to  See  the  W  est 
O  How  to  See  Xc^i  York 

□  How  to  Stretch  ^  our  Travel  Dollar 

□  Skyliner  Tours  of  Europe 

Name  

A  DDRESS  

City  

St  A  TE  


L    A    IJ     I     K     ^  II     U     M     K        JO    II     K     ^    A  L 


February,  Ji 


Her  Style<s^pistinctive 

She  uses  Eaton's  Open  Stock 
RANDOMWEAVE 

. .  .  she  has  a  great  flair  for  choosing  fashions  that  are 
personality-perfect  for  her.  Her  favorite  letter  paper  is 
from  Eaton's  Open  Stock  and  she  uses  it  always.  Matching 
letter  paper  and  envelopes  are  always  available  and  are 
packaged  separately.  She  replenishes  paper  or  envelopes 

as  needed  ...  a  real  economy,  since  there  is  no  waste. 
Eaton's  Randomweave  has  a  fascinating  fabricked 

surface  that  is  wonderful  to  write  on.  Deckled  edges 
and  luxurious  envelope  inter- linings  are  in  classic  taste. 

White,  Blue,  Grey,  Tan.  At  fine  stores,  everywhere. 

We  do  not  sell  direct 

Deckled  single  sheets,  80  to  the  box,  95c 
Deckled  and  lined  envelopes,  25  to  the  package,  50c 

N'S    FINE    LETTER    PAPERS    IN    OPEN  STOCK 


EATON   PAPER  CORPORATION 


'ITTSFIELD,  MASSACHUSETTS 


CAPTIVATING 


thrillinc!  moments 
as  you  step  into  spring. 


I.O\  E  STORY 

(Continued  from  Page  45) 


most  Styles  1295  to  1595 

IE    FOOTWEAR    CORPORATION    •    JEFFERSON    CITY    •  MISSOURI 


age  to  be  always  and  forever  reading  love 
stories.  The  thing  was,  it  had  been  so  long 
since  anyone  had  paid  any  attention  to  what 
she  read — or  to  anything  else  she  did— that 
she  had  come  to  feel,  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses, invisible. 

"And  who  said  love  stories  were  trash?" 
demanded  the  new  cashier,  with  a  twinkle 
in  his  eye. 

In  a  sudden  burst  of  confidence,  Miss 
Schultze  found  herself  telling  him  how  funny 
it  was  that  it  always  seemed  so  simple,  writ- 
ten down,  for  the  boy  to  meet  the  girl.  "Just 
some  easy  little  thing,"  she  said  earnestly. 
"Something  that  throws  them  together. 
That's  all  it  takes  " 

"That's  right,"  agreed  the  new  cashier, 
and  he  went  on  down  to  his  cash  register  at 
the  far  end  of  the  line,  for  the  little  lull  was 
over. 

There  wouldn't  have  been  any  more  to 
tell  if  Miss  Schtiltze  had  not,  that  same 
week,  been  moved  down  to  Coffee  and  Tea, 
which  is  right  behind  the  cashier's  desk.  And 
because  he  was  interested  and  sympathetic, 
and  because  she  was  so 
completely  furious  with 
the  boy  and  the  girl  who 
wandered  in  and  out  as 
lonely  as  two  separate 
clouds,  she  pointed  them 
out  to  him. 

"Of  course,"  she  said, 
"it's  too  late  now.  This 
has  been  going  on  for 
over  six  months,  this  busi- 
ness of  coming  in  here 
and  ignoring  each  other. 
And  always  alone,  the  both 
of  them !  The  pattern,  you 
might  say,  is  set,  and  this 
is  the  way  it'll  go  on,  right 
to  the  end." 

"I  disagree  with  you. 
Miss  Schultze,"  said  the 
new  cashier,  who  was  very 
gentlemanly    and  never 
called  her  Schultzey  the 
way  everybody  else  did.  "The  way  to  feel  is, 
it's  never  too  late."  He  rubbed  his  nose 
thoughtfully.  "If  concentrating  on  them,  as 
you  say,  has  done  no  good  "  Hehesitated. 

"No  good  at  all!"  said  Miss  Schultze 
crisply. 

"  then  we'll  have  to  think  up  some- 
thing else,"  said  the  new  cashier.  "What  we 
have  to  remember  is,  it's  never  too  late." 

After  that,  nothing  happened.  After  that, 
as  far  as  she  could  discover,  he  had  simply 
forgotten  all  about  the  entire  matter,  and 
she  could  not  in  all  fairness  blame  him,  be- 
cause it  appeared  that  he  had  taken  the 
cashier  job  in  order  to  get  an  accurate  check 
on  how  much  business  the  cafeteria  did. 
Now,  the  rumor  was,  he  was  going  to  buy 
the  place. 

naturally  he  would  forget  all  about  the 
tall  lonely  boy,  and  the  little  lonely  girl,  and 
in  fact  Miss  Schultze  could  feel  her  face  get 
hot  whenever  she  thought  about  having  said 
what  she  did  about  them.  To  the  new  boss! 
Probably  lucky  for  her  if  he  did  forget ! 

But  he  still  occupied  the  cashier's  desk. 
And  two  weeks,  two  weeks  to  the  day,  after 
she  had  pointed  the  young  things  out  to 
him,  he  swiveled  his  chair  around  and  faced 
her.  "Watch  this!"  he  said,  in  a  conspira- 
torial undertone.  He  winked  at  her,  and 
swiveled  back.  Winked  at  her!  There  was 
something  so  intimate,  so  audacious  in  that 
wink  that  little  Miss  Schultze,  flushed  and 
flustered,  did  not  at  first  see  what  it  was  that 
she  had  been  told  to  watch.  Then  she  saw: 
they  were  coming  down  the  line  together, 
the  boy  and  the  girl. 

The  girl  was  first.  "Tea,  please,"  she 
murmured  to  Miss  Schultze,  and  went  on 
to  the  check-out  desk.  "Coffee,  I  guess," 
said  the  boy. 

Then  it  happened.  As  she  handed  his  cup 
of  coffee  to  the  boy,  the  girl  could  be  heard 


J^l^  .^^k 

WITH  THE  CHILDREN 

From  our  oldest:  "One  of 
the  things  I'll  never  forget, 
if  I  live  to  be  an  old,  old 
man,  is  the  cold,  windy 
days  when  we  get  in  after 
school  and  the  cocoa  is  all 
mode  and  the  table  is  set 
for  a  warming  party.  The 
cups  warm  our  hands,  the 
cocoa  worms  our  stomachs 
and  it  makes  a  warm  feel- 
ing all  over." 

KATHRYN 
COFFEY  GLENNON 


protesting  to  the  cashier.  "Oh,  no,"  shev 
saying  breathlessly.  "That's  wrong.  I  j 
paying  for  my  own,  thank  you!  I  me; 
I'm — I'm  not  with  that  young  man. 
doesn't  pay  for  my  lunch.  You've  made 

mistake  " 

"What's  the  trouble?"  the  boy  aski 
going  up. 

The  new  cashier  looked  grave  and  «» 
cerned.  He  looked.  Miss  Schultze  thou^ 
delightedly,  like  a  deacon  who  has  just  d 
served  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  church  he 
ing  himself  to  change  from  the  collecti 
plate.  Miss  Schultze  couldn't  blame  the  t 
young  ones  for  being  taken  in— she  woil 
have  been  taken  in  herself.  , 
"I  understood  you  to  signal  me,  sir,"  t 
cashier  said.  "I  understood  you  to  india 
to  me  that  you  were  paying  for  this  you 
lady's  tray  along  with  your  own."  Thi 
stood  there,  looking  at  him  and  at  eachoth  j 
He  was  very  patient  with  them.  "Y 
nodded,  sir,"  he  insisted,  all  gentle  reproac 
"the  way  a  young  lady's  escort  nods  toini 

cate  that  he  is  picking  up  both  tabs  "  1 

The  girl  laughed,  , 
uncertain,  shaky  liti 
laugh.  "This  is  the  mc, 
ridiculous  thing,"  s 
said  protestingly.  "Ai; 
we're  holding  up  the enti  i 
line." 

"If  it's  my  mistake 
said  the  cashier,  "I 'ma 
tainly  very  sorry  — 
But  he  made  no  move 
take  the  money  the  g 
held  out  to  him. 

"You  might  go  i 
ahead,  if  you  will,  andfii 
us  a  table,"  suggested t 
young  man,  taking  out  1 
wallet.  "I'll  follow  you 
He  was  such  a  soler 
young  man.  He  looked 
the  girl  solemnly,  but 
the  same  time  hopeful! 
"  That  is, "  he  said,  hopefi 
ness  in  his  voice,  too,  "if  you  don't  object! 

The  girl  was  pink  as  a  peony,  but  s 
was  smiling,  and  her  eyes  shone.  "I  dot 
object  at  all,"  she  told  the  boy.  "  I  real 
think  it  is  a  wonderful  idea!"  She  start 
off,  went  a  few  steps,  and  turned,  as 
to  be  sure  that  the  boy  had  the  plot  ; 
straight  in  his  mind.  "You  just  follow  me 
she  said. 

The  new  cashier  did  not  look  back  to  s 
how  Miss  Schultze  was  taking  the  success 
his  ruse.  Even  when  the  two  youngsters  hi 
hurried  out,  after  an  interminable  lunc 
still  talking  blue  streaks  at  each  other,  I 
did  not  look  back.  He  attended  strictly 
his  own  business.  But  when  at  last  the  ru! 
was  over,  he  signaled  Jim  to  take  his  pla 
at  the  check-out  desk,  and  he  himself  can 
swaggering  over  to  where  Miss  Schultze  w; 
taking  off  her  apron. 

"Two  coffees,  before  you  quit,"  he  oj 
dered.  "And  how's  for  having  one  of  thei 
with  me?  There's  a  table  over  there  by  tl' 
window  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  and  shook  her  hea 
admiringly.  "My,  you  handled  that  woi 
derfully  !'■  she  said.  And,  because  it  was  tl 
least  she  could  do,  she  started  obediently  t 
set  up  two  coffees.  What  we  have  to  remen 
ber,  he  had  said,  is  that  it's  never  to 
late.  .  .  . 

"Now,  isn't  that  funny,"  Miss  Schult2 
commented  to  the  new  cashier,  as  the 
walked  together  to  the  table  by  the  windov 
"I  never  heard  music  in  here  before." 

"Nor  I,"  said  the  new  cashier.  "At  leas' 
not  that  I  recall.  But  it  sounds  fine.  I  go  fc 
that  dreamy  kind  of  music  myself." 

And,  all  the  way  over  to  that  table,  Mis 
Schultze's  feet  never  once  appeared  to  touc 
the  floor.  She  was  walking  buoyantly,  as : 
on  air.  She  looked  very  cautiously  out  of  th 
sides  of  her  eyes  at  the  new  cashier,  just  t 
see,  and  yes!  he  was  walking  in  the  sam 
identical  way.  the  en 


I.   \   I)   I  i: 


'        II     <•     \|     I         I     O  I 


II    N    \  I 


Get  in  tune  with  the  times  .  .  . 
look  for  the  "Sanforized"  label 
before  you  buy. 


No  matter  how  much  or  how  little 

you  pay  .  .  .  the  way  to  be  sure 

your  cottons  won't  shrink  out  of 

fit,  out  of  fashion,  is  to  know 

for  certain  they're  "Sanforized"-labeled. 


So  insist  on  seeing  the  all-important 
"Sanforized"  trade-mark — make  even  your 
favorite  salesgirl  show  it  to  you. 


'SANFORIZED 


TRADE      ®  MARK 


Cluett,  Peabody  &  Co.,  Inc.  permits  use  of  its  trade-mark  "Sanforized,"  adopted  in  1930, 
only  on  fabrics  which  meet  this  company's  rigid  shrinkage  requirements.  Fabrics  bearing 
the  trade-mark  "Sanforized"  will  not  shrink  more  than  1?;  by  the  Government's  standard 
10  East  40th  Street,  New  York  16,  N.  Y.    •   MUrray  Hill  5-5270 


134 


LADIES'       H    O    iVI    E  JOURNAL 


February;  19S3 


CAN  THIS  MARRIAGE  HE  SAVEH? 

(Continued  from  Page  49) 


soap  pads- 

fn  half  thQ  me  / 

Whisk  off  baked-on  crust  and 
scorch  in  a  jiffy  with  a  square  metal- 
fiber  BrilloS  pad-with-soap!  Then 
see  your  aluminums  gleam! 

Now — no  more  scrubbing!  No 
more  scraping!  Brillo  gets  you  out 
of  the  kitchen  fast,  because  Brillo 
scours  .  .  .  cleans  .  .  .  shines  pans 
all  at  once! 

Scientific  shine-meter  tests  prove 
Brillo  outshines  all  other  cleansers 
tested.  Let  Brillo  care  for  all  your 
aluminums.  Fine  for  faucets,  ovens, 
stove  burners,  too! 

BRILLO  SOAP  PADS  (Red  box)  soap-filled  pads 
BRILLO  CLEANSER  (Green  box j  pads  plus  cake  soap 

BRIUO  -your  besf  bu/ 1 

MORE  METAL  E/BER  /A/  BR./LLO  / 
MORE  POl/£Hm  SOAP  /A/  BRILLO  f 
MORE  PADS  TO  THE  BR/LLO  BOX/ 
NEW/MPROI/ED  BR/LLO  LASTS  LONGER  / 


Thriftierl 
5  and  12  , 
pad  boxes! 


nobody's  choice  at  all.  That  hurt.  I'd  have 
given  back  Ralph's  ring  except  for  papa  say- 
ing It  was  all  a  pack  of  nonsense.  Papa  al- 
wa\-s  took  my  side.  He  borrowed  some  money 
and  gave  us  a  huge  wedding,  and  made 
mamma  order  my  dress  from  New  York,  and 
I  thought  things  were  right. 

"But  things  weren't  right.  Ralph  invited 
Sally  to  our  engagement  party  and  our  wed- 
ding. And  then,"  said  Alice,  the  mother  of 
four,  "something  happened  I  can  never  for- 
get or  forgive.  During  our  first  married  year 
together,  when  I  was  carrying  Bobby,  our 
oldest  boy,  Sally  invited  us  to  ]m  wedding. 
Ralph  insisted  we  go,  even  though  I  knew 
Sally  wanted  to  flaunt  herself  in  front  of  me. 
So  how  did  my  husband  behave?  He  kept  his 
eyes  on  Sally  straight  through  the  wedding 
and  laughed  and  talked  with  her  at  the  recep- 
tion and  congratulated  her  new  husband 
three  different  times,  completely  ignoring  me. 
He  was  ashamed  of  me,  as  he's  always  been. 

"  Ralph  claims  he  loves  his  children,"  cried 
Alice,  reverting  from  an  unforgotten  humilia- 
tion fourteen  years  in  the  past  to  the  wretched- 
ness of  the  present,  "but  he  doesn't.  Any 
more  than  he  loves  me.  Maybe  it's  because 
I'm  the  mother.  He  never  kisses  or  hugs  the 
children  or  acts  like  other  fathers.  Our 
Bobby  carries  a  paper  route,  and  last  month 
Ralph  took  all  the  boy's  money  without  even 
leaving  him  a  dollar  to  buy  a  football  for  him- 
self. On  Father's  Day  I  cooked  a  wonderful 
meal  and  the  children  fi.xed  the  table,  but  he 
wasn't  there  and  they  were  brokenhearted. 
A  thousand  times  my  husband  has  said  to 
me,  'I  might  be  somewhere  today  if  it 
weren't  for  having  four  kids!' 

"What  am  I  supposed  to  do?"  demanded 
the  unhappy  woman.  "Strangle  my  chil- 
dren? They're  his  children  too.  He  was  there 
when  they  were  conceived.  Please,  please  talk 
to  Ralph,"  Alice  besought  the  counselor. 
"Tell  him  I'll  do  anything  he  wants  done. 
He's  always  saying  he's  worried  over 
money — but  that  isn't  our  trouble.  What's 
money  when  there  isn't  love  in  a  home,  when 
there's  no  husband  and  no  father?  What's 
money  when  a  man  runs  around  at  night  and 
prefers  any  other  woman  to  his  wife?  Tell 
Ralph  I'll  go  out  and  scrub  and  work  my 
fingers  to  the  bone,  if  he'll  only  stay  with  us 
and  be  good  to  the  children,  and  talk  to  me 
sometimes  and  respond  to  my  love." 

Ralph  tells  his  side 

"My  wife  is  driving  me  crazy,"  said  Ralph 
to  the  counselor  with  whom  Alice  had  pre- 
viously spoken.  A  tall,  thin  man  of  thirty- 
eight  with  a  lined  drawn  face  and  a  nervous 
tic,  he  was  not  entirely  the  charmer  of 
Alice's  description.  "I'm  desperate  or  I 
wouldn't  be  here  talking  to  you,"  said  Ralph. 
"Between  my  wife  and  my  debts  I've  been 
pushed  to  the  limit,  and  that's  for  sure.  At 
thirty-eight  I've  learned  my  limitations,  if 
nothing  else.  I'm  no  good,"  said  Ralph. 
"Other  men  can  support  their  families,  but 
not  me— I've  always  been  buried  in  bills.  One 
kid  after  another,  and  before  you  pay  for 
Bobby  and  Jean  along  come  Peter  and  Ann. 
Last  month  I  had  to  take  Bobby's  money  to 
settle  part  of  our  overdue  rent  to  keep  us 
from  being  evicted,  and  the  kid  was  upset 
and  Alice  said  I  didn't  love  Bobby  or  her 
either.  How  does  that  make  a  man  feel? 

"How  do  I  know  who  I  love,  when  I'm 
crazy  with  worry  over  failing  in  my  responsi- 
bilities? While  I'm  trying  to  figure  some 
way  to  keep  a  roof  over  our  heads,  Alice  is 
asking  do  I  love  her,  and  why  don't  I  kiss 
the  kids,  and  where  have  I  been  when  I've 
been  out  trying  to  scratch  up  an  extra 
dollar — and  this  and  that  and  the  other. 

"Sometimes  I  think  she  torments  me  on 
purpose,"  Ralph  said  bitterly,  "just  to  show 
she  thinks  I'm  a  rotten  provider.  I've  begged 
and  begged  her  to  write  down  what  she 
spends,  but  she  won't.  I  find  her  slips  of 
paper  filed  in  the  wastebasket,  or  not  filled 
out  at  all.  She  feeds  me  steak  when  we  ought 
to  be  eating  beans.  She  throws  a  Father's 
Day  celebration  on  the  day  the  landlord 


threatens  to  throw  us  out.  She  sends  the  kids 
to  the  grocery  on  a  bus  when  it's  just  three 
blocks  and  they  ought  to  walk,  and  she 
ought  to  be  studying  the  week-end  specials 
and  buying  in  the  supermarket.  How  are  we 
ever  to  keep  a  budget  or  know  where  we 
stand,  when  my  wife  refuses  to  co-operate? 
Last  month  I  lost  out  on  an  assignment  I'd 
been  expecting  since  June,  and  Alice  thought 
she  could  cheer  me  up  by  hiding  the  gas  and 
electric  bills  and  telling  me  it  didn't  matter. 

"Yes,"  said  the  distracted  man  in  reply  to 
a  question,  "  I  suppose  if  I  took  a  regular  ac- 
countant's job  I  might  earn  more  than  the 
two,  three  hundred  a  month  I  average  now. 
But  if  I  did  that  I'd  be  tied  to  a  desk  eight 
hours  a  day  the  way  I'm  tied  to  Alice  and 
my  debts.  I've  got  to  have  some  kind  of 
freedom  to  feel  like  a  man  at  all. 

"I've  got  no  freedom  or  peace  at  home. 
Our  apartment  is  always  in  uproar,  filled 
with  talk  and  unpaid  bills  for  something  my 
wife  has  forgotten  to  tell  me  about.  And 
Alice  is  clinging  to  me  like  a  leech,  wanting 
to  know  how  do  I  feel  about  a  girl  married  to 
somebody  else  that  I  haven't  seen  for  four- 
teen years.  How  the  hell  do  I  know?  I  can 
hardly  remember  Sally.  If  Alice  loves  me  so 


OOOOOOOO0OOOO 

Ihe  Cliild  Kneeling 

Itu  Viri/inia  Estt'riii  Itiinhiir 

Grace  has  entered 
This  darkened  room. 
The  heart  is  centered 
Peace  comes  down. 

The  child  kneeling 
Small  and  grave 
Has  words  for  telling 
The  place  of  love. 
The  heart  of  dream. 

Light  has  gone. 
But  the  slight  voice 
Is  sweet  with  prayer — 
God,  heed  her  there 
In  a  white  gown 
In  a  dark  place. 

000O0©0e©e©oo 


much,  why  can't  she  learn  to  add  and  sub- 
tract? It's  got  so  I  can't  bear  to  talk  to  her  or 
even  look  at  her— as  if  my  tongue  and  eyes 
were  paralyzed. 

"Last  night,"  said  Ralph,  "I  dreamed  I 
was  trying  to  climb  a  slipping  avalanche  with 
a  huge  stack  of  bills  on  my  back  and  then 
the  avalanche  fell  in  and  I  was  dead,  and 
happy  and  quiet  and  peaceful  at  last.  I  woke 
up  dripping  with  cold  sweat  and  shaking  till 
the  bedsprings  creaked.  I  can't  afford  to  go  to 
a  doctor,  but  frankly  I  think  I'm  on  the 
edge  of  a  mental  crack-up.  Then  what  will 
become  of  Alice  and  the  kids?  Let  me  tell 
you  what  happened  last  Tuesday. 

"To  get  away  from  Alice's  incessant  chat- 
ter— she's  as  full  of  prying  questions  as  a 
bill  collector— I  went  out  and  walked  the 
streets.  I  ran  into  a  secretary  at  a  place  I've 
worked — Alice  would  be  certain  we  had  a 
date — and  Elaine  suggested  her  boss  might 
have  an  extra  assignment  for  me.  Well,  he 
lives  out  of  town  and  I  took  the  train  and  saw 
him,  but  the  tip  turned  out  to  be  wrong.  I 
didn't  get  the  job  and  I  missed  the  last  train 
back  and  had  to  take  a  bus.  When  I  got  home 
at  six  in  the  morning,  dead-beat  and  dis- 
couraged, Alice  screamed  at  me  for  hours 
trying  to  find  out  what  I'd  been  doing.  If  I'd 
tried  to  explain  she'd  have  offered  to  go  out 
scrubbing,  which  she  doesn't  mean,  and  can't 
do  anyway  with  the  kids  to  look  after. 


"Well,  I  finally  got  to  bed,"  said  Ralph, 
"but  that  isn't  the  pay-off.  When  I  woke  up 
it  seemed  like  I  was  at  the  end  of  my  string. 
So  I  did  a  crazy  thing.  I  went  to  a  downtown 
shipping  office  and  tried  to  ship  on  a  boat 
leaving  for  South  America.  If  they'd  signed 
me  on,  I'd  have  been  on  the  water  now  and 
ready  to  jump  overboard.  I  could  never  have 
supported  my  family  in  Buenos  Aires,  but  on 
Wednesday  I  actually  convinced  myself  I 
could.  Does  that  mean  I'm  going  crazy? 

"I've  got  to  get  away  from  Alice,"  said 
the  husband  and  father,  "if  I'm  ever  to  earn 
a  living  for  her  and  the  kids.  I  haven't  the 
strength  to  carry  the  double  burden  of  my 
wife  forever  hounding  me  with  her  kind  of 
love  and  her  jealousy  while  we  slip  farther 
and  farther  into  debt.  If  you  can  straighten 
things  out,"  said  Ralph  to  the  counselor,  "so 
Alice  and  I  can  live  together  with  our  kids 
like  Christians,  I'll  say  you  marriage  coun- 
selors are  miracle  workers!" 

The  counselor  says 

"Marriage  counseling  isn't  a  matter  of 
miracles,"  said  the  counselor  in  discussing 
the  case.  "Alice  and  Ralph's  primary  trouble 
was  easier  to  diagnose  than  to  cure.  Each  was 
deeply,  basically  insecure— a  poor  founda- 
tion for  building  a  good  niarriage.  Each  was 
obliged  to  adapt  and  adjust  and  change  per- 
sonality. Before  these  two  could  ofter  each 
other  the  encouragement  and  attention  so 
desperately  needed  by  both,  each  had  to  ac- 
quire self-confidence,  self-esteem  and  self- 
respect.  Only  by  understanding  themselves 
and  the  true  motivation  of  their  own  be- 
havior could  they  alter  the  behavior  and  gain 
the  ability  to  understand  and  help  each 
other.  The  counseling  process  took  two  years, 
but  the  reward  was  great.  They  not  only 
saved  their  marriage,  but  saved  themselves 
from  lives  of  misery. 

"Alice's  insecurity  was  expressed  in  child- 
ish, baseless  jealousy.  Her  mother,  a  vain, 
silly  woman,  had  rejected  her,  and  her  loving 
father,  in  dramatically  taking  her  side,  had 
aided  in  the  personality  damage.  In  her  girl- 
hood Alice  had  established  a  habit  pattern  of 
gaining  attention  and  love  by  the  scenes  and 
hysterics  so  distressing  to  Ralph.  Subcon- 
sciously she  was  demanding  from  her  hus- 
band the  response  she'd  got  from  her  father. 
Only  after  she  perceived  this  truth  was  she 
able  to  break  the  old,  destructive  pattern  and 
show  real  love  for  Ralph. 

"In  cooking  him  expensive  steaks  and 
smothering  him  with  excessive  protestations 
of  love,  she  was  offering  him  not  the  kind  of 
attention  he  wanted  and  needed  but  the  kind 
she  wanted  herself.  Ralph  needed  calm  and  a 
financial  accounting  from  her — money  was 
important  to  him !  An  uncommunicative,  ret- 
icent man,  Ralph's  way  of  pronouncing  his 
love  was  not  in  extravagant  speech  but  in 
coming  home  to  her  and  the  children,  and 
displaying  his  willingness — indeed,  his  de- 
termination— to  support  them.  When  Alice 
recognized  this  fact  and  acknowledged  that 
the  language  of  courtship  and  juvenile 
dreams  is  seldom  the  language  of  marriage, 
she  started  keeping  household  accounts  and 
padlocking  her  tongue.  Soon  Ralph  re- 
sponded to  the  kind  of  love  his  nature  re- 
quired with  the  love  for  which  she  was  starv- 
ing. Their  sexual  relations,  long  abandoned, 
were  resumed.  After  that,  Alice's  jealousy 
slowly  disappeared  and  today  she  can  see 
her  husband  talking  to  another  woman  with- 
out foolishly  imagining  he  is  drawing  invid- 
ious comparisons.  For  Alice  these  changes 
were  radical  and  painful,  but  in  changing  she 
drew  her  husband  closer  to  her — the  result 
she  desired. 

"Ralph  changed  too.  He  came  to  under- 
stand he  must  talk  a  certain  amount,  that 
Alice  was  entitled  to  explanations  of  his  ab- 
sences, phone  calls  if  he  were  delayed.  He 
also  realized  she  and  the  children  were  en- 
titled to  a  normal  show  of  affection,  despite 
his  belief  it  was  unnecessary,  and  quite  de- 
liberately he  set  himself  to  the  task  of  hand- 
(Continucd  on  Page  136) 


I.    A    l>     I     l:     S  •        II     I  I     M     I  I'll      II     N     \  I 


KEYSTONE  READERS' 
SERVICE,  INC. 

Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 

Regional  Offices  in  58  Principal  Cities 


This  insignia 
with  a 
Credentials  Card 
identifies 
the  Keystone 
Representative. 


Went,  a  Friend" 

This  splendid  tribute  was  said  of  a  Keystone 
Readers'  Service  representative.  The  speaker  was 
tlie  head  of  a  household;  his  wife  too,  was 
enthusiastic. 

Together  they  had  listened  to  the  Keystone 
man's  presentation  of  the  magazine  story.  Being 
only  occasional  magazine  readers,  of  copies  casu- 
ally purchased,  they  had  not  realized  what  they 
were  missing  by  not  having  magazines  regular 
visitors  in  their  home.  This  stranger  had  brought 
them  a  new  vision.  He  had  proved  worthy  of  their 
friendship. 

Keystone  Readers'  Serv-ice  is  a  nation-v.  ide 
organization.  More  than  fifty  regional  offices, 
five  thousand  people.  Its  representatives,  well- 
educated,  courteous,  informed,  are  welcomed  into 
millions  of  homes.  Their  service  includes  Amer- 
ica's foremost  magazines.  Ladies'  Home  Journal, 
Saturday  Evening  Post,  Coronet,  American  Home, 
Holiday,  Look,  Redhook,  Countiy  Gentleman,  and 
many  others.  For  most  of  these  representatives, 
this  is  their  life-work,  an  interesting,  respected 
and  rewarding  profession. 

So  when  your  Keystone  representative  calls  at 
your  home  and  you  invite  him  in,  you  have 
opened  your  door  to  a  pleasant,  congenial  and 
interesting  person...  and  through  these  magazines 
you  have  opened  your  door  to  a  wonderful  world. 


136 


L   A    I)    I    E    S  ■ 


II    ()    \1  E 


.1    O    U    U    N    A  L 


Feb 


•ehruary,  19.'.3 


An 
economical 

dentifrice 


Cleans  teeth  thoroughly,  safely. 


odd- forming  bocterio.. 

According  to  many  dentists, 
enamel-eating  acids  in  the  mouth 
are  the  cause  of  tooth  decay. 

Ordinary  toothpastes  have  little  or 
no  effect  on  mouth  acids,  but  the 
chemical  and  cleansing  action  of  soda 
—  pure  bicarbonate  of  soda— helps 
prevent  the  growth  of  destructive 
acid-forming  bacteria  .  .  .  helps  cut 
down  tooth  decay.  And  brushing 
teeth  with  soda  after  meals  helps  do 
away  with  bad  breath  that  starts  in 
the  mouth. 

Arm  &  Hammer  or  Cow  Brand  Bak- 
ing Soda  cleans  teeth  economically, 
safely.  Year  after  year  they  continue 
to  have  the  seal  of  acceptance  of  the 
Council  on  Dental  Therapeutics  of 
the  American  Dental  Association. 

Recommendsd  for  dentures,  too 

Scrub  with  soda  and  a  stiff  brush  to 
remove  food  debris,  other  deposits. 


A  soothing  gargle  — To  cleanse  the 
throat  and  help  remove  mucus,  gar- 
gle with  1  or  2  teaspoonfuls  of  soda 
in  a  glass  of  water. 


FREE!  Booklet  — Your  Teeth  and  Their  Care. 
Write  Church  &  Dwight  Co.,  Inc.,  70  Pine 
Street,  New  York  5,  New  York. 


(C'onliiiued  from  Pane  134) 

ing  out  daily  kisses.  In  a  few  months  he 
acquired  the  habit  of  affection ! 

"Ralph's  chronic  feeling  of  financial  in- 
security was  the  product  of  an  impoverished 
boyhood  home  and  his  own  poor  choice  of 
work.  A  man  of  Ralph's  worrying  disposition 
simply  couldn't  afford  the  free-lancing  he 
mistakenly  believed  represented  freedom. 
Perceiving  this  after  numerous  consultations, 
he  took  a  regular  job.  Today  he  has  doubled 
his  income  and  with  Alice's  help  the  family 
is  rapidly  climbing  out  of  debt. 

"Ralph's  regular-job  hours,  of  course,  in- 
sure more  regular  appearances  at  home — a 
situation  pleasing  to  Alice  and  to  him  too. 
They  have  the  opportunity  now  to  go  out  to- 
gether and  they  do.  They've  again  taken  up 
the  church  work  they'd  dropped,  and  they've 
also  ventured  into  square  dancing — a  good 
choice  of  recreation  for  people  so  shy  and 
socially  insecure.  Ralph  was  as  shy  as  Alice  in 
crowds.  The  assurance  she'd  jealously  noted 
rested  upon  his  salesman's  ability  to  tell  a 
few  jokes  and  break  the  social  ice  for  others. 
He  taught  the  trick  to  Alice,  and  now  when 
she  goes  out  she  tries  to  forget  herself  and 
think  of  others'  pleasure  and  quite  naturally 
is  having  an  easier  time. 

"Naturally,  too,  the  children  are  blossom- 
ing in  the  changed  atmosphere.  Bobby  no 
longer  stammers,  and  all  four  are  getting  bet- 
ter marks  at  school.  All  four  are  touchingly 


proud  of  their  new  house.  Six  months  ago 
Alice  and  Ralph  bought  their  first  home- 
something  not  even  extravagant  Alice  had 
dared  to  imagine  as  remotely  possible  for 
them.  Moreover,  for  a  matter  of  weeks,  she 
and  Ralph  discussed  every  detail  of  the  trans- 
action together,  conversations  eminently 
satisfying  to  both. 

"Alice  and  Ralph  are  closely  united  now; 
their  dreams  and  their  hopes  march  along 
side  by  side.  He  trusts  her  not  to  ruin  him 
with  debt  and  she  trusts  in  the  love  he  still 
finds  it  difficult  to  express  in  words.  They  aid 
and  support  and  understand  themselves  and 
each  other.  Mature  people,  they  have 
achieved  a  real  marriage  and  a  real  and  happy 
home. 

"Just  as  a  postscript,"  said  the  counselor 
with  a  smile,  "Alice  has  lost  twenty-five 
pounds  and  has  a  splendid  figure.  She 
wasn't  shapeless  from  childbearing  but  from 
overeating.  No,  she  didn't  diet  for  Ralph's 
sake;  like  many  other  husbands,  he  actually 
hadn't  n^^ticed  she'd  grown  heavier  with  the 
years.  She  dieted  for  the  sake  of  her  own  self- 
respect,  without  expecting  compliments  from 
him.  But  she  received  them.  And  the  other 
day  she  called  up  and  happily  reported  a 
compliment  from  her  faultfinding  mother! 
I  knew  then  the  cure  was  complete." 

E<litors'  Nolr:  This  case  hislory  was  conipiled  and 
coiuIeiiHcd  from  actual  records  by 

DORdTHY  CAMERON  DISNEY 


IKE.  THE  MAN 

(Continued  from  Page  11) 


Eisenhower's  personality,  his  simple,  logi- 
cal proposals  when  he  assumed  leadership, 
had  an  electric  effect.  A  new  spirit  flowed 
slowly  upward  from  the  masses  through  the 
parliaments  into  the  cabinets.  Defense  budg- 
ets in  every  European  NATO  country  in- 
creased, in  some  cases  15  per  cent  to  25  per 
cent.  Military  service  lengthened  especially 
after  Eisenhower,  a  firm  believer  in  two 
years'  service  for  everyone,  used  to  say,  "  In 
my  lifetime  life  expectancy  has  risen  by 
seventeen  years;  are  two  years  too  much  to 
give  to  your  country?"  The  Danes,  with  no 
military  tradition,  upped  their  service  from 
9  to  15  months;  the  British  from  12  to  24 
months;  the  Belgians  went  to  24  months 
(though  they  are  back  at  21  today);  others 
took  the  plunge. 

How  did  Ike,  in  his  eighteen  months  in 
Europe,  bring  about  this  sudden  surge  of 
armed  strength?  How  did  he  persuade  poli- 
ticians to  boost  taxes,  to  keep  men  under 
arms,  to  risk  political  odium?  How  did  he 
persuade  former  enemies — French  and  Ital- 
ians, Italians  and  Greeks,  Greeks  and 
Turks — to  smother  their  feuds?  A  glance  at 
his  working  habits  and  personal  methods  at 
SHAPE  may  give  a  clue  to  his  future  success 
as  President  of  the  United  States. 

"  Ike's  genius  for  leadership  began  at  West 
Point,"  Brigadier  Sir  "Jimmy"  Gault,  one 
of  his  most  loyal  associates  and  devoted 
friends,  said  recently.  "He  hurt  his  knee 
playing  football  and  turned  to  coaching. 
Teamwork  became  a  fixation  with  him.  He's 
rever  forgotten  it." 

To  this  talent  for  welding  dissimilar  peo- 
ple into  a  winning  combination — or,  as  Gault 
puts  it.  "  for  making  people  love  to  work  for 
him" — must  go  much  of  the  credit  for  Ike's 
success  as  Supreme  Commander. 

"Get  rid  of  your  nationalities,"  he  told  one 
of  his  first  staff  conferences  at  the  Astoria. 
"Forget  you're  Canadian  or  Dutch  or  Am.er- 
ican  or  British.  You're  a  team:  a  SHAPE 
team  from  now  on." 

Vice  Admiral  Andre  Lemmonnier,  the 
small,  cheery  French  naval  commander  who 
was  Ike's  naval  deputy  at  SHAPE,  added  a 
few  days  ago,  "General  Eisenhower  struck 
us  at  once  by  the  way  he  brought  everyone 
into  his  confidence.  We  were  all  treated  on 
exactly  the  same  plane.  There  was  no  dis- 
crimination. Even  at  social  gatherings  he 
made  everyone  gather  around  and  take  part 
in  the  talk.  We  began  to  feel  we  knew  him." 

Part  of  Ike's  secret  is,  undoubtedly,  an 
inherent  liking  for  people.  He  always  man- 
aged to  invite  in  rotation  about  six  or  eight 


different  officers  to  lunch  with  him  at  least 
three  times  a  week.  Jovial,  exuding  confi- 
dence, he  was  intensely  interested  in  each 
new  face — regardless  of  rank. 

On  these  occasions  he  would  circulate, 
talking  to  everyone.  Eschewing  the  Martinis, 
he  would  draw  a  laugh  by  passing  up  the 
juicy  sleaks  and  ruefully  choosing  instead 
salads  and  cheese.  Patting  his  girth,  he  would 
observe  to  one  and  all  on  his  never-ending 
"battle  of  the  bulge." 

"He's  almost  too  good  a  listener,"  Lt.  Col. 
Craig  Cannon,  Ike's  able  young  aide,  once 
told  a  friend.  "He  won't  interrupt  visitors. 
He  lets  them  get  it  all  off  their  chest  and  this 
way  he  learns  a  great  deal.  Sometimes  he  gels 
deeply  interested  and  then  he'll  lean  forward, 
hooking  his  heels  on  the  lower  rung  of  the 
chair,  arms  on  his  knees  like  a  boy.  Have  you 
noticed  his  hands?  They're  massive,  work- 
manlike. And  they're  always  relaxed;  never 
twitching  or  nervous." 

Helpful  to  those  who  he  thought  were 
working  with  him  in  the  common  cause, 
Eisenhower  could  be  bluntly  harsh  to  the 
"knockers":  the  cynical  postwar  Europeans 
(and  Americans)  who  believed  in  nothing, 
who  breathed  despair.  Religion  is  deeply  in- 
grained in  Eisenhower,  and  on  one  occasion 
he  nearly  caused  a  cabinet  crisis  in  an  Allied 
country  by  personally  rebuking  a  socialist 
politician  who  had  sneered  at  faith. 

"  I  slopped  him  cold,"  Eisenhower  related 
some  lime  later,  his  color  rising  at  the  mem- 
ory. "  We  were  right  in  this  office  at  SHAPE. 
I  told  him  he  had  put  his  finger  on  the  trou- 
ble with  a  large  segment  of  his  country.  I  told 
him  there  was  nothing  more  to  say,  the 
interview  was  ended. 

"He  didn't  like  it  one  bit;  no  sir!"  Eisen- 
hower went  on,  his  mobile  features  suddenly 
relaxing  in  a  broad  smile.  "Bui  I  didn't  care ! 
A  man  who  won't  avow  allegiance  to  a  higher 
being  has  no  right  to  demand  equality  with 
men  who  do ! " 

This  w^as  one  of  Eisenhower's  deep  con- 
victions. "  Defense  is  made  up  of  three  inter- 
related parts,"  he  often  said.  "First  come 
spiritual  values;  if  a  country  hasn't  faith  or 
the  will  to  defend  itself  nothing  can  be  done. 
Next  comes  economic  strength;  if  a  country 
spends  too  much  on  arms  and  not  enough  on 
its  people's  welfare,  the  will  to  resist  will 
drain  away.  Finally  comes  military  strength. 
The  whole  is  the  multiple  of  the  three:  with- 
out all  three  you  have  noihing." 

Occasionally,  because  of  such  beliefs  and 
perhaps  because  of  his  personal  warmth, 
Eisenhower  was  called  "naive"  by  some 


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I.   A    1)    I    F.    S  ■ 


II    o    M  I 


I    <i  I 


I  r 


ns.  He  knew  this;  in  fact,  was  flat- 
it. 

/  call  mc  naive,"  he  said  once.  "  Thai 
iK)ther  me.  There  are  lotsof  c|ualilies 

so-called  naive  that  we  can  use  in 
Id.  Our  trouble  is  we  fornel  the  main 
»s;  we  ^;et  lx)^^^;ed  down  in  details, 
t  all,"  he  broke  out.  smacking  a 
fist  into  his  liand,  "dillicullies  only 
men's  minds!  If  we  all  a^ree  to  do 

we  can  do  anythinn!" 
clear  view  of  the  end  K'>als  like 
its  deavinu  the  darkness  to  the  road 

broke  down  innumerable  harriers, 
lid  occasionally  interrupt  a  lK)K^!ed- 
alf  conferi'iKi'  l)y  saying; 
iise  me,  nenllemen,  but  I  must  hi' 

stupid.  I  just  don't  seem  to  ^el 
loldinn  us  u|).  Colonel  X,  would  you 
viHK  nie  that  a^;ain?" 
,'ay  throunii  his  recital.  Colonel  X 
le^in  to  falter.  lie  knew,  Ike  knew 
he  conference  knew  that  thebotlle- 
loiued  far  ^;realer  in  their  minds  than 
iriaiUed. 

■siu'd  by  the  military,  financial,  even 
I  problems  of  twelve  (later  fourteen) 
;n  nations;  his  calendar  of  ai)i)oint- 
K)()ke(l  solidly  for  weeks  ahead;  with 
led  pressure  of  American  i)oliticians 
liin  to  come  home  and  run  for  oflice 
ure  he  fought  till  that  April  mormnn 
ley  brouuhl  him  the  New  Hami)shire 
■  returns  and  for  the  first  time  he 
e  l)('op!('  wanted  him),  Ike  found  little 
•  the  relaxation  he  loved, 
when  he  could,  he  would  "sneak  off" 
lund  of  ^olf  at  nearby  St.  (Germain 

few  cronies:  Ciault ;  or  Maj.  Cen. 
Snyder,  his  physician;  or  Bill  Robin- 
incss  manager  of  the  Herald  Tribune; 

(icn.  Wilton  "Gerry"  Persons,  his 
nan  with  Congress.  Usually,  though, 
just  to  ^;el  home  to  Mamie  in  the 
olored  house  at  Marnes-la-Coquctle, 
ninules  away. 


On  nitilUs  Ihey  did  not  no  out  their  cloHCBt 
friends,  General  and  Mrs  (iruenlher,  Gen- 
eral and  Mrs.  Norstarl,  the  rers<jnH,  OjIoik-I 
and  Mrs.  "  Pete  "  Carroll,  Ihc  Gaults.  Colonel 
".lock"  and  Mrs.  Lawrence,  minht  join 
ihein  for  bridge,  or  canasta,  or  just  talk. 

Ike's  greatest  joy,  though,  was  painlinK; 
especially  his  associates.  I  le  k)alhed  paint  m^'. 
in  seclusion.  While  staying  with  friends  oiui' 
Ike  firmly  refusi-d  the  use  of  a  j.;uest  room 
set  aside  for  him  and  brounlit  his  easel, 
canvas,  palette  and  paints  down  to  the  living 
r<K)in.  There,  clad  in  slacks  and  a  p:iint- 
smeared  blue  smock,  he  "daubed"  away  (as 
he  called  it ),  hai)py  as  a  boy  in  the  bustle  and 
laughter  and  challinn  around  him. 

"I'll  never  fornet  jjoinji  in  to  see  (General 
Ike  with  some  imixntant  jjapers  just  Ix-fore 
he  flew  back  to  the  United  States  last  .lune," 
an  aide  said  recently.  "He  was  I)aintill^^  in 
his  oflice,  inittinK  the  finishing;  touches  on  a 
l)ortrait  of  Field  Marshal  Montgomery. 
Monty  was  |X)sinK  quietly  in  a  chair  and  the 
two  men  were  clcup  in  some  intricate  i)rob- 
lem  alxHit  lr(X)p  deployment!" 

In  summing  up  what  Eisenhower  achieved 
for  the  free  world  from  January,  19,51,  to 
June,  19.52,  it  is  fair  to  say  that  no  man  liv- 
ing knows  better  the  interrelationship  be- 
tween spiritual  strength,  economic  strennlh 
and  military  strength  in  the  current  world 
situation.  Today  as  the  Krowinu  Allied  forces 
mount  the  ramparts  in  the  West  the  threat 
of  Soviet  attack  seems  to  be  diminishing. 

The  goal  of  collective  security  has  not  yet 
been  attained.  Much  remains  to  be  done.  As 
with  a  fine  machine  or  an  insurance  [jolicy, 
yearly  sums  for  maintenance  or  for  premiums 
will  have  to  be  paid  so  lontj  as  the  cold  war 
continues.  But  if  any  one  man  can  lake 
credit  for  "ix)inling  the  way"  lo  collective 
safely,  it  is  Eisenhower. 

This  is,  perhaps,  no  mean  achievement  for 
the  man  who,  on  January  20,  1953,  became 
the  President  of  the  United  Slates  and,  in 
effect,  of  Ihe  entire  free  world.      thk  kni> 


THI5 

iS  A 

WATCHING 

YOU 


THIS)  15  ^  \f<ATCH&lftD 
vyATcHING  A 
NEVER-ReADY 


Bff  Jtunro  Leaf 

One  of  the  most  tiresome  things  to  have  around  the  house  is  a 
Never-Ready.  No  matter  where  it's  to  go  or  when,  it  is  just  plain 
never  ready.  This  one  has  been  up  sinee  seven  o'clock  and  now  it 
is  just  looking  off  into  space  trying  to  remember 
where  it  put  its  pants.   It  hasn't  any  idea  where  its 
other  sock  is  either.  It  is  going  to  be  late  for  school 
and  its  father  is  late  for  work  now  because  this 
creature  is  just  never,  never,  never  ready. 


THIS  K\OMTW? 


mmmw)mmmmmmmmmmm 


NEW  WAY  TO  LOOK  YEARS  YOUNGER 


INVISIBLE  BEAUTY  STIi  Vl 

a  ''face  lill"  lor  beauty,  an  iip-lil'l  for  >our  .spirit 


□ Tlio  iiewosl  way  to  look  years 
younger  is  to  use  tliis  new 
amazing  "face  lift"  cosmetic 
iiiider  niakc-up.  You  simjily 
massage  it  onto  your  face.  You 
see,  you  feel  the  instant  ac- 
tion. You  have  an  up-hft  in  your  spirit  hceause 
you  look  younger,  more  lieautiful.  People  will 
wonder  what  secret  you  have  found. 

Invisible  Beauty  Straj)  does  wonderful 
things  for  your  face.  It  tends  to  brace  flabby 
skin,  wrinkles  seem  to  smooth  away.  Jawline 
juifrmess,  mouth-to-nose  lines,  little  age  lines 
seem  to  disappear.  Tell-tale  signs  of  worry 
and  strain  also  vanish.  Your  face,  your  con- 
tour is  firmed,  tightened,  lifted  .  .  .  you  have 
the  thrilling  sensation  of  a  "face  lift"  which 
lasts  for  hours  and  hours. 

Invisildc  Meauty  Strap.  .*.).00* 
New  eeoiioiiiv  »l«)iil>lt'-size  .'i'S.ijO* 


LIFT-  you  can  enjoy  the 

llirill  of  a  "face  lift" 


FIRM-  vour  contour  is 

(iriiii  il.  \<>ii  look  younger 


TEXTURE  TINT.  .  . 

. . .  covers  the  skin  with  a  sheer 
veil  of  glamorous  color.  Stays  on 
all  day.  Seven  beautiful  shades, 
all  in  the  new  trial  size,  .S3* 


TIGHTEN  — vour  skin  is 

tishtened  and  more  beautiful 


Frances  DEyp/EY  preparations  are  sold  in  the  cosmetic  department  of  fine  stores. 

Or  icrilr  Fk  tyCES  D£.V\fi>  in  Philadelphia.  *plustax 


I  Mi 


ffs  ftue!  I  can't  fellJitn's  old  f/'es 
■ftom  his  new  ones  since  I  had  J 
^  ihemSmjONE  

Qty  Cleaned! 


\.  A  I)  I   r;  s  '     no  \i  I.     .(  ()  II  R  N  A  r, 

TO  A.^'OTIIKIt 

(C'ontinued  from  Pane  37) 


February^  J  9 1 


7Vj  find  vtutt  Sinufiinr 
Dry  rtcam  r.  hmk  n, 
your  fihout'  hoah  far 
Ihit*  synthal  t/ir  stfjn 
of  shiiti'd  crafttimrn 
offt't't lift  this  nrw  and 
hfftvr  kind  of  scrvicr. 


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in  the  comfortable  living  room,  catch  the 
late  news,  and  go  lo  bed  in  his  very  com- 
fortable single  bed,  leaving  the  windows 
open  just  as  far  as  he  himself  felt  like.  (He 
remembered  the  dazzling  blonde  whose 
major  complaint  was  that  her  husband 
simply  wouldn't  have  a  window  up,  slept 
like  a  kangaroo,  she  said,  or  something.) 

As  he  drove  down  the  quid  wide  street, 
liie  only  liglits  still  on  were  the  .Joneses',  who 
were  ciuarreling  again,  no  doubt.  Marriage. 
liioughl  (leorge,  you  can  have  it.  He  was  sing- 
ing ho  for  the  life  of  a  bachelor  when  he 
I)ullecl  into  his  neat  driveway,  cut  tiie  lights 
of  the  big  convertible  and  leaped  out  lightly. 
Whistling,  he  moved  up  the  walk  past  the 
roses  and  reached  his  front  steps. 

There  was  a  blond  cocker  spaniel  silling  al 
the  front  door.  As  (leorge  stopped  short  with 
amazement,  the  cocker  jumped  al  him  with 
joyful  welcome,  gelling  mud  all  over  the 
front  of  his  while  pants. 

"Scat!"  said  (ieorge. 

"Wiiere  have  you  been  all  this  lime?"  the 
dog  was  obviously  saying.  Tail  going  like  a 
windmill  in  a  hurricane,  eyes  shining,  tongue 
earneslly  lapiiing  at  his  nearest  hand.  Even 
her  ears  looked  eager,  falling  behind  her  as 
she  kept  bouncing  on  him. 

"Look  here,"  said  George  earneslly, 
"  you're  making  a  mistake.  Go  on  home  now. 
Thai's  a  good  girl." 

"Whoof."  said  the  cocker.  Panting  from 
excitement,  she  sal  down  on  his  foot.  Her 
short,  compact  body  was  quivering  all  over. 
"Whoof,"  she  said,  exhausted  from  the  wel- 
come. 

"Go  home."  said  George,  and  there 
wasn't  much  strength  in  his  voice. 

The  thing  to  do  was  lo  go  in,  shut  the  door, 
and  ignore  her.  She  would  regain  her  senses 
and  go  home.  So  (jcorge  went  in;  she  tripped 
him  getting  in  with  him.  He  picked  her  up 
lo  put  her  out  lirmly.  and  she  snuggled  in  his 
arms  with  a  warm  sigh  of  pleasure,  licked  his 
collar  iervenlly.  kept  on  with  the  senseless 
wagging. 

(icorge  put  her  out,  and  shut  the  door. 
Turned  on  the  lights  in  Ihe  hall.  Then  he 
slipped  into  the  darkened  living  room  and 
peered  through  the  rosy  curtains.  She  was 
silling  there,  head  drooping,  a  figure  sadder 
than  Niobe. 

ipicoKcii  told  himself  he  couldn't  do  any- 
thing about  a  stray  dog.  Nobody  on  the 
street  had  a  blond  cocker,  he  knew  that.  And 
a  cocker  with  a  trimmed  coal,  such  softly 
beautiful  fur,  such  eyes— and  such  a  very 
fine  collar.  Why  didn't  he  look  al  the  collar 
and  see  if  there  was  a  license?  Might  as  well 
lake  a  look  anyway.  Besides,  she  was  whim- 
pering now  and  the  .sound  was  mournful  as  a 
dirge.  1 1  wasn't  a  mean  sound;  it  was  re- 
signed, but  deep  with  suffering.  Poor  little 
lost,  abandoned  Ihing. 

George  opened  Ihe  door.  She  burst  in  and 
bounced  so  hard  thai  she  caught  her  toes  in 
his  pants  and  a  few  irretrievable  threads  lore 
out.  George  went  into  the  kitchen  and  she 
followed  him;  she  went  directly  to  the  re- 
frigerator and  sal  up  on  her  little  rear  end 
and  folded  wistful  paws  over  her  soft,  fluffy 
front. 

"I'll  be  darned,"  said  George. 

He  oughtn't  to  feed  her.  He  knew  thai 
wasn't  the  way  lo  persuade  a  little  dog  lo  go 
away.  She  sat  there,  balancing  neatly.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  on  him.  never  wavered.  Her 
ears  hung  limp.  She  was  starving  lo  death. 

George  opened  the  refrigerator.  There  was 
no  trouble  atxnil  what  to  offer  her;  a  quick 
velvet  nose  popped  in  and  she  withdrew  a 
whole  plate  of  sliced  chicken.  She  held  the 
plate  in  her  mouth,  set  it  down,  and  ab- 
sorbed the  chicken,  without  stopping  her 
tail  an  instant. 

George  had  never  had  a  dog —not  fair  when 
he  was  gone  all  day,  he  had  said.  His  grand- 
mother had  never  let  him  have  any  pets,  they 
mussed  things  up  so.  So  he  had  only  a  few 
speaking  acquaintances  with  a  boxer  and  a 


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M  I 


/  It 


\  I 


lie  and  ;i  couple  of  (lailishiinds.  Just 
Bed  the  time  ol  day  willi  llu  iii. 

now  tlie  tiling  lo  do  was  to  |)ul  this 
out,  and  ^olobed. 

lie  ale  very  dehcatcly.  tiiouuii  very  fast, 
vas  iiind  of  cute  tiie  way  lier  ears  fell  on 
brim  of  tiie  |)late.  Her  color  was  atxiut 
,  moonliulit,  her  collar  was  pale  fawn,  and 
I 'H  she  lifli'd  iier  head,  (ieorue  could  sec 
I  the  lici'iise  tau  had  sli|)ped  out  of  the 
lie  metal  rinn.  The  rinu  went  click,  click  on 
plate,  hut  there  was  at)solutely  no  Ian 
re. 

leornc  jiicked  her  up  she  was  very  easy 
)ick  up  and  carried  her  to  the  door,  and 
her  out.  She  ran  away  (|uile  naily.  '/'//en  , 
tiiouKht,  llial's  llial.  Wauled  ii  lunuloiil 
r  (ill  wtmt  n.  ji<sl  tiUcr  IIiihks. 
le  iK'cked  through  the  d(H)r  to  see  whert' 

■  went.  Where  she  went  was  to  his  best 
ul  Scarlet  rosebed,  where  she  sat  ck)wn 
elly,  Roinn  to  the  bathroom.  Then  she 
ide  the  dirt  lly  with  a  scrabbling  of  the 
nt  paws,  and  Hew  back  to  the  door, 
.leornc  let  her  in.  "  Now  look,"  he  said,  as 
•  greeted  him  as  if  he 

(I  been  on  a  polar  ex- 
ililion  and  just  come 
i.k alive.  "Now, look, 
iss  M(X)n,  this  can- 
t  no  on.  ^'ou  are  H(il 

■  doK." 

She  kissed  him. 
"All  ri,nht,"  said 
orije,  "  you  may  stay 
'  rest  of  the  ni.uht. 
the  uiorninii.  I'll  find 
tir  owner." 

■ilu'  went  back  lo  the 
chen.  leadinu.  him. 
it  were,  and  she  went 
llu'  sink  and  sat  up. 
;or,iie  was  bright 
Hiuh  lo  know  she 
nted  a  drink,  and 
/e  it  lo  her.  in  a  Can- 
1  soup  bowl.  Her  ears 
in  the  bowl,  the  tips 
re  soaked.  So  George 
)k  a  clean  dish  towel 
:1  wiped  them  off;  the 
l  pale  Hold  curls 
ffed  up.  she  sighed 
hjoy.  ■ 

'For  a  lost  tramp." 
d  George,  "you  lake 
ngs easy." 

He  gol  his  aulo  robe 
i  laid  it  by  the  stove, 
was  a  little  chilly, 
lybe  she  would  catch 
d.  She  was  not  a  big 
isliff  or  anything, 

I  a  little  blond  feminine  thing,  and  George 
s  kind. 

[t  was  gelling  late;  this  affair  had  lost 
n  his  reading.  He  smoothed  the  robe  out 
1  showed  il  to  her,  and  she  hopped  right 
it  and  remade  il  with  busy,  important 
«s.  wadding  il  up  in  a  hassle, 
jcorge  laughed.  She  was  really  a  smart 
I.  He  condescended  to  pat  her  for  good 
;hl,  which  resulted  in  a  love  fest  on  her 
rt.  Such  bouncing  and  kissing  and  tail 
gging. 

'  was  a  strange  place,  he  thought,  maybe 

oughtn't  to  leave  her  in  the  dark.  He  got 

I  a  night  light  and  plugged  it  in;  in  the 

n  glow,  he  saw  her  watching  him  with 

)se  shining  amber  eyes. 

'Good  night,"  said  George,  closing  the 

3r. 

Sy  the  time  he  had  taken  off  the  wTecked 
[Its— his  best  white  ones  too— he  found  out 
It  cockers  were  allergic  to  closed  doors, 
e  sounds  which  rose  penetrated  the  whole 
use— but  it  was  a  small  house,  all  on  one 
ar,  a  ranch  house  with  no  ranch, 
jeorge  firmly  shouted  to  her.  and  she  lis- 
ted politely,  then  howled  again.  For  a 
all  dog.  she  could  make  a  good  howl,  like  a 
'It  pack  on  the  desert.  George  got  into  bed 
d  pulled  a  blanket  over  his  ears;  he  could 
ar  it  plainly.  No  doubt  the  neighbors 
M.  And  how  pitiful  it  was,  a  desperate, 
t  wail.  Maybe  she  was  sick.  Maybe  she 
d  choked  on  her  collar,  or  broken  her  leg 


or  something  leaping  at  the  door  and  laknii; 
ofl  all  the  (inish. 

(ieorge  lasted  afxnit  thirteen  niinuleH.  then 
|)added  into  the  kitchen.  He  was  jjoinu  i«» 
show  her  what  for.  all  right.  He  (.|K-ned  the 
fl(X)r  savagely. 

Actually  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  lie 
could  see  them.  She  leajK-d  on  him.  her  warm 
l>ody  Hung  against  his  i)ajanias.  He  smelled 
the  rather  chickeny  odor  and  the  scent  of  her 
fur.  which  was  like  fresh  meadow  hay. 

"Oh.  well,"  said  (leorge  helplessly,  "have 
it  your  own  way;  it's  only  for  tonight  any- 
way." 

He  left  the  door  open.  She  must  have 
claustrophobia 


made  It  back  to  his  bed  just  as  she  did. 
ioi)|>ed  up  and  curled  herself  u|)  and  set- 


Married  Love 


Itii  I'aul  I..  Itt'nnt'll 

All  gold  I  glimpsed  in  your  gay 

maiden  grace 
A  cloud,  a  stone,  a  tree,  a  whirl  of 
colors 

Thrown  across  the  sun  or  hung 

dew-damp  upon  a  hough. 
A  cold  pebble  soft  against  a  burned 
tongue 

Or  kindled  by  love's  flame  to  shine 

upon  your  throat. 
A  graceful,  green,  twin-stemmed 

tree  of  fruit 
For  me  and  mine  -  all  gold  and  gay 

maiden  grace. 
And  now  I  know  I  saw  you  not  at 
all- 

A  cloud,  a  stone,  a  tree,  a  whirl  of 

colors- 
Mere  shades  of  what  you  are  to 
me : 

My  sky,  my  sun,  my  earth,  my  sea. 


II. 

She 

lied  down  with  a  hai)|)y  sigh.  The  minute  he 
got  into  bed,  she  moved  over  and  si)read  her- 
self right  on  his  feet. 

( W'orge  moved  her  off.  She  gol  back  on.  1  le 
moved  her  off.  She  got  back  on.  after  easing 
u])  to  pl.mt  a  moist  kiss  on  his  face. 

George  went  lo  sleej). 
In  the  morning  she 
woke  him  up  kissing 
his  ear.  His  feel  were 
still  asleep.  When  the 
needles  worked  out.  he 
went  to  the  kitchen, 
accompanied  by  his  lit- 
tle companion. 

The\  had  bacon  and 
eggsandloasl  forbreak- 
fast.  She  was  a  most 
companionable  thing; 
she  nibbled  the  toast, 
wolfed  the  bacon,  made 
a  parly  of  the  eggs, 
and  thanked  him  con- 
stantly with  thai  beat- 
ing morsel  of  tail. 

George  had  lo  get  to 
work.  He  decided  lo 
leave  a  note  for  the 
housekeeper:  "I  have 
this  dog.  I  am  hunting 
the  owner.  Please  be 
kind  to  her." 

Then  he  wondered  if 
the  woman  really  would 
be  kind  to  her— Miss 
Moon  had  so  much  feel- 
ing. Maybe  she  would 
whack   her  or  some- 
thing. Until  he  found 
the  owner,  he  haled  lo 
have  her  abused.  Be- 
sides, when  he  got  his 
hat  out.  she  carried  on 
something  dreadful. 
"May  as  well  be  hung  for  a  sheep  as  a 
lamb,"  said  George,  at  last,  and  let  her  get 
in  the  car. 

He  phoned  the  ASPCA.  He  phoned  the 
Lost  and  Found  in  the  Star.  He  put  an 
ad  in  the  Evening  Sun.  And  Miss  M(X)n 
chewed  up  a  couple  of  documents  in  the 
office,  ate  a  good  lunch  of  hamburger  and 
toast,  slept  on  his  feel  while  he  worked  over 
a  brief,  and  was  tally-ho  for  home  when  the 
day  was  done. 

He  found  a  note  from  the  housekeeper: 
"Mr.  Talobol,  I  am  a  respetible  woman,  no 
carryings  on.  When  I  find  blond  hairs  in  your 
bed,  you  are  not  the  kind  of  man  I  work  for, 
I  will  colleck  my  pay  tomorrow." 

"Look."  he  said,  "look,  you're  really  ruin- 
ing my  life! " 

He  fi.xed  a  supper.  He  had  been  asked  out, 
but  he  felt  he  didn't  want  to  leave  her  until 
he  found  her  owner.  He  fixed  more  ham- 
burger and  he  had  ham  and  grilled  pine- 
apple. He  was  a  good  cook,  and  Miss  Moon 
loved  his  cooking.  She  ate  her  own.  and  part 
of  his  ham,  and  two  slices  of  pineapple.  Think 
of  a  dog  eating  pineapple,  said  George. 

After  supper.  George  improvised  a  leash, 
tied  it  on  Miss  Moon's  collar  and  went  out 
walking  around  the  block  and  stopping  to 
ask  if  anyone  knew  anyone  who  had  lost  a 
pedigreed  blond  cocker  spaniel.  He  went 
around  the  next  block,  and  the  next,  and 
Miss  Moon  had  a  wonderful  time  with  all  the 
smells.  Every  now  and  then  she  paused  and 
looked  up  at  him  with  warm  love. 


UP  TO 


in 


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140 


L   A   D    I    K    S  •       HOME  JOURNAL 


Feltruary,  I'm 


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MOST  TRULY  EXPRESS  YOUR  SENTIMENTS 


V 


"  I'm  not  a  Fuller-brush  man,"  said  George, 
"and  I  can't  stop  at  every  single  house  in  the 
whole  city.  We'll  give  up  for  tonight;  maybe 
there'll  be  an  answer  to  the  ads  tomorrow." 

All  that  fresh  air  and  exercise  made  him 
sleepy.  But  he  had  a  little  reading  to  do,  so 
he  settled  down  on  the  couch,  and  opened  the 
book.  A  paw  appeared  in  the  middle  of  the 
page.  George  removed  it.  "You  get  down." 

She  hung  her  head  and  brooded  over  the 
dreadful  words.  George  read  the  same  sen- 
tence four  times,  then  he  sneaked  a  look  at 
her.  Instantly  two  paws  came  up  and  the 
book  slipped  to  his  knees. 

"You  are  a  terrible  nuisance,"  said 
George.  "  I  ought  to  take  you  to  the  pound." 

She  kissed  him  happily. 

That  night  she  didn't  sleep  on  his  feet;  she 
moved  up  and  stretched  comfortably  by  his 
knees  so  that  every  time  he  turned  over,  she 
turned  over  too.  Arid  every  time  he  turned, 
she  gave  a  sigh,  a  patient  forbearing  sigh. 

The  second  morning.  Miss  Moon  took  over 
guarding  .he  house.  She  didn't  actually  bite 
the  paper  boy,  she  only  took  a  very  small 
piece  out  of  his  trousers.  The  meter  reader  re- 
fused to  brave  the  vicious  animal  at  all,  and 
George  had  to  hold  her  while  he  read  the 
meter.  She  kept  uttering  fearsome  growls, 
and  folding  back  her  lips. 

But  she  simply  loved  the  battered  old 
junkman  and  welcomed  him  happily.  "Dogs 
always  know  their  friends,"  said  the  junk- 
man. 

It  was  such  a  nice,  sunny  Saturday  that 
George  thought  he  would  work  in  the  garden 
while  he  was  hanging  around  in  case  a  phone 
call  came. 

At  his  heels,  his  small  blond  companion 
wagged  along,  and  the  minute  he  began 
transplanting,  she  became  very  helpful.  She 
lugged  the  plants  away  the  minute  he  lifted 
them  with  the  trowel,  and  tossed  them  in  the 
air,  and  pounced  on  them.  George  chased 
her,  and  she  whooped  around.  He  gave  that 
up  and  began  to  hoe;  she  hoed  right  with 
him,  burying  her  velvet  nose  and  fiailing  the 
dirt  high  with  her  earnest  paws.  She  was  a 
born  gardener.  In  the  course  of  her  work,  she 
dug  up  and  played  ball  with  four  Darwin- 
tulip  bulbs,  two  hemyi  lilies  and  an  occa- 
sional crocus.  They  were  through  blooming 
anyway. 

Finally  she  took  a  small  rest,  lying  with  her 
hind  legs  out  like  a  frog,  her  head  on  her 
muddy  paws,  her  ears  spread  flat.  She 
watched  George  with  interest,  dark  eyes 
shining.  The  sun  was  warm,  the  sky  was  del- 


icately spread  with  lamb  clouds,  the  air 
smelled  sweet.  It  was  very  peaceful  in  the 
garden.  George  found  himself  humming, 
"My  fair,  my  truly  truly  fair."  He  raked  up 
the  weeds  and  carried  them  to  the  compost 
heap  back  of  the  garage. 

And  just  as  he  was  laying  them  down,  he 
heard  a  sudden  scream  from  Miss  Moon. 

He  ran  so  fast  he  tripped  over  the  top  of 
the  sunken  garbage  can  and  wrenched  his 
ankle.  At  a  fast  hobble,  he  got  to  the  gar- 
den, and  a  scrubby  little  mongrel  was  furi- 
ously battling  the  cocker.  Moon  jumped 
up  and  down  and  grabbed  an  ear,  the  mon- 
grel sank  his  teeth  in  the  back  of  her  neck, 
they  kept  whirling  around  so  fast  that 
George  could  hardly  tell  who  was  biting 
whom.  He  got  the  broom  in  three  seconds, 
and  tried  to  beat  off  the  mongrel.  Then  he 
waded  in  himself  and  hauled.  He  got  the 
cocker  in  his  arms,  and  the  mongrel  also, 
since  he  was  attached  to  her  ear.  Finally  he 
had  to  let  go,  and  the  dogs  broke  apart, 
breathing  heavily.  George  whipped  the 
broom  at  the  stranger,  grabbed  Miss  Moon 
again,  and  the  battle  was  over. 

"What  you  let  your  dog  pick  on  Skip 
for?  "  asked  a  voice.  A  teen-ager  stood  there, 
belligerent. 

"You  get  your  mutt  out  of  here,"  said 
George  thickly.  "I  ought  to  turn  you  in  to 
the  police!  Might  have  killed  my  dog! " 

"He  never  started  it,"  said  the  boy.  "He 
never  picks  on  females.  She  lit  into  him.  He 
was  just  passing  the  time  of  day." 

"Pass  it  somewhere  else,"  said  George, 
stalking  to  the  house. 

He  put  iodine  on  the  hand  that  was  bit- 
ten, and  went  over  the  trembling  cocker.  Her 
fur  was  damp  in  places  and  she  had  a  mouth- 
ful of  the  mongrel's  fur  in  her  mouth,  other- 
wise she  was  in  very  good  shape.  She  had  a 
look  of  triumph  in  her  eyes,  as  a  matter  of 
fact. 

George  made  some  fresh  coffee.  He  felt 
tired  out. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  "I  can't  spend  all 
my  time  on  you!  You  lead  your  life  awhile 
and  let  me  lead  mine ! " 

The  doorbell  rang.  George  shut  Miss  Moon 
in  the  kitchen,  just  so  she  wouldn't  start 
anything  again,  and  answered  it.  A  big 
square  man  stood  on  the  porch.  He  wore  a 
startling  blue  suit,  pointed  bright  brown 
shoes,  and  had  no  hat. 

"  I've  come  for  my  dog,"  he  said. 

Here  was  the  end,  the  chance  to  get  rid  of 
the  nuisance,  finish  things  up. 


Othor  Vi4'WN.  anil  l*ri<'4>N  of  V<»|Su4'  I'nIloriiK 

on  Vuitv^s  52  &  5» 

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Vogue  Design  No.  7924.    One-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  75c. 
Vogue  Design  No.  792.5.    "Easy-to-Make"  one-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to 
38.  60c. 


7921 


Corns 

ALLOUSES  •  BUNIONS  •  SORE  TOES 
ENDER  SPOTS 


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3^  Stops  Corns  and  Callouses  Before  They 
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V 


Al  baby  shopt,  drug 
and  department  tlorei 

Reedsburg,  Wisconsin 


UNWANTED  HAIR  ? 

IT'S  OFF  because  IT'S  OUT 


)uick  as  a  wink,  superfluous  hair  eliminated.  Com- 
letely  removes  all  hair  from  FACE,  arms  and  legs. 
Checks  future  growth.  Leaves  the  skin  petal-smooth. 


e  F=  I  1_  A  T  o  R 

.ike  magic.  Milady's  skin  becomes  adorable.  For  the 
nest  down  or  the  heaviest  growth.  Seems  miraculous, 
ut  our  39  years  experience  proves  it  is  the  scientifically 
arrect  way.  Odorless.  Safe.  Harmless.  Simple  to  apply, 
uperior  to  ordinary  hair  removers.  For  15  years  ZtP 
pilatorwas  $5.00.  NOW  ONLY  $1.10.  Same  superior 
Drmula,  same  size.  Good  stores  or  by  mail  $1.10  or 
C.O.D.  No  Fed.  tax.  Above  guaranteed,  money-back,  j 
kJORDEAU  INC.  Box  B-11.  squth  ORANGE.  N.J. .J 


I      \     I)     I     I      ^  II  (I 

( icor^f  looked  llif  man  over,  and  H\»ikr 
I  oldly.  "  Wh.it  doK?" 

"Vou'ie  the  parly  advcrliscd  (iiidiiiK 
IK-dinretd  do^  in  the  paiK-rs,  ain'l  you?  VVlII, 
I  come  lo  Kcl  him." 

"VV'licif  did  you  lose  your  don?"  aKi<e(l 
(Jfornc,  steppinn  out  lo  the  \xinh  and  clos- 
ing' llie  d(K)r.  Ilccoiilfi  hear  Miss  M<x)n  Htarl- 
int.;  those  desolate  sliul-d(K)r  blues, 

"Will,  I  jiisl  leave  the  d(M)r  ()|x.-n  lo  Ihe 
c  ar  and  he  jumps  oul." 

"VViiat's  liis  name?"  asked  (Jeorne. 

"Rover,"  said  Ihe  man  (juickly,  "I.ike  i 
said,  he's  onv  ol  I  hose  iH-di^reed  cocker  snan- 
nells." 

Cleorne  slared  hard  al  the  man.  "Aiul  jusl 
whal  color  is  lie?" 

Tile  mans  eyes  siiifled.  lie  sucked  in  his 
lips,  and  then  said,  "Same  color  as  any  span- 

Ileil." 

".\nd  wiial  color  minhl  tliat  he?  "  Ccortjc 
asked  liim. 

"  Black,"  said  liie  man. 

("icorne  spoke  sharply.  "  I  supix)se  you 
think  you  can  sell  him  and  clean  up  a  little? 
If  that's  your  racket,  I  ouuiit  to  turn  you  in 
to  the  police.  Move  fast  now,  before  I  lose  my 
temper!" 

The  man  backed  up.  "  You  can't  keep  my 
do^! "  he  yelled. 

George  raised  his  fist.  The  man  started 
back  down  the  steps. 

"And  furtlieriTiore,"  George  shouted  after 
him,  "he's  a  she!" 

Closing  the  door,  he  mopped  his  face. 
Ciood  Godfrey,  he  had  threatened  two  ix;o- 
ple  with  the  |)olice  in  half  an  hour!  He,  the 
even-tempered,  quiet  GeorKc! 


The  only  way  to  prevent  people 
knowing  it  is  not  to  do  it. 

—CHINESE  PROVERB 


The  phone  was  ringing.  He  answered  it. 
It  was  a  Mrs.  Worth,  who  inciuired  about  the 
lost  dog.  Her  elkhound  was  missing. 

George  went  back  to  the  kitchen.  The 
cocker  sat  on  his  chair,  her  paws  on  the  edge 
of  the  table,  and  there  were  now  only  two  of 
the  four  bakery  cupcakes  he  had  left  there. 

"Oh,  my,"  said  George,  "I  forgot  to  feed 
you.  It's  way  past  lunchtime.  Where  did  the 
morning  go?  " 

Saturday  morning  had  always  been  so 
dull.  Y'ou  couldn't  call  lliis  one  dull,  thought 
George,  getting  out  the  skillet  and  starting 
an  omelet. 

The  phone  rang.  He  turned  off  the  burner 
and  answered  it.  Somebody  had  lost  a  Bel- 
gian shepherd  and  wondered  if  George 

was  pretty  short  this  time.  He  got  back  and 
finished  fixing  lunch,  reminding  himself  that 
he  had  to  settle  the  housekeeper. 

The  phone  rang.  George  was  really  mad. 
"Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want?"  he 
barked. 

The  voice  was  obviously  young  and  prob- 
ably quite  sweet,  but  it  rose  with  anger.  "  Is 
that  the  way  you  generally  answer  the 
phone?" 

"I'm  too  busy  to  stand  at  the  phone  all 
day,"  said  George.  "State  your  business." 

"I  certainly  will!  Now  I  know  you're  the 
man  who  lured  my  dog  away,  and  I've  been 
just  frantic— and  if  you've  harmed  one  hair 
of  her  head  " 

"Now  wait  a  minute,"  said  George.  "Try 
to  control  your  temper.  I  gather  you,  too, 
lost  a  dog?  Half  the  dogs  in  this  town  are  lost. 
I  haven't  got  them!  I'm  just  about  dished 
with  all  these  people." 

"Don't  avoid  the  issue,"  said  the  voice. 
"  I  want  to  come  over  and  get  my  dog  right 
away." 

"How  do  I  know  she's  your  dog?  Describe 
her,  please.  I'm  not  going  to  turn  her  over  to 
any  Tom,  Dick  or  Harry." 

"Harriet,"  she  said,  "Harriet  Gresham. 
And  she's  the  sweetest,  dearest,  most  intelli- 
gent, most  wonderful,  most  loving  "  The 

voice  broke. 

"And  just  what  kind  of  a  dog  is  she?  " 


I  I  I 


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ACROBAT  RANCHER, 


Uncle  Jim,  c/o  .\crobat  Ranch.  Dept.  LHJ-^3 
General  Shoe  Uuildinj;,  Nash\'iUe  3.  Tennessee 


Same  

Child's  yame  

Address  

City  Zone ....  Siai£. 


142 


L   A   D    I    K    S  '       II    O    VI    K       JO    II    K    N    \  I, 


February,  i953 


%mm  mmi 


L 


Hunts 


IT 

For  breakfast  or  dessert , 


SWISS  STEAK -Hunf  Style 

Mother,  your  family's  gonna  love  you  for  fixing  this 
mouth-watering  dish ! . . . 

The  tantahzing  flavor  accent  comes  from  the  spicy, 
all-tomato  goodness  of  Hunt's  Tomato  Sauce.  That's 
the  cooking  sauce  that's  kettle-simmered  for  richness. 

So  many  folks  prefer  Hunt's  Tomato  Sauce  that  it's 
America's  largest-selling  brand!  Do  get  some  at  your 
grocer's  and  try  this  delicious  recipe... 

I  medium-sized  onion,  sliced    3  fbsp.  fat 
3  fbsp.  chopped  green  pepper 

In  a  heavy  skillet,  cook  onion  and  green  pepper  in 
the  fat  until  tender.  Then  take: 

'bs.  beef  (round,  chuck,  rump) 

Pound  flour  into  the  beef  with  the  edge  of  a  heavy 
plate.  Brown  meat  on  both  sides  in  the  fat.  Then  add: 

7  eon  Hunt's  Tomato  Sauce  I  tsp.  Worcestershire  saute 
I  cup  wafer    1V2  tsp.  salt    Vi  tsp.  pepper 

Cover  and  simmer  1  Vz  hours  or  till  tender.  Then ! . . . 

Serve  4  people  delicious  helpings  of  Swiss  Steak 
•that'll  do  you  proud!  It's  perfect  with  nice  flufTy  rice. 

Keep  several  cans  of  Hunt's  on  hand.  For  stews, 
soups,  roasts,  casseroles.  Costs  but  a  few  cents  a  can. 

Hunt-fbrtfie  best" 


Hunt's  Heavenly  Peaches 


Hunt  Foods,  Inc.,  Fullerton,  California 


Nobody  can 
advice  than 


"She's  a  blond"— the  voice  choked— "a 
beautiful,  wonderful  blond  cocker  spaniel. 
Her  name  is  Moonlight." 

"O.K.,"  said  George.  "It  might  possibly 
be  the  one." 

"I'll  be  right  over,"  she  said. 

George  went  into  the  living  room.  He  lit 
a  cigarette.  He  sat  down.  His  troubles  were 
really  over  this  time.  Even  the  dog's  name 
fitted. 

A  soft  velvet  nose  poked  in  his  hand,  dark 
amber  eyes  looked  at  him  sympathetically. 
A  warm  tongue  sandpapered  his  palm. 

"I  feel  awful,"  said  George.  "I  must  be 
coming  down  with  virus  X." 

He  got  up  and  went  to  the  bedroom,  fol- 
lowed by  Miss  Moon— or  Moonlight.  He 
took  an  old  brush  and  gave  her  a  good  go- 
ing over.  She  wagged  gratefully.  Her  coat  was 
shining  and  deep,  and  no  sign  of  the  dog- 
fight remained.  One  eye,  though,  was  a  little 
red,  he  suddenly  noticed.  He  made  a  little 
cold  conipress  and  held  it  over  the  left  side  of 
her  face.  She  was  very  good.  The  other  eye 
kept  looking  fondly  at  him. 

"Look  here,"  said  George,  "that  creature 
who  owns  you  may  be  awful,  but  I  guess  you 
belong  to  her  all  right." 

He  sat  down  on  the  couch.  A  very  soft, 
very  gentle  little  dog  sat  on  his  lap,  looking 
very  depressed  because  he  seemed  depressed. 

"Virus  X  all  right,"  muttered  George,  and 
the  doorbell  rang. 

Still  carrying  the  cocker,  he  opened  the 
door. 

"Moonlight!"  cried  the  girl  who  stood 
there.  "Oh,  Moon,  my  darling!"  and  she 
burst  into  floods  of  tears. 

"Here,  come  in,"  said 
George,  and  pushed  the 
door  shut  behind  her. 

The  cocker  jumped  from 
his  arms  and  made  for  the 
girl.  She  gave  her  the  key 
to  the  city  all  right,  the 
fickle  thing. 

The  girl  sat  on  the  couch, 
and  the  blond  dog  was  licking  her  wet  face 
all  over.  Presently  the  girl  mopped  her  face, 
and  looked  at  George. 

"  I  was  so  frightened,"  she  said,  "1  haven't 
slept  a  wink." 

"  When  you  have  a  good  dog,"  said  George, 
trying  to  be  firm,  "you  ought  to  look  out  for 
her." 

The  girl  looked  at  him.  She  was  a  small 
girl,  quite  plain,  with  brown  hair  and  gray 
eyes.  She  wore  a  very  simple  dress,  and  her 
make-up,  if  she  ever  wore  any,  was  gone  with 
the  tears.  Her  small  hand  on  the  golden  fur 
was  scrubbed  and  nicely  shaped,  and  the 
bones  looked  strong. 

"  I  was  doing  the  errands  for  mother,"  she 
said,  "because  it  was  my  day  off  from  the 
office  and  she  can't  drive,  and  I  had  the  win- 
dows closed— only  the  front  one  was  ajar 
because  I  was  afraid  Moonliglit  might  suffo- 
cate, and  somebody  came  along  and  pushed 
it  open  and  she  got  out.  She  just  vanished. 
I  spent  hours  on  the  street  — I  went  every- 
where. I  phoned  everybody.  I  went  to  the 
police  station  and  the  Society  for  the  Pre- 
vention of  Cruelty  to  Animals.  I  had  it  on 
the  radio— I  suppose  you  never  turn  on  the 
radio?  Dick  and  Mary  mentioned  her  a 
dozen  times  in  their  program.  And  all  the 
time  you  had  her!" 

"Well,  I  didn't  steal  her,"  said  George. 
"And  I  didn't  turn  her  over  to  the  dognaper 
who  tried  to  get  her  either.  She  simply  came 
in  and  exercised  the  right  of  eminent  do- 
main." 

Suddenly  the  girl  smiled,  and  her  smile 
was  lovely.  "I  apologize  for  being  so  cross," 
she  said,  and  put  out  her  hand. 

George  took  it,  and  her  clasp  was  firm  and 
strong.  Most  of  the  girls  he  knew  put  out 
limp  little  cold  fish  to  be  shaken. 

"  I  apologize  too,"  he  said.  "  I  had  . , .  kind 
of  a  hard  morning.  What  with  one  thing  fol- 
lowing another." 

"What  have  you  fed  her? " 

"Well,  let  me  see.  Hamburger  and  eggs 
and  milk  and  pineapple  and  cupcakes  with 
orange  icing  and  " 

"She  can't  eat  sweets  and  starch!"  the 
girl  told  him. 


"Take  it  up  with  her,  then,"  said  George, 
grinning  suddenly.  "Or  haven't  you  noticed 
she  has  a  mind  of  her  own  ?  " 

The  girl  laughed.  "We'll  be  going  along,' 
she  said.  "  I  will  give  you  a  check  for  the  re- 
ward." 1 

"There  are  things  money  can't  buy,"  saic 
George.  He  got  up  and  looked  at  the  two  of 
them.  "How  about  some  coffee  before  yot: 
go?"  ] 

"If  it  isn't  too  much  trouble,"  she  said! 
"I  don't  want  to  interfere  with  your  plans 
I  just  haven't  been  able  to  eat  with  Moon- 
light gone.  I  was  so  afraid  she'd  been— thalj 
I'd  never  see  " 

' '  Here, "  said  George,  offering  a  clean  hand 
kerchief. 

They  all  went  to  the  kitchen,  and  Georgii 
fixed  the  coffee,  and  made  some  sandwiche;! 
with  thinly  sliced  ham  and  sharp  cheese.  Hcj 
left  the  mustard  out  of  Moonlight's.  i 
"I  called  her  Miss  Moon,"  he  said,  as  hr^ 
poured  the  coffee. 

"I  suppose  she  was  terribly  scared  ancjjJl 
miserable,"  said  Harriet,  after  her  seconcal* 
sandwich.  | 

"  Well,  not  particularly,"  said  George.  "Ii'i  //, 
fact,  she  seemed  to— in  fact,  I  guess  she'l  3]* 
the  kind  of  dog  that  can  adjust  easily."       :  '  , 

"Oh,  yes,  she  is!"  Harriet  told  himi 
"She's  always  been  so  good  and  so 
She  smiled.  "Only  she  doesn't  care  for  meteSJas. 
readers." 

"Or  paper  boys,"  added  George. 
They  laughed  uproariously. 
George  took  out  a  pad.  "I  better  hav 
your  address  and  phone  number,"  he  said 
"just  in  case  she  gets  lost  here  again." 

"Oh,  I'll  never  let  he 
out  of  my  sight  an  instan' 
again,"  she  said  positively 
"Except  I  do  have  to  g' 
to  the  office— I'm  a  secre 
tary  for  Knapp  and  Knap] 
and  Knapp." 
George  wrote  down  he 
•^Nkilil     address  and  phone  nun>^wi 
ber  nevertheless. 
And  then  she  got  up  and  thanked  him  fo 
the  coffee  and  sandwiches.  She  snapped 
leash  on  the  cocker  and  moved  to  the  fron 
door.  They  said  good-by.  George  went  out  ti 
the  porch  too. 

As  they  reached  the  sidewalk  and  the  gii^ 
opened  the  car  door, 'the  cocker  turned  ani 
looked  back  at  George.  She  was  in  a  state  o 
indecision  apparent  to  everyone. 

"  I  guess  she  had  a  pretty  fine  time,"  san 
the  girl. 

And  as  she  drove  away,  George  could  se,  /l ' 
the  golden  head  of  the  little  dog  thrust  ou,  \ 
of  the  window,  looking  back. 

The  house  was  silent  and  empty.  Ther| 
wasn't  a  crumb  of  sound  anywhere  in  it .  Whe; 
he  cleaned  up  the  kitchen,  nobody  was  ther  l 
to  bother  him.  When  he  took  up  his  book,  n«j 


if  to 

t-iii 
¥< 

tlti 


If  III 


give  you  wiser 
yourself. 

—CICERO 


JDS- 


paws  intervened. 

It  was  all  exactly  as  it  had  been;  the  hfe  o  iliS 
George  could  now  flow  in  its  accustomed  roujE' 
tine.  George  threw  the  book  down  and  wan| 
dered  to  the  bedroom.  There  was  still  a  lum; 
where  Moonlight  had  reorganized  the  blan, 
kels.  And  a  few  crumbs  of  cupcake  lay  01 
his  pillow. 

Oeorge  waited  just  about  an  hour,  anriv 
then  he  went  to  the  phone.  While  he  waited!'' 
for  the  answer,  he  noticed  that  his  handijj 
were  not  very  steady. 

"Look  here,"  he  said,  when  the  nowji 
familiar  voice  breathlessly  spoke,  "I  won]' 
der  if— I  wonder  if  you  and  Miss  Moon  arei 
busy  this  evening?  " 

"Well,  I'm  not.  I'll  ask  her."  There  was  c' 
pause.  "She  says  she's  free  too,"  Harriei 
told  him. 

"Well,  could  I  pick  you  up  for  a  picnic! 
supper?"  he  asked.  "I  know  a  place  that'sii 
just  made  for  dogs  to  run,  a  hilltop  out  ir li- 
the country." 

"It's  already  after  four,"  she  said  doubt-, 
fully. 

"You'd  be  surprised  at  how  fast  I  car 
make  it,"  said  George. 

And  as  he  hung  up  he  was  singing,  and 
the  words  he  was  singing  were,  "How  I  lovl 
my  fair,  my  truly  truly  fair!"  He  felt  fines 

THE  ENlj 


■ia 

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I        \      I)      I       I  '  II      (I      M  I 

III  Alt  V  OF 
IMI>li:SiiMTV 

(Conlinued  from  I'aue  iS) 

I  lie  colder  the  day,  the  warmer  supper  lights 
look,  the  sweeter  is  that  smoke  risinn  from 
the  plump  chimneys.  Al  the  store,  joe  and 
(".(•orge  and  I/)iiis  and  joe's  pretty  young 
wile  hold  a  continual  get-together  all  day. 
Kveryone  discusses  just  how  cold  il  was  by 
the  hack  of  his  own  barn  al  six  in  the  morn- 
ing, how  deei)  the  ice  is  Ihey  are  cutting  from 
the  pond,  just  when  the  February  thaw  will 
arrive  and  exactly  what  Doctor  (ihisclm 
said  to  the  lillle  boy  who  sneaked  outsiflc 
with  his  measles  and  worked  on  a  snow  man 

Il  is  all  so  warm  and  friendly,  we  feel  sue 
a  community  of  spirit  in  the  winter,  a 
united  against  the  sterner  aspect  of  Nature. 
Iliere  can't  be  any  real  virtue  in  slaying 
through  I  he  coldest  weather  if  you  can  pop 
down  and  pick  oranges  and  graix'fruil,  but 
we  always  feel  there  is!  Anyhow,  the  bin  I 
depend  on  us  for  seeds,  suet,  peanut  buiu  i 
I  wonder  how  they  fared  in  ihe  early  limes 
when  there  was  nobody  at  all  to  wait  on 
ihem.  The  Indians  probably  had  enougii  on 
their  minds  wilhout  feeding  chickadees! 

Valeniine's  Day  is  exactly  the  right  holi- 
day for  this  month,  such  a  springlike  young 
and  gay  day.  Ribbons  and  ix)sics  and  red 
hearts  and  sugary  little  cakes  and  lacy  valen- 
tines arc  all  fun.  And  a  Valentine  Buffet  is 
an  easy  way  to  celebrate  this  lighthearled 
holiday. 


I^^OR  this  we  have  saved  those  neat  broilers 
in  the  freezer.  For  a  big  party.  I  bake  them, 
it  is  so  easy.  I  use  the  big  dripping  pan 
and  put  seasoned,  cooked  rice  in  it.  I  lay  the 
split  broilers  on  lop,  and  season  them  liber- 
ally with  salt,  pepper,  mixed  herbs,  mono 
sodium  glulamate.  a  pinch  of  good  chili 
powder  or  a  rub  of  garlic.  I  dot  each  with 
margarine  or  butter  and  bake  them  in  a  slow 
oven  until  the  broilers  are  lender  and  crusty. 
The  rice  absorbs  the  goodness  of  the  ccwking 
broilers,  and  the  whole  thing  is  a  one-pan 
affair.  To  serve,  I  pile  the  rice  on  a  hot  plat- 
ter, top  with  the  broilers  again,  sprinkle  with 
fresh  minced  parsley.  My  Christmas  heated 
tray  goes  under  the  platter  to  keep  il  all 
piping.  Peas  are  traditional  with  chicken, 
but  if  we  have  any  frozen  asparagus  left,  I 
use  thai,  dressed  with  salt  and  pepper  and 
hot  margarine  or  butter.  This  stays  snug  in 
the  warming  pan  of  the  chafing  dish.  Finger 
salad  is  best  for  this  buffet— crisp  celery, 
radishes,  pickle  slicks,  olives. 

If  I  feel  ambitious,  I  do  an  angel-food  cake 
and  frost  il  with  pink  icing  and  decorate  il 
with  cinnamon  candies.  If  I  do  not  feel  so,  I 
slice  paper-thin  some  of  my  Christmas  fruit- 
cake, add  a  plump  cheese  on  a  cheese  board 
for  those  who  don't  eat  sweets,  and  fill  the 
coffeepot  again. 

Guests  can  come  almost  any  lime  with 
this  kind  of  buffet,  and  I  don't  gel  nervous 
wondering  whether  anything  will  be  burned 
up  or  dried  out. 

When  the  fire  has  died  dowTi.  and  the 
candles  bum  low,  and  ever>'  lap  is  com- 
fortably accommodated  with  a  cocker,  we 
usually  play  one  of  those  word  games,  mod- 
em versions  of  Animal,  Vegetable.  Mineral; 
Who  am  I?;  or  Twenty  Questions.  Or  we 
hslen  to  old  favorite  records.  And  then  out 
in  the  cold  sharp  air  the  guests  go,  mil- 
lened  and  scarved  and  booted  and  wrapped 
like  cocoons.  The  dogs  rush  in  and  out.  climb 
into  the  first  open  door  of  the  first  car.  are 
lugged  back.  Jill  keeps  Daphne  beside  her, 
Daphne  is  such  a  parly  girl  anyway. 

The  night  is  incredibly  still  and  beautiful 
with  that  purity  and  clarity  thai  nothing 
but  cold  can  provide.  Lights  are  twinkling 
out  all  down  the  valley,  and  the  church 
spires  stand  against  the  night. 

We  talk  il  over,  admiring  our  neighbors, 
finding  new  nice  things  about  everyone  thai 
we  just  hadn't  knowTi  before,  and  this  is 
really  the  peak  of  a  parly.  In  fact,  it  is  prob- 
ably'whal  parlies  are  for! 

And  so  to  bed.  What  a  short  month  this 
is,  to  be  sure,  I  think,  and  tomorrow  we  had 
better  get  oul  the  garden  catalogues  and  plan 
for  the  growing  season.  THE  end 


I  1 


"Junket 


The  onl/ 
pre-cooked 
fudge  and 
frosting  mix. 


Top  cakes  with  fudge-y 
pre-cooked  frosting  this 
new  4-minute  way! 

Complement  cakes  with  creamy-rich  icing 
made  from  "Junket"  Quick  Fudge  &  Frost- 
ing Mix -you'll  get  lots  of  compliments. 
It  couldn't  taste  better!  Try  it  today! 


TRADE-MARK 


QUICK  FUDGE  &  FROSTING  MIX 

3  DELICIOUS  FLAVORS:  CHOCOLATE,  PENUCHE,  COCONUT 

"JUNKET"  iRee.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off.)  Is  Ihe  trade-mark  of  Chr.  Hansen's  l^boratoo".  Inc..  Liltic  Falls,  N.  Y., 
for  its  fudge  and  frostine  mix  and  for  its  rennet  and  other  food  products. 


144 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  19 


Sgt.lst  Class 
Einar  H.  Ingman 
U  S.  Armj 

Medal  of  Honor 


Ihe  reds  in  ambush  on 
the  ridge  had  lain  concealed,  with- 
holding their  fire.  Now  they  opened  up. 
The  two  squads  were  trapped.  Their 
leaders  were  wounded;  others  were 
dropping. 

Sgt.  Ingman  took  command.  He  re- 
organized the  survivors,  assigned  fields 
of  fire,  encouraged  the  men  to  fight.  A 
red  machine  gun  opened  fire.  The  ser- 
geant charged  it  alone,  neutralizing  it 
with  a  grenade. 

Then  he  tackled  another  gun.  A  gre- 
nade and  a  burst  of  fire  knocked  him 
down,  badly  wounded.  He  got  up, 
reached  the  gun,  and  dispatched  the 
entire  crew.  When  his  squad  reached 
him,  they  found  Sergeant  Ingman  un- 
conscious—but 100  of  the  enemy  fleeing 
in  panic. 

"Bucking  the  Commutiists,"says  Ser- 
geant Ingman,  "takes  an  awful  lot  of 
staying  power.  The  G.I.'s  have  got  it. 
You  have,  too,  when  you  invest  part  of 
your  hard-earned  pay  regularly  in 
Bonds." 

Bonds  are  first  of  all  a  cash  saving 
for  you.  But  they're  also  back  of  our 
country's  production  power.  Which 
couples  up  with  G.I.  fire  power  to  keep 
the  peace  for  all  of  us. 


Now  E  Bonds  pay  3%!  Now,  improved 
Series  E  Bonds  start  paying  interest  after 
6  months.  And  average  3%  interest,  com- 
pounded semi-annually  when  held  to  ma- 
turity! Also,  all  maturing  E  Bonds  auto- 
matically go  on  earning— at  the  new  rate— 
for  10  more  years.  $18.75  can  pay  back 
$33.67.  $37.50  pays  $67.34.  And  so  on. 
Today,  start  investing  in  U.  S.  Series  E 
Defense  Bonds  through  the  Payroll  Savings 
Plan  at  work.  Remember,  IVa  million  fel- 
low Americans  find  it  a  wonderfully  easy 
way  to  save.  Or  ask  your  banker  about  the 
convenient  Bond-A-Month  Plan. 

Peace  is  for  tlie  strong! 

For  peace  and  prosperity  save  with 

U.S.  Defense  Bonds! 


The  U.S.  Government  does  not  pay  for  this  advertisement.  It  is 
donated  by  this  publication  in  cooperation  with  the  Advertising 
Council  and  the  Magazine  Publishers  of  America. 


"The  sergeant  charged  alone  .  •  .* 


SAY  IT  WITH  A  GOOD  OINIVER 

(Continued  from  Page  59) 


VEAL-AND-HAM  ROLL 

Place  a  2-pound  piece  veal  steak  (cut  off  the 
top  of  the  leg)  on  a  meat  or  bread  board,  cat 
out  the  round  center  bone  and  pound  the  veal 
with  a  wooden  mallet  or  an  old  ironstone- 
china  plate,  until  thin  enough  to  roll — about 
thick.  Crush  1  small  clove  garlic  with 
1  teaspoon  salt  and  spread  evenly  over  the 
pounded  steak. 

For  the  ham  filling:  Brown  1  onion, 
chopped,  in  1  tablespoon  butter  or  margarine. 
Trim  the  crusts  from  3  slices  white  bread. 
Soak  the  bread  in  cold  watfer,  squeeze  dry 
and  mix  well  with  1  pound  lean  ground  raw 
ham.  Add  1  egg,  }/i  teaspoon  pepper  and 
teaspoon  paprika.  Mix  and  knead  well  into 
the  ham.  Shape  the  ham  filling  into  an  ob- 
long roll. 

Place  the  fdling  lengthwise  in  the  center 
of  the  v^eal  steak.  Roll  the  veal  around  the 
ham  filling  and  se- 
cure with  poultry  pins. 
Tie  with  string  in  sev- 
eral places.  Sprinkle  the 
roll  with  salt  and  pep- 
per. Roll  well  in  flour. 
Heat  2  tablespoons  but- 
ter or  margarine  in  an 
oval  or  rectangular 
roaster  big  enough  to 
accommodate  the  roll. 
Brown  the  veal  roll 
well  on  all  sides  in  the 
fat.  Push  to  the  side  of 
the  pan  and  saute  an 
onion,  chopped,  in  the 
drippings.  Add  1  cup 
wa  ter.  Cover  the  roaster 
tightly  and  bake  in  a 
moderately  slow  oven, 
325°  F.,  1  hour  or  until 
the  veal  is  tender,  bast- 
ing 2  or  3  times  during 
the  baking  with  the  pan 
juices.  Lift  onto  a  hot 
platter.  Remove  all 
string  and  poultry  pins. 
Slice  and  serve  with  the 
pan  juices,  or  strain 
the  juices  and  make  a 
slightly  thickened 
gravy.  Not  too  heavy. 
Just  thick  enough,  as  a 
good  gravy  should  be 
just  right! 


ar  -I 


^0 


01 


A  great  discovery. 
One  day,  in  a  beautiful 
garden  in  Italy,  a  dis- 
covery came  to  light.  A 
birth  had  taken  place. 
More  than  the  fruition 
of  an  idea,  it  was  one  of 
the  great  discoveries  of 
the  vegetable  kingdom. 
Broccoli  became  a  re- 
ality. And  at  once  it 
caught  on,  as  we  know.  Then  began  the  rivalry 
among  the  masters  and  the  housewives  as  to 
how  to  cook  it  to  the  best  advantage,  and 
from  that  memorable  day  scores  of  cooks 
from  all  over  wanted  to  knotv  liotv.  And 
scores  of  ways  were  devised  and  developed 
for  making  this  vegetable  the  delicious  and 
desired  one  it  is  today. 

As  is  the  case  with  many  .or  most  of 
our  fine  foods,  the  simplest  way  of  prepar- 
ing it  for  the  table  is  the  best  way.  And 
here  is  one  of  the  best: 

BROCCOLI 
WITH  LEMON  DRESSING 

Mhc       cup  lemon  juice,  }4  fup  salad  oil, 

teaspoon  paprika,  i  teaspoon  sugar, 
teaspoon  salt,  1  clove  garlic,  crushed  or  finely 
minced,  and  1  tablespoon  finely  chopped 
onion.  T^et  stand  several  hours  for  these  di- 
versities to  get  together  in  one  grand,  mys- 
terious flavor.  Shake  well  and  pour  over  hot 
freshly  cooked  broccoli  (2  packages  frozen 
broccoli  or  1}'2  bunches  fresh  will  be  about 
right).  Sprinkle  the  broccoli  with  hard- 
cooked  egg,  chopped. 


Roses  and  radishes.  Well,  not 
roses,  but  relishes,  anyway.  Celery  cut 
crisped  in  ice  water.  Salad  of  greens  of  diffe 
ent  shades,  all  cold  and  disposed  with  a  sha'' 
French  dressing.  Every  leaf  lightly  coati 
with  the  oil  and  vinegar  and  finding  i 
place  in  the  scheme  of  things.  For  of  ; 
things  on  the  menu,  the  salad  sets  t 
pattern. 

The  final  touch.  You  know,  or  most 
you  do,  how  I  am  likely  either  to  overlook  t 
dessert  or  else  get  busy  on  it  right  after  t 
soup.  This  time  I'm  on  the  beam.  For  this 
the  place  for  it.  And  here  I've  done  my  sti 
for  it  at  the  right  time  and  place  and  I  expe^ 
quite  a  lot  of  applause.  Applause  may  not 
exclusive  for  my  end  of  things,  but  when 
comes  to  the  dessert  itself,  that  rates  a  b 
hand  and  I  hope  it  gets  it.  But  get  on  the  j( 
now  and   see  wh 
you're  expected  to  r 
about  it. 

(] 

CHERRY  i 
CHEESECAKE  | 

Roll  or  grind   a  ^ 
ounce    package  zwi* 
back.  Mix  the  crura 
with  4  tablespoons  bir 
ter  or  margarine  ani 
tablespoons  sugar;  ] 
teaspoon  cinnamon  '§\^jf 
be  added  if  cinnamc 
is  your  dish.  For  a  pe 
feet    cheesecake  y< 
will  need  a  10"  spriK 
form  pan  23^2"  dee 
These  pans  have  maw  1  \ 
uses  BO  you  might 
vestigate.  Pat  tl| 
crumb  mixture  in  tl 
bottom  and  up  the  sii 
of  the  pan.  Mix  1  ci 
cream    into    1  poui 
cream  cheese.  Add 
cup  sugar  thorough 
mixed  with    2  tabi 
spoons  flour  and  te 
spoon  salt.  Separate 
eggs.  Beat   the  yoll"! 
until  light  and  thict 
Fold  them  in  carefuU 
and  flavor  with  1  tel 
spoon  vanilla  and  ;'| 
teaspoon  grated  lemt! 
rind.  Beat  the  3  ef 
whites  to  a  stiff  foa 
and  fold  in  last  as  car^ 
fully  as  if  you  wej 
walking  a  tight  roj! 
the  first  time  with  rj 
balancing  umbrell 
Pour  the  mixture  inf 
the  crumb  crust.  BaB 
in  a  moderately  slo; 
oven,  325°  F.,  aboiit  • 
hour  or  until  firm  and  lightly  brownei" 
Leave  in  the  oven  an  hour  with  the  heat  of 
Cool  thoroughly. 


yet  I  Must  Love  You 

Itit  3tarjttrif  Washburn 

Yet  I  must  love  you,  in  tender 

tiredness 
Consider  how  young  you  are  and 
without 

Carefulness,  who  so  often  wound 

my  breast 
And  turning  to  my  tears,  cared  not 
about. 

I  must  love  you  because  you  are 
laughter, 

And  wit,  and  will  mature  in  your 

harsh  charm. 
You  live  in  the  moment  and  not 
after — 

You  will  be  hurt — but  do  not  feel 
alarm. 


For  I  love  most  of  all  that  hidden 
heart, 

And  it  will  be  found,  it  will  grow 

and  give — 
Oh,  we  were  together,  but  years 
apart, 

In  years  to  come  we  will  flower 

and  live. 
Now  I  wish  only  for  your 

happiness, 
And  by  my  brief  and  sweetest  love, 
be  blessed. 


Cherry  Topping:  Drain  1  No.  2  can 
pound  5  ounces)  pitted  red  sour  cherri«] 
packed  in  heavy  sirup.  Measure  out  ^ 
of  the  cherry  sirup.  Mix  2  tablespoons  con 
starch  with  }/^  cup  sugar  in  a  small  sancepai  I  'l" 
(Gradually  add  the  cherry  sirup  and  }/g  tei 
spoon  grated  lemon  rind.  Heat,  and  stir  cor 
stantly  until  thick.  Continue  cooking  ov 
low  heat  about  15  minutes.  Add  the  draine 
cherries.  Cool  a  little.  Pour  on  top  of  th 
cooled  cheesecake.  Spread  the  cherries  t  <' 
}/2"  from  the  edge.  Cool  before  cutting. 


Noiv  gather  round  ilie  fire.  With  cup 
of  steaming  coffee  handy  by,  gather  roun 
the  blazing  fire.  Let  the  wind  whistle  dow 
the  chimney  and  Jack  Frost  do  his  lates 
designs  on  the  windowpanes.  We  are  fo 
fun  and  laughter,  and  the  moon  looks  dow 
with  its  cold  fire  to  rival  ours.  We  ar 
gay.  The  winter  is  heading  toward  spring 
We  have  struck  our  tents.  We  are  on  th 
march.  the  eni] 

I 


I.  \  I)  I 


II     '»     \|     I         I     II     I      |(     N    A  I 


I  I 


Bur- Lines  ^ 


ANY  of  my  Buy-Liiu-s  iTadcis  have  hciu  ilicir 
lavoi  iic  (  (joking  "secrets"  to  me,  and  I'm  sure 
ihcy'd  want  mc  to  share  them  with  you  ...  go  I'll 
i.irl  with  these:  To  make  a  whit<-r,  ntidicr  rite,  add 
S  ,1  icaspoonfii!  of  lemon  juice  to  each  quart  (jf  rapidly 
hoilint;  water  .  .  .  for  "company  special"  (  ream  of 
lickcn  S(iii|),  sprinkle  each  serving  with  chopped  toasted  almonds  immediately  before 
viiig.  I'll  have  more  cooking  "cues"  next  month  .  .  .  but  now  let's  go  "shopiiing." 


I  /  ri5Kl'ARY  IS  SUCH  A  I  l.S  I  I\  h  MON  Til  ...  so  why  don't  you  plan  to  have 
,y  a  party  on  Washington's  or  Lincoln's  liirihday  or  on  Valentine's  day  ...  or 
)l  three?  And  when  you  do,  let  '"SCO  TCI  I"  (IcUophanc 
ipc  help  you  gel  things  ready  ...  in  a  jilly!  It's  ideal 
r  so  many  things,  I  think  .  .  .  I'or  sealing  gift  pac  kages, 
ichoring  decorations  in  place,  making  novel  i)la(e 
rds  and  favors,  for  example.  I  also  use  cellophane 
pe  to  label  borrowed  parly  ecjuipment  ...  for  I  find 
at  it's  not  only  the  perfect  way  to  identify  the  owner, 
It  is  a  constant  reminder  to  me  that  1  must  return  it. 
SCX)  i'C;H"  Cellophane  Ta|)e  is  such  a  joy  to  use,  too 
,  .  because  it's  iransiiarent  and  sticks  at  a  touch.  So  if  I  were  you,  I'd  get  several  rolls 
■xt  time  you're  shopping  .  .  .  then  let  each  member  of  the  family  have  an  individual 
)11  of  this  iai)e-with-a-thousand  uses,  just  be  sure  it's  "SCOTCH"  Brand  Tape  you 
■t,  though  ...  in  the  gay  plaid  dispenser  at  stores  everywhere. 


OU'RF,  I-OR'l  UNATE  TO  BE  A  MODERN  MISS  ...  for  now  at  last  there's  a 
corn  |)lasler  made  especially  to  lit  a  woman's  smaller  toes !  And  I  take  great  pleasure 
1  introducing  it  to  you  .  . .  new  BLUE-JAY  I-adies  Size  Corn  Plasters  with  Plunylium. 
hey'rc  narrower  and  smaller  than  regular  size  corn  plasters  ...  fit  snugly  even  on 


NEW  DRUG 


your  little  toe  and  nestle  smoothly  even  in  your  dressiest  shoes. 
I've  told  you  about  BLUE-JAY'S  new  Wonder  Drug,  Plunylium 
.  .  .  how  it  travels  down  through  your  corn  right  to  the  base — 
quickly,  gently.  There  it  helps  new  live  tissue  cells  to  grow. 
These  new  cells  push  up  even  a  stubborn  corn  ...  so  you  can 
DUFIJYI  IIIKA  j*^'^'  '''^^  ''^         ^"^'^  C'k'en  more  important  is  this  .  .  .  Phniylium 
r IstNl  LIUfVl  vv'ent  to  work  33' i  faster  than  other  leading  remedies  in  actual 
sts!  That's  w  hy  I  recommend  BLUE-J.AY  Corn  (and  Callus)  Plasters  so  highly.  So 
sist  on  new  BLLTE-J.^Y  Ladies  Size  Corn  Plasters  with  Phaiylium  and  get  really 
jick,  comfortable  relief.  They're  at  your  drug  counter  .  .  .  now. 

7 ELL  ME  ONE  THING  .  .  .  why  in  the  world  should  you  pay 
a  fabulous  price  for  lovely  underthings?  I  wouldn't  .  .  .  I'd 
ways  choose  Undies  of  SPUN-LO  rayon  fabric  ...  for  they're  a 
ixury  in  everything  except  price!  Take  their  panties,  for  instance 
.  .  since  they're  made  of  SPUN-LO,  they're  wonderfully  soft, 
nooth  and  absorbent.  In  addition,  they're  full-cut  .  .  .  designed  to 
ve  you  perfect  comfort  with  complete  freedom.  They're  also  run- 
iislant  and  have  reinforced  seams  .  .  .  wear  practically  forever.  I  find  _ 
lat  SPUN-LO  panties  wash  in  a  wink,  too,  and  dry  while  you 


:ep  (which  is  certainly  fast  enough  even  if  you  have  only  one  //  \  \  \ 
iir!)  .  .  .  and  need  no  ironing.  Still  they  cost  but  a  "song"  ...  /  /"^ 

ly  about  69c!  And  you  won't  believe  it,  I  know  .  .  .  but  SPUN  LO 
)wns  are  actually  under  $2!  Both  are  available  in  your  own  special  size  ...  in  many 
ITercnt  styles.  Just  be  sure  you  insist  on  one  label,  though  .  .  .  SPUN-LO.  Remember 
.  .  it  bears  the  Good  Housekeeping  Seal. 


i  /ONDERFUL  IS  THE  WORD  for  VENIDA  Tissues  ...  in  fact,  I  think  they're 
(/    by  far  the  best  you  can  buy!  That's  because  they're  triple-ply  for  extra  strength 
and  absorbency  ...  yet  are  so-o-o  soft.  They're  as  gentle  as  a 
caress  to  even  the  most  sensitive  skin.  And  there  are  VENIDA 
Tissues  for  your  every  need  .  .  . 
VEN;DA  Ra/nbow  Facial  Tissues  in  a  pretty  package  that  belongs  on  your 
dressing  fable  . . .  White  and  lovely  pastel  shades  of  Peach,  Maize,  Blue  and 
Green  "peeking"  through  a  cellophane  window.  VENIDA  Kor-Tissues  .  .  . 
100  full-size  facial  tissues  in  a  specially  designed  package  which  you  clip 
to  the  sun  visor  of  your  car  for  handy  use  while  driving.  VENIDA  "Mentha- 
Kerchiel"  Tissues  with  Pure  U.S. P.  Menthol  to  help  relieve  colds  ...  in  a 
pocket-size,  air-tight  package.  VENIDA  Bathroom  T/ssues  .  .  .  also  in  Peach, 
Maize,  Blue,  Green  and  White,  to  harmonize  with  your  color  scheme. 
3  whenever  you  shop  for  tissues,  be  sure  to  insist  on  VENIDA  ...  I  know  that  you 
nd  your  family!)  will  be  glad  you  did! 

QT  SURPRISES  ME  when  I  hear  my  friends  complain  about  cleaning  up  dirty 
A  pots  and  pans  after  meals  .  .  .  because  I  thought  everyone  knew  the  easy  way  to 
can  'cm  and  make  'em  shine  .  .  ."in  jig-time."  I'm  speaking 
■  S.O.S.,  of  course,  the  scouring  pad  with  the  magic  com- 
ination  of  cleansing  soap  and  tough  interwoven  fibres  ... 
le  combination  that  takes  off  dingy  spots,  cleans  up  black-  ^ 
led  scorch,  gets  into  difficult  corners  .  .  .  S.O.S.,  the  cleanser  " 
lat  leaves  your  utensils  really  clean.  As  if  this  weren't_ 
lough  .  .  .  S.O.S.  eliminates  all  the  tough  rubbing  .  .  .  saves 
m  elbow  grease  as  well  as  your  time.  That's  why  I  find  ( 
.O.S.  ideal  for  another  kitchen  job  .  .  .  cleaning  my  stove.  • 
.^herever  food  spills  over  and  burns  on,  wherever  grease 
)atters,  I  use  S.O.S.  Try  it  on  oven  liners,  oven  racks,  on  broilers  ...  see  how  fast 
jur  stove  gleams  again !  In  fact,  do  as  I  do  all  the  time  .  .  .  leave  kitchen  chores  behind 
.  .  leave  them  to  S.O.S.!  Get  some  at  your  Grocer's,  today. 


'     hy  Mincy  Sasser 

cyCooL'  ivliuL  J)  liilue  jar  tjuu  . 


.N'l.WS  .  .  r«|)r(ially  about  a  product 
SO.M'!  And  it  rrally  'i%  wonderful  .  ,  . 


0  I'^^^'  ''^liKINfiVOl'GOf)!) 
\/y    y   ;>»  wonderful  a«  CU  TICirKA  Srj 

for  ihix  fraitratii,  ricli-lailirririK  *>>.\\>  itUme,  of  all  leading 
doaps,  is  tufirrliilleilt  This  is  iMip<ir(ant  .  .  .  Ixrauw  drrinaii)l'>|<;iiu, 
do(  torn  and  iK-.uiiy  etiitors  aurre  thai  iii|>rrrallrd  *ua\n  are  the 
tiiildrsi  of  all  soaps  for  your  skin!  I'lirilirrmorr,  CC  I  K:l"R,\  SOAP 
is  mildly  medicated  .  .  .  not  only  dors  an  rxlra  %\H-n.i\  (  irarwini.'.  |i<l), 
protects  and  preserves  your  skin  to  hrlj)  keep  it  truly  youn^ft- 
tookint^.  It  docs,  loo  .  .  .  brings  new  ix-ial  s'lfmrss  to  dry  skin, 
alluiing  fresliness  to  oily  skin  and  even  lie||«i  heal  rxiernally  raus<  '|, 
skin  blemishes  and  iriiiaiions.  Hut  I  want  you  \o  jjrovr  to  youtiirlf 


.  tu),  in  all  fairnru  to  youoclf,  you 


what  wonders  CT'  I  K :i ' k A  SOAP  can  work 
must  lak<-  advantage  of  this: 

WONDIRFUL  OFFIR  .  .  .  o  chance  to  get  a  gonoroui  SAMPIE  of  CUTICURA  SOAP  to  try!  It'i 

your,  (or  only  10c  .  .  ,  sno  OFFER  §\  In  box. 


<^IIE  NICFXI  \'ALL\'ri\E  you  could  ^ivc  or  get  is  this 
^  brand-new  color-illustrated  IxKtklet  .  .  .  "BO/i/JfC.VS  70 
Miifiic  lieetpe^."  It's  really  too  marvelous  for  words  .  .  .  contains 
2fi  pages  of  sweet-treat.s  with  bright  color-illustrations  whii  h  let 
you  see  exac  tly  how  fticturr-finjecl  each  one  will  Ijc !  And  just 
looking  at  them  makes  my  mouth  water  .  .  .  the  mrjst  luscious 
pies,  puddings,  candies,  cookies,  custards,  frostings  and  other 
dazzling  desserts  this  side  of  Paradise.  All  are  Sf)  quick,  easy  and 
e(()nomi(al,  too  .  .  .  for  they're  made  with  BORDE.N'S  Eagle 
Brand  Sweetened  Condensed  Milk.  It's  nourishing  whole  milk 
and  sugar,  you  know,  already  blended  for  you  to  ( reamy-smooth  fx.-rfeclion  .  .  .  which 
saves  you  time,  work  and  money  while  making  each  sweet  dish  taste  richer  and  more 
de-c-lish!  But  only  seeing  is  believing  how  truly  priceless  this  recipe  booklet  is  ...  so 
be  sure  to  sec  OFFER  #2  in  box  below  and  enclose  lOc  for  each  copy  you  want.  And 
get  several  .  .  .  your  friends  will  want  one,  too. 


wonderful 
It  cost5  so 


is  that  you 


/-^       //ERE'S  A  REAL  OPPORTUNITY  ...  a  chance  to  get  this 
\  J>^wAr   new  Y^KWY^W  folding  Adap-tahle  at  a  BIG  bargain  price 
i^"^  little  and  docs  so  much,  I  got  several  .  .  .  one  for  each  member     ,  ^ 
of  the  family.  And  wc  use  them  for  everything  .  .  .  eating  and  reading 
in  bed,  writing,  typing,  sewing,  drawing,  for  games  and  homework. 
The  KAMKAP  Adafi-tahle  answers  your  every  whim,  too  .  .  .  you  can 
raise,  lower  and  tilt  it  ...  as  well  as  fold  it  up  flat  for  easy  storage  in 
the  closet  or  under  the  bed.  .And  the  size  of  this  portable,  all-purpose 
table  is  just  right .  .  .  the  sturdy  top  (which  tilts  to  almost  any  angle!) 
measures  17"  x  22"  and  can  be  raised  from  25"  to  37"  in  height. 
Comes  in  a  deep,  rich  walnut  tone  and  is  all-steel  construction  .  .  . 
built  to  last  a  lifetime!  I  know  you'll  want  one  at  least  ...  so  see 
OF'FER  #3  in  box.  Then  enclose  SI  1  in  cash.  Money  Order  or  check 
...  or,  if  you  prefer,  I'll  have  it  sent  to  vou  C.O.D.  plus  postage.  All  I  ask 
ACT  TODAY  ...  for  this  is  a  once-in-a-lifetime  OPPORTUNITY. 

/'UCKY  YOU  if  you  can  draw,  sketch  or  paint ...  for  artists 
oC  are  in  great  demand  now-  .  .  .  especially  women  artists! 
Furthermore,  there's  good  money  in  art  .  .  .  and  it's  one  of  the 
few  professions  in  which  you  can  earn  money  at  home.  .So  why 
not  find  out  just  how  talented  you  are  ...  by  sending  for  the  famous 
Art  Talent  Test. 

It's  FREE  .  .  yet  was  developed  as  a  result  of  38  years  of  experience  by 
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L    A    U     1     K        '        HOME        J     (>    U     K     IN    A  L 


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nivSIGN  BV  II. T.  WILLIAMS;  MOU^L  BY  L»l 

Living  and  dining  look  out  upon  and  walk  out  upon  a  lounging  and  party  terrare  made  private  ~ 
by  our  liglit-reilecting  fence.  The  masonry  chimney-end-wall  adds  beauty,  stability  and  value. 


Small  but  Complete 


Ideal  for  the  young  couple  starting  off 
in  life  or  for  the  elderly  couple  retiring 


Closet  space  is  well  planned 
and  ample;  a  compact  heating 
unit  is  in  the  attic;  trash  re- 
moval is  under  kitchen  window. 


TERRACE 
IZ-0\  28-0' 


The  minute  you  imagine  stepping  inside  this  house 
from  its  paved  and  protected  inset  entrance  porch 
your  mind's  eye  is  met  by  an  amazing  amount  of 
light  and  space  for  a  house  as  small  as  this.  Hut 
you  soon  discover  the  reason  why:  it's  the  way  the 
house  is  planned.  Take  it  step  by  step.  The  entry  is 
off  in  one  corner  where  people  can  come  and  go 
unobtrusively,  yet  its  space  flows  unimpeded  into 
the  living  space,  just  as  the  living  space  in  turn 
flows  unimpeded  into  the  dining  space.  Each  space 
has  its  own  individual  privacy  and  purpose,  yet 
each  shares  with  the  others  to  achieve  a  fine  feeling 
of  total  spaciousness.  By  sharing  the  whole  un- 
divided length  of  sunny  window-  wall,  both  living 
and  dining  likewise  enjoy  a  fine  feeling  of  total 
lightness.  In  passing  through,  note  as  an  amenity 
often  missing  in  much  larger  houses,  not  only  the 
fireplace  itself,  unusual  enough,  but  its  cozy  and 
quiet  location.  Note  the  step-saving  placement  of 
the  kitchen  in  relation  to  entry  and  dining;  its  own 
step-saving  self:  and  the  privacy  provided  the  bed- 
room wing.  So  what  it  all  adds  up  to  is  that  while 
good  planning  can't  make  a  house  bigger,  it  can 
certainly  make  it  a  whole  lot  better. 

—By  RICHARD  PRATT 

Architectural  Editor  of  the  Journal 


148 


I'pbrunrv,  19; 


STKP  IIVTO  THE  KIT4  HEN 

(Conliniied  from  Page  SO) 


range  is  a  honey,  with  three  units  and  a  deep- 
well-cooker  unit  which  can  be  raised  if  you 
want  it  for  extra  surface  cooking.  I  always 
do!  Beside  it.  a  nine-inch  cabinet — wide 
enough  to  prevent  people  from  swiping 
against  pan  handles— has  a  platter  file,  a 
drawer  for  tongs  and  suchlike. 

Between  range  and  sink,  ample  cabinets 
iiold  utensils  and  supplies,  and  a  beater  hangs 
on  the  wall,  ready  for  seven-minute  frosting 
at  a  finger  touch.  These  portable  mixers  are 
a  boon,  they  take  up  so  little  room  and  work 
so  hard. 

The  sink,  under  a  window  that  catches  all 
the  sun,  has  a  garbage-disposal  unit,  and  a 
dishwasher  that  pulls  out  to  load.  Beyond 


I 


Space-milking  Jiuor-lo-ccil'itf;  cupboards  Jit 
beside  chimney;  one  for  c.xlra  dishes  and 
glassware,  the  other  for  cleaning  aids. 

the  sink,  the  refrigerator  opens  handily  on  a 
good  work  counter  with  a  wooden  top  for 
chopping  and  slicing. 

The  knives  keep  sharp  in  slots  at  the  back, 
and  the  vegetable  unit  is  below,  so  when  yoa 
wish  to  add  a  sliver  of  onion,  there  it  is.  "I'he 
refrigerator  is  very  special,  as  it  has  a  moist- 
cold  section,  so  even  uncovered  foods  will 


Beside-freezer  cabinet  holds  packages, 
wrappings  for  frozen  food.  Counter  is 
handy  when  sorting  out  freezer  contents 
or  unloading  market  basket  after  shopping. 


not  dry  out;  the  top  section  holds  froa 
foods  at  zero.  For  long-time  planning,  the 
is  a  freezer,  too,  just  beyond  the  service  di 
It's  fine  planning  to  have  your  freezer  rig| 
in  the  kitchen,  instead  of  having  to  run  dc 
cellar  or  out  to  the  back  storage  room 

Chairs  and  table  at  the  gay  eating  cen 
opposite  the  window  are  modern  but  nl 
stark— black  metal  legs,  green  plastic  cfc 
seats,  plastic  table  top.  The  color  of  tl,  i 
kitchen  is  easy  too.  Cherry-red  linoleu  ,mi 
Hoor  with  striations  that  add  a  texturi  jUv' 
look,  washable  wall  fabric  in  cherry  red,  pii 
and  gentle  green.  Window  and  range  wal 
are  painted  a  soft  green,  the  rest  of  t 
woodwork  is  moth  gray.  Candy-striped  ci 
tains  and  gay  color  notes  in  china  and  a 
cessories  add  a  fresh  and  lively  feeling 
this  kitchen. 

For  a  buffet  supper,  the  glazed  ham  ai 
fixin's  go  on  the  table,  guests  fill  their  plat 
and  move  easily  to  the  dining  and  livit  I:  m\ 
rooms  for  good  eating,  good  talk,  and  a  g0(^  I. 
time !  And  what  makes  it  so  easy  is  the  pla  iij 
ning  of  that  kitchen!  1  it 


WINDUP 

(Continued  from  Page  51) 


The  engine  gleamed  like  a  jewel  and  I 
could  almost  feel  the  power  of  it.  The  chrome 
fittings  looked  almost  like  pure  silver.  Kitty 
would  like  that. 

I  locked  both  sides  of  the  garage  and 
started  toward  the  house. 

While  I  splashed  around  in  the  bathtub, 
I  thought  about  Kitty.  Kitty  Kamber  was 
the  cutest  girl  in  the  gang.  When  she'd  first 
come  to  Mansfield  High,  big  dumb  me,  all  I'd 
had  to  do  was  tell  her  which  way  it  was  to 
the  English  class.  But  that  had  been  enough 
to  tell  me  that  she  was  something  different. 
She  was  almost  a  foot  shorter  than  I  was, 
long  blond  hair  that  kinda  curled  at  the 
■  bottom,  and  eyes  that  danced  and  said  things 
that  you  couldn't  very  well  put  into  words.  I 
saw  plenty  that  day  to  tell  me  she  was  just 
what  I  wanted.  And  I  mean  plenty  too. 

It  had  been  quite  a  blow  to  find  out  that 
Bud  Kramer  had  her  dated  up  that  very  first 
week  end  for  the  Junior  Prom.  I  could  see 
real  easy  that  old  Bud  and  I  just  plain 
weren't  gonna  get  along  very  well  after  that. 
But  anyhow,  I  guess  I'll  never  forget  that 
evening. 

In  the  soft  blue  light  of  the  school  audi- 
torium, her  hair  looked  like  it  was  made  of 
pure  spun  honey.  She  wore  a  frilly  blue  for- 
mal that  showed  up  against  her  hair  and  dark 
skin  like  a  real  dream.  And  Bud  really 
showed  her  off  in  his  pKjIite,  overbearing  and, 
to  me,  perfectly  disgusting  manner.  When 
her  laugh  had  bubbled  over  the  purr  of  the 
music  I  felt  my  breath  catch.  I  had  been  per- 


fectly unaware  of  the  fact  that  all  this  wh|i  ||fy{ 
Joyce  Reins,  my  date  and  in  her  opinion  n 
steady,  was  very  much  aware  of  the  object  j 
my  staring.  All  evening  long  she  talked  ai; 
babbled  like  a  leaky  faucet. 

But  her  gab  was  no  match  for  my  starir 
and  when  I  let  her  off  at  her  house  later  th 
evening,  I  hardly  even  noticed  when  she  g 
out  of  the  car  and  slammed  the  door  in  ni 
face  without  so  much  as  a  "Good  night! 
And  the  funny  thing  about  it  was  that 
hadn't  even  been  indignant  until  later,  wh( 
I  thought  about  it. 

Bud  and  Kitty  had  gone  together  f| 
exactly  three  weeks,  and  during  that  time  I 
been  walking  around  like  a  bug  on  a  h 
stove.  I  couldn't  for  the  life  of  me  see  he  j 
she  stood  him.  Then  one  night  at  the  dru|J 
store,  it  was  over.  Or  so  I  thought,  anywa 

We  were  all  sitting  in  the  large  round  boo 
in  the  corner,  sipping  Cokes,  chewing  stra^ 
and  talking  cars.  As  usual.  Bud  did  most 
the  talking.  Kitty  was  sitting  beside  hi 
silently  wishing,  I  imagined,  for  him  to  shi 
up  a  while.  But  on  he  went.  I  was  waiting  f 
more  self-prais6  from  him  and  was  hard 
ready  when  he  threw  the  question  my  wa 

"Jerry,  how's  your  rod  coming?" 

When  I  looked  up  to  answer  him  I  caugl 
the  new  Bud's  "special  grin"  on  his  fac 
Bud  had  a  special  grin  for  almost  everythin 
I  guess.  I  knew,  from  past  painful  experienc 
that  this  innocent-appearing  remark  cou 
lead  to  snickering  ridicule  at  my  expeng 
If  I  wasn't  careful,  of  course. 


Ihh'iit  iiHil:  nirrli  (liiii'riinr  ul  Miihiunn  Slittr  l-'utr 


Governor  Presents  Blue  Ribbons 
to  Prize-Winning  Cook 


Jeans  them  out  — 
iien  rinses  clean ! 

It's  amazing!  —  the  way 
TUFFY  does  the  messiest  dish- 
washing jobs,  yet  never  holds 
scraps . . .  never  smells  or  turns 
sour . . .  because  it's  plastic  and 
it  rinses  clean!  And  TUFFY  is 
gentle . . .  safe  for  washing  your 
finest  china  and  silver... kind  to 
hands  and  manicures. 


never  stains  •  never  smells 
never  scratches 


U.S.  PAT.  NO.  2.601,771 


©THE  S.O.S.  CO..  CHICAGO)  TUFFY  OF  CANADA,  LTD.,  TORONTO 


"Oh,  it's  coming  O.K.,  I  nucss.  Noiliiiiv, 
super  yet,  tliout^li." 

Hud's  uriu  turned  into  a  nasty  sneer.  "I'll 
bet  that's  a  su|ht  ruhtier  band  you  wind  it 
with,"  he  said.  I.au^^hier  rani;  in  niy  bin.  red 
cars.  Hut  I  controlled  the  hasty  answer  that 
llie  old  lein|)er  tried  to  llin«  out  of  my 
inoulli.  Then  he  s|)oke  attain.  "Or  is  your  old 
Mian  ^!oill^!  to  push  you  with  thai  Mo<lel  T 
lypewriier  of  his?"  Laughter  ixunm.  this 
titiie  louder. 

Out  of  the  corner  of  iny  eye,  I  noticed  the 
frown  on  Kitty's  face.  Maybe  I  still  had  one 
fiicud,  anyhow.  I  six)ke  slowly.  "Hud.  why 
don't  you  let  me  alone?"  1  tried  to  make  it 
come  out  casual,  but  my  voice  s<junded 
rallied. 

Hud  ^;rinned  aKain,  "Why  don't  I  let  you 
.ilone?  Why  (k)esn't  a  do«  let  his  (leas 

.ilonc?  " 

All  Ihe  kids  lau^^iled  some  more.  My  s<'lf- 
imposed  armor  of  beinn  noble  was  (^etlinK 
pi  ft  I  y  darn  thin,  .lust  one  more  crack  was 
aboul  all  I  (inured  my  bruised  pride  wouUI 
allow  me  lo  lake.  Hud  had  |)icked  on  me  be- 
fore, but  he  was  Koinn  just  a  mite  t(X)  far  this 
lime.  Kvery  lime  Hud  opened  his  trap  it  was 
like  siuiuK  on  an  oix'u  tx).\  of  thumbtacks. 
Willi  me  doinn  the  sitlinn. 

Then  out  of  the  lau^^hter,  I  realized  thai 
Kitty  hadn't  been  launhinK.  She  kwked  at 
Hud  and  spoke  slowly.  "Golly,  Hud,  let  him 
alone,  will  you?" 

didn't  even  l(x)k  at  her.  Lately,  Hud 
would  do  anything  for  a  lauKh,  as  lon^  as  it 
was  on  someone  else.  A  lot  of  the  Kann  was 
netlinfT  tired  of  it.  It  was  like  Hud  had  k)sl 
confidence  in  himself  after  his  old  man  n»l 
all  that  dou^h  and  now  he  couldn't  relax.  So, 
hlunderinKly,  I  tried  lo  change  the  subject. 

"How's  your  car  coming;,  Hud?"  I  knew 
darn  good  and  well  that  remark  sounded 
innocent  enough.  And  it  was  meant  to  be. 
Hut  as  usual,  I  had  underrated  Hud's  corny 
sense  of  humor.  His  voice  cracked  like  a  whip. 

"It  passed  your  heap  aboul  two  weeks 
ago."  Bud  joined  in  the  yack. 

I  fell  the  anger  start  cold  in  the  pit  of  my 
stomach.  It  was  that  same  cold  anger  like 
when  I  was  on  the  school  bo.xing  team,  and 
got  fouled  in  the  ring.  Real  slow,  like  an 
icicle  freezing  on  the  edge  of  a  roof.  When  I 
spoke  finally,  I  l(X)k  pride  in  knowing  that 
my  voice  for  the  first  time  that  night  was  low 
and  steady. 

"Are  your  fists  as  quick  as  your  mouth. 
Bud?" 

The  laughter  cut  out  right  then.  Bud  just 
sat  there  and  stared  at  me.  It  was  the  first 
time  1  had  ever  said  anything  like  that  to 
him.  I  was  smaller  than  Bud,  but  I  was  a 
trained  boxer,  and  Bud  knew  it.  And  I 
figured  I  could  lick  him,  too,  if  I  had  to.  I 
guess  he  figured  pretty  much  the  same  way, 
because  when  he  got  around  to  answering 
me,  his  voice  sounded  almost  wormlike. 

"You're  just  trying  to  make  up  for  that 
junk-heap  car  of  yours  by  getting  tough." 
And  that  was  the  last  straw.  I  was  so  mad  I 
just  shook  all  over.  My  voice  came  out  in  a 
dull  rasp,  but  I  made  sure  he  understood 
every  word. 

"Bud,  I'll  race  you  anywhere,  any  time. 
And  I'll  darn  well  beat  you  too.  So  you  name 
it."  I  tried  to  make  what  mom  called  my 
"  baby  face  "look  real  mean.  Bud  smiled  then. 

"Next  Friday  morning,  Jerry.  We'll  start 
from  Jenk's  Point,  and  wind  up  around  the 
circle.  O.K.?" 

All  eyes  were  on  yours  truly.  "O.K.,"  I 
said. 

"The  "circle"  was  not  really  a  circle,  but 
more  of  a  square.  It  started  from  Jenk's 
Point  on  the  highway,  down  Wilson  Road, 
then  left  along  the  section  line.  Then  left 
again  up  Lane  Street  where  it  met  the 
highway  three  and  a  half  miles  from  Jenk's 
Point.  It  had  been  named  "the  circle  "  by  the 
kids  who  threw  their  cars  around  it  in  laugh- 
ing handshakes  with  the  old  grim  reaper.  It 
was  nothing  but  a  race  track. 

I  looked  at  Bud.  And  for  a  minute  I  almost 
wished  I  hadn't  been  so  quick  to  get  hot 
under  the  collar.  Then  I  stood  up  and 
walked  toward  the  door.  I  almost  started 
back  when  I  heard  the  yack  break  out  again, 
but  I  didn't.  Next  Friday  would  be  my  day— 


fjovonior  Cm.  Mfiiiien  W'illiaiiis  of 

Micliitiaii  presents  t  wo  toj)  cooking 
award.s  to  Mrs.  Walter  Fjorostad. 
Mrs.  Fjerostad  won  those;  ribhon.s 
for  the  special  di.she.s  she;  entcn.'d 
in  State  Fair  cookinK  competition 
.  .  .  they  established  her  as  one  of 
Michigan's  leading  cooks. 

Mrs.  Fjerestad  was  thrilled  to 
place  among  the  top  winners  and 
receive  her  awards  from  the  Gover- 
nor himself  .  .  .  and  like  .so  many 
top  cooks  she  gives  a  lot  of  credit 
to  Fleischmann's  Active  Dry  Yeast. 
"It's  absolutely  dependable."  she 


says.  "And  the  most  convenient 
yeast  I've  rfvcr  aswi." 

SIKIO  prize-winning  rooks  have 
lx;en  asked  what  yeast  they  like 
best— and  97',;  prefer  Fleisch- 
mann's Active  Dry  Yea«t.  They 
like  the  way  it  stays  fresh  for 
montlis,  keeps  on  the  pantry  shelf. 
They  say  it's  .so  much  more  con- 
venient than  old-.style  peri.shable 
cake  yeast.  Now  when  you  bake  at 
home,  it's  ea^^  u.s<!  yeast.  But 
u.se  the  best  .  .  .  look  for  the  label 
and  be  sure  you  get  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast. 


Now  in  a 


IMPROVED!  I^Qui 
ECONOMICAL!  RE-USABLE!^ 

The  same  rich,  hearty 
flavor  in  a  new  handy  jar. 

Yes,  use  Herb-Ox  to  add  nourishment,  flavor  and  appetite 
appeal  to  soups,  gravies  and  budget  dishes  .  .  .  and  then 
re-use  the  container  in  myriad  ways. 

•  Herb-Ox  handy  plastic  jar  contains  12  bouillon 
cubes. 

Take  them  on  picnics  for  salt,  sugar,  spreads. 

•  Handy  in  a  man's  workshop  for  nails,  brads  and 
screws. 

Use  them  in  your  sewing  cabinet  for  pinS/ 
buttons,  needles. 

The  Pure  Food  Company,  Inc. 

Mamoroneck,  N.  Y. 

Also  available  now  in  SO  and  100  cube  plastic  jars  — ideal  for  I'eebcx  re-use. 


deftr^e  ionMng  special 


M  made  wHh  ^Vonte jelly 


"'■k  »  fori.  Add  f  i  I"'"  be„ Toft  i 

I'llLK.  i\ow  rr,mU-  °°   IJcarer  unril   fl  rr 

nng  and  colorfui'.opp^;^      ^  ^"-c 


ure^'Succes^  cherry  pie! 

■  sparkling  cherry  pie,  with  fresh,  bright 
or  and  richly  glazed  consistency,  use  Min- 
Tapioca  for  a  sure-success  thickener. 

-or  all  berry  or  fruit  pie  fillings,  use  Minute 
pioca  instead  of  cornstarch  (the  same 
ount).  If  the  recipe  calls  for  flour,  use 
;htly  less  tapioca  instead. 


BRAtJP 


\  product  of  General  Foods 


RiltOF 


if  I  was  lucky.  Still,  I  didn't  cool  off  until  I  felt 
the  soft  spring  rain  splash  in  my  face  outside, 
and  realized  that  if  I  didn't  beat  Bud  I'd  have 
to  leave  the  gang.  And  way  down  inside  me, 
that  realization  sorta  hurt.  To  no  longer  be  a 
member  of  your  crowd  was  about  the  worst 
thing  that  could  happen  to  you.  No  more 
parties,  no  more  hay  rides,  no  more  crowd 
dances,  no  more  friends,  no  more  nothing. 
And  there  wasn't  one  cotton-pickin'  thing  I 
could  do  about  it  now.  For  one  of  the  first 
times  in  my  eighteen  years,  I  really  fell  low. 
Me,  Jerry  Shane.  A  lone  bone.  No  nothin'! 

I  was  so  tied  up  with  my  troubles,  I  hardly 
realized  someone  was  walking  beside  me  in 
the  soft  rain.  Someone  who  said  "Hi"  in  a 
voice  that  kinda  tinkled,  and  who  smelled 
good  even  in  the  rain.  Someone  who  was 
almost  a  foot  shorter  than  me,  and  who  was 
named  Kitty  Kamber. 

"He  makes  me  so  mad  sometimes,"  she 
said,  and  that  explained  plenty.  To  me,  any- 
how. 

While  I  walked  her  home,  we  talked  about 
a  lot  of  things.  About  the  gang,  and  school, 
but  mostly  about  Bud.  I  guess  I  was  sorta 
bitter  about  him.  And  I  said  so  too. 

Kilty  agreed  with  me.  She  had  had  enough 
of  Bud,  too,  for  a  while  anyhow.  And  when  L 
finally  left  her  at  her  door,  I  was  suddenly 
about  the  happiest  I  had  been  in  a  long  time. 
Because  now  I  figured  maybe  Kitty  was  on 
my  side.  And  together,  we  could  lick  Ihe 
world.  Or  so  I  thought. 

After  that.  Kilty  and  I  were  together 
plenty.  I  loved  to  hear  her  talk  about  most 
anything,  and  I  loved  to  be  with  her.  Often 
for  long  hours  in  the  evening  after  I  got  ofT 
work  at  the  grocery  store,  we  would  walk 
down  the  town  streets,  and  pretend  that 
someday  we  might  even  be  married.  But 
somehow,  she  sorta  shied  away  from  saying 
anything  about  Bud.  And  something  inside 
told  me  to  be  careful. 

But  darn  it,  I  just  couldn't  help  the  way  I 
went  for  her.  Mom  said  that  it  was  just 
puppy  love,  and  laughed  softly.  But  there 
was  something  in  the  way  she  patted  me  on 
the  shoulder,  and  her  wise,  knowing  eyes  told 
me  that  she  understood.  For  one  whole  week, 
I  lived  the  life  of  a  real  king. 

But  there  were  two  shadows  in  my  world 
of  light.  One  was  something  that  I  really 
couldn't  see  very  clear,  something  about 
Kilty.  The  other  was  the  race.  Still,  Kitty 
was  counting  big  on  it,  and  my  car  was 
almost  finished.  And  tomorrow  was  the  day. 

All  during  the  evening,  and  when  we 
reached  her  house  later.  Kilty  talked  of 
nothing  except  how  it  would  be  after  I  had 
beaten  Bud  in  the  race  tomorrow.  She  was  so 
darn  sure.  I  wished  like  heck  I  could  borrow 
some  of  her  sureness. 

We  used  dad's  car  as  usual,  and  when  we 
finally  dallied  up  to  her  steps  from  the  street. 


she  changed  the  subject.  Her  voice  got  sorta 
soft  and  dreamy,  and  she  spoke  almost  in  a 
whisper. 

"Jerry,  I've  had  so  much  fun  with  you.  If 
I've  never  told  you  so  before,  let  me  do  it 
now.  Oh,  Jerry,  I  have!" 

And  then,  for  the  first  time,  I  kissed  her. 
Easy  at  first,  then  a  little  harder.  I  guess  I 
couldn't  have  said  anything  right  then  if  I'd 
wanted  to.  But  I  just  couldn't  settle  what 
she  said  in  my  mind.  It  made  me  feel  like  a 
has-been.  Washed  out,  or  something.  Then 
she  spoke  again. 

"Jerry,  you've  just  got  to  beat  Bud  to- 
morrow. I've  told  all  of  my  friends,  and  they 
know  you  can  do  it.  Oh,  Jerry,  then  you  can 
hold  your  head  up  again.  Don't  you  see?" 
She  stopped  and  looked  at  me. 

Yeh,  I  saw.  I  saw  that  I  had  to  beat  Bud 
or  else.  Or  else  I  could  just  count  myself  out 
from  then  on.  But  still,  something  wasn't 
right  somewhere.  Darn,  I  hated  myself  for  it, 
but  I  just  wasn't  sure  of  Kitty.  Maybe  that 
was  it.  Or  maybe  it  was  what  Mr.  Hendricks 
had  said  at  the  store  today.  It  just  could  be. 

I  always  had  a  heck  of  a  lot  of  respect  for 
Mr.  Hendricks.  He  was  close  to  sixty-five 
years  old,  and  his  square-rimmed  glasses  and 
his  ancient  clothes  told  me  of  an  age  long  K 
ago.  His  weather-beaten  face  was  kind  and 
gentle,  and  his  actions  showed  a  wisdom  that  , 
you  just  don't  find  loo  often  nowadays.  He 
was  a  good  old  boy  loo.  Good  to  everybody.  ■ 

And  today,  his  usually  bright  and  cheery 
voice  had  a  touch  of  sadness  in  it  when  he 
spoke. 

"Jerry,  I  heard  what  you  are  going  to  dolj 
tomorrow."  He  stopped  pushing  the  broom 
around  behind  the  worn  counter.  Then  went 
on.  "  You're  a  good  boy,  Jerry.  And  someday  I 
you'll  make  a  fine  man.  But  not  if  you  get 
yourself  killed."  He  slopped  again  as  a  far- 
away look  came  into  his  eyes.  "You  know 
what  that  would  do  to  your  parents,  Jerry," 
he  said  gently. 

Yeh.  I  knew.  I  knew,  too,  why  Mr.  Hen- 
dricks was  talking  to  me  like  this.  He  had 
never  been  the  same  since  about  a  year  ago 
when  his  only  son  and  daughter-in-law  were 
both  killed  in  a  car  crash.  Not  so  long  ago 
either. 

He  went  on  again.  "They  want  you  to  be 
a  doctor  someday,  you  know.  They're  mighty 
fine  people,  Jerry.  I'd  sure  hate  to  see  them 
disappointed,"  and  only  then  had  his  frail 
voice  trailed  off  into  silence  and  memory. 

Somehow,  my  heart  had  gone  out  to  Mr. 
Hendricks.  He's  seen  a  lot  of  life,  and  he 
knew  many  things.  His  face  was  almost  in- 
credibly wise.  And  what  he  said  was  wise, 
too,  and  I  knew  it.  Nuts. 

Maybe  that  was  it. 

Or  maybe  it  was  what  Trooper  Holden 
said  that  day  when  he  stopped  Ron  Hawks 
and  me  out  by  Jenk's  Point.  We'd  been  clip- 


Mi: 

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BEST  YOU  EVER 
«TE  •  ALWAYS 

riME 

POPS  .  TENDER 
DELICIOUS. 

nerica's  Favorite  Gravy  Maker 


meat  extract) 


makes  delicious 
FRENCH  ONION  SOUP 

!-ightly  brown  3  medium-sized 
;liced  onions  in  2  tbsp.  butter  or 
nargarine.  Add  3  tsp.  Wilson's  B-V 
nixed  in  4  cups  hot  water.  Simmer 
ibout  15  minutes.*  Season.  Top 
vith  toast  and  grated  cheese.  A 
leiicious  soup  that  is  nourishing, 
^mple  for  four. 

Or  Vi  cup  dehydrated  onions,  in  which  case 
immer  20  minutes. 


REE  BOOK 

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ipes.  Address  B-V, 
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00  South  Ashland 
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lois.  Dept.  B-V. 


piiiK  aloiiK  (|uiU:  a  ratf,  and  I  v,wss  lied 
lollowfd  us  for  alxtiil  a  mile.  He  made  us  nei 
'nil  of  lh(!  car  wlii-ii  lie  finally  slo|)|)ed  us.  II. 
poiiiicd  lo  the  siKii  there  on  the  side  of  ili. 
road,  'riie  one  Im-1ow  the  jenk's  Point  si^n 
which  v,ii\i-  ilic  s|X'cd  liMiii  III  |,l;,ck  and 
while. 

"You  nuys  reafl?"  jiisl  like  that.  Ulunt. 
hut  really  lo  ilu-  |)oinl.  1  lolden  was  a  hi^', 
s(iuarc,  friendly  miy,  but  he  could  he  IoukIi 
t(K).  Tounii  like  the  lime  when  ihe  drunk 
picked  a  linlit  willi  him  (k)wn  on  Mam 
Slieel.  I'lenly  loiinli. 

lie  talked  lo  us  for  tniile  a  spell,  hut  he 
didn't  ^;ive  usa  ticket,  After  lhal,  !  liked  him 
Miore  llian  liefore,  Ilecause  somehow  1  could 
see  thai  wlial  he  said  made  sense.  Mayh«- 
liial  was  il, 

Ikil  whalt  vcr  ii  was,  tomorrow  was  the 
day.  And  I  had  to  do  it. 

After  I  saw  Kilty  to  liic  door  with  the 
|)romise  that  I  would  pick  her  u|)  iK-fore  the 
race  tomorrow,  I  started  home.  The  darn 
rain  had  started  aKain,  and  il  made  things 
l(K)k  sorta  C|ueer  in  the  headlinhls  of  the  car. 
I  Ruess  my  imaninalion  was  workinn  "ver- 
liine,  and  in  my  mind's  eye  I  could  see  my 
little  hea|)  missing  a  bad  turn,  rolliny  over 
and  over,  or  jumping  a  hiuh  shoulder  to  leap 
headlong  into  a  forest  of  telephone  j^oles. 
And  then  tiiere  was  Bud.  Krinnin^  while  he 
whipi)ed  past  me  to  win,  hands  down.  UkIi  ! 

Five  minutes  later.  I  tiptoed  into  my  own 
livinn  room  through  the  front  d(X)r.  I  tried  to 
be  real  (luiet,  but  as  always,  il  was  useless. 
Somehow,  I  knew  all  the  time  that  mom 
would  be  standing  there  in  the  dark,  waitiuK 
for  me.  And  she  was. 

"Jerry."  Her  voice  was  soft.  Like  always. 
Even  in  the  dark,  I  knew  she  was  just  stand- 
ing there,  looking  at  me.  Or  maybe  she  was 
looking  past  me  at  something  else.  When  she 
spoke  to  me  like  this.  I  felt  that  queer  lump 
m  my  throat,  ".lerry,  don't  race  tomorrow. 
Mr.  Hendricks  told  me  about  it  this  after- 
noon." 

That  was  all,  but  it  was  enough.  I  felt 
tight  inside.  Still,  I  l:new  she  would  never 
argue  with  me  if  I  was  determined  enough. 
I  started  up  the  stairs  before  I  answered  her. 
"Mom,  I've  got  to.  I'm  sorry."  It  seemed 
like  a  year  before  I  got  up  the  stairs  and  got 
the  door  to  my  room  closed.  This  was  going 
to  make  il  a  lot  harder.  Oh,  damn ! 

I  lay  there  in  the  dark  listening  lo  the  rain, 
and  tried  not  lo  think.  I  had  to  get  up  early 
and  gel  lhal  carburetor  on.  Before  nine 
o'clock.  Before  nine  o'clock  and  the  windup. 

Outside  Ihe  garage  next  morning,  the  mist 
was  like  a  transparent  fog.  Il  hung  in  the  elm 
trees  beside  the  house  like  an  evil  expectant 
ghost  and  puddles  of  water  stood  on  the 
driveway  and  the  street. 

I  tightened  the  last  bolt  into  the  mount  of 
the  twin  Stromberg  carbs,  and  tossed  the 
wrench  back  into  the  toolbox.  It  was  finished. 
Complete.  I  slid  behind  the  wheel,  turned  on 
the  ignition  and  hit  the  starter. 

On  the  third  try,  the  engine  came  to  life 
with  a  throaty  rumble.  It  was  a  bit  uneven 
at  first,  maybe  because  of  the  wet  weather, 
but  more  and  more  smooth  as  it  began  to 
warm  up.  When  I  climbed  out  and  adjusted 
the  carb  jets,  the  engine  got  more  and  more 
quiet.  But  when  I  finally  hit  the  accelerator, 
the  little  car  snarled  like  a  tiger.  A  wave  of 
pride  swept  over  me.  It  was  beginning  to  pay 
off.  And  maybe  later  it  would  pay  off  more. 

I  couldn't  help  thinking  about  mom.  If 
only  Mr.  Hendricks  hadn't  told  her.  And 
then  there  was  Trooper  Holden  too.  And 
dad,  who  was  always  so  careful. 

I  eased  the  car  down  the  street  slowly  at 
first.  I  didn't  think  about  the  rain  now.  First 
gear  to  second  was  smooth  as  silk.  This  was 
kind  of  surprising,  as  it  was  a  Lincoln  trans- 
mission, and  it  had  been  hard  to  get  in. 
Still,  not  a  grind  anywhere.  Then  came  the 
test. 

At  thirty  miles  per  hour  I  clutched,  shifted 
from  second  into  third  and  opened  up  the 
throttle.  The  little  heap  really  wound  up, 
splitting  the  puddles  of  water  in  the  street, 
throwing  spray.  Forty-five,  fifty-five,  sixty— 
I  began  to  ease  off— sixty-five,  I  let  her  ofT. 
The  backrap  from  the  twin  pipes  sounded 
like  a  thousand  cannons,  all  going  off  at  once. 


Boden's 

dices  of  ^em  all  J 


ym  SHARP  ^ 

PASTEURIZED  PROCESS 
AMERICAN  CHEESE 


EGGS  a  la  VERA-SHARP 


oi:„.,ei,.ruTthwiseint< 


Here's  a  new  idea  for  you  to  uy 

Ld  at  the  same  time  to  see  for 
•  •  better  Borden  s 

yourself  how  much  better  d 

\xlra-\ong  Sl.ces  are! 

::;:e^  tKr,r.oaera>c  oven 
S-F.)  until  eggs  begm  lo  set. 
NOW  cut  Borden's  Ve-a-Sharp 


pi -ice  strips  over  egg^  " 

and  this  sharp.  zipPY 

cheese  is  melted. 

Remember,only  Borden  sexTo- 

,  \^,ces-nearly  7  inches  long- 
::^;o?do\  tr.cKl..e  this  without 
patchmgandwastefuHnmrnings. 


MdhdiGf-  -foh  Sahdu/icheS 
of  evehy  size  and  shape ! 

Borden's  Slices  come  in  a  half-pound  pack- 
age of  four  extra-long  slices,  packed  flat. 
They  can  be  cut  to  any  length  you  wish  .  .  . 
short,  long,  or  in-between  . .  .  for  the  easiest 
sandwich-making  ever! 


WOW 

A  vaKe+y 

of 
Bordeh's 
slices/ 


Uhused  f)oi-t[on  siays  wrapped! 

After  you  cot  the  amount  you  need,  the 
unused  portion  stays  tightly  wrapped.  Slices 
don't  dry  out.  And  they  separate  easily  at 
the  cut  edge.  Only  Borden's  extra-long  Slices 
offer  you  these  extra  advantages. 


Loofc-G(--fKGtyiih 

-fhe  dairy  case  of 
youc  favorite  5fc)fe 


T  hp  Borden  Company 


BoRDENS  FINE  CHE^BS 

Tbiks  wSo  khow  cheese  say  'feordeh's  pfeasei'^ 


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machine-gun  style.  And  it  was  a  thrill  I'll 
never  forget. 

Two  guys  standing  in  front  of  the  corner 
drugstore  stared  at  me  bug-eyed.  I  barely 
had  time  to  catch  their  expressions  before  I 
was  past.  Musingly,  I  thought  it  was  too 
bad  one  of  those  fellows  couldn't  have  been 
Bud. 

Five  minutes  later,  Kitty  and  I  were 
headed  down  the  long  slick  blacktop,  toward 
Jenk's  Point  and  the  circle.  The  rain  was 
heavier  out  here  than  it  was  in  town.  I 
couldn't  help  noticing  how  quiet  Kitty  was. 
She  didn't  seem  excited  this  morning  as  she 
was  last  night.  I  figured  maybe  she  didn't 
feel  so  well. 

My  watch  read  eight-forty-five.  The  rain 
had  slacked  to  a  drizzle  now,  but  the  long 
black-topped  highway  glistened  like  a  stream 
of  water  rather  than  a  ribbon  of  tough  hard 
roadway. 

We  were  about  two  miles  from  Jenk's 
Point,  but  it  was  slick  and  I  took  it  easy.  I 
had  plenty  of  time,  and  darn  it,  I  just  wasn't 
sure.  I  knew  the  whole  gang  would  be  there, 
even  in  the  drizzle,  just  to  see  old  Jerry 
Shane  prove  his  salt.  Or  disprove  it.  This  one 
they  wouldn't  miss.  But  I  kept  thinking 
about  mom  standing  there  last  night,  and 
her  words  still  ran  around  inside  me  softly. 

"Jerry,  don't  race  tomorrow." 

Kitty's  silence  was  getting  on  my  nerves. 
When  I  tried  to  make  with  the  talk,  she 
would  just  nod,  or  pass  on  with  some  one- 
word  answer,  so  I  finally  gave  up.  But  I 
wished  she  would  talk.  Maybe  it  would  help 
me  keep  from  thinking  about  Mr.  Hendricks. 

"  Your  folks  want  you  to  be  a  doctor  some- 
day .  .  .  mighty  fine  people." 

Ahead  of  us,  I  could  see  the  crowd  of  cars, 
and  then  the  people  standing  in  the  wet 
weeds  on  both  sides  of  the  highway.  All  in 
little  groups,  talking.  There  on  the  right  was 
Bud's  car,  with  a  piece  of  canvas  over  the 
engine.  And  Bud  standing  there,  looking  at 
his  watch. 

All  eyes  were  on  my  car  when  I  pulled  to 
a  stop  on  the  left  of  the  road.  When  I  cut 
the  engine  I  realized  that  the  talking  had 
stopped. 

I  looked  ai  the  crowd  around  me,  and  then 
at  Bud.  The  crowd  that  had  come  to  see  a 
windup.  Kids  that  had  come  to  see  the  soul 
driven  out  of  two  cars.  Kids  who  would  be 
my  friends  afterward.  Maybe. 

Directly  above  Bud's  car  on  the  little 
mound  was  the  sign  saying  this  was  surely 
"Jenk's  Point."  But  I  wasn't  looking  at  that 
sign.  It  was  the  one  under  it  that  I  couldn't 
take  my  eyes  off.  The  little  one  printed  in 
black  and  white  that  read:  Speed  Limit  65, 
Night  55.  And  I  remembered  when  I'd  been 
here  before,  almost  in  this  exact  spot.  Except 
then  I  was  standing,  looking  up  at  the  sign. 
And  a  big  guy  in  trooper's  uniform  was  say- 
ing, "You  guys  read?"  blunt,  just  like  that. 
And  in  a  flash  I  was  sure. 

As  I  spoke,  I  watched  Kitty  closely, 
realizing  that  this  would  probably  be  the  last 
time  I  would  look  at  her  with  that  old  feeling 
of  possession.  "I'm  not  going  to  race  Bud," 
I  said.  There,  it  was  out.  And  only  stunned 
silence  met  my  words.  Silence,  but  only  for 
an  instant.  Kitty  spoke  with  a  surprised  edge 
to  her  voice. 

"Jerry !  Do  you  mean  you  really  aren't  " 

I  cut  her  short.  "Yes,"  I  said  too  loudly. 
"  I'm  not  going  to  race  him.  That's  all."  Al- 
most before  I  was  finished,  she  was  out  of  the 
car. 

For  an  instant,  then,  I  regretted  what  I'd 
done.  It  was  hard  to  lose  Kitty,  a  lot  harder 
than  I'd  thought  it  would  be.  But  I  knew  now 
that  it  had  really  been  Bud  all  along,  and  I 
had  just  been  a  handy  sucker  she'd  used  to 
teach  him  a  lesson.  It  hurt  like  everything. 

"Kitty   "  I  started,  then  stopped. 

What  was  the  use?  Already  I  could  hear 
whispers  of "  yellow  "  and  "  chicken  "  coming 
my  way.  Old  chicken  Shane.  Jerry's  yellow, 
clear  through.  Everybody  except  Bud.  He 
just  stood  there  with  a  grin  on  his  face.  That 
same  old  "Bud's  special  grin."  Special  for 
cowards. 

Then  I  was  turning  the  car  around  and 
starting  back.  I  knew  this  was  the  end,  the 
finish  for  me,  but  good.  The  end  of  any  pride 


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I    "    I     II    \    \  I 


had  li  ll,  llic  cikI  of  any  Irii'iulsliii)  and  n  - 
>ect  I  had  in  Ihc  old  crowd,  the  liriish, 
sriod.  And  even  I  lie  old  foclinK  for  speed 
as  none. 

The  niisl  fell  cold  on  niy  face.  In  the  seat 

side  nie,  I  noliced  Killy's  !)illfold.  I  won- 
•red  if  I  would  have  tiie  nerve  lo  return  it. 
laylx'  someday  I  could  forget  the  whole 
less.  Maybe  someday  the  K'ani!  would  for- 
;l  it  t(X).  Hut  not  now.  Or  for  a  lon^^  time. 

One  by  one,  the  kids  I  used  to  call  niy 
lends  passed  me  in  their  cars.  Tom  and 
nn.  .lack  Niel  and  Nola  Winters,  Hill  and 
ickie  Weston,  each  sounding  liu'ir  horn  m 
H' short  blast  like  maybe  it  was  my  funeral 
•somelhint;.  .'Xiui  I  couldn't  help  those  darn 
upid  tears  while  1  ^;ritted  my  teeth  and 
aited  for  tlu'  moment  when  Hud  would  p;iss 
itli  Kilty  Ix'side  him.  I  fell  liki'  a  si.\-\cai- 
Id,  but  somehow  1  just  didn't  care  any  more. 

Heiiind  me,  1  heard  tiie  roar  of  Hud's  car 
Miiin^'  over  the  hill  fast,  .lust  another 
•cond  now,  and  then 

1  liiiured  he'd  k<>  p;ist  me  and  not  i  vi  ii 
)<)k.  And  suddenly  I  realized  dilTereiii. 

Hud  slowed  to  hold  a  i)osition  ri^'ht  beside 
le.  I  knew  sometiiinu  was  comini;  now,  and 

Kot  tense  all  over.  Then  Hud  fanned  his 
.lieel,  and  his  car  weaved  daiiirerously  close 

0  me,  then  back  out  a^;ain.  The  whine  of  iiis 
ires  on  the  wet  pavement  rose  eerily  and  I 
L'rked  my  wheel  to  prevent  a  collision. 

I  heard  his  yell  aliove  the  roar  of  the 
nuines.  "Race  me,  chicken!"  The  t|uick 
old  anuer  t lightened  up  and  down  my  spine, 
f  that  crazy  l(X)l  IhouKht 

Hud  was  iiourint;  on  the  power  now,  and 
lis  little  car  jumijed  forward  atjain.  the  tires 
creaming  shrilly.  Under 
Lill  throttle  Hud  roared 
lasl,  whip|)inu:  back  in 
head  of  iiu'.  Then  it  hai)- 
icned. 

He'd  gone  loo  far  and 
ven  as  I  watched  with 
ly  mouth  open,  his  rinhl 
■onl  lire  snapped  com- 
lelely  off  the  slick  pave- 
lenl  onto  the  sofl  slioulder.  I  stared  in  dis- 
eiief  as  Bud's  rod  left  the  road  crazily  and 
)oped  completely  over  in  the  ditch. 

The  echo  of  Killy's  scream  went  lhr()U','h 
le  like  a  sharp  slab  as  my  fool  stamped  on 
le  brake  pedal.  One  lone  wheel  from  the 
lattered  car  in  the  dilch  spun  upward 
nd  raced  down  the  highway.  For  a  momenl 
could  do  nt)thing  but  watch  it  stupidly,  ihe 
orror  coming  now  to  almost  i^aralyze  nie. 

It  was  more  like  a  dream  than  anything 
Ise  when  I  finally  forced  myself  to  get  out  of 
le  car  and  go  toward  the  wreck.  The  re- 
laining  three  wheels  spun  sk)wly,  evenly, 
le  wet  treads  glistening.  I  went  toward  it, 
fraid  of  what  I  might  see. 

Kitty  had  been  thrown  clear.  She  was 
anding  now  in  the  muddy  water,  sobbing 
)flly.  She  looked  scratched  up  some,  but 
3l  hurt.  I  forced  myself  to  look  around  the 
less  for  Bud.  I  spotted  him  then,  lying  half- 
ay  under  the  car.  I  moved  toward  his  still 
)rm,  trying  not  to  look  at  the  red  wetness 
hile  I  groped  for  his  shoulders  and  pulled 
im  free.  And  only  then  did  I  think  I  was 
)ing  to  faint. 

^NE  arm  hung  limply,  the  red  stuff  coming 

1  regular  little  spurts  from  the  jagged  cut. 
came  with  each  beating  of  his  heart  and  I 

new  an  artery  had  been  cut.  I  got  dizzy  as 
1  heck,  but  I  swallowed  hard  and  looked 
•ound  desperately  for  something  to  stop  the 
leading.  Kitty  was  behind  me  now,  walch- 
ig.  She  was  mud  from  head  to  toe,  but  I 
Dped  like  everything  that  was  all. 
I  jerked  off  my  belt  and  pulled  it  light 
"ound  the  upper  part  of  Bud's  arm.  That 
:lped  some.  But  1  knew  it  wasn't  enough, 
id  as  I  dragged  Bud  toward  my  car  I  won- 
;red  if  I  could  get  help  in  time.  It  was  so 
jrn  much  like  a  nightmare,  like  I  had  a  lot 
hen  I  was  a  kid. 

I  got  Bud  into  the  car  with  Kitty  to  sup- 
3rt  him,  and  reached  over  to  tighten  up 
le  belt  some  more.  But  it  just  wouldn't 
op.  Not  much  time.  And  if  I  took  too 
uch  Bud  was  going  to  die. 

My  knees  banged  together  like  a  set  of 
ap  drums  when  I  finally  got  the  car  started 


A  sleeping  fox  counts  hens 
in  his  dreams. 

—  RUSSIAN  PROVERB 


down  I  he  shck  wet  roafi  again.  !  kne«  m„u 
that  my  work  on  the  car  was  going  lo  pay  off 
in  a  dillerent  way.  And  if  ii  didn't 

The  ram  had  sloppefl,  but  the  cold  wind 
screamed  like  a  banshee.  S-veniy,  neventy- 
five.  eighty  slow  it  a  little  for  llial  curve, 
now  a  straightaway  into  town  come  on. 
baby,  wind  up! 

The  line  of  cars  that  meant  the  gang  came 
(|uickly  into  view.  And  one  by  one  I  |)asst.-d 
them  as  though  they  weren't  moving  at  all, 
almost  as  though  they  were  running  back- 
w.ird. 

I  never  went  throiik..h  town  that  fast  bc- 
lore.  The  blocks  were  Hashing  by  like  fence- 
|X)sls.  As  I  zigzagged  down  Mam  Street, 
IM'ople  scatlercfl  like  bugs  with  DDT  afUr 

I  hem. 

S)mewl)ere  bchmtl  me,  tlu'  wail  rjf  a 
lK)lice  siren  sounded,  IhiI  it  was  lost  in  tlu- 
din  of  screeching  indignant  ix'ople  and  the 
snarling  roar  of  my  car. 

At  the  end  of  the  street,  the  hospital 
loomed  like  a  guardian  angel.  Hud  Kramer's 
guardian  angel.  I  glanced  at  Hud's  pasty- 
white  face,  and  for  a  secoiul  was  afraid  I 
was  t(K)  late,  lie  looked  almost  dead  or 
something. 

I  didn't  t)olher  alxnit  the  curb,  I  jusi 
jumped  It  and  pulled  to  a  slop  as  close  lo  llu 
steps  of  the  building  as  I  could  gel.  And  al- 
most before  I  could  cut  myengine,  the  polict 
car  screeched  lo  a  stop  beside  me,  and 
Trooper  Ilolden  piled  out,  his  face  angry. 

"What  the  devil    -    "  he  started,  then 
sto|)ped  when  he  saw  what  I  had  in  the  car. 
And  without  a  word,  he  hel|)ed  me  lift  the 
unconscious  Hud,  and  we 
made  for  the  steps  in  a 
heck  of  a  hurry. 

There  was  a  nurse  who 
seemed  lo  ix)p  out  of  no- 
where and  start  giving  or- 
ders like  an  Army  sergeant. 
Two  guys  dressed  in  white 
brought  a  stretcher,  and 
we  got  Hud  on  it.  Then 
Ilolden  went  back  and  brought  Kitty  in. 
The  two  of  them  followed  the  nurse  down 
the  hall,  leaving  me  in  the  wailing  nxHii. 

I  tried  sitting  down,  but  thai  didn't  work 
so  well.  So  I  paced  around  in  a  circle  and  bit 
at  my  fingernails  for  something  to  do.  My 
darn  knees  were  still  banging  and  I  shook 
like  everything  now.  My  teeth  even  chat- 
tered some. 

It  really  didn't  seem  like  any  time  at  all 
before  mom  and  dad  were  there.  There  were 
tears  in  mom's  eyes  when  she  hugged  me,  and 
the  proud  look  on  dad's  face  made  me  feel 
good  all  over.  Someone  said  Bud  was  going 
to  be  O.K.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kramer  came  in 
then,  and  Mrs.  Kramer  hugged  me  too.  I  felt 
plenty  sorry  for  Hud's  folks.  They  seemed 
like  real  nice  people  after  all.  And  the  smile 
on  Trooper  Holden's  face  split  him  almost 
from  ear  to  ear  when  he  slapped  his  hand 
down  on  my  shoulder. 

"Don't  reckon  you  deserve  a  ticket  after 
all,  Jerry,"  and  his  eyes  twinkled  at  me.  And 
right  then,  I  felt  O.K.  about  the  whole  thing. 

Later  at  home,  when  the  telephone  rang, 
I  just  sat  there  on  the  sofa  almost  too  tired  to 
move,  and  finally  mom  came  from  the 
kitchen  to  answer  it.  Then  she  called  me.  I 
stood  up  slowly  and  stretched  myself  and 
headed  for  the  phone.  I  got  the  receiver  up  to 
my  ear.  "Hello." 

"Jerry,  this  is  Kilty." 
I  stood  waiting  for  that  old  feeling,  but 
nothing  happened.  "Hi,"  I  said. 

"Jerry,  can  you  come  over?"  she  asked 
then. 

I  stood,  still  wailing  for  that  old  feeling, 
but  it  didn't  come  and  suddenly  I  knew  it 
wasn't  going  to.  I  stood  there  awhile  sur- 
prised that  I  felt  nothing.  Then  without  wait- 
ing for  anything  else,  I  quietly  replaced  the 
receiver  on  the  hook. 

Outside  the  window,  a  tree  moved  in  the 
slight  wind.  I  watched  it  for  a  moment,  then 
turned  and  headed  for  the  sofa  again.  I  sat 
there  staring  out  the  window,  then  found 
myself  wondering  if  Joyce  Reins  would  con- 
sider going  to  the  Sweetheart  Dance  with  me 
next  Friday  night.  Of  course  I  knew  I'd  have 
to  ask  real  nice  and  polite.  the  end 


Hydro 

ROOKIE 


EVERVBODX  LIKES 

Sunshine  Cookies 

Your  choice  of  many  delicious  varieties...  packaged  in 
protective  cellophane.  AT  FOOD  STORES  EVERYWHERE'. 


154 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


February,  1953 


-he  dinerence 
tetweentLis... 


and 
this... 


is  often  this... 


i|  BABY  5 
I  OIL 


If  happy  play  follows  quarreling,  if  a  change  of  occupation  clears  the  air 
after  five  minutes  of  squabbling,  yours  is  an  entirely  normal  household. 


How  Much  Quarreling 
is  Normal? 

II.V  l»R.  IIKKI^IAIV  IV.  BlTlvnESEN 

Hrt'tsiileiic.  (iliicago  Bitard  of  Health 


I THINK  most  mothers  know  by  this 
time  that  a  certain  amount  of  quarreling 
among  brothers  and  sisters  is  nothing  to  be 
disturbed  about.  Indeed,  the  latest  school 
of  psychological  thought  holds  that  it  is  ac- 
tually desirable.  A  little  quarreling  in  the 
bosom  of  one's  own  family,  provided  it  is 
merely  an  outlet  for  temporary  irritation 
and  not  the  result  of  deep-lying  hostilities, 
can  be  a  safety  valve  for  any  of  us.  (Though 
husbands  and  wives  should  not  overwork 
this  particular  safely  valve!) 

Certainly  where  children  are  concerned, 
expressing  hostile  feelings  is  considered  to- 
day far  more  salutary  than  keeping  them 
bottled  up.  The  boy  or  girl  who  never  quar- 
rels with  a  brother  or  sister  may  be  building 
up  dangerous  inner  pressures  that  someday 
will  erupt  in  emotional  disorders.  So 
parents  can  afford  to  be  unconcerned,  even 
complacent,  about  normal  quarreling 
among  their  children. 

But  how  much  quarreling  is  normal? 
Usually,  I've  found,  mothers  who  complam 
that  their  children  bicker  "all  the  time" 
are  exaggerating.  Frequently  I  have  asked 
such  mothers  to  count  the  number  of  times 
their  children  have  quarreled  seriously 
each  day,  make  a  note  of  it  and  then  report 
to  me  at  the  end  of  a  week.  In  most  cases, 
that  is  the  last  I  ever  heard  about  quarrel- 
ing! 

But  parents  sometimes  are  genuinely 
concerned  about  the  frequency  and  appar- 
ent bitterness  of  their  children's  quarrels. 
Visiting  the  homes.  I  have  seen  these  pre- 
sumably aggressive  and  combative  chil- 
dren behave  like  angels.  They  were  not  dis- 
playing "company  manners,"  either.  The 
point  was  that  having  company  was  a  di- 
version that  held  the  children's  attention. 

For  one  of  the  most  common  causes  of 
quarreling  among  children  is  boredom.  If 
your  youngsters  play  or  work  together  for 
an  hour  or  more  at  a  time,  don't  be  dis- 


turbed if  these  periods  always  seem  to  end 
in  a  battle.  What  has  happened  is  simply 
that  the  game  or  project  has  palled.  The 
children's  emotions,  always  volatile,  are 
now  seeking  another  outlet.  Quarreling  in 
such  situations  is  just  another  outlet. 

Another  cause  of  quarreling  that  is  nat- 
ural and  unavoidable  is  the  competition 
for  the  love  and  attention  of  parents  that 
exists  in  almost  every  family.  In  a  sense, 
all  the  children  in  a  family  are  one  another's, 
rivals.  To  the  extent  that  one  child  wins 
the  favor  or  attention,  or  thinks  he  does, 
the  others  lose.  Resentments  are  created 
which  may  flare  up  in  connection  with  any' 
trivial,  unrelated  incident. 

"But  our  children  couldn't  be  rivals  for 
our  attention,"  mothers  have  said  to  m' 
when  I  have  been  explaining  this  phase  o 
quarreling.  "We're  very  careful  to  treat 
them  exactly  alike  and  show  no  favoritism 
in  any  way." 

Perhaps  the  parents  really  do  carry  ou" 
this  laudable  goal.  But  they  fail  to  under 
stand  how  strongly  egotistical  our  natur- 
are  in  the  beginning.  Every  child  is  bo 
thinking  he  is  the  center  of  the  universe.  I 
is  a  long,  slow  struggle  to  learn  that  other" 
may  be  just  as  wonderful  as  we  are  our- 
selves. 

Studies  of   thousands   of   children — ^^i 
not  necessarily  those  presenting  some  be- 
havior problem,  but  children  who  ar 
normal  and  well  adjusted — have  reveale 
feelings  of  fierce  rivalry  between  brothers- 
and  sisters,  and  deep  resentment  of  what 
the  child  conceives  as  advantages  held  by 
others.  Thus,  boys  frequently  feel  that 
"girls  have  all  the  best  of  it."  Girls,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  convinced  that  it  is  a  boys 
world.  It  is  only  as  we  grow  older  that  w{ 
come  to  value  our  own  special  advantages 
and  respect  those  of  others. 

But  many  parents  who  think  they  are 
impartial  in  fact  are  not.  I  have  seen  tw 


I.   A    I)    I    K    S  •       II  II 


Ml         I     I'    I      H     \     \  I 


Id  know  Curitu 
blindfold... 
tbeyVeso 

S-M-O-O-T-Hi* 


(jiYiiy. 

DIAPERS 

No  woirlfs  al)()iit  "wash  wrinkles" 
witli  Ciinty  Diapers!  They  come  out 
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hahy's  skin.  They  dry  in  a  jifiy,  too. 
\N  hat"s  more  they  resist  ra\  ehng  and, 
wall  then-  exchisive  wo\  en-in  Foi.D- 
LINKS,  even  Dad  can  fold  them  right. 
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Diapers  dry  faster. 

Wash  Easier  —  Their  open  weave 
means  t|uick-cleannig  ease  ni  Ivory 
Flakes,  Ivory  Soap  or  Dreft. 

Absorb  Fully  —  Their  thirsty,  sur- 
gical \\ea\e  soaks  up  moisture  like 
a  sponge. 

Longer  Wearing  —  Curity  Diapers 
are  made  ol  full-weight  gauze.  You'll 
find  them  at  your  favorite  infant's 
store  .  .  .  and  leading  diaper  laun- 
dries. Attractive  "dress-up"  styles 
for  gifting,  tool 


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PAT.  NO. 
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MAIL  THE  COUPON 


'  KENDALL  MILLS  —  Division  of 

^  The  Kendall  Company,  Wolpole,  Mass.,  Dept.  J23 
Enclosed  is  25c  (coins  only)  for  full-size  Curity 
y  Diaper  and  literature  on  Curity  Nursery  Products. 
(Only  one  diaper  to  o  family.) 

Name  


^  Address  - 
^  City- 


State- 


Good  in  Continental  LJnited  States  and  Hawoii. 


children  play  liapiMly  loKellier,  with  every 
evidence  of  a  txjrid  of  affection.  The  moliier, 
entering'  tlie  nxmi,  comes  to  (lie  defentie  of 
one  anainsl  ihe  oilier.  Then  there  iH  Irouble. 
When  Ihe  children  play  well  hy  themwIveH 
for  tlie  most  pari,  Init  explrxle  into  an^ry 
words  and  resentment  in  the  presence  <jf  one 
or  tx)lh  parents,  it  is  the  tip-off  that  (juarrel- 
in«  is  a  natural  comix-titive  effort  to  nam 
advantage  over  a  rival.  The  parents  mi«lit 
well  examine  their  attitudes  to  make  sure 
thai  ifiey  are  truly  fair  and  s<|iiare.  Hut  they 
need  have  no  worry  atxnil  ihe  relationship 
between  the  youngsters.  Where  parents 
uenuinely  love  all  their  children,  these  little 
folk  who  occasionally  claw  and  snarl  at  each 
other  now  will  >;row  u|)  to  Ix-  stanch  friends 
and  loving;  comrades. 

I  can  hear  some  of  you  ohji-ct  inn,  "  I  )o  you 
mean  that  we  must  just  endure  the  i)etty 
bickering  that  noes  on  amonn  our  children  at 
every  meal?"  Not  al  all.  I  believe  one  reason 
this  hapi)ens  in  so  many  homes  is  that  we 
have  none  loo  far  in  our  effort  not  lo  dom- 
inate or  repress  our  children.  The  result  is 
that  many  younn  iiarents  nenlecl  lo  im|X)se 
any  standards  of  disci|)line  or  manners.  In 
such  families  the  ciiiidren  have  no  concept 
of  liie  rinhls  and  feelinns  of  others.  They  run 
rounhshod  over  each  other  and  their  i^arents, 
interruplinn  constantly  and  meelinn  the 
slinhlesl  sinn  of  opjjosition  to  their  wishes 
with  anlanonislic  behavior. 

This  is  a  Iranic  error.  The  child  who  re- 
ceives t(K)  little  discii)line  is  as  much  a  vic- 
tim as  the  child  who  receives  l(x)  much.  Quar- 
reling at  the  family  dinner  table,  or  in  front 
of  quests,  is  frequently  the  result  of  the  par- 
ents' failure  lo  enforce  the  fundamental  rules 
of  good  manners.  This  shows  a  lack  of  con- 
sideration for  others.  You  are  entitled  to  in- 
sist that  there  be  no  quarrelinn  al  llie  family 
table  or  on  social  occasions.  As  long  as  your 
offspring  may  express  their  resentments 
freely  on  other  occasions,  these  restrictions 
will  do  them  no  harm. 

Of  course  there  are  some  children  in  whom 
the  tendency  lo  be  quarrelsome  is  a  sign  of 
deep-seated  emotional  conflicts  that  require 
serious  attention.  A  physician  should  hie  con- 
sulted in  these  cases. 

Such  a  child  was  eight-year-old  F"reddy. 
His  mother  brought  him  to  me  because,  as 
she  said,  he  quarreled  constantly  and  bit- 
terly with  his  ten-year-old  sister.  Question- 
ing and  observation  of  Freddy  soon  revealed 
that  he  fell  hostile  not  only  toward  Sally 
but  toward  his  parents,  teachers  and  play- 
mates. But  Freddy  had  learned  that  ex- 
pressions of  antagonism  toward  parents  and 
teachers  quickly  resulted  in  punishment.  So 
he  was  venting  all  his  feelings  of  hostility 
on  his  sister. 

As  it  turned  out,  Freddy's  feelings  of  in- 
security resulted  from  circumstances  that 
have  become  fairly  common  in  our  modern 
society.  The  family  had  moved  frequently, 
due  to  demands  of  the  father's  business,  forc- 
ing a  series  of  new  neighborhood  and  school 
situations  on  the  boy.  The  father  was  away 
from  home  a  great  deal,  and  thus  Freddy  had 
been  denied  many  of  the  advantages  of  a 
close,  companionable  father-son  relation- 
ship. As  much  as  anything,  we  found,  his  an- 
tagonistic behavior  w-as  an  effort  to  gain  for 
himself  some  of  the  attention  that  circum- 
stances had  denied  him.  Once  his  mother  and 
father  understood  this,  they  made  a  special 
effort  to  give  Freddy  the  attention  and  the 
feeling  of  security  he  needed.  Within  a  few 
months,  his  relations  with  Sally  had  im- 
proved to  a  point  where  only  a  normal,  occa- 
sional amount  of  quarreling  was  observed.  In 
other  cases,  marked  parental  preference  for 
one  child  has  resulted  in  lasting  and  harmful 
hostilities  in  the  others.  Such  situations  need 
to  be  rectified. 

But  let  us  say  that  in  your  family  the 
quarreling  is  intermittent,  and  there  are  pe- 
riods of  happy  play  and  good  fellowship  in 
between.  If  you  have  time  to  propose  a 
change  of  scene  or  occupation,  that  clears  the 
air.  Or  if  you  ignore  the  fuss,  the  children  are 
again  playing  happily  after  five  or  ten  min- 
utes of  letting  off  steam.  Be  happy  yourself. 
The  quarreling  in  your  home  is  entirely  nor- 
mal! THE  END 


good  crib  posture 
from  yawn  to  dawn 


For  the  firm  level  back  support  that  so  many  doctors  recommend, 
let  your  baby  sleep  on  a  POSTURIZED  KAN'TWET  crib  mattress. 
Only  POSTURIZED  KAN'TWET  has  dorsal  construction  ...  a 
built-in  foundation  for  long  lasting  extra  firmness. 

NOW  TREATED  WITH 

chlorophyll 

DEODORIZES  ON  CONTACT* 

Exclusive  formula,  developed  especially  for  coated  fabrics,  is 
applied  in  the  coating  solution  and  cannot  wash  off. 


POSTURIZED 

kantwet® 

THE  ONLY  MATTRESS 

WITH  dorsal 

construction 


*  Materially  deodorizes  on  contact  (with  occasional  exceptions  under  some  physical  conditions). 

@Rose-Den7  Co 


156  L    \    I)    I    E    S  '       H    O    M    E        r    O    U    R    N    A    L  February.  I 


'My  Skin  Thrives  On 
Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap" 


FABlLOrS  FANNY 

(Continued  from  Page  61) 


Famous  Beauty  Director 
CANDY  JONES 

(Mrs.  Harry  Conover) 


"I  love  Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap,"  says  this  well-known  beauty.  "I've 
used  it  ever  since  childhood — and  it  certainly  helped  me.  At  the  start  of 
my  career,  as  a  Cover  Girl,  I  had  to  have  a  baby-smooth,  glowing  com- 
plexion; and  today  in  beauty-advising  others,  it's  more  important  than 
ever  that  I  practice  Avhat  I  preach  and  use  Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap,  at 
least  twice  every  day." 

So  do  as  Miss  Jones  does  (and  thousands  of  other  women,  too!)  Give 
your  skin  this  gentle  Cashmere  Bouquet  care  —  for  the  softer,  smoother- 
looking  complexion  you've  alwavs  desired! 


Now  at 
Lowest  Price! 


Candy  Jones,  Director  of  the  Famous  Conover  School 
in  New  York,  Reveals  for  the  First  Time  Confidential 
Advice  From  Her  Own  Personal  Diary! 


"f.   Your  posture  suggests  your  personality  type.  Rounded 
shoulders  spotlight  laziness;  a  slouch  implies  a  sloppy 
person;  a  lowered  head  shows  lack  of  self-con- 
fidence. Perfect  posture  illusfrafes  your  Beauty,  Brains 
and  Breeding ! 

^   If  you  are  5'6"  in  your  stockings,  can  your 
measurements  compete  with   these  perfect 
ones?  Bust  34-36";  waist  24-26";  hips  34-36" ! 

No  girl  need  have  a  "complexion  complex"  if 
she  watches  her  diet,  has  plentiful  sleep,  gets  fresh 
air  and  spends  time  beautifying  her  skin  .  .  .  the 
Cashmere  Bouquet  way!  MORE  LATER, 


the  time  of  the  dress  rehearsal,  a  few  hours 
before  the  show,  and  the  show  itself.  Fanny 
would  stand  before  the  microphone  during 
the  dress,  bored  with  it  all,  reading  the  lines 
flatly,  her  eyes  wandering.  Often  she  read  a 
line  which  had  been  cut. 

"I'd  look  at  this  woman,"  Freeman  re- 
members, "seeing  this  dignified  lady  in  the 
height  of  fashion.  I 'd  watch  her  holding  her 
cards  in  her  hand,  not  knowing  what  was 
printed  on  them,  and  I'd  break  out  in  a  sweat. 
Then  I 'd  get  the  signal  from  the  engineer. 

"'AH  right,  Fanny,'  I'd  say.  'You're  on.' 

"She'd  nod  and  leave  me.  And  when  she 
went  out  there,  week  after  week,  she  was 
suddenly  a  little  baby,  clothes  and  coiffure 
and  high  heels  forgotten.  I  saw  it  happen, 
but  I  can't  tell  you  what  it  was.  She  just 
needed  an  audience  in  front  of  her  and  she 
was  trouping.  She  was  Snooks. 

"Every  week,"  he  said,  "we  wrote  a  cou- 
ple of  routines  for  each  show  and  hid  them 
within  the  general  conformation  of  the  story 
for  that  show.  Lancelot  and  Vera  Higgins— 
Baby  Snooks'  father  and  mother— were  a 
typical  American  pair.  They  lived  in  a  typi- 
cal .American  home,  had  a  typical  American 
life.  Where  they  differed,  where  they  were 
not  typical,  and  where  they  became  worthy 
of  a  weekly  biography  of  their  life,  was  in 
their  daughter.  Baby  Snooks.  She  was  as 
typical  as  a  tornado. 

"Here  is  a  show  Fanny  did,"  Freeman 
went  on.  "  In  it  Daddy  has  to  make  a  speech 
at  a  dinner.  It  is  an  important  speech  for  him. 
It  may  make  his  career.  Nothing  very  funny 
or  odd  about  that,  right? 

"  But  as  he  dresses.  Baby 
Snooks  wanders  into  iiis 
room : 


Snooks:  Hello,  Daddy. 

D,\ddy:  Snooks,  please 
don't  come  in  here  now. 

Snooks:  Why? 

D.-\DDY :  Because  I'm  try- 
ing to  rehearse  a  speech. 

Snooks:  But  I  got  a 
problem.  Daddy. 

Daddy:  For  Pete's  sake.  Snooks,  can't  you 
understand  that  this  speech  is  very  impor- 
tant to  your  daddy's  career? 

Snooks:  It  is? 

Daddy:  Yes.  In  two  hours,  I'm  gonna  be 
standing  up  at  a  banquet  table,  looking  into 
a  bunch  of  stupid  faces.  I've  got  to  get  into 
the  mood  for  that. 

Snooks:  Is  that  why  you're  rehearsing  in 
front  of  a  mirror? 

Daddy  :  That  settles  it !  Out  you  go !  Shoo ! 
Beat  it!  Well,  I  still  have  a  few  minutes 
left  — I  think  I'll  work  on  my  diction. 
I Emmciating.)  Yes,  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
we  are  gathered  here  tonight  to  (Mouths  un- 
intelligibly). 

Snooks:  What  did  you  put  in  your  mouth. 
Daddy? 

Daddy:  Towf  fowfa  foof— marbles.  See? 
Three  marbles. 

Snooks:  Are  you  hungry? 

D.\ddy:  No,  I'm  merely  doing  what  all  the 
great  orators  have  done  to  help  them  with 
their  diction.  Take  Demosthenes.  Demos- 
tiienes  practiced  speaking  with  a  mouthful  of 
marbles. 

Snooks:  I'll  bet  I  can  do  it.  Daddy. 

Daddy:  If  I  can't,  how  can  you? 

Snooks:  Lemme  try  it. 

Daddy:  All  right.  Miss  Smarty.  Here's 
some  more  marbles.  I'll  put  one  in  your 
mouth.  Now  try  reciting  something. 

Snooks:  Mary  had  a  little  lamb. 

Daddy:  Not  bad.  Here,  try  another  one. 

Snooks:  Her  father  shot  it  dead. 

Daddy:  Funny,  I  didn't  do  that  well. 
Here,  try  a  third  one. 

Snooks:  Now,  Mary  takes  that  lamb  to 
school  

Daddy:  This  is  fantastic.  Three  marbles  in 
her  mouth!  Here,  try  a  fourth. 

Snooks:  Between  two  hunks  of  bread ! 

Daddy:  Amazing!  Four  marbles  and  she 
talks  plainly. 

Snooks:  It's  easy.  Daddy. 


To  try  too  hard  to  make 
people  good  is  one  way  to 
make  them  worse;  the  only 
way  to  make  them  good  is 
to  be  good. 

—GEORGE  MACDONALO 


Daddy:  How  is  that  possible? 
Snooks:  I  swallowed  'em!* 

"She  was  just  immense,"  Freeman  sai. 
"Fanny  was  the  greatest,  absolutely  ii; 
greatest  comedian  I've  ever  seen." 

In  those  Hollywood  years  Fanny  was  id'  - 
titled  only  as  Snooks  in  the  nation's  she  - 
business  firmament.  Occasionally  a  Sund;  - 
supplement  writer  would  devote  a  page  > 
Fanny's  past:  the  Follies,  Nick,  Billy  Rc  ; 
but  to  an  entire  generation  of  Americ  a 
Fanny  Brice  was  Baby  Snooks,  the  bawli  , 
battling,  bombastic  brat  whom  they  he  i 
once  a  week  on  the  nation's  radios.  | 

Fanny's  enthusiasms,  her  intuitive,  lou .,' 
vocal  reactions  to  anyone  and  anything,  c^  - 
tinued  unabated.  Bill  remembers  escort;? 
her  to  the  premiere  of  a  new  motion  picti, . 
For  some  reason  Fanny  was  in  a  particukj,r 
bad  mood  when  they  left  for  the  theater,  Jt 
an  evening  with  her  son  never  failed  to  ch  r 
her  up.  They  were  shown  to  their  seats  i,l 
soon  after  the  start  of  the  picture  Fanny  .:- 
gan  a  running  commentary.  [ 

"Get  that,  kid,"  she  said  to  Billy  of  a  i  - 
ticular  scene. 

Followed  by,  "Oh,  I'm  sick ! "  as  the  hejS 
began  to  turn. 

Followed  by.  "This  picture  is  a  dog ! " 

Bill  leaned  closer  and  whispered,  "Motk-, 
the  star  of  the  picture  is  sitting  in  from  if 
you." 

"I  don't  give  a  hoot  where  she's  sittin  " 
Fanny  shouted,  drowning  out  the  scr  n 
dialogue.  "She  hasn't  is 
much  talent  in  her  wl  e 
body  as  I  have  in  my  li  le 
finger." 

Bill  ran.  He  went  up  le 
aisle  as  fast  as  his  legs  wc  d 
carry  him,  and  he  was  nit 
on  the  sidew^alk  w]n 
Fanny  joined  him. 

"See?"  she  said  vict  i- 
ously.  "You  couldn't  en 
sit  through  that  picturit 
was  so  lousy." 
More  and  more  now  Fanny  began  to  w  la- 
draw  from  Hollywood  society.  She  wai  d 
old  friends  around  her.  * 

Now  and  then  Fanny  would  accept  ar  i- 
vitation  to  an  evening  at  someone's  he  e. 
Once  Ethel  Barrymore  invited  Fai  y, 
George  Cukor,  Katharine  Hepburn,  G  ca 
Garbo  and  one  or  two  others  to  a  dii  sr 
party.  Miss  Ethel  entertains  rarely,  ar  a 
summons  to  her  home  is  not  taken  lightlvin 
Hollywood. 

An  hour  before  Cukor  was  to  pick  ip 
Fanny  and  drive  her  to  Miss  Ethel's  he  e, 
his  telephone  rang. 

"George,  it's  me,"  Fanny  said.  "I  c.'t 
go  tonight." 

"Are  you  sick,  Fanny?  "  Cukor  asked. 
"I'm  not  sick.  It's  my  hair,  Georg  I 
can't  go  out  with  my  hair  looking  like  1  ;s. 

Tell  Ethel  I  can't  " 

"You  tell  her,"  Cukor  said.  "I'm  not  o- 
ing  to  do  your  dirty  work." 
"  Well,  I'm  not  going,"  Fanny  said.  ' 
"Don't  go.  But  you  should  call  *t, 
Fanny." 

"  I  can't,  George.  You  do  it,"  Fanny  s  d, 
and  hung  up. 

Cukor  arrived  at  Miss  Ethel's  home  w  le 
the  hostess  and  her  guests  were  having  o  k- 
tails.  "Where  is  Fanny?"  demanded  I  ss 
Ethel. 

"Something  about  her  hair,"  Cukor  id 
uncomfortably. 

"What  about  her  hair?"  demanded  lite 
Ethel. 

"Something  about  how  awful  it  look  ," 
Cukor  said. 

"Why  didn't  she  come  without  her  ha  *" 
Miss  Ethel  asked. 

Fanny  talked  more  and  more  in  those  (  ys 
of  leaving  money  to  the  children.  One  ly 
when  her  oldest  grandchild,  Peter  St  k, 
was  visiting  and  making  more  noise  i  in 
usual,  she  pointed  a  long  finger  at  him. 

•Copyricht.  l*J4'>,  by  F-vvrt-tt  Freeman  .^^<l  Jess  Oppenh 


M     <i     M  i. 


J     It  I 


A  I, 


157 


"One  more  crack  out  of  you,  kid,"  she 
said,  "and  the  douKli  ^^()es  to  U.C.L.A." 

About  tliis  time  slie  wrote,  "I  wouldn't 
care  as  much  alx)ul  leaving  money  if  I  were  a 
painter  or  a  writer.  What  do  I  leave  when 
I  no?  I  leave  n()thin^^.  Hut  the  money  really 
shows  what  I  did  in  my  life.  It's  kind  of  a 
proof  thai  I  did  all  rl^^hl.  I  think  the  siivinn 
thinn  not  very  bin  with  me  when  the  children 
were  ix)rn.  If  I  never  had  any  children,  I 
niinhl  have  Ix'en  more  careless  with  money, 
lint  there  was  nothing  I  wouldn't  buy  if  I 
saw  it  and  wanted  it.  I  have  never  said  to 
myself,  '1  want  that  but  I  won't  spend  the 
money.'  If  I  wanted  it.  I  never  cared  for  the 
cost  of  it." 

Three  months  after  the  death  of.  his  last 
wife  on  New  Year's  Day,  1950,  Nick  Arnslein 
telephoned  Fanny  and  made  an  ai)i)<)inlmenl 
to  call  on  her. 

As  Fanny  hunt;  up  on  Nick  siie  yelkd, 
"Kaye!"  excitedly. 

Then  she  picked  up  tiie  telephone  to  call 
Frances. 

She  reached  for  a  cigarette  while  she 
dialed,  trying  to  strike  a  match,  with  her  el- 
bow lioldinn  tiie  telephone  stationary  and 
iui  head  cocked  to  keep  the  receiver  in  place, 
as  Kaye  entered. 

"What  is  it,  Fanny?"  Kaye  asked. 

Frances  said.  "  I  lello." 

Fanny  dropped  the  unlit  match. 

"Fran?"  Fanny  said.  "Hold  on." 

She  said  to  Kaye,  "  Nick  called.  He's  com- 
ing over  tomorrow  afternoon." 

"Here?"  Kaye  asked. 

"Right  here,  in  this  room,"  Fanny  said. 
"Give  me  a  match,  kid";  and  to  Frances: 
"Your  father  just  called  me." 

"Nick?"  Frances  asked. 


Fanny  leaned  forward  to  accept  the  lighl 
from  Kaye. 

"Yes,  Nick,"  Fanny  said.  "CommK  liere 
tomorrow,  'liy,  kid,  I'm  busy."  She  hung 
up  on  her  daunhler. 

"del  Ida  Cantor  for  me."  Fanny  said, 
shoving  the  telephone  at  Kaye.  "How  do 
you  like  thai  ?  "  Fanny  asked  as  Kaye  started 
to  dial.  "What  dcK's  he  wanl?  He  has  some- 
thing on  his  mind.  Give  me  that  telephone," 
seizing  the  instrument. 

"Ida!  One  guess  who's  coming  over  to- 
morrow. Nick !  Yeah,  here.  Wait  a  minute, 
kid."  She  pressed  the  receiver  to  her  Ixjsom. 
"Kaye!"  Fanny  shouted.  "Where's  Hill?" 

"I  suppose  he's  in  the  studio  painting," 
Kaye  said. 

"Gel  him.  Don't  tell  him  why.  Just  tell 
him  I  wanl  to  see  him  right  now."  She 
turned  away,  moving  the  receiver  to  her  ear. 

"Well,  Ida,"  she  siiid,  "and  how  do  you 
like  it?  Kid,  I  don't  know  whal  he  wants. 
I'll  call  you  later.  'Hy." 

She  hung  up  on  Ida,  and  dialed  Frances 
Lastfogel,  the  wife  of  the  William  Morris 
Agency  head,  at  the  Heverly-Wilshire  Hotel. 

By  nightfall  Fanny,  who  had  become  as 
secretive  about  her  private  life  as  is  a  news- 
caster alx)ul  the  day's  events,  had  told  ev- 
eryone she  knew  of  Nick's  scheduled  visit. 

Meanwhile  she  ordered  her  hairdresser 
and  manicurist  to  appear  at  the  house  on 
the  following  day. 

Fanny  had  an  early  dinner  and  took  to  her 
bed,  propping  herself  up  on  three  pillows  and 
summoning  people  to  come  and  talk  to  her. 
Long  after  midnight,  with  Kaye  asleep,  with 
several  hours  of  wakefulness  before  her, 
Fanny  telephoned  Eddie  Cantor. 

When  the  phone  rang.  Cantor  quickly 
took  the  receiver  from  the  cradle  so  the  bell 


Odu'r  Vi«'WM.  Six«>N  iinti  l*ri4M><«  of  %'o(!u«'  I'allornN 
and  iK'iiiixed  fust  of  Wardrob**  on  Vufli^  117 


Junior  Vogue  Design 

No.  3448. 


Vogue  Design  No.  7910. 


Vogue  Design  No.  "893. 


Junior  Vogue  Design 

No.  3479. 


Vogue  Design  No.  S-4371. 


Coat;  11  to  17,  30H  to   $  .75 

3H  yds.  wool  @  $2.50   8.44 

3H  yds.  lining  @  98c.>   3.55 

1/^  yds.  interfacing  (S  75c   1.03 

Vs  yd.  collar  velvet  @  S8.00  1.00 

3  buttons  15c       Thread  10     Total  .S15.02 

One-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  S  .75 
214  yds.  wool  jersey  @  $2.95 ....  7.38 

1J4  yds.  lining  (5  98c.  .   1.23 

9  covered  buttons  25 

1  vd.  yz"  elastic  15 

Seam  binding.  10c     Thread  10     Total  $  9.96 

"Easv-to-Make"  one-piece,  wrapped- 

back  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  44          S  .50 

35^  yds.  striped  cotton  @  $1.00.  .  .  3.63 

1  package  bias  tape  10 

Thread  10     Total  S  4.33 

Suit;  11  to  17;  30H  to  34H  $  .75 

3 '-'8  yds.  suiting  @  SI. 98   6.19 

IH  yds.  lining  @  98c   1.23 

H  yd.  interfacing  @  75c  47 

Button  molds. 25c     Skirt  zipper.  .25 

Seam  binding.  10c     Thread  10     Total  S  9.34 

One-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.$1.00 

3  yds.  silk  @  $2.25   6.75 

Skirt  stiffening  50 

5  buttons  .  .  .  .25c     Zipper  25 

Binding  10c     Thread  10     Total  S  8.95 

Total  cost  of  wardrobe. $47.60 


S-4371 


A  WARNING! 


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For  a  smarter  bathroom,  guest  room, 
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would  not  wake  Ida.  He  whispered,  "Hello," 
and  Fanny  said.  "Eddie?  Fanny." 

"What  is  it,  Fanny?" 

"Can  you  come  right  over,  Eddie?" 

"  What's  the  matter,  Fanny?  "  asked  Can- 
tor. "What's  wrong?" 

"Eddie,  please  come  over.  Don't  ask  ques- 
tions. I  have  to  see  you." 

"I'm  on  my  way,"  Cantor  told  his  old 
friend,  replacing  the  receiver  in  the  darkness 
and  groping  his  way  out  of  the  bedroom.  He 
pulled  pants  over  his  pajamas,  put  on  his 
shoes,  found  a  tweed  jacket  which  he  got  into 
as  he  ran  and  flung  the  garage  doors  open. 

As  he  sped  toward  Fanny's  house.  Cantor 
mentally  saw  her  bleeding  to  death.  Then, 
running  across  the  lawn,  pushing  open  the 
door  and  leaving  it  open,  taking  the  steps  two 
and  three  at  a  time,  he  came  at  last  to 
Fanny's  room,  where  he  found  her  high  up  in 
the  bed,  her  hands  atop  the  covers,  her  eyes 
wide  with  pleasure,  and  her  face  smiling  at 
him  as  she  smoothed  the  blankets  beside  her. 

"Tell  me  something."  she  said. 

Cantor  collapsed.  He  fell  down  on  the  bed. 
He  pressed  his  lingers  slowly  to  his  chin. 
Holding  his  face  thus,  he  shook  his  head 
back  and  forth,  back  and  forth,  while  Fanny 
waited  patiently. 

Then:  "Are  you  crazy,  Fanny?" 

She  watched  him  affectionately. 

"Fanny,  have  you  lost  your  mind  alto- 
gether?" 

She  giggled. 

He  extended  his  hand,  fingers  together, 
pointing  at  the  floor.  "Calls  me  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  I'm  just  falling  asleep,"  ex- 
tending his  other  hand.  "What  should  I 
think?  I  think  you're  dying,  God  forbid.  I 
think  maybe  you  had  terrible  news  that  " 

"Nick's  coming  tomorrow,"  Fannie  said. 

"  I  know  Nick's  coming  tomorrow,"  Eddie 
said.  "So  what  is  it  with  you?  Do  you  have 
to  scare  me  half  to  death?  Look  at  me, 
Fanny.  I'm  shaking  like  a  leaf,"  offering  his 
hands  for  inspection,  but  Fanny  lit  a  ciga- 
rette. 

"You  remember  that  time  in  Cleveland, 
kid?"  she  asked. 

Cantor  rose.  "I'm  going  home,"  he  an- 
nounced. 

"When  I  wouldn't  let  you  and  Bill  Fields 
eat  on  the  diner?"  she  asked. 

"You  shouldn't  call  people  this  hour  of 
the  night,  Fanny,"  Cantor  said,  taking  a 
stride  toward  the  door. 

"And  the  spaghetti  I  made,"  Fanny  said 
as  Cantor  stopped,  stood  motionless  with  his 
back  to  his  hostess,  and  turned  to  face  her 
finally,  the  smile  spreading  over  his  face. 

"  I  never  believed  you,  and  I  don't  believe 
you  to  this  day,"  he  said,  sitting  down  on  the 
chair  beside  her  bed. 

Fanny  raised  her  right  hand.  "May  I  be 
struck  dead  this  minute,"  she  said,  "if  I  did 
it  on  purpose." 

^Vhat  they  remembered  was  the  tour  of  the 
Follies  of  1918.  They  were  a  few  hours  out  of 
Cleveland  when  W.  C.  Fields  and  Cantor  de- 
cided to  have  dinner.  Passing  Fanny's  com- 
partment, they  invited  her  to  join  them. 

"Wait  until  we  get  to  the  hotel,"  Fanny 
said.  "I'll  make  us  something  in  the  room." 

"Why  can't  we  eat  here?"  Cantor  asked. 

"Will  you  do  what  I  say?"  Fanny  asked. 
"Why  should  you  spend  good  money  on  the 
train?  Let  me  make  dinner." 

"  I'm  starving,"  Cantor  protested. 

"Here,  have  a  mint  to  tide  you  over," 
Fanny  suggested. 

The  train  was  an  hour  late.  It  was  after 
nine  o'clock  before  they  reached  the  hotel 
and  rendezvoused  in  Fanny's  room.  When 
at  last  she  appeared  with  three  plates  of 
spaghetti,  the  trio  fell  to  like  kids  at  a  bean 
feed. 

And  very  nearly  began  foaming  at  the 
mouth. 

Fanny's  maid  had  somehow  sprinkled 
soap  flakes  on  the  spaghetti,  mistaking  them 
for  cheese.  In  her  bedroom  half  a  continent 
and  thirty-two  years  later.  Cantor  could  not 
understand  yet  how  anyone  could  make  such 
an  error.  So  these  two  old,  old  friends  sat 
talking  while  the  night  faded  away. 

She  let  Cantor  go  home  with  the  morning 
sun,  and  slept  fitfully  for  a  few  hours.  Fanny 


remained  upstairs  all  morning,  eating  noth- 
ing except  a  piece  of  toast,  which  she  washed 
down  with  several  cups  of  coffee.  When  at 
last  the  doorbell  sounded  through  the  house, 
Kaye  went  to  welcome  Fanny's  guest. 

"I  am  Mr.  Arnold,"  Nick  said,  using  the 
name  by  which  his  California  friends  knew 
him. 

"Please  come  in,  Mr.  Arnold,"  Kaye  said. 
"Will  you  wait  in  the  barroom?  Miss  Brice 
will  be  down  in  a  moment." 

Fanny  came  into  the  barroom  quietly,  so 
that  she  saw  him  before  he  saw  her.  She 
stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  the  back  she 
knew  so  well,  at  the  slope  of  his  shoulders, 
at  his  well-shined  shoes  hiding  the  shapely 
feet  which  she  had  admired.  She  was  in  her 
fifty-ninth  year  that  day  and  her  once-hus- 
band  was  in  his  seventieth  year,  but  the 
sight  of  him  could  still  make  her  excited. 

"Hello,  Nick." 

"Fanny,  Fanny,  Fanny,"  Nick  said,  tak- 
ing her  hands  in  his  hands  and  bending  his 
head  to  kiss  her. 

"How  do  you  feel,  Fanny?"  Nick  asked. 
"I  heard  that  you  were  ill,"  he  said,  follow- 
ing her  across  the  room  and  sitting  in  the 
easy  chair  to  which  she  gestured.  She  sat  on 
the  sofa  at  right  angles  to  the  chair. 

"I'm  all  right,  Nick,"  she  told  him.  "How 
are  you?" 

"Fine,  Fanny,  fine,  thank  you.  Never  bet- 
ter," he  said,  hooking  a  thumb  in  his  vest 
pocket. 

"You  look  wonderful,  Nick,"  she  said. 

" Ffe/ wonderful,  old  girl,"  he  said,  patting 
his  flat  stomach.  "Been  keeping  busy,  have 
you,  Fanny?"" 

"Ah,"  she  said,  "it's  too  much.  Running 
around  all  the  time." 

They  continued  thus  until  Nick  said, 
"You  know,  Fanny,  my  wife  died  on  New 
Year's  Day." 

"I  didn't  know  that,  Nick."  Fanny  said. 
The  concern  she  showed  him  was  real  con- 
cern. "I'm  awfully  sorry  to  hear  that,  Nick." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "she's  gone.  She  was  a 
fine  woman,  Fanny.  I  spent  twenty-five 
happy  years  with  that  woman.  I  learned 
things;  many,  many  things.  I've  changed  a 
great  deal  since  the  old  days  in  New  York.  I 


don't  think  I've  held  a  deck  of  cards  in  my 
hand  for  nearly  twenty-five  years.  Now 
there's  something  that's  hard  to  believe,  isn't 
it?"  he  asked,  and  wouldn't  wait  for  an  an- 
swer. "Perhaps  it  was  the  kind  of  life  my 
wife  and  I  had  here  in  this  land  of  mahana." 

"The  Amstein  residence  was  located  in 
Pasadena;  a  gorgeous  estate,  beautifully 
landscaped;  several  fountains  and  a  spray 
pool  adorned  the  formal  Oriental  garden," 
Nick  wrote  in  his  autobiography. 

Now,  in  Fanny's  barroom,  Nick  was  si- 
lent for  a  moment. 

"That  house  is  gone,"  he  said  heavily. 
"My  wife  is  gone.  Many,  so  many  things  are 
gone.  Something  has  happened  to  me,  Fanny, 
something  in  here,"  he  said,  touching  his 
forefinger  to  his  heart."  I'm  a  long  way  from 
the  Nicky  you  knew,  Fanny. 

"Life  teaches  you  its  lessons,"  Nick  con- 
tinued, "at  bitter  cost.  If  only  we  knew  then 
what  we  know  now,  eh,  Fanny?"  he  asked. 

"That's  right,"  she  said,  watching  him. 

"A  man  has  to  make  his  peace  with  him- 
self," Nick  said,  "and  I've  made  mine.  I 
wish  .  .  .  well,"  he  said,  throwing  up  his 
hands,  "there's  no  great  gain  to  wishing,  is 
there?  You  see,  Fanny,  if  we  had  only  under- 
stood each  other  a  little  better.  If  we  had 
only  given  more  to  each  other,  why,  who 
knows,  we  might  never  have  been  divorced." 

"Would  you  like  a  drink,  Nick?"  Fanny 
asked. 

"Why,  thank  you,  no,  Fanny,"  Nick  said. 
He  was  out  of  his  chair  and  straightening  his 
coat.  "I'm  afraid  I  must  be  running  along. 
It's  been  wonderful  seeing  you,  my  dear.  I 
am  most  grateful  to  you  for  receiving  me." 
Nick  left. 

Bill  Brice  found  his  mother  slouched  deep 
in  the  chair  Nick  had  vacated,  her  long  legs 
stretched  out  before  her,  and  her  elbows  rest- 
ing on  the  chair  arms.  Fanny  did  not  turn 
to  see  who  had  entered.  "I  told  you  he 
wanted  something,"  she  said.  "His  wife  is 
dead.  Bill.  He's  looking  around  to  get  mar- 
ried." 

"Maybe  he  just  dropped  in  to  say  hello," 
Bill  said. 

(Continued  on  Page  160) 


Never  Underestimate  the  Power  of  a  Woman ! 


>     "     '     I'.     .-^  II     II     M     I  I     (I     I       I!      \     \  I 


Try  fhese  4  summer-gold 
fable  treats. . . so  easc^  to  flx 
with  canned  clin^  peaches 


FIESTA 
PEACH  MOLD 

I'li'IKuc  ]  package  fruit- 
llavored  gelatin  using 
peach  syrup  in  [ilace  of 
water.  Add  rind  and 
juice  of  Vj  lemon.  When 
tliickened,  stir  in 
cups  of  canned  cling 
peach  slices.  Chill  in 
mold  untillirm.  IJnniold. 
Garnish  with  golden 
'  cling  peach  slices  and 
\    '  whippeffcr^n.  Serves  6^^ 


FIESTA 
PEACH  ^AlAD 

wiffi  salad  dressing. 

ssolve  V>  package 
•a  wherry -flavored 
at  in  in  Mi  cup  boil- 
;  water.  Add  Vj  cup 
up  from  canned  cling 
iches  and  2  chopped 
jch  halves.  Turn  into 
all  pan.  Chill.  Cut 
o  14  diamonds.  Place 
Irained  peach  halves 
J  2  gelatin  diamonds 
each  garnished  salad 
;te.  Top  with  salad 
;ssing.  Serves  7. 


FIESTA 
PEACH  SHORTCAKE 

IJaki'  a  two-la>«r  cake 
with  prepared  cake  mix. 
Cool.  Drain  a  No.  2"- 
can  of  cling  peach  slices.' 
Fill  and  top  cake  with 
peaches  and  1  cup 
cream,  whijiped.  Clings 
from  California  give  you 
such  luscious  peach 
flavor ! 


FIESTA  PEACH  DESSERT 

Easiest,  sunniest  dessert  you  can  set  before  a  family  or  guests 
—golden  cling  peaches  from  California  sjinply  spooned  from 
the  can,  served  with  your  favorite  cookies.  Clings  are  juicy- 
sweet  beauties,  bursting  with  fresh-peach  goodness.  Your  best 
fruit  buy!  Keep  several  thrifty  cans  handy  1 


Your  best  food  buy  is  food  in  caus, 

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at  lowest  cost,  all  year  "round.  And  cans*  are 
safe,  strong,  easily  handled  and  stored. 

"'Tin  cans  are  actually  about  99%  steel. 


UNITED  STATES 
STEEL  © 


Only  steel  can  do  so  many  jobs  so  irell 


RELIEVES  PAIN , 
OF  HEADACHE  | 
NEURALGIA  J 
NEURITIS 


CoBstipatiori 
worries  are 


over  I 


mm  of 

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provides  better  relief- 
more  complete  relief 

than  single -purpose  laxatives  which 
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For  Milk  of  Magnesia  relieves  both 
conditions.  Two  to  four  tablespoon- 
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—  without  embarrassing  urgency.  So, 
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day  feeling  wonderful.  Get  Phillips' 
Milk  of  Magnesia  — the  best  laxative 
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MILK  OF  MAGNESIA 


Liquid  or  Tabfefs 


The  convenient 

4-ounce  size, . . 
The  economical 

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The  moneysaving 
26-ounce  size.  . 
Also  available  in  tablet  form 
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.25< 
75* 


(Continued  from  Page  158) 

"That's  not  so,"  Fanny  said.  "Don't  tell 
me  about  Nick.  He  figures  he'll  just  step  in 
now  and  take  over.  I  wonder  how  long  it's 
going  to  be  before  he  calls  me?" 

Nick  telephoned  ten  days  later  and  asked 
Fanny  to  go  to  dinner  with  him  that  evening. 
He  arrived  at  dusk,  holding  a  box  of  candy 
behind  him  like  a  bashful  bachelor. 

"This  is  for  you,  Fanny,"  he  announced, 
offering  the  candy. 

"Thanks,  Nick."  Fanny  opened  the  candy 
and  offered  it  to  him. 

"  We  don't  want  to  spoil  our  dinner,  do  we, 
Fanny?"  Nick  asked. 

"I  won't  spoil  it,"  she  replied,  munching 
on  a  nougat. 

Nick  helped  his  former  wife  on  with  her 
coat  and  led  her  out  to  his  car,  a  gleaming 
new  convertible.  He  made  her  comfortable 
and  as  he  got  in  behind  the  wheel  asked, 
"How  do  you  like  it,  Fanny?" 

Fanny,  who  could  not  recognize  her  own 
car  on  the  street,  said,  "Gee,  it's  a  swell  car, 
Nick." 

Bought  it  last  week,"  Nick  said,  as  they 
drove  away  from  Fanny's  house.  "Mine  was 
in  need  of  work  and  I  felt  the  urge  for  a 
change,  you  know.  I  drove  it  into  this  garage 
and  walked  out  on  the  sales  floor.  There  sat 
this  convertible.  I  liked  it  and  bought  it." 
He  snapped  his  fingers. 

"It  sure  is  a  nice  car,"  Fanny  said. 

"Where  would  you  prefer  to  dine?"  Nick 
asked. 

"There's  a  Chinese  place  on  Sunset  Boule- 
vard I  like,"  Fanny  said,  mentioning  a  res- 
taurant where  she  was  certain  none  of  the 
Hollywood  hierarchy  would  see  her. 

"You're  the  captain  of  my  fate,  little 
lady,"  Nick  said.  "I'm  the  mate  taking  or- 
ders." He  waited  for  her  reaction.  Then: 
"You  know,  Fanny,  I'm  in  the  shipping  busi- 
ness now.  Oh,  yes.  I  have  a  ship  tied  up  at 
Long  Beach  being  fitted  as  a  banana  carrier. 
I'm  looking  for  big  things  to  come  fjom  this 
venture  of  mine,  Fanny." 

It  was  an  old,  old  song,  and  Fanny  knew 
the  words  very,  very  well.  Big  things  were 
to  have  come  from  all  the  various  ventures 
she  had  witnessed  and  paid  for. 

"That's  wonderful,  Nick,"  Fanny  said, 
thinking  now  of  spareribs  and  egg  roll  and 
chow  mein.  "  It  sounds  swell,  Nick." 

"Yes,  Fanny,"  he  said,  as  they  crossed 
town  to  the  bright-lights  boulevards,  "I 
think  that  Lady  Fortune  is  going  to  smile  at 
me  finally.  It's  about  time,  isn't  it?" 

"Sure,  Nick." 

"You  sound  a  touch  pensive,  old  girl," 
Nick  said.  "Remembering  the  old  days,  are 
you?  Other  times  and  other  towns  and  that 
first  trip  we  took  to  England?  Weren't  those 
the  times,  Fanny?  Didn't  we  have  — '■ — " 

"I'm  hungry." 

Nick  chewed  his  lip.  After  a  moment  he 
said,  "Well,  we  can  certainly  remedy  that. 
I'll  just  put  the  heat  on  this  runabout." 

In  the  parking  lot  beside  the  restaurant 
Nick  handed  the  attendant  a  dollar.  "Keep 
an  eye  on  her,"  he  ordered,  nodding  at  the 
convertible.  "She's  brand-new,  you  know." 

"I'll  watch  it,"  the  attendant  promised. 

"Do  that,  my  boy,  do  that,"  Nick  said, 
dismissing  the  man  and  taking  Fanny's  arm. 
He  escorted  her  into  the  chow-mein  place  as 
though  it  was  Rector's,  pausing  briefly  in- 
side the  doors  to  survey  the  rows  of  booths 
flanking  both  walls  of  the  establishment.  He 
gave  orders  to  the  Chinese  waiter  as  though 
that  chop-suey  specialist  had  served  the 
crowned  heads  of  three  continents.  He  de- 
manded cocktails  and  when  he  was  told  there 
was  no  liquor  served,  he  demanded  wine. 
When  he  was  told  no  wine  was  served,  he 
demanded— and  got— beer,  pouring  the  am- 
ber fluid  with  the  care  devoted  to  the  most 
delicate  vintages. 

Holding  the  menu  with  one  hand,  he 
adjusted  his  pince-nez  with  the  other.  He 
ordered  dinner  slowly,  pausing  after  the 
selection  of  each  dish  to  counsel  the  waiter 
regarding  its  preparation. 

Fanny  wrote  later,  "Nick  didn't  change 
at  all.  He  was  still  the  same  Nick.  He  was 
old,  but  he  was  good-looking  old,  just  like  he 
had  been  good-looking  young." 


When  the  waiter  was  gone,  Nick  sipped 
the  beer  appreciatively.  He  set  the  glass 
down  to  light  Fanny's  cigarette  and  he  said, 
"Just  you  and  me,  Fanny." 

"Yeah." 

"Fanny,  I've  been  thinking  about  us." 
"Forget  it." 

"  I've  been  thinking  that  we're  two  lonely 
people  in  this  bitter  world." 

"I'm  not  alone,  Nick.  I've  got  my  kids. 
Out  kids  that  you  never  gave  a  good  " 

He  seemed  not  to  have  heard.  "Why 
should  we  live  alone,  you  and  I?  We've  only 
a  few  years  left  to  us,  you  know." 

Fanny  said  calmly,  "Now,  Nick,  forget  it. 
We're  not  getting  together,  so  forget  it. 
Don't  be  conning  me,  Nick,  I  know  you  too 
long  and  too  well." 

"Why,  Fanny,  what  are  you  talking  " 

-Nick!" 

He  looked  out  into  the  restaurant  as  his 
name  rang  out.  He  pulled  at  his  mustache. 
He  laced  his  fingers.  He  nodded.  "How  is 
Bill's  painting  coming  along,  Fanny?"  he 
asked. 

Fanny  leaned  forward  eagerly.  "Nick,  the 
kid  is  great.  No  fooling,  he's  really  got  talent. 
He's  a  hard-working  boy.  I  think  he's  going 
to  turn  out  to  be  quite  a  painter." 

Nick  breathed  easier,  and  devoted  himself 
to  the  soup  which  was  placed  before  him. 
The  crisis  averted,  they  finished  their  dinner 
with  no  further  trouble.  As  they  sipped  their 
final  cups  of  tea,  Nick  said,  "What  would 
you  like  to  do  now,  Fanny?" 

"I  don't  want  to  do  anything,  Nick." 

"  How  about  a  film,  my  dear?" 

"  I  don't  care." 

He  gestured  for  the  waiter,  paid  the  check 
and  escorted  Fanny  to  the  movies. 

Driving  home  in  the  cool,  clear  California 
night,  they  were  silent.  Nick  whistled  aim- 
lessly and  Fanny  sat  relaxed,  her  head  back 
against  the  leather  cushions,  feeling  the  wind 
on  her  face,  remembering  the  years  behind. 

Nick  turned  into  the  drive  before  Fanny's 
house  and  came  around  his  car  to  help  Fanny. 
He  walked  with  her  to  the  door,  and  as  she 
found  her  key  he  took  it  from  her  and  in- 
serted it  into  the  lock.  As  the  door  swung 
open,  he  turned  to  Fanny. 

"By  the  way,  Fanny,  may  I  call  you  to- 
morrow? I  would  like  to  talk  to  you  further 
about  my  shipping  venture." 

"No,  don't  call  me,  Nick." 

"Good  night,  Fanny." 

"Good-by,  Nick." 

She  was  through  with  Nick  then.  She 
would  never  let  him  use  her  again.  But  she 
never  ceased  telling  anyone  who  would  listen 
all  the  details  of  her  meeting  with  him  in 
Baltimore,  her  marriage,  the  birth  of  her 
children,  and  her  divorce. 

She  never  saw  Nick  again,  bu.  he  did  call 
the  hospital  while  she  was  sick  that  last  week 
of  her  life. 

She  died  on  May  29,  1951,  five  days  after 
a  cerebral  hemorrhage  had  struck  her.  A 
few  weeks  before,  Fanny  Brice  had  written: 

"I  have  noticed  something  about  comedi- 
ans. I  have  always  found  them  the  most 
honest  people.  We  see  the  funny  side  of  ev- 
erything. We  are  not  sensitive.  If  we  have  a 
fault,  we  are  the  first  to  point  it  out. 

"And  I  went  out  to  honest  people  wher- 
ever I  found  them.  It  could  be  anyone:  a  but- 
ler or  society.  I  always  tried  to  be  true  to  my- 
self, not  to  fool  myself  by  thinking  I  was 
something  else  than  what  I  was.  I  remember 
after  I  had  the  detectives  following  Nick  and 
they  reported  he  was  seeing  this  woman,  and 
I  told  him  I  knew  about  this  woman,  well,  he 
started  to  pack.  This  was  in  New  York  be- 
fore the  divorce,  but  the  beginning  of  the  end 
with  Nick. 

"I  was  on  the  chaise  longue  and  he  was 
packing.  He  was  packing  awfully  slow.  Stall- 
ing. I  was  watching.  I  thought  of  a  tortoise- 
shell  comb  in  the  bathroom.  I  liked  that 
comb  better  than  any  other  comb.  And  it  was 
Nick's  favorite  comb. 

"I  said  to  myself,  'I  hope  he  is  not  going 
to  take  that  comb.' 

"He  was  folding  shirts  into  his  suitcase.  I 
got  up  and  went  into  the  bathroom.  I  closed 
the  door.  I  got  the  comb  and  put  it  under  the 
mat.  After  he  left  that  night,  I  thought,  'If 


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II     II     M  I 


I     II  I 


III  1 1  ally  loved  liirii,  why  did  you  think  of 
:il  loiiih?'  I  fion't  know  wiial  I  liioiiniil  ol 
I  loiild  ncviT  liniiri'  f  out.  I  never  saw 
1,1,  a^'ain  without   thinkniK  of  it,  that 
ml).  And  it  is  upstairs  rinht  now. 
■  Wiien  1  think  hack,  I  know  I  was  liic 
nil  person  at  all  limes.  And  I  was  never 
li. lined  of  myself.  I  was  always  proud.  I 
;iv  always  what  I  was,  and  not  what  I  pre- 
iided  to  he.  I  was  practically  raised  in  a 
iloon,  and  I  never  had  any  feelinn  alxnit 
lal.  I  nuess  I  knew  it  was  heller  lo  he  hon- 
■it.  The  most  dangerous  tiling  in  the  world  is 
ot  to  be  honest.  I  think  you  can  only  Kd  in 
ouble.  \'ou  are  either  somellun^;  or  you  arc 
ol.  When  I  cami'  lo  Broadway  and  mi  l  all 
lose  society  people,  royally,  and  Ihe  like,  1 
ever  lliouuhl  to  myself,  "("ii'e.  kid.  you  are 
.•ally  there  now.  Vou  are  with  the  imporlant 
ieo|)le  now."  I  never  said  that.   I  never 
hou^;ht  it.  Money  never  impressed  me  if 
here  wasn't  the  person  lo  ,no  with  il. 

"If  I  am  passin.u  a  hen.t;ar,  and  you  know 
i/hcn  you  ixiss  a  be^.nar  you  look  for  the 
iiiallest  chan^;e  you  have,  it's  natural ;  so  if  I 
lop  in  front  of  a  beK.i;ar  and  I  see  there  is 
lolhinn  smaller  than  (ifly  cenls  in  my  iiurse, 
'11  slop  in  front  of  him  and  watch  his  face.  I 
vanl  lo  see  thai  smile  when  he  nets  Ihe  four 
)ils.  But  if  I  am  puttin.u  a  few  pennies  in,  I 
ust  put  il  in  (luick  and  keep  walkint;. 

"And  with  honesty  j^oes  another  Ihin^: 
hat  you  don't  like  thin,us  in  people  that  you 
lon't  like  in  yourself.  If  someone  comes  in, 
a\  s  down,  and  i)uls  their  feel  on  a  nice  clean 
ouch,  I  don't  like  that : 
ivhetlier  it's  my  couch 
)r  somebody  else's  ^^r^r^r^r* 
:ouch.  I  couldn't  do 
hat.  If  I  want  to  lay 
in  the  couch  at  sonie- 
jody's  house.  I  would 
ake  my  ihoesoff .  I  hate 
iiiyone  who  has  no  re- 
»ard  for  that,  who  dis- 
nisses  you  like  that.  1 
late  the  word  'hate.' 
Every  time  I  say  that 
,vord  I  say  lo  myself. 
Don't  use  that  word. 
Use  dislike. '  I  never 
laled  Nick  with  all  I 
\-ent  through.  Maybe 
laving  children  with  a  man  would  have 
iomelhin.t;  to  do  with  that.  When  I  think 
ibout  Nick,  I  am  still  glad  that  he  is  the 
'alher  of  my  children.  I  wouldn't  want  any- 
me  to  have  been  their  father  but  Nick. 

"  I  know  I  feel  that  way  because  there  was 
"eally  nothing  bad  in  Nick  at  all.  I  can  only 
>ay  he  was  just  a  fool.  He  has  such  courage 
ind  such  strength  at  the  right  time,  like 
A'hen  he  had  to  go  to  jail.  There  -was  no 
3reaking  down.  He  wasn't  sorry  for  himself. 
3r  pitying  himself.  He  never  greeted  me  in 
:he  jail  without  a  smile  and  a  big  hello.  But 
.vith  other  things,  he  was  weak.  I  guess. 

"I  have  always  been  embarrassed  dis- 
:ussing  sex.  If  you  will  talk  to  a  comic,  you 
A'ill  find  out  that  comedians  and  comedi- 
ennes all  feel  the  same  way  about  sex.  There 
are  two  things  you  can't  really  be  funny 
about.  They  are  sex  and  religion.  If  you  can 
talk  about  sex  easily,  then  your  feelings 
iren't  very  profound  about  it. 

Another  thing:  There  have  always  been 
:wo  people  with  me:  the  Fanny  that's  in  ac- 
.ion  and  the  Fanny  that's  looking  at  her.  AI- 
Bost  like  a  mother  and  child.  I  have  felt  like 
[  was  my  own  mother,  and  when  I  would 
.hink  about  Fanny  I  would  always  think 
ibout  myself  as  a  child.  There  were  always 
wo  people:  the  mother  and  the  child.  I  am 
he  mother  of  Fanny  and  Fanny  is  the  child. 

"Being  a  funny  person  does  an  awful  lot 
)f  things  to  you.  You  feel  that  you  must 
lever  get  serious  with  people.  They  don't 
expect  it  and  they  won't  take  it  from  you. 
You  are  not  entitled  to  be  serious.  You  are  a 
;lown.  And  maybe  that  is  what  made  me 
late  emotion. 

"When  I  am  in  a  hotel,  in  a  suite  of  rooms, 
low  you  know  I  am  not  paying  for  the  lights. 
I  have  to  put  out  every  light  before  I  leave. 
If  I  take  a  bath,  and  use  a  nice,  lovely,  clean. 
Turkish  towel,  I'll  fold  it  up  and  put  it  back 
the  way  it  was.  That  towel  is  clean.  I  can 


ust  it  once  more,  in  my  own  hallinxjiii  I 
never  use  guest  towels.  I  have  them  hangiiu: 
there,  but  right  in  my  shower  Ix-hind  the 
curtain  I  have  a  Turkish  towel.  If  I  come  in 
and  see  someone  has  us<'d  the  ^',llesl  towels,  il 
annoys  me.  If  they  are  friends  of  mine,  I  lei! 
them.  I  say,  'If  you  want  to  dry  your  hands, 
kid,  there's  a  towel  in  the  shower." 

"  I  don't  think  making  money  affected  me 
at  all.  At  one  time  I  was  making  SK;^^)  a 
week,  doing  four  shows  a  day  at  the  molion- 
liicture  houses,  for  eight  weeks,  anti  all  I 
could  eat  was  celery  and  carrots,  so  what  did 
Ihe  money  mean? 

■■  I  liiid  now  that  I  am  thinking  of  the  oltl, 
old  limes.  On  the  Inial,  when  my  mother  took 
us  lo  Kurope,  that  first  lime,  I  used  to  In-g 
oranges.  Now.  here  is  something.  On  the  boat, 
I  renienilier  soiiietiody  gave  me  a  doll.  A 
broken  doll.  And  I  took  it  to  Ix'd  with  me. 
But  il  was  stolen  in  two  days.  Now  that  is 
Iirobably  hfty  years  ago.  but  here  is  a  funny 
thing;  I  miss  that  doll.  I  couldn't  rememlxT 
lieople's  names  that  I  met  yesterday,  but  I 
can  describe  that  doll  to  you  from  head  to 
foot.  And  I  will  tell  you  another  hinny 
thing:  1  still  want  thai  doll.  Now  what  does 
that  mean? 

liXT  door  to  the  salfMin  in  Newark,  I  hen 
was  a  furniture  store.  When  the  owner  would 
get  his  Christmas  stock  in,  he  didn't  liav( 
enough  room.  And  he  rented  my  mother's 
attic.  And  he  put  all  those  children's  toys, 
little  tables  and  things,  up  there.  When  I  saw 
that  stuff  going  into  the 
^    attic.  I  sli(K)k  like  a 
^      '^r '^r  leaf.  Because  I  knew  ;i 

way  lo  gel  into  the  at- 
tic. And  I  would  go  up 
and  play  with  all  this 
children's  furniture. 
One  day,  I  was  running 
up  the  steps  and  the 
point  of  a  table  was 
sticking  out  and  it 
struck  my  forehead. 
There  is  still  a  scar 
there.  I  know  my 
mother  beat  me.  I  was 
never  to  go  up  there 
again.  Never.  So  what 
happened?  So  -the 
next  day  I'm  up  there.  All  my  life  it  was 
like  that:  I  didn't  like  when  somebody  told' 
me  what  lo  do. 

"  I  never  liked  chiselers.  I  liked  thieves  if 
they  were  thieves,  but  not  angle  guys.  One 
lime  in  Chicago  we  were  playing  poker:  the 
Dolly  Sisters.  Sophie  Tucker,  me.  and  a 
couple  of  agents.  We  were  playing  all  week, 
and  I  am  losing,  the  Dolly  Sisters  are  losing, 
Sophie  is  losing.  I  am  out  $800  so  far.  Sophie 
and  the  Dolly  Sisters  kept  playing.  They 
just  wanted  to  play.  It's  like  that  story 
where  one  guy  said  to  the  other, '  Did  you  go 
to  that  gambling  house? ' 

" '  Yeah,  I  went,'  said  the  other  guy. 
"'Didn't  you  know  that's  a  crooked 
house?'  the  first  guy  said. 

"'Yeah.  I  know,'  said  the  second  guy. 
'but  it 's  the  only  gambling  house  in  town.' 

"And  that  gambling-house  story  is  the 
story  of  everybody's  life.  We  know  we  are 
going  the  right  way  or  the  wrong  way.  but  we 
do  it  all  the  time.  1  wanted  to  call  my  book 
"I  Knew  What  I  Was  Doing  — I  Think.'  be- 
cause whatever  happened  to  me  in  my  life 
was  not  a  surprise  when  it  happened. 

"  I  made  most  things  happen  for  me.  and 
if  they  were  good.  I  worked  to  get  them.  If 
they  were  bad,  I  worked  just  as  hard  for  that. 

"But  I  am  not  sorry.  I  will  tell  anybody 
that,  and  it  is  the  truth.  I  lived  the  way  I 
wanted  to  live  and  never  did  what  people 
said  I  should  do  or  advised  me  to  do.  And  I 
want  my  children  to  do  the  same.  Let  the 
world  know  you  as  you  are.  not  as  you  think 
you  should  be.  because  sooner  or  later  if  you 
are  posing,  you  w  ill  forget  the  pose,  and  then 
where  are  you? 

"And  in  what  I've  said  for  my  book,  I've 
said  the  truth.  And  if  people  will  read  about 
Fanny  Brice  they  might  remember  that  they 
thought  she  was  very  unfunny.  They  might 
open  the  book  and  throw  it  away  and  it  can 
be  a  big  flop,  my  book.  But  one  thing  it 
won't  be:  a  lie."  THE  end 


THROWING  RICE 

Originally  wheat  was  thrown,  rather 
than  rice,  as  a  kind  of  prayer  that  the 
marriage  would  be  a  fruitful  union. 
Wheat  was  the  symbol  of  fertility. 
When  wheat  was  scarce  a  substitute 
was  found  in  rice.  Thus  all  guests 
throw  rice  at  the  bride  as  she  leaves 
the  church. 

—  DAVID  T.  ARMSTRONG 


%^  ^        ^  'A^" 


i 
I 


An  Unretoucfied  Actual  Color  Photograph 


FLAME  VIOLHT  (Hpiscia  Coccinea)  is 
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'I 


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'More  beautiful  than  Afri- 
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In  vivid  contrast  are  the  rich 
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let that  e\en  without  its 
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v  Xt  is  everything  we 
Flange  V.ole_t  s 


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money. 


nmediotely. 
© 1953_ 


HENRY  FIELD  Seed  &  Nursery  Co. 

1031  Dale  Street,  Shenandoah,  Iowa 

Please  send  me,  postpaid,  with  cultural  instructions,  the 
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□  1   Flame  Violet,  $1.98 

□  3  Flame  Violets,  $5.40 


No.  2N291M 


Name_ 


St.  or  Rt.. 


_State_ 


162 


LADIES' 


11    O    M  E 


O    U    R    N  A 


February,  195.-; 


MRS.  ESTHER  DAVIES,  Evening  Chief  Operator,  The  Chesapeake  & 
Potomac  Telephone  Company,  super\ises  the  work  of  the  entire  evening  staff 
»>f  a  busy  Washington,  D.  C,  office. 


3m  ou  Gkinl  Ofmt^l 


Mrs.  Davies  is  just  one  ambitious  young  woman 
who  has  proved  that  there's  plenty  of  opportunity 
in  telephone  work. 

Starting  as  an  operator,  Mrs.  Davies  has  ad- 
vanced from  one  interesting  job  to  another.  In 
each  position  she  has  enjoyed  the  good  pay,  regu- 
lar increases,  and  the  many  other  benefits  which 
make  telephone  work  so  satisfying  and  rewarding. 

These  include  vacations  with  pay,  sick  benefits 
and  a  pension  plan  which  costs  her  nothing.  She 
likes  the  evening  hours,  too,  which  leave  her 
mornings  free  for  marketing  and  shopping. 

Every  year  thousands  of  women  in  Bell  Tele- 
phone companies  are  promoted  to  better  and 
more  responsible  jobs.  That's  one  reason  why 
you  hear  so  many  of  them  say,  with  Mrs.  Davies, 
"I've  been  very  happy  in  my  work  at  the  tele- 
phone company!  " 


"A  Good  Place  to  Work" 


A  »i4>lo<><i4»n  »f  •■<»ITRXAL  booklotM  for  the'  hom«>mak<^r. 


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1348.  Spots  and  Stains.  Inchides  treat- 
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I.'i02  Handbook  of  Slip  Covers.  Shows 

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EBTTERTAIIVIIVG 


1376. 


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'HI*- 


By  ELIZABETH  CADELL 

/IPLETE  in  one  issue  NOVEi 


CAN  WE  TRUST  ALL  OUR  DOCTORS? 

NO  LOVE  LIKE  OUR  LOVE  by  ^. 

MYTRU^  cTLi       ^nnress  Narriman  .  , 


dMkyj2Ju"  ...  CAN  THIS  MA. 


at  17 
SAVED? 


j)raj(Ml 


or  ram... 


Ill  a 


ownpoiir ! 


"The  most  exciting  scenes  in 
'I  Confess'  called  for  rain," 
Anne  Baxter  explained.  "But  the 
weather  was  so  lovelv,  we  had 
to  make  our  ow  n  rain.  I  was 
drenched  so  many  times  with  icy 
streams  from  the  studio  hose, 
I  prayed  for  some  'gentle  rain 
from  heaven'! 


'The  winds  came,  too.  while  I  was  making  these 
scenes  day  after  day  on  the  ferry  boat.  Naturally 
that  chapped  my  hands  and  face  dreadfully,  but 
pure  white  Jergens  Lotion  rescued  me  again  — 
and  so  quickly!  Sec  for  yourself  why:  Smooth 
one  hand  with  quickly  absorbed  Jergens... 


-starring  in 
I  CONFESS" 

Warner  Bros.  Production 
irected  by  Alfred  Hitchcock 


'"Then  tiic  rains  finally  came,  and  I  worked  outdoors  in  si)[)pnig  wet  clothes  for  almost  a  week!  My  sensitive  skin  just 
1     wouldn't  have  stood  it  without  gentle,  soothing  Jergens  Lotion.  It  felt  so  wonderful  —  and  it  kept  my  skin  beautifully  soft. 


"AppK  an\  ()idin,u\  lotion  or  cream  to  the 
other.  Then  wet  them.  Water  won't  'bead' 
on  the  hand  you'\  e  smoothed  with  won- 
derful Jergens  Lotion  as  it  will  with  oily 
lotions  or  creams  that  just  coat  tlic  skin. 


"Close-ups  like  this  demand  soft,  roman- 
tic hands.  And,  thanks  to  Jergens  Lotion, 
mine  always  looked  right.  No  wonder 
screen  stars  choose  Jergens  Lotion  7  to  1, 
it's  such  a  pleasant  care— and  so  effective! " 


Use  Jergens  Li  :  ;.  .;ter  each  of  yjur 
chores,  too!  You'll  soon  see  why  more 
women  use  Jergens  Lotion  than  any  other 
hand  care  in  the  world.  Yet  Jergens  Lotion 
onlv  costs  lOo  to  SLOO,  plus  tax! 


Jc/lQCttS  lottOfV  . . 


IOO%  Mild  Pdlmolive  Soap  Helps  You  Guard  that 


Softer  Skin— Mary  Chabot,  Univ. 
of  Miami,  really  has  a  Schoolgirl 
Complexion!  She  says,  "Proper 
cleansing  with  Palmolive  gives  me 
softer,  more  natural-looking  skin!" 


Smoother  Skin— Pretty  Jane  Hord 
of  Central  High  School,  Kansas  City, 
says:  "My  skin  always  looks  and 
feels  so  much  smoother  and  fresher 
after  using  Palmolive  Soap." 


Natural  Looking — Diane  Greenslit 
of  Tulane  says,  "A  natural-looking 
skin  adds  to  any  girl's  beauty.  That's 
why  I  use  Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan. 
I  find  I  need  no  other  beauty  aid." 


Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  Is  Far  Better  For  Your  Skin  Than 
"Just  Average  Care"  With  Any  Leading  Toilet  Soap! 


Yes,  Softer,  Smoother,  Lovelier  Skin 

— that  Schoolgirl  Complexion  Look — 
most  women  can  have  it  within  14  days. 
36  leading  skin  specialists  have  proved  it 
in  actual  tests  on  twelve  hundred  and 
eighty-five  women.  What's  more,  fliese 
doctors  found  that  Palmolive's  Beauty 
Plan  is  unquestionably  better  for  your  skin 
than  "just  average  care"  with  any  lead- 
ing toilet  soap.  Palmolive  is  100%  mild! 
No  wonder  it  provides  such  tender  care 
for  babies'  skin,  for  your  skin. 

*No  therapeutic  claim  is 


So  don't  lose  another  day!  Change  to 
Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  .  .  .  massage 
Palmolive's  100%  mild,  pure  lather  onto 
your  skin  for  60  seconds,  3  times  a  day. 
Rinse  with  warm  water,  splash  with  cold 
and  pat  dry.  In  14  days  or  less,  you  can 
have  a  softer,  smoother,  fresher  looking 
skin!  You  need  no  other  product,  no 
other  beauty  aid.  Palmolive  is  100%  mild 
and  so  pure  it  gives  you  everything  you 
need  for  gentle  beauty  care — to  help 
guard  that  Schoolgirl  Complexion  Look! 

made  for  the  chlorophyll. 


Nature's 
Chlorophyir 

is  In  Every  Cake  Of 
Palmolive  Soap  .  . .  That's  What 
Makes  Palmolive  Green! 


live  Gr 


/00%  M/tD/  DOCIOI^S  PROVE  PALMOLIVE  BRINGS  OUT  BEAUTY  WHILE  IT  CLEANS  YOUR  SKIN! 


(journal 


VOI<.  I.XX  N<l.  .1 


I  ii/.aiK'iii  <: 


Il's  a  hit  too  liilc 
for  New  Year's  rcso- 
liitidiis,    liiii  Im.i/.\. 

II  (]\iii;i.i,  lias  two 
I  lull  arc  ^ood  any  ilav 
ill  tiu!  y(\ir.  Slif  re- 
solved "not  lo  let  liie 
[lossession  of  a  iioiise 
-*.%!iS  '^•"""P  Icaviiif^ 
i'"  iiiake  up 

lor  all  lliose  years  of 
my  liie  1  wasted  workiiif^."'  Some  years 
iifjo  she  resolved  not  to  put  up  with 
"the  imreasonahle  system  of  comiii^i  to 
work  oil  lime  and  turned  to  writing;- 
iortuiialeh  lor  those  of  ns  who  read  her 
new  novel,  Jtmnn'y'x  Eve,  Paf;e  42. 

And  from  Dublin 
(where  else?)  M  \i'U  \ 
I.AVERTY  writes: 
'Since  I  was  fifteen, 
I  have  been  [louriiif; 
out  short  stories,  ar- 
ticles, three  plays, 
five  novels,  two  ju- 
veniles and  a  cook- 
book. This  year — 
much  later — I  am 
celebratiiif^  my  silver-wedding  anni- 
versary with  my  husband  and  three 
children,  the  youngest,  Jimmy,  being 
five  years  old.  What  more  is  there  to 
say?"  Much,  but  only  room  to  mention 
iVo  Love  Like  Our  Love,  Page  50. 

The  lady  with  an  armful  of  puppies 
is  Dorothy  Cameron  Disney  (Mrs. 
Milton  MacKaye),  who  is,  among  otiier 
things,  a  mystery-story  writer.  JoupNAL 
readers  know  her  also  for  her  work  on 
our  How  America  Lives  series  and  for 
the  series  compiled  by  her — Can  This 
Marriage  Be  Saved?  Page  59. 


Mauru  Luvrrly 


Dorothy  Cameron  Disney 


IVov*"!  4  'oii«l«>iiNii«i<Mi  4 '«»in|>l<'««*  In  TIiIm  Immik' 

.loiirncyV  Mvr  l  li^it^  ih  t  ,„l.  ll  1.! 
Miti-i<'<. 

.Second  Ul.H.iniiin                                                            \uH.,n,l,„n  tl 

"Miiry.  I  Wtiiil  K, 'IVII  You"                                Kosrnmry  lloi.lun,!  U, 

No  l..»r  l.ikr  Our  Love                                                Mtiiini  hi,rrl\  ',(( 

Taw  JinucHiiii  (  I'hird  |iiirl  «.f  ti\<  )                     Miiv  lhwi<%  Miirtiiwl  .".<i 

S|»<><*iiil  F«*>i(iir<*>> 

Kcfurc  One  (;<m1                                                    »  ill,„m  /uhiman  II 

I  Ik-  Old  Hil.l  e  and  llie  New       .                         Ihinttliy  I  I 

h'auiily-l.ife  <  !<iursi-H  Cor  'r«!en-llf;«TH  in  \Hlirvillc,  Norlli  ( ianilina  .12 

■^oulli  ArceplH  KcHponxiliility                                  Marfttirri  lliilifv  '.\2 

IVII  Mc  l><M  lor  (Pari  ncven)  llrnrv  It.  SaJllonI,  \f.lt.  Vt 
Portrait  of  Doru  M 

<  iiui  VI  »• 'IVuHl  Ml  Our  l)<M'ti>r»y  Siilin-y  Sliahil  .'>:i 
My  True  Self  (Sccouil  pari  of  four) 

U.K. II.  I'riiircHH  Narriniau,  UH  lold  lo  KiauH  Klociiirr  .'it 

(Ian  'riiis  Marria<;e  He  Save<|y  ('I'liird  of  a  HericH)   .V> 

How  Yoiin;;;  America  Lives:  The  Bli;  Move  Hrlly  Hannah  Hoffman  l.'il 

Political  Pil<;riniB  (larrv  On   j  72 

"The  (Ira/.ienl  Thiuf;  'I'hal  Kver  Happened  to  Me"  I'XI 

4i«'H«>riil  P«>3iliir«'s 

Our  Readers  Write  Us   1 

Lfnder-C'.over  Stuff  Hrrnanlim-  Kirltv  16 

A  Way      ith  Color  (The  Suh-Del.)  Ediudhy  Hnth  lnU,  r  2.'. 

Making  Marriajje  Work  CUfford  R.  Adams  2H 

Reference  Library   'MS 

Diary  of  Domesticity  Gladys  Taln-r  3A 

Fifty  Years  Ago  •  Journal  Al»out  Town   -11 

There's  a  Man  in  the  House  Harlan  MilU-r  .iK 

Ask  Any  Vt Oman    MarceUw  Cox  I7H 

Your  Y  oungster's  Eyes  Dr.  Herman  I\ .  Bundesen  201 

This  is  a  Scribble-Scrawler  Munra  Leaf  201 

F:iMlii«>ii  siikI  Ki'iiiif  v 

Spring  Around  the  Corner  WilMa  C.nshman  60 

A  Lot  of  Fashion  for  Little  Money  .          .    .  Ruth  Mary  I'arkard  61 

Easter  Wardrobe  Young  as  Spring  Ruth  Mary  Packard  66 

One  Pattern  Makes  Seven  Dresses  Aora  O'Leary  6JJ 

"I  Was  Too  Fat  to  Have  a  Baby!"  .   .   .   .Dawn  Croufll  \orman  176 

F«M>«I 

Best  Vl'ishes  Ann  Bau  helder  70 

Line  a  Day  Ann  Batcheldcr  72 

Conversation  Piece  Ruth  Mills  'league  UKt 

Good  Foo<l — Lots  of  Fun!  Fran  Calkins  l.i6 

Ar<-liit<'<-tiir«'.  4p:ir«l4'iiiiif2  ami  lii(«'ri«»r  l»4'«-or.-iiioii 

Spite  House  Richard  Pratt  18 

One  to  Get  Ready  Richard  Pratt  112 

Young  Home-Builders  Nancy  Cranford  160 

Two  Rooms  in  One  Cynthia  McAdoo  162 

l*«>«>lll!<« 

Sara  King  Carleton  86  •  Blanche  DeGraff  111  •  Marie  Lang  127  •  Beulah 
Feuderson  Smith  138  •  Eleanor  Graham  Vance  1 18  •  Elaine  Sommers  158 

Elaine  V.  Emans  168  .  Elizabeth  McFarland  181  •  Lionel  Wiggam  198 
John  Travers  Moore  210 

fovt-r  l*holo(j!ra|»li  hy  Tana  llokan 


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Dazzling  news  for  fas- 
tidious women  who  love 
the  daintiness  of  pure 
white:  The  very  newest 
white  corsetry  is  now 
being  made  with  a  won- 
derful new  Lastex  yarn 
which  is  snowy  white,  and 
which — miracle  of  mira- 
cles— sfays  white  through 
wash  and  wear. 


March,  1% 


Dare  to  be  different ! 
Serve  your  own  Golden 
Apple  Jelly  in  your  most 
elegant  crystal  bowl! 


'OR  AS   LITTLE   AS   8^   A  GLASS 

Make  it  today ...  in  just  15  minutes! 


,.eLO:  5  GLASSES  (I'AtBS.  mUY) 

,  .  3Vi  cups  su^ar 

aHd  suear,  and  mix 
1.  pour  apple  ju.ce>nto  saucepan,  add  sug 

well.  ,  ^,:n„  to  a  boil, 

2  put  saucepan  over  high  -^^^.^^'ring  to  boil 

^°"r;Ld\ri  ZXl^^^n,  constantly, 

again,  and  bo.l  hard  for  I  ,,ickly 

3.  Remove  from  ^^^^l  t^neLsar"  ^  2  months 


CERTO  OR 
SURE-JELl 

Take  your  choice 
...  a  liquid 
or  powdered  fruit 
pectin  product! 


Proaiicts  of  General  Foods 


HOMEMADE  JAMS  AND  JELLIES- 

"ToAfcC  t^^fc...  Sjl^  ! 


*Recipe  in  booklet  on  Certo  bottle 
and  in  Sure-Jell  package.  And  be  sure 
to  send  for  exciting  leaflet  featuring 
other  new  recipes  made  with  frozen 
fruits  and  juices.  Write  to  Frances 
Barton,  Dept.  LM,  Box  1880,  New 
York  46,  N.Y. 


OurJ?eddens 


Stnii  of  tMv 

llliaca.  Nnv  York 
Dear  Editors:  Wliat  a  remarkable 
experience  my  letter  about  brearl  to 
the  Jot  RNAL  has  proved  to  be !  We 
wouldn't  have  niis,«ed  it. 

All  summer  I've  busily  stufYed  cn- 
velojies  with  the  reeipe  for  Cornt'll  — 
Triple  Rich  — High  Protein  bread.  We 
sent  out  a  thousand.  Even  now  more 
•  ^quests  from  your  readers  are  still 
coming  along  and  the  second  thousand 
recipes  is  gradually  disappearing. 
Homemakers,  of  course,  were  the  chief 
enthusiasts.  Some  doctors  were  inter- 
ested. A  number  of  letters  came  from 
schools  and  Imsjjitals.  Sixty  bakeries 
wanted  the  fornuda. 

I  don't  know  where  this  bread  busi- 
ness is  going  to  end,  but  I  do  know 
that: 

1 .  JoURN.\L  readers  like  bread. 

2.  J<)t  RN.\L  readers  like  good  bread. 
joi_'RN.\L  readers  like  bread  that's 

Kood  for  them. 

Yes,  you  have  wonderful  readers, 
riu're  is  no  way  to  measure  the  im- 
mense bruc  lit  to  human  nutrition  that 
their  enriL;i  tii'  interest  must  already 
have  brought.  This  is  to  say  "Thank 
you  "  to  all. 

Sincerelv  and  gratefully  yours, 

jEANETTE  B.  McCAY 


Trav«'l«»r*s  W«»lponn' 

New  York  City 

Dear  Editors:  Having  arrived  in  this 
wonderful  and  bewildering  city,  I  or- 
dered a  taxicab  to  convey  me  and  my 
mountain  of  luggage  to  a  hotel. 

.\s  I  gave  my  directions,  the  driver 
turned  over  his  shoulder  and  said,  "I 
guess  you're  English,  ma'am?" 

I  said,  "Yes,"  and  asked  him  if  he 
knew  England. 

"Stire,  ma'am,  I  was  there  with  the 
.Army." 

"Really?  What  part?" 

"  I  was  camped  near  Southampton  in 
some  bi  autit  ul  woods  called  Cranbury, 
where  there  was  a  house  like  a  palace." 

I  then  told  him  it  was  my  home,  and 
mentionetl  my  name.  Whereupon  he 
jammed  down  tin-  brake,  disregarding 
the  lights,  with  tra!'lif  w  hirling  around 
us.  death  imminent,  and  turning  round, 
thrust  out  his  hand  and  said: 

"Shake!" 

So  I  "shook." 

I  then  told  him  I  had  come  to 
America  to  give  some  talk-^  witli  pic- 
tures of  Cranbury.  His  exciteiiK  iit  uas 
intense. 

He  then  said,  "  Ma'am,  I  will  bring 
my  wife  and  six  children  to  that  lecture. 
Please  let  me  know  when  it  will  be." 

We  soleiimly  exchanged  cards. 

After  I  arrived  at  the  hotel,  I  dis- 
covered that  one  of  my  packages  was 
missing,   and   was  in   the  telephone 


booth  ringing  up  the  police  when  the 
hall  porter  tapped  loudly  at  the 
window.  I  behelfl  my  taxi  driver  with 
my  lost  package ! 

With  beaming  eyes  he  told  me  how  a 
lady  had  engaged  his  cab  after  he  left 
me,  and  when  she  got  out  she  had  it  in 
her  hand. 

He  had  said,  "You  didn't  get  into 
iny  cab  with  that  package."  She  had 
replied  that  it  was  hers.  He  had  in- 
sisted on  opening  it,  and  saw  a  pocket- 
book  insifle  with  my  name  on  it.  So  he 
had  shouted  triumphantly,  "This  be- 
longs to  a  friend  of  mine!" 

I  felt  very  touched  and  humble,  at 
this  great  heart  in  a  strange  land. 

Sincerelv  vours, 
LADY  MARGARET  TANKER- 
VILLE-CH  AM  BERLAY'NE 


LiiNt  Vwt«>rs 

Houpeslon,  Illinois 
Dear  Editors:  Election  Day — and 
there  we  sat !  We'd  heard  the  slogan, 
"Get  Out  the  X'otc";  we'd  been  be- 
sieged by  part\-  workers.  And  we 
wanted  to  vote,  but  we  couldn't.  The 
reason  ?  Merely  that  we,  like  thousands 
of  other  Americans,  moved  froin  one 
state  to  another  during  election  year. 

We  can  see  the  sense  in  not  voting  in 
state  elections:  one  certainly  ought  to 
be  acquainted  with  local  politics  first. 
But  we  hadn't  moved  out  of  America! 
We  n)iddn't  vote  by  absentee  ballot! 
We  felt  a  little  like  the  "  man  without  a 
country." 

What  can  be  done  to  make  it  possible 
for  all  loyal  Americans  to  participate  in 
national  elections?  Especially  those, 
like-  us.  w'ho  must  move  frequently?  My 
husband  is  a  clergyman.  He  has  not 
voted  for  a  President  since  1940.  In 
1944  we  had  just  moved  to  West  Vir- 
ginia; in  194.S  we  just  moved  to  New 
Y'ork  State;  in  1952,  to  Illinois.  What 
can  we  do  about  it  ?  We'd  like  to  know  ! 
Sincerely, 
MRS.  D0U(;LAS  ALAN  CLARK 

Riiitf  IK<'fi»ro  Ki.<<se.<4? 

Oak  Park,  Illinois 

My  Dear  Young  Lady:  About  188.S. 
the  Jot;RN.\i,  published  a  colunm  writ- 
ten Ijy  Ruth  Ashmore.  (I  heard  later 
that  Ruth  was  a  bearded  man  who 
chewed  tobacco,  as  all  virile  males  did.) 

Whoever — or  whatever — Ruth  was, 
she  "done  me  dirt."  Her  project  was  to 
protect  girls. 

The  rule  that  Ruth  laid  down,  nearly 
to  ruin  me,  was  that  no  girl  should 
ever  be  kissed  until  she  was  engaged  to 
the  boy  or  man. 

This  was  an  awful  inhibition  in  my 
teen-age  career,  for  I  was  biased  acutely 
toward  honorable  conduct.  The  wonder 
is  I  was  not  completely  frustrated. 
(Continued  on  Page  6) 


He'd  been  there  too! 


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you  had  ever  used!  Yes,  Ma'am!  Till  Tide 
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SO  MILD!  SO  SAFE! 

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No  need  to  blue!  All  by  itself.  Tide  gets  clothes 
dazzling  WHITE.  Next  washday,  rinse  out  a 
Tide  wash  — see  for  yourself! 


Hes/et  before.  Tide 
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NOTHlUe  EISE 
WILL  WASH  AS  CUM 

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{Continued  from  Page  4) 
Later,  after  serving  with  arms  in  the 
wars,  I  was  still  affected  by  Ruth's 
rule.  The  result  was  that  I  had  to  get 
engaged  before  I  could  kiss  girls.  Then 
there  was  the  problem  of  getting  out  of  it, 
for  some  girls  took  the  matter  as  serious.  I 
escaped  until  I  was  thirty-two  and  today  I 
am  worried  about  a  gift  subscription  for 
my  adult  daughter  so  she  too  may  keep  up 
with  the  times  and  the  Journal. 

Respectfully  submitted, 
OTTO  McFEELY 

►  Ruth  Ashmore,  originally  Editor  Bok, 
ivas  Mrs.  Isabel  Mallon.  ED. 

Tim*'  (o  Brii.sli 

Fort  Worth,  Texas 
Dear  Editors :  When  a  patient  asks  my 
dentist-husband  how  soon  a  child  should 
begin  having  his  teeth  brushed,  this  photo- 
graph of  one  of  our  sons  is  sometimes  pro- 
duced. Which  is,  of  course,  to  say,  "When 
your  child  acquires,  not  ten  or  twelve  or 


(>pen  wide! 

even  four  or  five,  but  one  tooth — then  the 
time  has  arrived  to  start  using  a  tooth- 
brush in  his  mouth." 

How  I  wish  I  might  report  to  parents  of 
young  children  everywhere:  If  you  value 
your  child's  health  and  appearance,  then 
you  must  brush  his  teeth  thoroughly 
(don't  trust  him  to  do  it!)  every  day. 
Yours  for  clean  little  mouths, 

NELSIE  JAYNE  CHUMLEA 

Mnrrintf«'  <»r  Caro«>r 

Cambridge,  Massachusetts 
Dear  Editors:  For  many  years  I  have 
favored  your  interest  in  the  human  side.  I 
am  writing  to  see  if  out  of  your  vast  expe- 
rience you  can  give  the  answer  to  a  problem 
that  seems  common  with  many  college  girls 
who  have  the  choice  of  marriage  or  a 
career.  Why  are  we  so  afraid  of  getting 
married  ? 

For  the  past  three  years  we  have  read 
articles,  heard  radio  programs,  assimilated 
statistics  on  broken  marriages,  unhappy 
homes,  psychoneurotic  children  and  di- 
vorce cases.  We  cannot  help  but  wonder  if 
this  is  to  be  our  fate  too. 

We  are  to  enter  a  world  full  of  anxiety, 
war  and  neurotic  influences.  As  much  as 
we  ma>'  desire  the  men  we  love,  we  still  are 
not  sure  that  we  would  ha\'e  the  power  to 
hold  a  home  together  and  bring  up  a  fam- 
ily of  balanced,  happy  and  responsible 
children.  We  have  had  psychology  and 
sociology  pounded  into  our  heads  since  we 
began  our  education.  We  have  learned  the 
value  of  getting  along  with  ourselves  as 
well  as  others,  but  we  realize  that  in  to- 
day's society  it  takes  more  than  two  peo- 
ple, money  and  minimum  security  to  build 
an  enduring  home. 

It  is  not  always  that  we  have  these 
doubts.  There  are  always  moments  filled 
with  the  genuine  conviction  that  two  peo- 
ple meant  for  each  other  can  overcome  any 
and  all  obstacles.  Many  of  us  ha\'e  not 
found  the  man  of  our  life.  These  doubts 
leave  us  in  no  hurry  and  also  leave  within 
us  the  question  of  the  desirability  of  find- 
ing that  man. 

This  is  only  a  brief  resume  of  what  we 
are  thinking.  We  wonder  if  we  are  alone. 

Sincerely, 
(NAME  WITHHELD) 
(Continued  on  Page  8) 


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(Conliiiued  from  Page  6) 
\Vi(«»  in  Ev«»ry  Port 

Norfolk,  Virginia 

Dear  Editors:  There  was  a  lot  of  blue 
water  between  Jack  and  me  last  year,  but 
self-pity  is  deadly  and  we  combated  it  by 
grabbing  the  Navy  by  the  tail  and  swing- 
ing it  around  our  heads. 

Last  January  we  faced  another  turn 
with  the  6th  Fleet,  so  I  weighed  the  facts, 
caught  the  Constitution  (tourist  class)  and 
was  in  Naples  to  meet  my  husband  with 
his  two  sons,  by  now  three  and  five,  when 
he  arrived. 

The  boys  were  quarantined  the  whole 
trip  with  chicken  pox.  They  got  to  use 
their  legs  on  those  four  daj's  of  leave  we 
had  in  Rome. 

Wc  went  to  Florence  alone  and  waited 
there  for  the  ships  to  move  up  to  Livorno. 
There  we  had  a  week  end  with  Jack  and 
nine  days  on  our  own  to  roam  aroimd  the 
citv. 


Sons  of  the  Navy, 

We  had  days  at  the  cathedral,  the  Si- 
gnoria,  the  Pitti  Palace  and  the  Santa 
Croce.  David  and  Paul  saw  more  churches 
last  winter  than  the  average  person  sees 
in  a  lifetime. 

Two  little  boys  with  zippered  toy  bags 
in  hand  and  a  harried  mother  with  three 
suitcases  arrived  in  Alassio,  on  the  Italian 
Riviera,  to  spend  the  month  that  the  ships 
were  in  joint  maneuvers  with  the  Italian, 
French  and  British  fleets.  The  boys  played 
for  a  week  with  Luigi  from  Milano,  en- 
thralled though  they  understood  not  a 
word. 

The  month  of  March  my  three-  and  five- 
year-old  dug  in  the  sand  in  front  of  the 
Motel  Carleton  at  Cannes.  We  cooked  on  a 
hot  plate  in  the  bathroom  and  washed 
di.shes  in  the  sink.  There  on  the  Riviera  we 
had  tweh  e  days  with  Jack  to  see  Monte 
Carlo,  Nice,  Cannes,  Gras.se,  the  casinos 
and  the  ]joodles. 

We  divided  the  month  of  April  between 
Barcelona  and  Palma  de  Mallorca,  and  in 
May  we  were  in  Norfolk  to  greet  the  home- 
coming squadron. 

It  was  the  vogue  during  the  past  war  to 
talk  cutely  of  "the  trade-school  boys." 
This  time  we  have  livetl  and  Jack  has 
worked  with  these  professional  oflicers 
with  great  satisfaction.  We  would  like  to 
say  to  them  and  their  splendid  wives — 
Cdad  to  have  been  aboard. 

Very  trulv  yours, 

RUTH  B.  SPOONER 

IntfroNt  of  UeaKh 

Federal  Seci  ritv  .•\ge.ncv 
Food  and  Drug  Administration 

IVasliiitglon.  D.C. 
Dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gould:  I  have  just 
read  the  article,  Lifesaving  Drugs  Can 
Harm  You,  by  Mr.  William  L.  Laurence, 
in  the  January  issue  of  the  Journal  and 
wish  to  congratulate  you  on  publishing  a 
distinguished  piece  of  reporting  in  the  in- 
terest of  health. 

This  article  is  reminiscent  of  the  great 
publishing  of  Edward  Bok. 

Mr.  Laurence  has  said  something  that 
much  needed  to  be  said,  and  you  brought 
it  to  the  attention  of  millions  of  readers 
who  can  benefit  from  the  information  he 
has  obtained  from  informed  authorities. 

Sincerely, 
C.  W.  CRAWFORD 
Commissioner  of  Fond  and  Drugs 


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"  I  iiiIdiiwiii  ,"  lilliiiftrii/ih  //)  I'lillir  l.iiiiiir.  iiIid  m  rrfirt-vnlnl  in  ihr  l(>Kf( 

Miisi-iiin  aiitl  (lily  i>/  Cliiaipii  < ollriliimn.  Thr  sirnr  is  thr  (Iniuulinn  tillii/fr  on 
ihrSl.  I.nirrrnri-  Hii  rriil  ihr  miitilh  iij  llu-  Siif(iiriitiY.  (Jrif(intil  lithiiffriiph,  1 1'  x  l4'/i', 
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AV'VVAi  llic  liberation  of  France,  an  unusual 
L  rclifjious  ceremony  look  place  in  a  great 
synagogue  in  Paris.  While  a  large  congrega- 
tion oi  Orthodox  Jews  wept  aloud,  the  cantor 
recited  a  llehrew  prayer  for  liie  dead  for  the 
soul  of  a  Russian  nun  named  Maria. 

The  daughter  of  a  well-known  aristocratic 
family,  Maria  fled  to  Paris  when  the  Bolsheviks 
came  into  power.  She  became  a  nun  and  made 
an  abandoned  old  house  into  an  asylum  for  the 
homeless.  After  the  (Germans  occupied  France, 
her  house  became  a  center  for  refugees  whom 
she  fed,  clothed  and  hid  from  the  Nazis.  For 
this  she  was  arrested  in  1941.  When  asked 
whether  she  had  helped  Jews,  she  replied, 
"Yes,  I  am  proud  that  among  those  I  have 
helped  were  also  Jews." 

She  was  sent  to  the  concentration  camp  at 
Ravensbruck.  Here  she  displayed  the  same 
spirit  of  complete  self-sacrifice — tending  the 
sick,  comforting  those  who  had  lost  all  hope. 
A  grief-stricken,  desperate  Jewish  woman, 
about  to  be  sent  with  a  group  to  be  burned  in 
a  crematorium,  said  to  her,  "It  is  easy  for  you 
to  speak  as  you  do.  You  are  not  a  Jew.  If  you 
were  in  my  place,  you  would  talk  differently." 

"I  shall  take  your  place,"  Mother  Maria  said. 
And  she  did  and  died  together  with  those  whom 
she  had  helped  all  her  life. 

Mother  Maria  is  one  of  many  Christians  who 
helped  European  Jews  to  escape  capture  and 
death  during  the  Second  World  War.  Many 
thousands  of  Christian  people  of  every  walk  of 
life,  of  every  nationality  and  social  position, 
risked  their  liberty  and  often  their  lives  to  help. 
In  that  great  drama  of  peril  and  rescue,  the 
part  played  by  Christians  like  Mother  Maria 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  those  of  the  Jew- 
ish faith.   WILLIAM  ZUKERMAN 


I  KKMEMHER  vividly  a  moiTicrit  in  my  cliildliood  as  an  event  of  more 
than  passing  importance. 

Every  morning  before  breakfast  we  assembled  in  the  sitting  room  aiKLmy  father 
read  a  passage  from  the  Bible,  followed  by  a  prayer.  These  family  prayers  did  not 
appeal  to  me  as  a  child  hungry  for  her  breakfast,  an  absent-minded  child,  too, 
whose  thoughts  were  usually  woolgathering.  But  on  this  particular  morning  my 
father  started  to  read  the  book  of  Job.  The  dramatic  story  caught  my  attention, 
and  when  he  would  have  closed  the  book,  I  begged  him  to  read  on,  so  his  voice 
conveyed — doubtless  with  many  skippings — the  tale  of  Job's  temptations,  trust 
and  woes.  But  somewhere,  as  my  father  read,  I  became  excitedly  aware  of  some- 
thing more  than  the  story:  of  the  beauty  and  glory  of  words;  of  the  images  they 
can  evoke  and  the  thoughts  they  can  enkindle.  In  short,  on  that  morning.  I  dis- 
covered for  the  first  time  inspired  literature. 

Why  1  should  first  have  foiiiui  il  in  ihc  book  of  Job  1  do  not  know,  for  I  had 
been  exposed,  practically  from  infancy,  to  great  passages  of  the  Bible  and  of  the 
English  classics  read  aloud.  I  suppose  my  mind  had  become  ripe  to  begin  to  re- 
ceive what  it  had  hitherto  ignored.  Certainly  1  did  not  understand  a  tenth  of  what 
1  was  hearing,  but  1  understood  enough  to  make  me  want  to  know  more,  and  the 
magnificent  cadences,  the  pictures  of  all  manner  of  living  things.  Job's  majestic 
descriptions  of  God — a  God  so  close  and  real  that  he  argued  w  ith  Him — were  not 
lost  on  my  childish  ears  and  limited  understanding. 

Since  that  time  I  have  been  a  constant  reader  of  the  Bible,  and  especially  of 
some  parts  of  it — Ezekiel  and  Job,  Isaiah,  Amos,  Micah,  (Continued  on  Page  I4i 


Executive  Editor,  Mary  Bass  •  Maiiauing  Editor.  Laura  Lx>u  Brookman 
A         ,      ,  ,       u    u  Mo^M^ir  Kahlpr  Bprnardine  Kielty,  Ann  Batchelder,  Wilhela  Cushman.  William  E.  Fink.  Richard  Prall.  Henrietta  Murdock.  Louella  G.  Shouer.  Mary  Lea  Page, 
Assoe,ote  Editors:  Hugh  ^^^<=Na»^  Kahter  Berna^^^  Davidson.  Nora  O'Lcary,  Barbara  Benson,  Glenn  Matthew  White.  Donald  Stuart.  Ruth  Imler 

Cn^.irihutinP  Editors  - Gladys  Taber.  Louise  Paine  Benjamin.  Gladys  Denny  Shultz.  Margaret  Hickey.  Betty  Kidd.  Ruth  Mills  Teague 
^       •  ,      ilh„  Wprner  Ch^  Ruth  Mary  Packard.  Ruth  Shapley  Matthews.  Al.ce  Conkling,  Joseph  Di  Pietro.  Anne  Einselen.  Betty  Niles  Gray. 

EdUortal  Associates:  John  Werner.  Charlotte  jonnson.         g,,^^^^^^  Goetsch.  Nancy  Crawford.  Cynthia  McAdoo 

.      ,    ,ir,  ,     .  r-h,rlP<s  Strvker  Ineerman  Victoria  Harris.  Virginia  Carr.  Rosemary  Jones.  Nelle  Keys  Perry,  Peter  Briggs.  Alice  Kastberg,  Adrirm  Casparian, 
Assistant  Editors.  Charles  Marion  Wilson.  Janice  H.  Bauder.  Dorothy  Anne  Robinson.  Jean  Todd  Freeman 


Editor 


iat  Assistants  -  Lee  Stowell  Cullen,  Dolores  Knapp.  Patricia  Martin,  Aileen  Dowd,  June  Schwartz.  Gretchen  Wehler.  Babette  Brimberg 


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March,  195:: 


SUPER 
COLOR 
RINSE 


(Continued  from  Page  11) 
Jeremiah,  Ecclesiastes,  the  Psalms  and 
all  of  the  New  Testament— and  from  much 
reading  and  rereading,  many  passages  and  a 
few  whole  chapters  I  know  by  heart. 

It  was  therefore  with  immense  interest 
and  anticipation  that  I  picked  up  the  new 
"Standard  Revised  Version"  issued  last 
fall  and  authorized  by  the  National  Coun- 
cil of  Churches  of  Christ  in  the  U.S.A., 
which  sponsored  it.  This  new  English,  or 
American,  Bible  will,  if  the  council  can  so 
persuade  the  churches  affiliated  with  it, 
replace  the  King  James  version  issued  in 
1611  and  the  American  Standard  version 
of  1901  for  use  in  their  pulpits,  pews  and 
Sunday  schools.  Among  National  Council 
churches  it  is  being  vigorously  promoted  in 
innumerable  meetings  and  rallies. 

It  is  the  work  of  thirty-two  of  the  fore- 
most American  Biblical  scholars,  headed 
by  Luther  A.  Weigle,  of  Yale  University, 
who  have  been  at  the  task  since  1937;  it 
has  been  reviewed  by  a  council  of  co-oper- 
ating denominations;  and  it  has  been  so 
successfully  promoted  by  its  sponsors  that 
it  has  overtopped  the  sale  of  any  new  book 
in  American  history  and  one  must  be  put 
on  a  waiting  list  to  obtain  a  copy. 

The  object  of  issuing  this  new  version, 
which  contains  far  more  radical  changes 
than  the  revision  of  1901,  is  to  replace 
words  that  have  changed  in  meaning,  or 
been  lost  to  current  use,  with  the  language 
of  today  while  "preserving  the  beauty  and 
simplicity  of  the  King  James  version,"  It 
must  be  judged  by  whether  it  accomplishes 
this.  It  has  already  created  a  considerable 
controversy,  particularly 
among  the  more  funda- 
mentalist sects,  not  all 
of  whose  criticisms  I 
share. 

I  do  not  believe  that 
every  dot,  comma  and 
phrase  of  the  King  James 
version  is  sacrosanct. 
How,  indeed,  could  they 
be?  The  original  Bible,  Old  and  New  Testa- 
ments, was  written  by  many  teachers, 
prophets,  philosophers,  bards  or  historians 
over  a  period  of  some  900  years  before  and 
after  Christ,  some  of  it  probably  recited, 
as  folk  poetry  or  folk  tales,  and  recorded 
much  later  than  the  first  words  were  ut- 
tered. Originally  written  in  Hebrew,  Ara- 
maic and  Greek,  it  has  undergone  many 
translations,  and  no  translation,  if  it  be  a 
great  and  fine  one,  is  ever  exactly  literal. 
It  has  had  numerous  translations  even  into 
English,  where  it  did  not  make  its  earliest 
European  appearance.  The  first  of  these 
English  versions  were  in  manuscript,  not 
printed  form,  and  were  all  translations  from 
the  Latin  Vulgate,  itself  a  translation,  and 
the  earliest  of  them,  which  appeared  in  the 
seventh  century,  is  largely  incomprehen- 
sible today  by  anyone  not  a  scholar  of  early 
English— far  harder  to  understand  than 
Chaucer,  who  wrote  several  centuries  later. 

The  King  James  version  had.  during  less 
than  a  century,  three  printed  predecessors, 
one  of  which,  the  version  of  William  Tyn- 
dale,  was  translated  directly  from  the 
Hebrew  and  Greek,  appearing  almost  con- 
temporaneously with  Martin  Luther's  great 
translation  into  German.  Tyndale's  was  a 
noble  work,  for  which  its  writer  paid  with 
his  life,  but  in  the  King  James  version  the 
work  was  started  all  over  again.  This,  the 
King  James,  was  the  first  version  author- 
ized, by  ecclesiastical  and  state  authorities, 
for  public  and  church  use. 

The  King  James  version  has  chapter  and 
verse  forms  that  appear  arbitrary  and  con- 
fusing, and  punctuation — especially  a 
plethora  of  commas,  colons  and  semi- 
colons—that holds  up  rather  than  guides 
the  reader.  Passages  of  poetry  in  scan- 
nable  verse  are  printed  as  prose.  Passages 
which  clearly  belong  together  are  broken 
into  separate  chapters  for  no  discernible 
reason.  And  the  chronology  of  events  is  not 
always  accurate,  according  to  later  re- 
searchers. 

For  this  reason  I  welcomed  "The  Bible 
designed  to  be  read  as  Living  Literature" 


A  good  man  if  the  ripe 
fruit  the  earth  holds  up  to 

God.  —JOHN  MILTON 


when  it  appeared  in  1936,  as  arranged  and 
edited  by  Ernest  Sutherland  Bates.  Al- 
though not  the  whole  Bible,  it  is  the  noblesl 
part  of  it,  and  it  is  so  printed,  arranged 
and  classified  into  sections  as  to  carry 
along  the  eye  and  mind  and  not  interrupt 
and  divert  them.  But  this  Bible  is  in  the 
exact  words  of  the  King  James  version  ex- 
cept for  a  minority  of  chapters  where  the 
revision  of  1901  is  preferred.  Passages 
clearly  verse  are  so  printed. 

In  the  new  Bible  which  we  are  here  dis- 
cussing, verse  passages  are  also  put  in  a 
verse  form  of  printing,  but  it  is,  to  my  eye 
and  mind,  an  extremely  awkward  form, 
neither  quite  poetry  nor  prose,  while  the 
rhythms  of  the  King  James  version  a« 
badly  marred  by  modernizing  the  speech, 

The  men  in  the  reign  of  King  James  whc 
produced  the  great  Bible  were  a  large  bodj 
of  the  greatest  scholars  of  the  period.  They 
were  headed  by  the  greatest  of  them  all 
Doctor  Andrewes,  later  Bishop  of  Witt 
Chester,  who  was  equally  at  home  it 
Hebrew,  Chaldean,  Syriac  and  Greek.  Th( 
fidelity  of  their  text  to  the  original  hai 
never  since  been  successfully  challenged 
and  its  beauty  makes  it  the  greatest  monu 
ment  of  the  English  language,  as  Martii 
Luther's  Bible  is  of  the  German.  It  ap 
peared  in  an  age  when  the  Reformatioi 
was  revitalizing  the  religious  sense  of  th( 
people;  in  an  age  when  men  had  gone  t( 
the  block  for  the  right  to  print  and  read  th 
Bible;  it  coincided  with  the  English  renais 
sance  that  produced  Shakespeare;  it  wai 
written  when  the  English  language  wai 
most  vivid  and  virilsj 
All  these  factors  com 
bined  to  produce  th( 
clarity,  simplicity,  pas 
sion,  beauty  and  majestj 
of  the  King  James  Bibli 
which  has  outlasted  al 
subsequent  revisions. 

Therefore,  whoeve; 
takes  up  this  master 
piece  with  a  view  to  "bringing  it  up  t( 
date"  or  "putting  it  into  modern  Ian 
guage"  is,  apart  from  theological  consider 
ations.  running  the  same  risks  that  wouh 
face  anyone  who  sat  down  to  rewrib 
Hamlet  or  King  Lear  or  any  other  creatioi 
of  a  writer  or  writers  of  genius,  the  more  S( 
because  the  English  Bible,  like  others,  ha 
contributed  its  phraseology  and  figures  o 
speech  to  the  language,  and  therefore 
though  archaic,  is  ever-living.  The  Kiiv 
James  version  has  also,  in  parts,  been  pu 
to  music— in  the  great  oratorios  and  ii 
Protestant  hymns.  We  no  longer  sa; 
"liveth."  But  we  sing,  "1  know  that  m; 
Redeemer  liveth,"  and  we  cannot  substi 
tute  "lives"  without  losing  a  beat  of  th 
music.  And  apart  from  musical  accompani 
ment,  this  matter  of  beat,  cadence,  the  ris 
and  fall  of  sentences,  is  part  of  the  magi 
of  poetry  or  prose,  contributing  to  it 
evocative  character,  its  overtones  an( 
undertones,  its  symphonic  style,  whic! 
greatly  distinguishes  the  familiar  Bible. 

I  have  tried  to  read  the  new  Bible  witl 
an  open  mind,  and  without  prejudice,  in 
deed  with  humility  and  with  respect  fo 
so  great  an  effort.  Perhaps  this  is  not  en  I 
tirely  possible  for  one  so  wedded  to  a  fa 
miliar  text.  But  I  am  compelled  to  say  tha 
I  find  the  new  text  inferior  on  nearly  ever; 
page  to  the  one  it  seeks  to  supplant,  am 
for  reasons  that  I  think  I  can  define.  It  i 
weaker,  less  vivid,  defective  in  imagery,  les 
beautiful,  and  less  inspired.  And  I,  at  least 
do  not  find  it  easier  to  understand. 

As  an  example  of  the  weakening  of  th 
old  text,  take  the  42nd  Psalm : 

"  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks 
So  panteth  my  soul  after  thee,  0  God. 
My  soul  thirsteth  for  God,  for  the  livin 
God  .  .  ." 

In  the  new  version  we  read: 

"As  the  liart  longs  for  flowing  streams 
So  longs  my  soul  for  thee,  0  God. 
My  soul  thirsts  for  God,  for  the  living 
God  .  .  ." 

(Continued  on  Page  203) 


\ 


I  li<>  in>l;iiil  \  (HI  vinoolli  il  on.  \on 
look  aiul  fVrl  |>oivc«|.  cfx)!  .  .  .  iiior«- 
adorahlv  IoxcIn.  I  tn-  (!i«  tiH-  I'lid 
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March,  J( 

FROM  THE  N.  Y.  TIMES  BOOK  REVIEW  ' 


'I  read  the  most  exciting  hook  last  night." 


Bv  BERNARDINE  KIELTY 


\  T  ARLENE  DIETRICH  is  said  to  I.e 
-'-L  as  forthrifuht  as  she  is  charming. 
\^  heii  we've  seen  her  in  the  aiidienee 
at  a  N»'W  ^  ork  theater,  as  has  liap- 
peiied  several  limes,  slie  lias  heen  the 
e>  iiosiire  of  all  eyes  —  jeweled  little 
hat  on  soil  hloiul  <-iirls.  lovel>  furs. 
slink>  l>hi<-k  dress.  Iieaiitifid.  alluring:, 
elusive.  Itiil  when  she  works  it's  tlif- 
ferenl . 

During  the  war,  as  Hollywood  col- 
umnist llt'ilila  Hopper  tells  in  l"M»ER 
Mv  Ha  t.  Marlene  Dietrich  worked  in 
a  Hollywood  canteen  washing  dishes. 
There  she  wore  no  jewels  and  no  fine 
raiment. 

One  evening,  according,  to  H.H.,  an- 
other star,  escorted  by  three  press  agents 
and  her  husband,  came  into  the  canteen 
kitchen  where  Marlene  was  working,  and 
itanled  to  tic  photographed  washingdishes. 
"May  I  borrow  your  apron,  darling?" 
she  asked  Marlene,  untying  it  as  she 
spoke.  Then,  pushing  Dietrich  aside,  she 


took  off  her  long  white  gloves  and  plunged 
her  hands  into  the  sink  so  the  photogra- 
pher could  get  his  shot.  Marlene  stood 
watching,  hands  on  hips.  When  the  flash 
bulbs  popped,  she  drew  back  her  hand 
a)id  let  the  star  have  it  right  in  the  jace. 
Then  without  a  word  she  went  back  to  her 
chore  with  the  dishes. 


Here  are  some  other  hooks  that 
%ve*ve  come  across  the  past  month: 

Toward  international  understanding: 

FiVK     (iKMLKMKN     OF    JAPAN,  by 

Frank  (iibney.  Modern  Japan  through 
the  eyes  of  the  Emperor,  a  retired 
admiral,  a  farmer,  a  journalist  and  a 
steelworker.  .  .  .  Also  The  Shadow 
OF  Sl'\LfN<;RAI).  by  Heinrich  von 
luiiaeidel,  air-pilot  grandson  of  Bis- 
marck, who  was  shot  down  over  Stalin- 
grad, imprisoned,  and  later  indoctri- 
nated as  a  communist,  among  many 
(Conlinui'il  on  Page  18) 


INTKRNATIOVAL  NEWS 


t 


Gen.  -Maxwell  I'.  Taylor  presents  Marlene  Dietrich  with  the 
Medal  for  Freedom  in  recognition  of  her  work  during  the  war. 


•  #  ®  •  •  4h 


lis  Spring  '"Thf  Nnv  in  Shoes" 
stars  Cosmetic  Kid  Leather 


"  Y^    wear  it  oil  yout  feet,  in  beautiful,  gentle,  breathing  sliocs  .  .  .  ami  its 
loveliness  is  reflected  in  your  face.  Cosiuotic  Kid  Leather  is  beautiful,  soft  and  lovely  as 
vour  own  skin  — in  fascinating  textures:  satin  sracoth,  crushed  and  velvet  suede. 
Shoe  at  top.  naturauzer  -  Center  shoe,  vitality  -  Jjiwer  left,  red  cross  shoe. 


/I 


^'C^Sl/  —keeps  baby  skin 
~~    softer,  smoother! 


-gives  baby  wonderful  new 
protection  against  rashes! 


—  checks  diaper  odor,  keeps 
baby  fresh  and  sweet! 


Smooth  baby's  body  all  over  with  soothing, 
snow-white  Johnson's  Baby  Lotion  after 
every  bath.  Apply  at  diaper  changes,  too. 
Give  ymr  baby  this  wonderful  skin  care! 


THE  LOTION  OF  LOVELY  BABIES 

JOHNSON'S  BABY  LOTION 


(ConlhiurtI  from  Page  16) 
other  German  prisoners,  in  Moscow.  He 
returned  to  East  Germany  a  commu- 
nist, visited  his  mother  in  West  Ger- 
many, and  resigned  from  the  party. 
Critical  of  both  the  East  and  the  West, 
educated,  thoughtful  and  articulate,  he 
represents  the  disastrous  confusion  of 
young  Germany. 

For  entertainment,  three  novels:  The 
IIi<;h  and  Mighty,  by  Errwst  Gann, 

probably  the  most  dramatic  story  of 
the  season,  about  a  passenger  flight 
from  Hawaii  to  California.  You'll  have 
to  take  our  word  for  it !  ...  I  and  My 
Tri  e  Love,  by  Helen  Mar  Innes,  one 
of  her  very  best,  laid  in  Washington. 
A  romantic  love  story  with  espionage 
complications.  .  .  .This  Heart.  This 
Hi  inter,  by  Hallie  Burnett,  about  a 
seventeen- year-old  campus  beauty  who 
becomes  a  woman  overnight.  The  book 
tellb  the  story  of  what  happens  when  a 
girl  disregards  the  guarded  advice  of  her 
tactful  parents,  who  in  their  turn  would 
have  been  far  wiser  to  make  their  ad- 
vice less  guarded  and  less  tactful. 

For  the  housebuilder :  82  Distino 
TIVE  Houses  from  .Architectural  Rec- 
ord. Photographs  with  fioor  plans,  site 
plans  and  drawings  of  structural  ele- 


'Building  thr  h(»ii.se  came  to  a 
little  more  than  we  expected."' 


ments.  Wonderful  book,  a  young  man, 
prospective  builder  of  his  own  house, 
tells  us.  Not  a  traditional  one  among 
them,  he  says. 

For  girls  and  grandmas:  Number 
Knitting,  by  f  irginia  Woods  Bel- 
lamy. This  is  a  method  of  design  which 
uses  very  little  wool  and  reduces  the  ex- 
pense by  about  one  third.  It  is  knitting 
by  units — squares,  triangles,  rectangles, 
picked  up  from  one  another,  that  will 
stretch  in  any  direction  and  yet  pull 
back  by  themselves  into  shape.  The 
imits  are  made  of  a  looser  stitch  than 
ordinary,  and  therefore  require  less  time 
as  well  as  less  yarn. 

For  the  boys,  young  and  old:  Mr. 
WIZARD'S  Science  Secrets,  by  Don 
Herbert,  who  explains  the  experiments 
he  does  on  the  Mr.  Wizard  TV  show. . . . 
What  You  Should  Know  .\bout 
Television,  by  Jacob  H.  Ruiter,  Jr. 
Useful  pamphlet  for  the  layman  of 
either  sex  who  potters. 


Whether  you  know  it  or  not,  you 
have  an  "appcstat."  It  is  located  in  the 
head  of  the  hyiM)thalamus,  which  is 
(we  quote)  "a  stalk  projecting  from 
the  lower  surface  of  the  brain." 
(Continued  on  Page  20) 


you  put  the 
into  Easter  with! 


for  boys  and  g'irls 


1q 


In  Step  Master  Special  Featun 
Shoes,  quarter  linings  are  smooth 
one-piece  leather — perforated  t(h 
keep  little  feet  fresh  and  comfy.  N( 
back  seams,  top  bands  or  ridges  t(  i 
chafe  ankles,  rub  holes  in  sox.  Built  1^ 
in  Arch  Protectors  give  a  gentle  lift  4 


Party,  casual 
and  play 
shoes. 


'He-man 
styles 

just  like  dad's 


The  comfort, 
flexibility  and 
smartness  in 
Step  Master 
Shoes  belie 
their  low  cost. 


MOST  STYLES 


ACCORDING  TO 


STEP  MASTER  SHOES  INC.,  GREENUP,  ILL 


/ 


New  ScotTissue  is  softer  than  ever  for  baby's  thinner  sk 


Softer! Still  Softer!  ^ 


Papermaking  science  now  brings  you 
new  ScotTissue  that  is  softer  than  ever- 
whiter,  with  greater  body . . . 
af  no  increase  in  price 


:ott's  revolutionary  new  "water-weav- 
)"  process  brings  you  and  your  family 
s  great  increase  in  softness.  Only  Scott 
ikes  a  tissue  this  way. 
Whiter,  too!  The  new  ScotTissue  is 
ide  only  with  pure  "white"  pulp.  You  will 
d  that,  more  than  ever,  ScotTissue  is  ideal 

■  baby's  tender  skin,  perfect  for  every 
imber  of  the  family  too! 

This  new  improved  tissue  is  now  on  sale 
your  grocer's.  It  is  another  great  Scott 
per  value  and  is  going  to  be  more  pop- 
ir  than  ever.  Be  sure  you  get  a  supply 

■  your  family  now! 


The  new  ScotTissue  is  so  soft,  yet  quickly,  cleanly  ab- 
sorbent, with  the  firm  strength  you  wont  to  prevent 

tearing  or  shredding.  "ScotTissue"  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Oft 


1,000  sheets— over  V2  more 
than  the  650  sheets  you  get 
from  most  other  brands 

1,000  Sheets  fo  a  roll! 

2  rolls  of  ScotTissue  give  you  more  sheets 
than  3  rolls  of  most  other  brands 


Take  a  Tip 
From  America's 
Discriminaling 
Women! 


MRS.  HARRY  CONOVER 

Renowned  Model  and 
Television  Personality 


MRS.  DENNIS  DAY 

Famous  Radio  and  TV 
Singing  Star's  Wife 


AMY  VANDERBILT 

Noted  New  Yorker  and 
Etiquette  Authority 


Blue  Bonnet 
Margarine  Gives  You 

Most  forlbur  Money 

IN  FIAVOR!  NUTRITION!  ECONOMY! 


Bcognize  the  well-known  names  above? 
lese  discriminating  women  can  afford 
pay  for  the  finest  foods.  But  they  buy 
:>UE  Bonnet  Margarine  because  they 
efer  it  for  flavor  and  nutrition!  That's 
ly  they  say  Blue  Bonnet  Margarine 
^'es  most  for  their  money! 
You,  too,  will  love  Blue 
3NNet's  flavor!  Its  uniform, 
nny-sweet  goodness  makes  any 
od  taste  better!  You'll  appre- 
ite  its  nutrition!  Unlike  most 
her  margarines.  Blue  Bonnet 
ntains  both  Vitamins  A  and  D 
as  much  year-round  Vitamin  A 

America's  Women  Serve  « 
More  Blue  Bonnet  Than 
Any  Other  Brand 
Of  Margarine 


and  Vitamin  D  as  you  get  in  the  high- 
priced  spread  for  bread!  What's  more, 
you  get  this  wonderful  flavor  and  nutrition 
with  real  economy!  One  pound  of  Blue 
Bonnet  Margarine  costs  less  than  half 
as  much  as  a  pound  of  high-priced  spread. 


Guaranteed  by  ^ 
I  Good  Housekeeping  , 


"Bui)  Blue  Bonnet  - 
Be  Sure  of  >!ltt3" 


(Continued  from  Page  18) 
Theappestat  works  like  a  thermostat 
and  controls  the  appetite,  hence  its 
name,  which  was  made  up  by  Dr.  Nor- 
man JoUiffe,  author  of  Rkduce  and 
Stay  Reducei). 

Jf  liirli,  perversely,  briufss  us  to 
cook-books. 

Viennese  Cooking,  by  O.  and  A. 
Iless,  is  luscious — with  Ischl  tarts, 
Linzer  cake,  Striidel,  Dobostorte, 
Pischinger-Torte,  Sacher-Torte  (all  a 
long  cry  from  the  apple  pie  we  were 
brought  up  on!)  and  twelves  pages  of 
how  to  cook  veal. 

Lu<:iiows  German  Cookbook, 
by  Leonard  Jan  Mitchell,  is  nostalgic 
besides  everything  else.  After  seventy 
years,  Liichow's  still  stands  on  14th 
Street  (N.Y.),  its  little  string  orchestra 
still  playing  waltzes,  the  Bohemian 
gouimets'  paradise  of  old  — among  its 
former  patrons  were  President  Teddy 
Roosevelt,  William  Allen  White.  Walter 
Damrosch,  John  Barrymore,  Pavlova. 
Lillian  Russell— and  the  gourmets' 
haven  still,  with  Toscanini,  Traubel. 
Rodgers,  Cole  Porter,  Irving  Berlin, 
Roz  (instead  of  Lillian)  Russell,  Tom 
Costain.  John  Marquand,  Ken  Roberts 
all  eating  there. 

The  Casserole  Cookbook,  by 
John  and  Marie  Roberson,  offers 
the  one-dish  prepared-ahead  meal  that 
the  career  woman,  the  working  girl  and 
the  mother  of  nine  need  to  know.  .  .  . 
Our  mouth  still  waters,  although  we 
read  it  some  time  ago. 


Before  leaving  food  entirely.  .  .  .  A 
friend  of  ours  was  telling  some  visitors  on 
the  night  before  Thanksgiving  that  she  and 
her  husband  had  decided  they'd  not  Imve 
Thanksgiving  dinner  at  home.  They'd  go 


MERRY  MENAGERIE,  BY  WALT  DISNEY. 
REPRINTED  THROUGH  THE  COURTESY  OF 
WALT  DISNEY  PRODUCTIONS  AND 
KING  FKATURES  SYNDICATE  INC. 


"She  says  she  just  wants  to 
coiTie  in  and  swing  awhile!' 


out.  It  was  easier.  No  mess.  No  dishes. 
No  garbage.  Throughout  the  remarks  her 
cat  sat  looking  at  her  attentively.  Next 
day— Thanksgiving  Day— the  cat  disap- 
peared and  has  never  returned.  Once  our 
friend  saw  him.  but  the  cat  crossed  to  the 
other  side  of  the  street. 


We  had  quite  an  experience  the  other 
night.  Arriving  at  a  friend's  apartment 
for  dinner,  we  were  greeted  at  the  door 
by  our  host  who  whispered  hastily 
that  So-and-so  was  in  the  room.  Per- 
haps it  would  have  excited  us  as  much 
to  hear  that  Eisenhower  or  Toscanini  or 
the  young  Queen  Elizabeth  was  there,  but 
not  more.  The  person  we  met  was  Greta 
(Continued  on  Page  ZZ) 


How  to  make 


LENTEN  DISHESil 

for  a  MAN! 


You  add  new  vnriety,  new  good- 
ness to  meatless  dishes  .  .  .  when 
you  add  Lea  &  Perrins  Worcester- 
shire Sauce!  Surveys  prove  what 
famous  chefs  have  always 
known:  this  century-old  favorite 
brings  out  that  subtle  exfra  flavor 
men  love.  And  smart  women  re- 
member it! 

Keep  your  man  happy.  Keep  a 
bottle  of  Lea  &  Perrins  handy 
in  the  kitchen  for  cooking, 
another  on  the  table  for  him  .  .  . 
and  you  will  enjoy: 

FISH  with  richer  robust  flavor! 
SOUP  with  deep-down  goodnessi 
SALAD  heartier,  more  satisfying! 
MACARONI  lesty,  appealing! 

CHEESE    DISHES  that  are 

zippier  and  extra-good! 


SALT  &  PEPPER  ARE  NOT 
ENOUGH-ADD 


NEW  ^^o'^'k' FREE! 

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•  168  easy,  favorite  recipes 

•  84  "Good  Go-Togethers" 
to  simplify  meal  planning 

•  7  pages  illustrated  Carving 
Lessons 

Write  LEA  &  PERRINS,  Inc. 
241  West  St.,  N.Y.,  Dept.  J-3 


\fow!  A  smarter  way  to  boil  brew  simmer,  or  stew! 


WtemDerec 


See  how  it's  eookinji  witiioiit  lilting  tlie  lid! 
Note  tlie  easy-grip  kiiohs.  Handles  stay  cool. 
Broad  liase  pre\  eiits  tipping. 

PYREX  Flameware  Double  Boiler,  $3.45 


n 


ameware 


It's  true!  Corning  has  designed  the  smartest  cook- 
ingware  to  come  along  in  years ! 

New  PYREX  Flameware  lets  you  see  what's  cooking 
.  .  .  is  as  easy  to  wash  clean  as  your  dinner  dishes. 
And  it's  tempered  to  make  it  extra-strong  and  dur- 
able. See  it  now  at  your  favorite  housewares  counter. 
You'll  want  a  complete  matched  set! 


y  to  clean  —  always  looks  NEW! 
LEX  Flameware  washes  sparkling 
n  so  easily.  Covers  lock  on.  Han- 
1  ha\  e  rings  forlianging.  l!4-quart 
!5;  2-quart  $2.45.  ' 

[EX  Flameware  Saucepan, 

1 -quart,  $1.95 


Extra-stable  on  range  or  table.  Broad  base 
"^aS.,     prexents  tipping.  C.oliee  perks  faster.  6-cup 
^    $2.95;  9-cup  $3.45. 

PYREX  Flameware  Percolator,  4-cup,  $2.45 


Corning  Glass  Worte 

/ maters  of  pyrex 


Rugged  — it'.«  tempered!  NW  PYREX 
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PYREX  Flameware  Teapot,  $1.95 

VISIT  THE  CORNING 
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'PYREX"  is  a  registered  trade-marli  in  the  U.  S.  of  Corning  Glass  Works.  Coming.  N.  Y. 


The  LESTER  PIANO  is  the  Official  Piano  of  The  Philadelphia  Orcheslf^a 


Built  by  the  same  family  since  1888 
.  .  .  every  genuine  Betsy  Ross  Spinet  is  musically 
perfect  with  superb  Amplified  Tone,  responsive  touch 
and  full  volume.  Every  one  has  the  standard 
88  note  keyboard  and  is  guaranteed  for  ten  years. 

Dampp-Chaser®  equipped  ...  an  exclusive  Lester 
feature  for  moisture  control. 

See  this  and  other  distinctive  nev/  models  nov/. 
Priced  from  $695.00;  model  pictured  $893.00  f.o.b. 
Lester,  Pa.  Your  dealer  will  arrange  terms. 


ONE 


a  beautiful  piano  with  magnificent  tone 


Made  ONLY  by  the  Lester  Piano 
Manufacturing  Company,  Inc., 
builders  of  world  renowned 
Lester  Grand  Pianos. 


Sold  by  America's  foremost  piano  dealers 


LESTER  PIANO  MANUFACTURING  CO.,  INC.,  LESTER  13,  PA. 
Please  send  me  free  literature  and  style  brochure. 
Name 


Zone  No.  

State   WMBMB^^pp^M^BII^^P  ihj^bf^S 

foreign  Solei  Repratentoiivei   H.  A  AStTeTT  &  Co'.'wlSodway,  New  York  6.  N.  Y. 


(Continued  from  Page  20) 
Garbo,  introduced  as  Miss  Brown.  Ap- 
parently more  than  anything,  Greta  wants 
privacy.  Like  Charles  Lindbergh,  she 
shuns  publicity.  She  does  not  want  to  be 
known  or  stared  at.  But  no  pseudonym 
could  dim  that  haunting  beauty.  She  was 
lovelier  there  that  evening,  in  a  gray 
siveater  and  a  blue  scarf,  her  hair  short 
and  curly,  than  in  any  film  we  ever  saw 
her  in,  except  possibly  Anna  Karenina. 
No  one  in  movies  today  is  as  beautiful  as 
Garbo  was  that  evening.  But  alas!  she  will 
probably  never  consent  to  appear  again. 


If  you're  a  hathliib — or  any  other 
type — singer,  here's  a  book  for  you: 

The  Fireside  Book  of  Favorite 
American  So.\(;s,  selected  and  edited 
by   Margaret    BratlfortI   Boni.  "In 

the  Good  Old  Summer  Time."  "After 
the   Ball   is  Over."   "Little  Brown 


COURTESY  TRUE,  THE  MAN  S  MAGAZINE 


''The  whole  country  is  cryin'  for 
authentic  early-American  folk  songs. 
Are   you    gonna    let   'em  down?" 


Jug."  "Marching  Through  Georgia." 
"Frankie  and  Johnnie."  .  .  .  You'll  turn 
off  TV  and  gather  round  the  piano.  The 
whole  family  will  be  singing. . .  .  Maybe 
the  world's  all  right  after  all.  the  end 


You  Can  Buytlie  Best! 

"  Who  walks  tvith  Beauty  has  no  need 
of  fear.  The  sun  and  moon  and  stars 
keep  pace  with  him."  These  words  by 
David  Morion  point  up  a  wonderful 
fact  of  our  time — that  many  of  the 
world's  great  works  of  art  once  avail- 
able only  to  the  few  are  being  repro- 
duced, inexpensively,  for  us  to  enjoy 
in  our  own  homes. 

Ti'huihtn-isiiti'tt 
"'Fathi'tim*'"  Siiniphnnii 

The  Russian  master's  great  Sixth 
Symphony  in  B  minor  is  now  being 
issued  on  a  single  LP  for  only  $2.95. 
RCA  Victor.  Nicolai  Malko  con- 
ducting the  Philharmonia  Orchestra. 

Maurit'e  Vtrilln 

A  portfolio  of  nine  Paris  scenes,  all 
in  full  color,  by  one  of  the  most 
highly  regarded  of  the  modem  French 
painters.  Suitable  £pr  framing.  $L50. 
At  many  bookstores,  or  write  Harry 
N.  Abrams,  Inc.,  421  Hudson  Street, 
New  York  14,  N.  Y. 

Anna  Karenina 

The  Russian  classic  by  Tolstoy,  the 
story  of  a  woman  who  risked  every- 
thing for  love,  is  now  available  for 
65  cents  in  the  Modern  Library 
paper-backed  series.  At  many  book- 
stores, or  write  Random  House,  457 
Madison  Avenue,  New  York  22,  N.  Y. 


Scientific  tests  prove  ifi 
there's  added  health 

protection  in 
ClOROX-cleanhnens! 


(1 


Harmful  germs  often  survive  or 
dinary  washing.  Clorox  provider 
added  protection  against  these! 
germs  because  it  does  more  than 
make  cottons  and  linens  snowy-^ 
white,  color-bright ...  it  makes 
them  sanitary,  too! 

Yes,  Clorox  is  much  more  than 
an  extra-gentle  bleach.  It's  a 
stain  remover,  deodorizer  and  the 
most  efficient  germ-killer  of  its 
kind!  So,  to  conserve  linens . .  . 
to  protect  health  .  .  .  use  Clorox 
every  washday! 

And  CLOROX  kills  germs  in  rou- 
tine cleaning,  too! 

Every  time  you  use 
Clorox  in  routine  clean- 
ing of  germ  centers 
such  as  sink,  drain- 
board,  floor,  basin,  tub 
and  toilet  bowl  you  help  protect 
your  family's  health.  That's  be- 
cause Clorox  is  one  of  the  world's 
great  disinfectants ...  a  type  rec- 
ommended by  public  health  au- 
thorities! Directions  on  the  label. 


mail  this 
coupon  for 

literature 


When  it's  CLOROX-clean... 
it's  SAFER  for  Family  Health 


[!  Now  corners  stay  in 

d  ycur  feet  do  too.  Two 
d  corners  secure  the  foot  of 
ic  s  new  Contour  top  sheet.  See 
the  exclusive  Expansion  Fold 
rdions  out  to  give  you  extro 
;  and  stretch"  room  — then  it  drops 
3nd  smooth  as  bed  is  mode. 


Pacific's  famous  boxed  corners 

are  the  strongest,  longest- weoring  type 
of  corner  in  fitted  sheets.  They  re  taped  to 
take  extra  strain  — they  fit  beautifully, 
go  over  mattress  so  4QSii^. 


Both  top  anc/  bottom  sheets  stay  tucked-in 
...they're  Pacific  Contour  Sheets ! 


you  save  %  of  your  bed  making  time! 


You  don't  know  how  easy  life  can  be  until 
you've  tried  Contour  —  Pacific's  fitted  sheet. 
With  both  Contour  top  end  bottom  sheets 
you  sleep  in  wrinkle-free  comfort  —  and  you 
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Rodez  .  .  .  Soft  kid  draped 
for  afternoon  and  cvenuig 
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fragile  beauty  that  only  an 
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SHOES  from  *8^^ 

low  heel?,  flat?  and  casuals 


Vida  . .  .  The  style  adapted 
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Vitality  Shoe  Company.  Division  of  Internatiniial  Sli  .   i    m  i  .my,  St.  Lnui-  ,!.  Missouri 


»')  >«>ii  jiri-lri  I  iilliili-lif^hl  III  llir  HiHil- 
liKlit  V  If  you  <l(),  indiilf;!!  your  roinmiiif 
naliirc  uiiil  crrulf  om*  in  othtTii-  l»y  wear- 
iii^  Hiifl  (iiidlrlh  ami  llif  itiiiird  urayii,  Mufn 
anil  niHi'H.  liul  whi  n  yiin'ri-  ui  llir  huiiIikIiI 
or  Millinf?  in  lln-  f^mnilhlanil.  Ii-l  u  ncnall  ildxii 
(niiirl,  lir,  rililiiiii  in  your  |iony  luil)  of 
litifiht  «n-iMi,  pink,  or  royal  lilu<-  ito  llir  hIiouI- 
in^  lor  your  pitrHofialily. 

II  you'rr  more  »|)iic  than  HUKar.  iri  ilic 
nrw  l)oy  in  your  alj^rlira  i  laHH  Ir>  llii*  fifftt 
oni-  to  know  il.  Wi-ar  jjay  anil  noiHy  fiolorn 
(ixl,  oran^i',  yellow).  Hut  if  lir  wanln  you 
111  niiTt  liis  niollicr  or  liin  favoriti-  li'a<  ln'r, 
Hwiti  li  to  a  i|uict  violet,  Idue-  or  ^reen 
then  at  least  you'll  ti/ifHiir  tlioiif^lillnl  anil 
serene!  Save  your  lieif^e  Mweuler  lor  llie 
aller-Heliool  joli  interview  or  tlie  ilay  you 
have  to  f;ive  the  Ireasurer'n  reprirl  iH-i  ause 
any  shade  of  lif^hl  tan  (or  any  neutral  i  olor) 
reiillv  does  seem  to  siifif!f\l  eliii  ieni'vl 

Oitilriil  llluKltntM  .  . .  Too  tall  y  A  liri^lit 
color  hi  ll  ni  -c  ,n  l  .11  your  waist  will  cut 
your  height.  Not  tall  enoiif^h?  Then  wear 
the  same  color  or  shades  of  the  sanu-  color 
up  and  dow  n-  and  select  imc  accessory  only 
of  another  color.  Too  thin?  \V<-ar  the  warm 
colors  in  nondingin^  materials.  Not  thin 
enough?  Wear  the  cool  colors  and  lif^lit  top.s 
and  dark  skirts,  slif^htly  flared,  to  look  Ics.s 
"hippy";  dark  to[)s  and  lif^ht  skirts  make 
your  shoulders  look  less  hrf)ad. 

II  your  skin  is  in  the  process  of  "growing; 
up"  and  not  .so  clear-looking  as  you'd 
like  it,  avoid  checks  and  prints,  and 
stick  to  the  solid  colors,  espe- 
cially navy  blue.  Hair  just-average- 
brown?  Then  wear  yellow  to  pick 
up  the  stray  blond  high  lights.  Bright 
red  will  make  a  honey  blonde  look  even 
blonder;  and  any  shade  of  blue  will  turn 
a  redhead  into  a  flaming  torch! 


tfano  mrfr  ll»r  rmtmkmtr  Itmlulm  .  .  . 

F  Uiillion  Hiiv  H      weiir  jewi-li  ^  lli.il    liiali  Id-' 
Si  why  not  In-  llie  fir^l  uni-  in  d 
III  dye  a  »lrin|<  of  old  |M-arlx  tor  .f 

Imi^i-  mien)  ihi*  i»ai(ie  i  nloi  If 
dlep^n  or  nwealer y  (Make  a  ■  I 
all  colofH  look  a  nhade  darki-i  wlii-n  nel.  liip 
in  your  |*trarlii  unlil  llie  nf{lil  color  in 
achieved.  Then  rifiM-  wveral  liiiiei.  in  cold 
wuler,  and  pal  ilry  willi  a  clean  clolh.)  Il'o 
fun  to  trim  the  collar  of  your  fovorilr  dickry 
H'itli  |M'arU,  or  to  riuike  a  "Mthotd  lie' 
(itchool  colom)  of  nurroM  riliUinit  lo  knot 
under  your  dickey  collar,  or  lo  m-w  a  (lony 
tail  III  coloreil  cellophane  fringe  on  vour 
c|u>iN  hat  (or  ancient  "iM-aiiie"). 

Newer-lhan-springtirne  you'll  lie:  if  yur 
tjiHler  huit  in  a  patlel  tweed,  U-i^^e  or  navy; 
if  you  own  a  "liullerHi  oich"  Udl  wider  in 
the  back  than  in  the  front;  if  you  carrv  a 
pastel-colored  leather  handl)ag  or  wear  \mu^- 
lei  glovcH;  if  you  wear  "all  one  color"  of 
chaiiip.igiie  or  sand  and  a  pink  |iink  ro-'-. 

#'<»f«r/«/  rnt—n$4'mlm  /«-•*•  mtmlfm  .  .  . 
"I  dun  t  rare  what  color  lip-tii  k  she  wears 
as  long  as  it  doesn't  come  off  on  glasMfs, 
napkins,  straws  and  me!"  ...  "I  ilespis^- 
girls  who  try  to  be  big  shots  by  using  [lurple 
eye  shadow .  " ...  "I  don't  think  two  dinereni 
kinds  of  checks  look  so  hot  together."  .  .  . 
"A  color  that  matches  a  girl's  eyes  if)  flatter- 
ing." .  . .  ".Soft, quiet  colorsarejuslmade  for 
girls."  ...  "A  blonde  in  red  is  my  idea  of  a 
pretty  girl."  ...  "I  go  for  any  girl  in  any 
shade  of  blue."  .  .  .  "Girls  should  wear  the 
colors  that  look  best  on  them,  regardless  of 
fads."  ...  "I  like  u  hitr  socks  with  loafers." 
.  .  .  "It's  a  lot  of  hooey  to  think  that  boys 
don't  notice  w  hat  a  girl  wears.  .Maylw:  i  can't 
remember  what  every  girl  in  school  wore 
last  "Tuesday,  but  I  remember  the  ones 
that  looked  nice.  I'd  be  crazy  if  I  didn't!" 


A  Spin  on  lb<'  <'ol<»r  \Vh<'e 


Mtoi  wear  a  white  collar  (or  scarf)  on 
a  dress  of  a  color  you  like  but  that  doesn't 
do  anything  for  your  skin;  wear  navy  blue 
instead  of  black,  which  drains  the  color 
from  your  face;  do  try  colors  in  the  light 
under  which  you'll  wear  them  (artificial 
light  deadens  even  the  vivid  colors). 

Don't  miss  the  fashions  in  this  issue  . . . 
be  afraid  to  wear  pale  pink  and  tomato  red; 
lavender,  coral  or  pale  green  with  navy; 
violet  and  pale  pink;  hunter  green  and  pale 
blue;  orange  and  pink  (this  may  look  like  a 
sunset  but  it's  great  on  a  sun-tanned  bru- 
nette) ;  brown  and  gray  (for  people  with 
high  coloring),  or  ice  blue  with  purple. 

fhattvr:  Blue  appears  to  discourage 
flies,  but  not  mosquitoes  or  boys.  Quadrupeds 
see  only  black  and  white,  but  insects,  fishes 
and  birds  are  more  sensitive  to  color  varia- 
tions than  people  are.  Studies  show  that  the 
favorite  colors  (in  order)  are  blue, 
red,  gi'een,  violet,  orange, 

■~    yellow.  To 

—  ^ R  i  m  s  k  i  - 

Korsakov, 

the  composer,  sunlight  was  C  major;  F 
sharp,  strawberry  red.  A  young  boy  whose 
sight  was  restored  after  eighteen  years  of 
blindness  said,  "Light  green  was  like  touch- 
ing a  baby's  skin.  Purple  was  like  the  cold 
clammy  feeling  that  you  get  before  it  rains.  " 


Martruri  l  O'ltrit- 


Former  child  movie 
actress  (Journey  for 
Margaret)  Margarel 
O'Brien,  now  a  sweci 
sixteen,  is  schooling 
herself  in  stage  tech- 
nique. Just  a  year  ago. 
she  started  wearing 
make-up  away  from  the 
camera.  She  finds,  as 
so  many  other  teen- 
age girls  do,  that  two  shades  of  lipstick  are 
enough.  "I  use  pink  most  of  the  time,"  she 
says,  "but  have  an  orangy  red  in  reserv'e  to 
wear  with  tangerine  or  red  dresses." 

Suzanne  Godart,  teen-age  fashion  de- 
signer, made  her  first  dress  when  she  was 
six  years  old  and  wore  it  to  school.  "I  put 
my  coat  over  it  so  my  mother  couldn't  see 
what  I  was  wearing  and  then  ran  off,"  she 
said.  "Because  every- 
one wears  flowers  in 
the  spring,"  she  says, 
"I  like  to  tuck  artificial 
green  grapes  in  the 
pocket  of  a  navy  blue 
dress  or  pin  a  small 
apple  or  pear  on  my 
suit  collar  or  belt.  I 
find  my  'fruit'  in  a  mil- 
linery-supplv  house."' 


Suzanne  Codart 


«*ditod  bv  Ruth  lml«>r 


J  U         I\         i"*        rt.  Xj 


March,  J 


only  AVON  brings  these  fine 


""r.f.  Joseph  Collins,  wife  of  a  prominent  Indianapolis  business  man,  selects  Avon  cosmetics 
d  toiletries  in  her  home  at  ^8gg  Carvel  Avenue  with  the  help  of  her  AVON  Representative, 
Mrs.  Robert  H.  Lawson. 


Your  Avon  Representative  will  help  you 
choose  cosmetics  best  suited  to  your  needs. 


Enjoy  the  convenience  of  choosing  Avon  Cosmetics 
in  the  pleasant  surroundings  of  your  own  home. 
Your  friendly  Avon  Representative  considers  your 
individual  coloring,  your  own  skin  needs.  She  helps 
you  select  the  preparations  that  bring  the  most  benefit 
to  your  complexion  and  offer  you  the  fresh,  clear 
beauty  that  the  right  skin  care  imparts.  At  the  same* 
time,  select  toiletries  of  the  finest  quality  for  the  men 
in  your  family.  They'll  like  their  brisk  scents,  quick 
action  and  pleasing  economy. 

If  you  are  not  now  enjoying  this  convenient,  pleasant 
way  of  shopping  .  .  .  far  from  the  crowds,  simply  call 
Western  Union  by  number.  Ask  for  Operator  25  and 
tell  her  you  want  to  see  the  Avon  Representative. 
She  alone  can  bring  these  fine  cosmetics  to  you  in 
your  home. 


CALL  WESTERN    UNION    OPERATOR   25   FOR  YOUR  AVON  REPRESENTATIVE 


made  for  beauty. . .  made  for  you 


From  the  first  pleasing  touch  of  lipstick  in  the  morning 
to  the  last  soothing  stroke  of  cream  at  night,  Avon's 
x!-^        many  fine  cosmetics  and  toiletries  fulfill 
(jy-^  ^      your  every  beauty  need  ! 

/  Avon  Cosmetics  are  blended  in  exciting, 
feminine  shades !  Lipstick,  nail  polish, 
rouge,  powder  and  make-up  foundation 
are  all  color-matched  .  .  .  bringing  you  flattery,  yet 
whispering  "natural  beauty." 

You  will  be  delighted,  too,  with  Avon  Creams  and 
Toiletries  .  .  .  the  aids  to  good  groom- 
ing which  guard  your  daintiness,  making 
you  lovelier  .  .  .  and  the  lingering  fra- 
grances of  delicately  scented  Sachets, 
Perfumes  and  Colognes. 


You'll  be  grateful,  most  of  all,  for  the  very  personal 
way  Avon  is  sold — -directly  to  you  in  the  quiet  and 
privacy  of  your  own  home. 
You.  individually,  choose  each  Avon 
product  with  the  pleasant,  helpful 
guidance  of  your  Avon  Representative, 
a  woman  who  understands  your  beauty 
needs,  just  as  you  do. 
If  no  Avon  office  is  listed  in  your  phone  book,  simply 
call  Western  Union  by  number  and  ask  for  Operator 
25.  Or,  if  you  live  where  this  service  is  not  available, 
write  directly  to  Avon  for  the  name  of  your  Repre- 


JTs^Cjl  write  directly  to  Avon  for  the  r 

W^ii'  sentative.  She  alone  can  brir 

^^'1 -k  Cosmetics  to  you. 

CTTYDTL 


can  bring  these  fine  Avon 


Welcome  her  tvhen  she  rails 


cosmetics 


RADIO  CITY.  NEW  YORK  •  PASADENA.  CALIFORNIA  •  MONTREAL.  CANADA 


28 


4 

■4 

4 
4 


t 

4- 


4^  4-4-  4-4.4.4-  44.-4.. 


mm 


By  CLIFFORD  R.  ADAMS 

Ph.D..  Pennsyltania  Stale  Cnlletie.  Department  of  Psycholofiy 


Loneliness  touches  us  all,  and  can  be  a  shadow  on  your  marriage.  .  ,  . 

When  you  must  leave  your  husband  alone,  don't  leave  him  lonely. 


Don't  Let  Your  Husband  Feel  Loneh 

EVERY  human  being  needs  recreation. 
Pleasurable  pastimes — whether  hobbies, 
I  social  affairs  or  sports— lend  savor  and 
zest  to  life.  Any  routine  palls  if  it  is  never 
varied;  that  is  why  there  are  so  many  wives 
who  look  forward  to  "getting  away  from  the 
house"  in  the  evening. 

A  husband,  too,  wants  recreation.  But  after 
being  out  all  day,  mingling  with  people,  he  is 
physically  and  mentally  tired.  She  wants  stimu- 
lation, he  has  had  enough.  To  him,  attending  a 
party  or  meeting  is  not  a  welcome  change  but 
merely  an  extension  of  the  day's  demands. 

In  the  early  years  of  marriage,  the  husband 
will  usually  accompanv  his  wife,  even  though 
he'd  prefer  sharing  an  evening  at  home.  But  as 
demands  on  his  time  and  energy  increase,  so 
does  his  reluctance  to  go  out  during  the  week. 
If  he  doesn't  enjoy  the  kind  of  social  gatherings 
which  appeal  to  his  wife,  he  may  suggest  that 
she  go  alone.  Or  he  may  consent  to  be  baby- 
sitter so  she  can  have  an  evening's  freedom. 
Contrary  to  popular  opinion,  more  husbands 
than  wives  sit  at  home  alone. 

However  much  a  wife  craves  diversion,  she 
should  not  forget  that  companionship  is  one  of 
the  fundamental  values  men  seek  in  marriage. 
The  husband  who  stays  home  several  nights  a 
week,  alone  or  with  only  the  children  for  com- 
pany, suffers  a  real  deprivation,  and  nine  out 
of  ten  husbands  say  they  feel  acutelv  lonelv 
under  such  circumstances.  Unfair  as  it  may 
seem,  our  research  shows  that  the  happiness  of 
the  marriage  suffers  less  when  the  husband  goes 
out  leaving  the  wife  alone,  than  when  the  wife 
goes  out  leaving  the  husband. 

Your  husband  probably  spends  many  lonelv 
hours  if  you  leave  him  alone  often.  He  wants  to 
feel  that  you  prefer  his  company  to  that  of  any- 
one else.  How  can  he,  if  all  your  outside  activi- 
ties— bridge  club,  play  practice  or  even  school 
affairs — are  scheduled  for  evening  when  he  is 
free  to  be  with  you? 

A  wife  should  not  be  expected  to  give  up  all 
activities  outside  her  home.  She  can  learn  to 
make  plans  around  her  husband  rather  than 
without  him.  He  will  not  feel  neglected  if  he 
knows  he  is  the  center  of  her  interest. 

The  ideal  solution  is  to  seek  diversion  in 
activities  you  can  share  with  him,  whether  at 
home  or  away.  If  you  crave  society,  and  can't 
both  leave  the  house,  why  not  have  friends  in? 
In  any  case,  limit  your  absences  without  him 
to  one  or  two  a  week. 

When  you  do  go  out  alone,  plan  ahead  for  his 
comfort  and  enjoyment.  Suggest  that  he  invite 
friends  in  for  cards  or  conversation;  have  sand- 
wiches or  other  refreshments  waiting  so  that  he 


can  get  them  easily.  Provide  to  the  children's 
needs  before  leaving,  so  that  his  time  won  t  be 
monopolized  by  their  demands.  And  make  sure 
that  he  knows  how  and  where  to  reach  you  if 
occasion  arises. 

If  vou  and  your  husband  established  a  close  and 
companionable  relationship  during  the  early  years 
of  your  marriage,  he  is  not  likely  to  suffer  from 
loneliness  later  on.  For  vou  will  avoid  separa- 
tions on  your  own  account;  and  on  the  occasions 
when  you  must  leave  him  at  home,  the  feeling  of 
sharing  each  other's  lives  will  carry  over. 

Ask  yourself  whether  your  husband  often  feels 
lonely.  If  you  suspect  that  he  does,  revise  your 
program  so  that  you  spend  more  of  your  leisure 
together.  Even  more  important,  try  to  cultivate 
that  sense  of  unity,  of  belonging  together,  which 
will  enable  him  to  feel  close  to  you  in  spirit 
wherever  you  are. 

Doe.s  Your  Husband  Like  Marriage? 

"  ytfTER  six  years  of  marriage,  I  admit  I'm  get- 
f\  ting  tired  of  it.  Marriage  gives  me  very 
little  that  I  didn't  have  as  a  single  man,  with  less 
financial  strain.  I  work  hard,  earn  a  good  income, 


How  Do  You  Shop? 

Though  he  mav  not  accompany  you  on  shop- 
ping trips,  your  husband  plays  an  important  part 
in  viiiir  liiiving.  Check  below  to  see  how  good  a 
team  voii  are  in  handling  family  purchases. 

Does  your  liiisbiiiKl: 

1.  Advise  voii  on  lli<-  seleclion  of  major 

items? 

2.  lincoiirage  >oii  to  l>ii>  for  cash? 

3.  Discuss  I  lie  l)nd<ret  with  \oii? 

I.  Talk  over  \oiir  slioppin-:  problems? 

J)o  yoii : 

5.  Compare  various  store  prices  hef<»re 

buj  infi? 

6.  Avoid  burdensome  installment  pur- 

chases? 

7.  \^  atch  newspapers  for  "specials"? 

8.  Take  advantage  of  economy  sizes? 

9.  Avoid  ont-of-season  liixiu'ics? 

10.  Resist  impulsive  buying? 

11.  List,  in  advance,  items  to  be  pur- 

chased? 

12.  Shop  on  days  when  store  supplies 

offer  widest  variety? 

13.  Avoid  buving  over  the  telephone? 

1 1.  Considt  your  husband  before  buying 
hoiisefiirnishi  ngs? 

Eleven  or  more  "yes"  answers  indicate  that 
you  deserve,  and  have  won,  your  husband's  ap- 
proval as  family  purchasing  agent.  But  with 
seven  or  more  "no"  answers,  disagreements 
about  money  are  probably  frequent.  Study  the 
wrong  answers  for  clues  to  better  buying  and 
closer  co-operation. 


but  there  s  always  something  else  we  'need.'  If 
it  isn't  a  new  car,  then  mv  wife  wants  to  fix  up 
the  living  room. 

"Every  morning  I  get  up  at  six-thirty,  fix  my 
breakfast,  and  get  to  my  store  bv  eight.  When 
I  get  home  at  night,  my  wife  has  supper  ready 
on  the  table,  we  exchange  a  few  remarks,  then 
read  or  listen  to  the  radio  till  I  go  to  bed,  usually 
an  hour  or  so  before  she  does.  Since  we  have 
no  children,  she  can  sleep  as  late  as  she  pleases 
in  the  morning. 

"She's  a  good  cook  and  housekeeper,  and  does 
nothing  that  is  grounds  for  divorce.  But  she  does 
little  that  is  grounds  for  marriage  either.  I  feel 
I'm  on  a  treadmill,  and  I  can't  help  thinking  a 
lot  of  other  husbands  must  feel  the  same  way." 

Tliis  man's  complaint  is  all  too  familiar.  Many 
husbands,  and  wives  too,  are  disappointed  in 
marriage  because  they  regard  it  as  a  guaranty 
of  effortless  happiness.  Instead,  it  is  a  dynamic 
and  reciprocal  relationship,  fully  satisfying  to 
either  only  if  it  is  satisfying  to  both.  It  is  doubt- 
ful that  this  man's  wife  is  entirely  content, 
though  she  seems  to  have  little  tangible  cause 
for  complaint. 

The  fact  is  that  for  the  husband,  too,  it  is  his 
intangible  needs,  rather  than  his  material  wants, 
which  marriage  is  not  satisfying.  Though  he 
complains  of  financial  pressure,  it  is  because 
his  marriage  is  giving  him  too  little  that  money 
couldn't  buv.  His  wife's  performance  as  cook  and 
housekeeper  is  adequate;  what  he  misses  is  under- 
standing, appreciation,  and  the  feeling  of  being 
united  in  a  mutual  endeavor.  The  chore  of  getting 
his  own  breakfast  matters  less  than  his  wife's 
failure  to  share  the  start  of  the  day  with  him. 

Granted,  he  may  be  at  fault  too.  Perhaps  his 
wife  feels  he  doesn't  appreciate  the  work  in- 
volved in  cleaning,  mending  and  cooking.  The 
fact  remains  that  these  tasks  are  her  responsi- 
hilitv.  just  as  earning  the  living  is  his.  Does  she 
take  an  interest  in  his  job,  acknowledge  his 
fatigue,  praise  him  for  his  efforts?  A  happy  hus- 
band looks  forward  to  coming  home  not  to  ad- 
mire shining  floors  or  freshly  laundered  curtains 
but  for  the  sake  of  his  wife's  welcome. 

Meeting  your  husband's  material  needs  takes 
far  more  time  than  meeting  his  psychological 
needs.  But  it  is  the  latter  that  establishes  your 
true  worth  to  him.  If  vou  satisfy  him  emotion- 
ally and  psvchologicallv,  he  will  never  wonder 
what  a  man  gets  out  of  marriage. 

Do  You  Agree? 

How  can  I  be  less  possessive  -u-ith  my  hus- 
band? 

By  convincing  yourself  that  you  are  worthy  of 
vour  husband  s  love,  and  that  his  love  is  worth 
having  only  to  the  degree  that  he  freely  gives  it. 


,^4-  ^4^4.-4  4.4.4.4  4^  ^^4.4.  4.4.^^^^  4-4- 4^-4-  4.4-  4-4-  4-^       4-^4--^^^  4--^ 


4-4-4-^-f-^4-4->4  44 

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II   "   \l    I       I   II   I    l(    \    \  I 


vM^r,  ^uMc  ct^iu  'uic/i  a 


Feel  it  on  your  fingertips  ! 
b  it  into  the  palms  of  your  hands! 
lu  can  feel  that  Shasta  Shampoo 
is  right  for  your  hair! 


From  the  second  you  open  the  jar,  you  can  Jed  that  creamy-soft 
Shasta  is  going  to  do  wonderful  things  for  your  hair. 

Rich  but  not  oily,  creamy  but  not  sticky,  Shasta  is  the  very  softest 
of  the  cream  shampoos,  .  .gives  you  billows  of  rich,  lasting  lather 
that  cleanses  your  hair  like  no  ordinary  soap  shampoo  can  do. 

No  other  shampoo  is  so  femininely  right  for  your  hair. 
So  when  it's  important  for  you  to  look  and  feel  your  best, 
be  Shasta-sure  your  hair  is  soft,  sweet,  feminine! 

P.  S.  Just  a  little  Shasta  gives  jou  a  lot  of  lather.  Don't  waste  it! 


J 


30 


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PUBLIC  AFFAIRS  DEPARTMENT 
Editeil  by 
MARGARET  HICKEY 


In  Asheville,  North  Carolina 


Youth  Accepts  Responsibility 

By  MARGARET  HICKEY 

FACING  uncertainties  and  Avonies,  many  parents  are 
unable  to  give  their  children  the  extra  assurance  and 
guidance  they  need.  The  love-starved  child,  found  in 
almost  every  school  in  every  city,  so  often  becomes  the 
teen-age  delinquent,  the  maladjusted  worker  and  poor 
citizen  later  on.  To  make  sure  we  have  a  sound  citizenry 
tomorrow,  our  53,000,000  infants,  children  and  youths 
must  be  our  chief  concern  today. 

One  of  youth  s  major  needs  is  tiie  chance  to  take  part 
in  comnmnity  plans  and  to  accept  responsibilities.  As  one 
young  delegate  to  the  1950  Midcentury  Conference  on 
Children  and  Youth  put  it:  "Young  people  want  more 
participation  in  the  management  of  their  own  organiza- 
tions, in  both  school  and  community  life.  Many  adults 
treat  us  as  if  we  were  rash,  incompetent,  uninterested  and 
selfish.  If  we  are  made  to  feel  incompetent,  we  may  soon 
believe  tiiat  we  have  no  capabilities." 

The  National  Midcentury  Committee  for  Children  and 
Youtli,  in  its  effort  to  strengthen  family  life,  is  co-operating 
with  460  national  organizations  composed  of  ministers 
and  clubwomen,  parents  and  educators.  One  third  of  all 
the  counties  in  the  United  States  are  now  organized  as 
units  of  state  committees  to  reach  children  and  )(iutli 
everywhere. 

Typical  of  action  being  taken  to  develop  independence, 
initiative  and  responsibility  is  the  youth-employment  serv- 
ice sponsored  by  the  local  woman's  club  in  Iowa  City, 
Iowa.  Last  year  teen-agei's  were  appointed  to  advisory 
positions  on  the  city  council  and  on  si.\  city  com- 
missions. Two  students  served  as  "advisory  members" 
of  the  board  of  education. 

In  many  cotntiuiiiities  the  youth-council  idea  also  is 
taking  hold,  flu-  hr-l  vouth  conference  sponsored  by  the 
Cosmopolitan  Ckih  in  Rapid  City,  South  Dakota,  drew 
741  ollicial  delegates  from  a  population  of  26,000.  In 
Lewisville,  Arkansas,  two  youth  councils,  under  the 
leadership  of  the  Waldo  Club,  got  out  a  "Save  Our  School" 
letter  and  carried  on  a  pre-election  campaign,  urging 
citizens  to  work  and  vote  for  adequate  schools. 

Junior  Woman's  Clubs  all  over  the  country  are  forming 
"family  councils"  under  the  leadership  of  Mrs.  Nunley 
B.  Snedegar.  All  that's  needed  to  organize  a  council  is  a 
family  group  of  three  or  more  membt  rs  and  a  living  room, 
den  or  even  a  kitchen  as  a  regular  meeting  place.  The 
whole  family  has  fun  reading,  working  or  acting  together, 
and  sometimes  square  dancing  with  neighbors.  Being 
part  of  the  family  circle,  reading  devotions  and  Scrip- 
tures together  in  the  evening  after  supper,  the  junior 
clubwomen  say,  is  something  the  children  will  remember 
long  after  they're  grown.  the  end 


"Choosing  a  Mate"  is  the  topic  of  discussion  at  this  lively 
supper  meeting.  Students  of  family  life  in  the  Asheville,  North 
Carolina,  pubHc  schools,  anxious  to  avoid  mistakes  that  could 
mar  their  lives,  formed  the  Homes  of  Tomorrow  Cluh. 


A FRIGHTENED  teen-age  boy  stood  before  the  judge  for  sentence. 
He  was  nervous  and  clumsily  shifted  his  hands  from  his  pockets 
to  his  sides,  where  they  hung  awkwardly.  Dejected,  guilty,  he  stood 
there  waiting. 

The  young  judge  looked  at  the  boy  thoughtfully  for  a  moment. 
Then:  "I  sentence  you  to  church  every  Sunday  until  further  notice." 

Judge  Shelby  E.  Horton,  Jr.,  was  a  member  of  a  great  conspiracy  in 
the  city  of  Asheville,  North  Carolina — a  conspiracy  in  which  he  was 
joined  by  sympathetic,  intelligent  citizens  of  the  city  who  knew  that 
when  a  kid  gets  into  trouble  it's  often  not  his  fault.  They  could  always 
send  a  boy  off  to  the  state  penal  institution,  but  they  preferred  doing 
things  the  hard  way — the  right  way. 

Through  this  boy's  parents,  into  whose  custody  he  was  paroled,  and 
the  family  minister,  who  \^ould  serve  as  his  probation  officer.  Judge 
Horton  firmly  intended  to  remold  a  young  confused  boy  into  a  fine 
man — without  a  prison  record.  If  things  went  according  to  plan,  the  boy 
would  soon  join  his  school's  Homes  of  Tomorrow  Club  and  would  be  on 
the  way  to  solving  the  problems  that  had  so  nearly  landed  him  in  the  re- 
formatory. There  would  be  things  for  his  parents  to  learn  about  him  too. 

Now  in  its  ninth  year.  Homes  of  Tomorrow  is  teaching  hundreds 
of  Asheville  and  Buncombe  County  teen-agers  how  to  avoid  the  tragic 
youthful  mistakes  that  can  ruin  their  lives.  Parents,  too,  have  been 
shocked  to  learn  of  their  great  responsibilities  beyond  providing  food 
and  shelter.  Parents  like  one  mother  of  nine  children  in  Buncombe 
County  W'ho  says: 

"One  of  my  children  is  already  divorced  and  two  others  have  prob- 
lems I  should  have  been  able  lo  straighten  out  years  ago.  I  failed  with 
ihem.  But  it's  different  with  the  younger  ones.  I've  learned  to  be 
perfectly  frank  w  ith  them  and  they  are  frank  and  open  with  me.  There's 
a  togetherness  about  the  family  that  (Coitihiued  on  Page  liS) 


HANS  KNOPF 


refreslios 


i()u(  (illiiio 


IIK  Mf)I)KHN'  \VO\t\N  OWc^  a  lot  In  toij.is  -  ;.'.»orl 

sciist!  ill  (Jii'l.  She  cats  drink-  lifilil, 

anil  keeps  her  yoiilliriil  (if.'iiic  loii^'tT.  Slif  looks 
M-llrl.  (l-cls  liclllT.  Mm  lik<-  Im  t  l.rtt.-r. 
Ami  ^-1)  (Inr-  licr  iii-iirarirc  loitipan) . 

I'or  licr,  l(iila\"-  I'cp.si-Cola  is  rcfrc-liriii-nt 
made  to  onli  r.  I  or  l'i  |i-i  lia.-  kept  in  step 
willi  sensible  elian^e^  in  modern  ta>le. 


Dry,  never  too  sweet,  reduced  in  calories, 
it  goes  with  all  the  wholesome  ways  of  living 
that  help  make  her  what  she  is. 

Enjoy  Pepsi-Cola  whenever  you  want  re- 
freshment— in  the  familiar  economy  bottle 
that  serves  two  people,  or  the  new,  single- 
drink  size,  just  right  for  one. 

It's  the  modern,  the  light 
refreshment —  refreshes  without 
filling.  That's  why  today  Pepsi-Cola 
is  more  popular  than  ever. 


Pep  si- Cola 


V 


Dial  Soap    _  ^ 
keeps  complexions 
clearer  by  keeping 
skin  cleaner! 

DiaVa  AT-7  (Hexachlorophene)  removes  blemish- 
spreading  bacteria  that  other  soaps  leave  on  akin. 

The  cleaner  your  skin,  the  better  vonr  complexion.  And  mild,  li  agrant 
Dial  with  AT-7  gets  your  skin  cleaner  and  clearer  than  any  other  kind  of 
soap.  It's  as  simple  as  that.  Of  course  Dial's  bland  beaiity-cream  lather 
gently  removes  dirt  and  make-up,  giving  you  scrupulous  cleanliness 
to  overcome  clogged  pores  and  blackheads.  Bvit  Dial  does  far  more! 

Here's  the  important  difference:  when  you  use  Dial  every  day,  its  AT-7 
effectively  clears  skin  of  bacteria  that  often  aggravate  and  spread 
surface  pimples  and  blemishes.  Skin  doctors  know  this  and  recommend 
Dial  for  both  adults  and  adolescents. 

Protect  your  complexion  with  fine,  fragrant  Dial  Soap. 


A  cat  can  always  manage! 
Aladdin  looks  things  over. 


DIAL  DAVE  GARROWAY 
NBC.  Weekdays 


iVoM?  available  in  Canada 


nt 


;03P 


By  GLADYS  TABER 


THE  rain  is  violent  and  imperative,  the 
whole  world  is  nothing  but  driven 
lances  of  silvery  gray.  Looking  out  from  my 
window.  I  see  the  steaming  swamp,  the 
farther  hill  is  almost  invisible.  Shuttered 
with  rain,  the  little  farmhouse  echoes  with 
the  downpour  from  the  eaves  troughs.  Out- 
side, the  roar  of  George's  brook  sounds  wild 
and  cold.  White  water  cascades,  the  brook 
is  a  river  for  its  hour  and  how  free  and 
lovely  that  flow  is!  Ice  and  snow  break  into 
small  islands,  the  frosting  is  off  the  old 
stone  fences  at  last,  the  great  boulders 
have  a  greenish  look  in  all  the  wash  of  wa- 
ter. And  the  lichen  on  the  massive  trunks 
of  the  sugar  maples  has  the  color  of  very 
old  jade. 

Jill  wears  her  yellow  oilskin  hat  when  she 
wades  to  the  kennel  and  she  looks  very 
much  like  a  Gloucester  fisherman  ready  to 
pull  a  net  at  sea.  The  dogs  are  weather- 
wise;  they  use  such  days  to  dream;  those  in 
the  house  curl  up  by  the  fire  round  as  balls 
of  knitting  yarn.  Those  in  the  kennel  ex- 
pect an  extra  afternoon  tea  of  milk  and  bis- 
cuit as  a  reward  for  being  shut  in.  Teddy 
spends  his  time  looking  for  things  to  chew 
up.  "What  can  I  do  now,  mamma?"  is  his 
constant  refrain.  I  tell  him  he  ought  to  be 
crayoning  or  working  on  a  model  airplane. 

The  first  real  sign  of  spring  is  the  list- 
making  which  goes  on.  Things  to  do  before 
good  weather.  Jill  has  a  pad  in  every  room 
and  constantly  jots  down  memos  which  I 
can  seldom  decipher.  "P  in  F  R"  means 
paint  woodwork  in  front  room.  "Sp  L  F," 
on  the  other  hand,  means  spray  lawn  furni- 
ture. And  "Refin  Ch"  means  to  really  get 
to  sanding  on  the  wonderful  old  blanket 
chest  with  the  heart-shaped  hardware  that 
Steve  and  Olive  gave  us  last  fall. 

The  second  true  sign  of  spring  comes 
when  I  dash  out  for  the  mail,  and  stand 
hard  against  the  wind.  The  rain  has  a  dif- 
ferent taste,  a  different  smell  than  at  any 
other  time.  The  air  really  sings— deep  wet 


woods,  banks  of  rotted  cinnamon-colcK  i 
leaves  uncovered  again.  And  mud.  Mi 
has  a  fine  odor,  a  waking  up,  a  growing 
rich,  promising  scent. 

Since  Santa  Claus  has  provided  us 
one  of  those  heavenly  automatic  deep  jt 
fryers,  we  can  have  lacos  on  a  wild  Maji 
night  with  no  trouble  at  all.  The  frye's 
really  a  miracle,  for  the  fat  temperatur  s 
automatically  controlled  and  foods  e 
cooked  perfectly,  beautifully  browned  ;d 
flavorful.  It  is  economical,  too,  for  le 
fat  can  be  used  until  it  grows  dark,  till 
strained  and  clarified  for  a  last  round  f 
French-fried  fillets  of  flounder.  After  v/hi  j., 
we  add  the  fat  to  the  dog  food,  and  1"  v 
they  do  love  it !  (Dogs  need  fat.) 

For  the  tacos  we  use  canned  tortillas  l  i 
canned  enchilada  sauce,  and  I  am  glad  tl  / 
come  canned  now.  I  use  a  can  of  sauce  a 
head  of  lettuce,  some  lamb  or  chicken  lii- 
overs.  I  grind  three  or  four  cups  of  lett  p 
in  the  food  chopper,  run  the  meat  jp 
through  it,  blend  them  and  add  salt  I 
moisten  the  mix  with  the  enchilada  saij, 
add  chopped  onion  to  taste  (we  like  lo  [ . 
Then  I  fold  the  tortillas  in  half  and  d  5 
them  in  the  fryer  set  at  moderate  tempel- 
ture  and  let  them  stay  just  long  enough  ) 
start  turning  golden.  Out  then  they  coil, 
and  fast,  and  the  filler  goes  in,  and  they  i; 
folded  again.  The  trick  of  that  prelimin;|,' 
frying  is  to  make  them  shaped  for  the  i- 
ing.  Then  I  French-fry  them  with  tfir 
snug  filling  until  they  are  really  crisp,  't 
them  out  with  tongs  and  open  them  enoiji 
to  add  a  bite  of  fresh  lettuce,  a  tiny  weil; 
of-  tomato.  To  the  rest  of  the  enchil;  i 
sauce  I  add  tomato  sauce  and  heat  w  . 
then  spoon  it  over  the  tacos. 

The  secret  of  the  filling  is  to  havt  't 
moist  enough  to  stick  together  nicely  1 1 
not  to  run  out  all  over  the  fryer.  T  -" 
sauce  you  pour  over  should  be  about  s 
thick  as  a  white  sauce.  The  combinat|i 
(Continued  on  Page  ZOO)  \ 


ALWAYS 


BE   GLAD   YOU  STARTED 


WITH  STERLING 


nothirii,'  is  u  compaiablt;  tiubbLiLuLc  lui 
its  proud  presence  on  your  table.  Its  long 
establishod  prestige  is  above  challenge. 
Its  lasting  loveliness  is  impossible  to  imitate. 
Nothing  looks,  feels  or  wears  like  solid  silver 
but  solid  silver.  And  Towi^  Sterling  is  solid 
silver  at  its  beautiful,  beautiful  best — designed 
with  style  and  spirit,  crafted  by  traditions 
263  years  old  No  need  to  start  with  less  than 
the  finest:  $29.75  can  buy  a  six-piece  place 
setting  in  lifetime  Sterling  by  Towle. 


A  -  Contour    B  -  Madeira    C  —  Old  Master 

D  —  Southwind    E  —  French  Provincial  Sauce  Ladle 

F— King  Richard  Serving  Spoon 

G  —  Candlelight  Serving  Fork 


COAT  DRESS  BT  MONT^ 

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3jtt 

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jfti 
ifol 
ia 
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rait 
tap: 
tdn 

m.] 

Hr, 
bU 


i>.\it'r  7 


"For  seven  years  I've  lia«l  almost  iiiil>earal>le  |taiii  ever\  iikimIIi  — 
iihI  iKtiie  <>('  llie  ill  jecl  ions  iii>  doclor  Irird  is  aii>  help. 

WoiiUI  an  o|i<-ratioii  f;i\e  me  relief?" 

Bv  lIKNin  U.  S\l  H>m>.  M.I). 


PLEASE  be  scaled,  Miss  Beige."  said 
llie  doelor.  "1  received  a  letter  from 
iir  family  physician  only  yesterday.  I 
ve  it  here  in  my  desk  drawer.  If  you'll 
cuse  me,  I  think  I'll  read  it  again,  to  re- 
•sh  my  mind.  Upon  second  thought.  I'll 
;id  it  aloud.  Then  you  can  tell  me  ally- 
ing that  should  be  added.  Here's  what 
lur  doctor  says: 

"'Dear  Doctor:  I  am  sending  you  a  pa- 
int, Miss  Sally  Beige,  who  presents  quite 
.  interesting  case  which  has  proved  some- 
ing  of  a  problem  to  more  than  one  of  us  in 
is  community.  This  girl  is  afflicted  with 
LMistrual  difliculty  so  severe  that  she 
isses  a  full  week  from  business  in  every 
3nlh.  She  has  had  all  sorts  of  hormone 
erapy,  with  no  result  at  all.  One  of  our 
:al  men  has  even  gone  so  far  as  to  sug- 
sl  a  presacral  neurectomy  as  a  means  of 
re.  That  seemed  like  a  rather  heroic  dose 
me,  which  is  the  reason  I  am  asking  you 
look  at  this  girl  and  see  what  you  can 
ggest.  You  will  find  her  more  than  co- 
lerative,  I  am  sure. 

"'Hoping  to  hear  from  you  soon,  and 
th  the  kindest  of  personal  regards  to  my 
rmer  teacher,  I  am, 

"'Very  truly  yours,' 

"Well,  Miss  Beige,  that  seems  to  sum  it 
)  pretty  well.  I  imagine,"  continued  the 
)ctor.  "There  are,  however,  a  few  addi- 
)nal  questions  I  would  like  to  ask.  You 
sk  quite  young— just  how  old  are  you?" 
"Twenty,  Doctor." 

"And  you've  been  menstruating  how 
ng?" 

"  I  had  my  first  period  when  I  was  thir- 
en." 

"Have  you  always  been  regular?" 

"Ever  since  the  first  five  or  six  months, 

lite  regular.  It  comes  every  twenty-eight 

lys  and  lasts  for  five  days." 

"The  letter  says  it  puts  you  out  for  a 

£ek." 

"And  so  it  does,  frequently.  It  isn't  the 
me  every  month— sometimes  it's  worse 
lan  others.  Always  I  have  terrific  pain  for 
le  first  day.  Sometimes  it's  better  after 
lat,  sometimes  not." 

"How  would  you  describe  the  pain? 
larp?  Dull?  Lancinating?  Sticking?" 

"  I  think  lancinating  would  be  the  word, 
's  sometimes  so  bad  that  I  black  out.  And 
lat  first  day  I  have  vomiting  spells  every 
n  or  twelve  minutes,  and  they  last  for 
iree  or  four  minutes.  My  bowels  are  al- 
ays  loose  that  first  day,  too;  and  the  pain 

especially  bad  whenever  I  have  a  bowel 
lovement."  

■  pyriyhl,  195.1.  by  Henry  B.  SalT.jrd.  M.D. 


"That's  very  interesting.  And  nothing 
has  been  found  able  to  help  you?" 

"Nothing,  Doctor.  I  must  have  tried  ev- 
erything. I've  had  at  least  a  half-dozen 
kinds  of  hormone  injections.  And  pellets 
under  my  tongue.  I've  even  had  morphine." 

"I  don't  like  the  idea  of  morphine  in 
such  cases.  I  hope  you  didn't  have  it  often." 

"Only  once.  The  doctor  said  I'd  go  out 
of  my  head  if  I  didn't  get  some  relief.  So  he 
gave  it  to  me,  that  one  time;  but  he  wouldn't 
do  it  again.  So  I  left  liim  and  went  to  Doc- 
tor Tint,  but  he  wouldn't  give  it  to  me  ci- 
ther." 

"They  are  both  good  doctors.  Tell  me 
this  -did  the  injection  relieve  you?" 
"Yes,  it  did." 

"It  would  have  been  better  if  it  hadn't, 
in  my  judgment." 

"Why  do  you  say  that.  Doctor?" 

"  If  you  should  get  in  the  habit  of  taking 
morphine  for  the  seizures,  it  would  be  the 
worse  for  you." 

"Nothing  could  be  worse!" 

"Oh  yes,  it  could,  my  dear  young  lady. 
Now.  supposing  I  examine  you.  After  the 
examination,  I  hope  I  may  have  something 
helpful  to  suggest." 

"  I  do  hope  you  can  help  me.  Doctor.  I'm 
willing  to  do  anything,  for  my  part." 

"  I  am  sure  you  are,  and  you  may  be  sure 
I  shall  try." 

"Well,  Doctor,"  was  the  patient's  eager 
question,  a  half  hour  later,  "did  you  find 
anything  to  account  for  my  trouble?" 

"  I  certainly  found  enough.  I  want  to  ask 
you  a  few  more  questions  to  make  sure  I 
haven't  missed  anything." 

"From  the  way  you  speak,  there  must 
be  more  than  one  thing  that  could  give  me 
all  this  distress." 

"There  are  a  number.  Pelvic  lesions, 
allergies,  endocrine  disturbances  and  me- 
chanical causes  are  the  most  common,  how- 
ever. I  want  to  make  sure  that  there  aren't 
two  or  more  of  them  working  together.  The 
matter  of  pelvic  lesions  I  have  already  dis- 
posed of  by  my  examination.  Though  a 
very  young  woman,  you  are  not  difficult  to 
examine,  and  your  internal  organs  are  quite 
normal,  at  least  structurally.  That  elimi- 
nates a  good  big  class  of  possible  trouble- 
makers. An  infected  tube  or  a  cystic  ovary 
could  be  responsible  for  all  your  symptoms, 
but  I  am  satisfied  that  such  is  not  the  case. 
I  have  not  questioned  you  about  allergies. 
How  about  them?" 

"  I  haven't  any." 

"Are  you  sure  about  that?  Some  of  them 
are  quite  complex  and  well  hidden,  you 
(Continued  on  Page  182) 


AN    EXCITING    NEW  CREAM 


gives  long  life  to  your  beauty 


Viva  can  do  more  lor  you  in  a  half  liour  than  you  ever 
dreamed  possihie.  \  i\  \  is  so  amazing  that  you  can  see 
and  feel  the  difference  in  vour  skin  after  one  .'iO  minute 
application.  Lit  lie  lines  and  crc\  ices  on  the  face  and 
neck  seem  to  lill  and  vanish.  That  stiff.  dr\,  wrinkled 
feeling  disa|)pcars. 

I'his  new  exciting  cream  seems  to  restore  the  youthful 
elasticitv  of  the  skin  ...  a  lifeless  looking  skin  \sill 
a])pear  to  have  new  life. 

Viv.\  perks  up  the  slackness  of  tired,  tense  skin.  All 
this  and  morel  Viva  softens  and  smooths  the  skin. 
Sensitive  and  dry  skin  respond  to  its  soothing  effects. 
Viva  acts  to  recapture  that  hahy-smoothness  of  the  skin 
and  bring  about  younger-looking  beauty. 

Frances  Denney  promises  that  your  precious  beauty 
can  have  long  life  when  you  use  Viva  faithfully. 

$750 

plus  tax 


Frances  Denney  preparations  are  sold  in  the  cosmetic  department  of  fine 
stores— or  ivrite  Frances  Denney,  Philadelphia. 


L   A    I)    I     K    S  •       II    O    M    E       JOUR    N    A  I, 


March, 


[fS^W  the  shining  diflerena 

BRIUO  soap  pack 

is  jeweler^  polish ! 

TWICE  THE  SHINE-IN  HALF  THE  TIME  ! 


Stove  burners  gleam  in  a  twin- 
kling! A  sturdy  metal-fiber  Brillo® 
pad  just  lifts  off  crust  and  scorch! 
Every  fiber  in  every  Brillo  pad  is 
triangular — has  three  scouring 
edges  for  faster  cleaning. 


Creasy,  crusty  pans  wear  you 
out?  Now — no  more  scrubbing! 
Brillo  gets  you  out  of  the  kitchen 
fast.  Scours,  cleans  and  shines 
all  at  once!  Tests  prove  Brillo  gives 
twice  the  shine— in  half  the  time.' 


\ 


Faucets,  counter  trim- 
all  fixtures — a  quick  touch 
of  the  Brillo  pad  and  they 
glisten!  Scientific  shine  meter 
tests  prove  Brillo  outshines 
all  other  cleansers  tested! 


Keeps  coffee  pots  fresh 

and  sweet!  No  more  "old- 
coffee"  taste.  Brillo  keeps  all 
your  aluminums  clean  and 
bright  as  new — because 
Brillo  has  jeweler's  polish! 


BRILLO-YOUR  BEST  BUT 

/P/o/B  mefa/f/berin  BR/UO! 
More  po/fshing  soap  fn  SR/LIO/ 
More  pack  io  fhe  BR/UO  box/ 
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THRIFTIER_5-°I2  PAD 


BRILLO  Soap  Pods 

(Red  box)  Soap-filled  pads 

BRILLO  Cleanser 

(Green  box)  Pads  plus  cake  soap 
Brillo  Mfg.  Co.,  Brooklyn.  N.'' 


4M»NNi|»  I|||<»||| 

■•«'0|>l«>  \nu  know. 

K«lll»rN  voii  lik«'. 
mill  w  lull  K«»i>N  4»ii 

in  .'Ni'w  1  «»rk 


Jill-  (DoiiMc  HaiiK)  Howler  iliow*  cotlume  contullant  C.yiu 
lliiii  Mi-Ailoo  illiiHtnitiiiii  for  llic  novel,  J^niry'ii  Kvi-. 


NO'I'  only  <I<M-H  I  lie  ymiiiu  iirtixt 
ill  llic  |ii<'tiiri-  uilli  i'vnlliia 
Mr.iiliMf  sliirl  t>ir  in  iIh-  JOIKNXI. 
lliiri  iiiniit  li.  ImiI  Ik-  sI  iirl  s  iiir  w  i  I  Ii  a 
doiiliU-  Itaii;:!  His  iiaiiii-  in  ./<>•' 
Ihnrlfr,  aii<l  you'll  iiolicr  Ik-'h  il- 
Iiistrat<-(l  liolli  .|<>iirii<'y''M  Kvo  aii<l 
No  Lovf  l,ik<-  <hir  l.ovc.  "I  (irnl  koI 
all  wrapiM'tl  ii|i  in  Journey^  Kvo  — 
look  iiir  IMO  ufcks  t<> 
<lo  tlx-  ilrauiiifis,"  lie 
loUl  ('yiilliia,  OIK-  of 
whose  many  Jolts  on 
theJOl  KNAl.  is  l<i  a«  l 
as  coiisiiltaiit  to  (lie 
illuslralors  on  all 
qiit'slioiis  of  cIoIIk-s. 
Joe  is  l«enly-(ive,  lias 
a  tlaii^liler  si\  iiioni  lis 
old,  anil  a  Ix-aiilifiil 
wile  who  looks  so 
iiiii<:li  like  Antoniu  in 
J  o  11  r  n  e  )  '  s  v  e .  w  e 
tlioii{siit  she'll  heeii 
his  inoilel.  She  hailii'l 
been.  Joe  said,  "IJiil  I 
;:ucss  1  must  have  liatl 
her  in  my  minil." 


A  lovely  lady  from  I^ndon  slopperl  in 
at  the  Workshop  the  other  day  and 
over  tea  with  lUTnanlhn'  hifliy, 
in  the  P^nlertainmenl  Rixjin.  talked 
about  the  Peslalozzi  Children's  Vil- 
lage in  TroKcn,  Switzerland,  where 
L!(X)  little  war  orphans  receive  a  na- 
tional education  in  an  international 


Dorothy  Cameron 
Disney  was  telUnn 
Glenn  If  Kile  how  in- 
terested the  taxi  drivers 
were  in  what  she  was  doing  while  she  was 
interviewing  the  reunited  couples  for  her 
series.  Can  This  Marriage  Be  Saved? — 
Los  Angeles  being  so  vast,  the  taxi  trips 
there  so  long.  One  in  particular,  she  said, 
asked  many  questions,  then  told  her  he 
and  his  wije  were  separated— mother- 
in-law  trouble;  and  by  the  time  he'd 
dropped  Dorothy  at  the  Atnerican  In- 
stitute of  Family  Relations,  had  de- 
cided to  get  the  institute's  advice.  So 
pleased  he  wouldn't  take  a  tip. 

Recently  when  Beatrice  Gould  was 
dining  next  to  .Sir  William  Tlaley  at 
Lady  Stella  Readinu's  lo\ely  old 
house  in  London,  the  new  editor  of 
The  Times  (London)  told  her  he  and 
Lady  Haley  have  always  heen  so  de- 
voted to  the  JOtK.N'AI.  that  during 
\^orld  War  II  they  kept  two  sub- 
scriptions going.  If  one  copy,  con- 
sidering all  the  shipping  that  was 
sunk,  didn't  make  it,  he  explained, 
the  other  might. 

"And  how  I  like  the  domestic  hu- 
mor of  the  cartcMins:"  he  told  our 
coeditor.  "Domestic  humor  anil 
domestic  problems  seem  the  same 
the  world  over." 


In  the  Kntertaininent  Room,  Mrs.  Buchanan  tells 
Bernardino  Kielty  about  her  Cliildren's  Village. 


setting.  The  lady,  Mr.s.  Mary 
Hiichanitn,  told  Bernardine  she'd 
been  traveling  all  over  North  America 
telling  people  about  it.  hoping,  she 
told  Mary  Bass,  to  make  a  dream 
come  true:  an  international  war  or- 
phans' village  in  the  United  States. 
Anyone  have  any  suggestions  for  her? 


Happens  that  just  as  this 
JOUR>  VL  appears.  Cine- 
rama will  be  making  its 
(irst  appearance  outside 
INew  York.  So  we're  glad 
Fred  tf  tiller.  Cinerama's 
inventor,  had  his  explan- 
atory niiidel  read>  anil 
could  bring  it  to  the 
\\  orkshop  in  lime  for  t  his 
issue.  You've  heard  how 
his  revolutionary  devel- 
opment in  motion  pic- 
tures has  been  the  smash 
hit  of  the  Broadway  sea- 
son, and  how  its  hitherto 
unheard-of  realism  has 
had  packed  audiences 
hanging  onto  the  arms 
of  their  chairs  as  the 
whole  theater  seems  to 
make  dizzv  dives  down 


of  II  roller  loiialrr.  liiil 
Mdi've  lei  it  lake  voii 
iiig  Ifiiir  from  I  he 
I'ai'ilie  in  I  In-  |>lii>i  ie 
liiiiiipiiiii 
I'- 


ll 


I  he  i-hiilo 
vtail  iiiilil 
on  II  Nighl-N 
Alliinlie  III  1 1 
noHi*  Iff  II  iMfiiibiT  v^ill 
rai'iiii:  (lilol  /'nut  \liiiifz.  ui 
off  llie  trip  eari'i'iiiiig  von  erii/ilt 
tbroiigli  eaiivoiiH.  lea\inK  you  limp. 
"%oii  Hff  \ni\%  Hiniple  il  in."  |-'re<l 
W  iiller  told  Miirv  l.ra  I'age,  with  ihe 
mmmIcI   lielui-en   I  hem.  "'I'hree-vtuy 

•  aiiiiran.  llire<-\»a\  iirojeetorx.  a 
LTiiil  wiile  <'iir%iiiu  •.ireeii."  .  .  . 
"Kill  ir-,jiiH|  like  I  be  ihrilliiiK  aerial- 
!.'iiiiiiery  trainer  Ihey  let  liie  Iry  out 

•  luring  ihe  v«.'ir."  saiil  Mrs.  I*.  .  .  . 

I  bat  *H  liou  t!ifi<*raiii^  Nliirti*(l."Haid 
M  r.  W  .  "  Thai  «  as  my  invention  I<h»." 

Let's  see  if  we  can  gel  this  straight. . .  . 
When  .\ora  (Vl^ary  had  her  first 
baby,  Stephen,  she  made  herself  two 
especially  pretty  short  nightgowns  for 
her  hospital  receiving-visitor  days. 
Then  Daicn  .\ornian  borrowed 
them  when  she  was  having  her  first 
baby,  and  added  one  or  two  besides, 
lending  the  whole  collection  to  Nora's 
assistant.  .Marion  If'il.son,  when 
Marion  you  know  what.  Then  back 
to  Nora  for  Wendy,  with  Nora  adding 
a  pretty  bed  jacket;  and  now  back 
again  to  Dawn  for  her  second  child; 
and  promised  afterward  to  Marion 
again,  who's  expecting  her  second  in 
June.  Peripatetic  hospital  wardrobe 
of  our  own  young  marrieds.  we  call  it. 

Ilttrnfin  h*'in::s  are  arturinfi  Inn/ier 
sentntl  t<tes,  acrttrilins   fo  ftHtt 
perl.s.  u7i<»  livliexe  this  Ireinl  is  flue 
tit  ttUHlt'rn  shin's. 


"See  how  simple  it  is,"  says  Cincrdma  inventor 
Fred  Waller,  demonstrating  model  to  Mary  Page. 


TIIK  .|()llRNAi;S 

IN  (Mr:  issnK 
(:om)i-:nsi:ii 

riic   ((illc^^c  .III  lioiir 

aj^o.  It)  1(1111-  liiiiii|ii-(|  \iiiiiii.  Mini 
and  wdiiicM  was  now  iicarK  ilrsi  ricd.  ( Inls  llic  |iii. 
lessors  were  Icll  in  llicii-  icsidciilial  (|uarlcrs,  coni- 
ph'liii^  llicif  |tackiiif^  liclorc  lca\iii^  (or  ilic  Kaslcr 
vacalioii.  Tlic  <  (illcj;c  was  siliialcd  in  tin-  villaf^c  of 
licnliain.  iiol  inariy  miles  IVomi  l.oiidon.  Only  iIhtc 
veliii  N's  now  slood  in  llic  conrl:  Iwo  were  vcncialilr 
niacliincs  nscd  as  laxis;  llic  lliird  was  a  lon^,  low 
S|)orls  car,  and  toward  this  a  yoiiiifi  man  was  walkin<;, 
his  arms  laden  willi  hooks,  ilis  earelree  inannei-,  llic 
jannlincss  ol  his  jiail.  aho\ c  all  llic  melodious  Irills 
he  wliislled,  [loinled  lo  one  lacl:  he  was  very  lia|i|)y. 

lie  sellled  himself  al  ihe  wheel  and  sal  for  a  lew 
iiiomenis  lakinji  in  ihe  stillness  and  hcanl\  of  llie 
couiilryside.  lie  looked  al  the  iresh  green  ol  llie 
trees,  iiilerspersed  here  and  ihero  with  darker  j^reen 
or  copper;  al  the  lake,  shimmerini^  in  ihe  sun,  with 
a  bank  of  j^orse  flaming  hehind  it.  He  had  nev(!r 
nolieed  .  .  .  well,  no,  he  remeinhercd,  he  liadu'l  been 
here  last  spring,  and  next  spring  would  find  him 
settled  in  Africa,  with  an  interesting  tan  and  a  sup- 
ply of  linen  suits.  It  wouldn't  be  a  nice  friendly  sun 
like  this.  It  wouldn't  be  a  soft  English  countryside. 

He  was  glad  to  have  seen  the  college  like  this — 
calm,  quiet  and  sunlit — on  his  last  day  here.  He 
had  not  enjoyed  his  studies,  but  he  could  con- 
gratulate himself  on  having  passed  his  examina- 
tions. It  was  not  a  very  good  pass;  he  stood  three 
hundred  and  thirtieth  in  a  list  of  three  hundred  and 
eighty — but  it  was  a  pass.  It  was  depressing  to  feel 
that  there  were  three  hundred  and  twenty-nine 
brains  better  than  his  own,  but  one  couldn't  have 
everything;  he  recalled  with  contempt  the  fifty  men- 
tally retarded  students  who  formed  the  tail  of  the  pass 
list,  and  told  himself  that  he  hadn't  done  too  badly. 

His  pleasure  in  the  day,  or  his  pride  in  his  prowess, 
gave  him  an  unwonted  sense     (Coniinued  on  Page  ii5) 

Copyright,  1953.  by  Elizabeth  Cadell.  This  is  a  condensation 
of  the  novel  soon  to  be  published  by  William  Morrow  &  Co. 


'  Aaa^  /leper  m  /m 
4^  /leard  oft/m 
to  /i//iom 

/le  was  e/igaged!' 


IT  was  a  divine  week  in  New  York.  A  new 
musical  opened  on  46th  Street  and  showed 
every  sign  of  being  a  smash  hit.  The  mayor 
announced  the  uncovering  of  a  bigger-than- 
ever  gambhng  syndicate.  In  Brooklyn,  the 
Dodgers  acquired  a  new  pitcher.  What  the 
Daily  News  called  a  "Love  Nest  Slaying"  was 
happily  spread  over  the  front  pages.  A  sub- 
way strike  threatened,  and  a  civet  cat  escaped 
from  the  Central  Park  Zoo  and  headed  straight 
as  an  arrow  for  Bergdorf  Goodman's. 

Unfortunately,  all  this  was  lost  on  Mrs. 
Horace  Basset,  of  Beacon  Hill,  Boston.  The 
civet's  distinguished  performance  substanti- 
ated no  ideas  she  entertained  about  the  im- 
peccability of  taste  in  cats.  She  detested  New 
York.  It  was,  in  a  word,  rowdy,  vulgar  and 
pretentious. 

The  shops  held  no  temptations  for  Mrs. 
Basset.  While  she  waited  with  the  patient 
dignity  befitting  a  lady  for  the  lawyers  to  set- 
tle her  brother's  estate,  she  spent  her  time 
walking  in  Central  Park,  which  was  conven- 
iently close  to  the  Plaza,  but  nowhere  near  so 
well  kept  as  the  Common.  Browsed  through 


the  Metropolitan  Museum,  which  admittedly 
owned  some  lovely  things,  but  cheapened 
them  by  calling  attention  to  them.  The  Mu- 
seum of  Fine  Arts  did  it  better.  Went  to 
Carnegie  Hall,  but  the  Philharmonic  lacked 
the  charm  poor,  dear  Mr.  Koussevitzky  had 
given  the  Boston  Symphony. 

Really,  the  only  thing  Mrs.  Basset  enjoyed 
in  New  York  were  the  seals  in  Central  Park. 
She  watched  them  every  morning  from  nine 
to  twelve.  Besides  Mrs.  Basset,  the  seals  had 
another  devoted  admirer:  a  man  in  a  black 
Homburg  who  carried  a  silver-headed  cane 
and  had  a  pleasant  foreign  air  about  him. 
After  the  first  morning  he  tipped  his  hat  to 
Mrs.  Basset. 

Mrs.  Basset  ignored  the  greeting.  No  Bos- 
tonian  ever  acknowledged  any  greeting  with- 
out a  proper  introduction.  But  one  cannot 
spend  three  hours  every  morning  with  a  man 
beside  the  seal  pool  and  not  notice  him.  To 
notice  leads  naturally  to  thinking,  and  Mrs. 
Basset  had  very  little  to  occupy  her  mind. 

The  stranger  was  tall  and  very  well  built. 

It  would  be  (Continued  on  Page  104) 


By  VAL  GENDRON 


Her  breath  caught  a  little  in  her  throat. 

"My  relatives  would  be  scandalized,"  she  said 


Time  was  runnlnig  away,  faster,  faster.  And  there  was  still  so  much  to  say — 

all  the  important  things  he  had  never  said. 


THAT  morning,  when  Ben  Hartford 
came  down  to  breakfast,  his  wife  wore 
a  light  dress,  and  her  cheeks  were  touched 
with  color,  and  her  skin  looked  fresh  and 
clean  and  almost  dewy. 

"Mary,"  he  said  impulsively,  "you  look 
just  like  a  rose  this  morning."  It  was  not  at 
all  the  sort  of  thing  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
saying,  and  as  soon  as  it  was  out  he  thought 
how  foolish  it  must  sound. 

But  she  didn't  quite  hear  him.  She  was 
at  the  sink  and  the  water  was  running,  and 
she  turned  around  and  said,  "What,  Ben? 
What  did  you  say  about  my  nose?" 

He  was  relieved,  and  at  the  same  time 
disappointed.  "I  said  there's  a  smudge  on 
your  nose,"  he  lied,  "but  there  isn't.  It 
must  have  been  a  shadow." 

"Oh.  Well,  sit  down,  dear.  Everything's 
ready,"  she  told  him. 

He  unfolded  the  morning  paper  and 
propped  it  against  the  water  glass.  Break- 
fast was  a  quiet  meal,  now  that  the  boys 
had  gone  back  to  college,  now  that  Nancy 
was  married,  and  it  suddenly  seemed  a  very 
long  time  since  there  had  been  three  noisy 


children  around  the  table.  Ben  looked  up, 
as  if  to  reassure  himself  that  Mary  was  still 
there,  and  she  smiled. 
"More  coffee?" 

"Just  half  a  cup."  There  was  a  quick 
grace  about  the  way  her  hands  moved 
among  the  breakfast  things.  Ben  always 
enjoyed  watching  those  sure  hands  that 
never  spilled  things,  never  slopped  the  cof- 
fee into  the  saucer,  never  jarred  the  table. 
He  hadn't  told  Mary  about  it,  though. 
Never  once  in  all  these  years  they  had  been 
together.  "Mary,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  Ben?"  She  looked  up  inquiringly. 

He4iesitated.  "Please  pass  the  sugar,"  he 
said,  and  retired  into  his  paper.  Breakfast, 
after  all,  was  hardly  the  time  to  start  mak- 
ing pretty  speeches.  He  turned  pages 
briskly,  covering  the  inexplicable  con- 
fusion he  felt. 

When  he  was  leaving  the  house,  Mary 
stood  in  the  sunny  doorway  with  him,  and 
he  thought  again  how  lovely  she  looked. 
He  cleared  his  throat  noisily  and  said, 
"Uh— I'll  be  home  at  the  usual  time,"  and 
bent  to  receive  her  kiss.  He  felt  that  same 


tongue-tied  confusion  again.  He  pulled  the 
car  away  from  the  house  so  fast  that  the 
tires  squealed,  to  his  irritation. 

He  was  not  himself  this  morning.  It  was 
the  sort  of  thing  you  could  put  down  as 
spring  fever,  only  this  didn't  happen  to  be 
spring.  It  was,  in  fact,  rather  a  strange  sort 
of  day,  heavy  with  a  languid  heat  that 
didn't  belong  to  this  time  of  year,  a  brassy 
sun  striking  cruelly  on  dead  leaves  and  yel- 
lowing grass.  A  sort  of  afterthought,  that 
was  what  the  day  was.  As  if  summer  had 
come  back  briefly,  to  pick  up  something 
forgotten,  to  finish  something  left  undone, 
or,  perhaps,  to  say  something  left  unsaid. 

Something  left  unsaid. 

The  phrase  caught  in  his  mind,  like  a 
thread  that  catches  on  a  broken  fingernail. 
He  had  left  something  unsaid  this  morning. 

Well — he  clashed  the  gears  angrily — 
that  was  all  right.  Mary  would  think  he'd 
lost  his  reason  if  he  suddenly  started  spout- 
ing mush.  They  didn't  talk  to  each  other 
like  a  couple  of  characters  in,  a  soap  opera. 
"You  look  like  a  rose  this  morning."  What 
a  lot  of  nonsense!         (Contivued  on  Page  178) 


EZRA  STOLLER 


From  its  granite  base  to  the  leaden  eagle  surmounting  the  captain'i 
walk,  the  house  does  honor  to  Maine's  early  master  builders. 


The  dining-room  carpet  and  cornice  are  tours  de  force  of  reproduction;  the  former  from  an  1820  carpet  found  in  Massachusetts; 
the  latter  from  the  famous  Kavanaugh  mansion  al  Newcastle,  Maine.  The  1840  wallpaper  is  Dufour's  Conquest  of  Peru. 


■I  i 


By  llic  (l('>k  III  llic  i!i  aw  1 


.1  |Miiirail  nl  riioiiias  McCobb  (lone  four  years  before  be  built  ibc 


be  wooilwiirk  i  dImi  -  are  as  ibey  Nseri-  urit^inally. 


This  bedroom,  directly  above  tbe  drawing  room  in  the  old  [)art  of  the  house,  carries  on  with  the  bright  theme  of 
colorfulness,  here  done  with  green  on  walls  and  windows.  The  furnishings  reflect  the  owners' affection  for  the  house. 


Archilcotural  Editor  of  llie  Journal 

1806,  in  the  shipbuilding  village  of  Phippsburg 
•nter,  seven  miles  down  the  Kennebec  from  Bath, 
ivell-to-do  young  sea  trader  named  Capt.  Thomas 
cCobb,  commanding  the  best  of  builders'  books 
d  ship-carpentry  talent,  put  up  this  house  to  get 
ck  at  his  widowed  stepmother  for  something  she 
i  or  didn't  do— it  doesn't  matter  which  any  more. 
3  to  then,  her  own  occupancy  of  the  McCobb 
mily  mansion  close  by  carried  with  it  consider- 
le  eclat,  for  it  had  been  the  finest  house  in  all 
at  part  of  Maine.  But  the  magnitude  and  eye 
peal  of  Thomas'  new  home  were  such  as  to  set 
e  older  house  completely  in  the  shade  and  dim 
i  prestige.  That  this  had  been  Thomas'  intention 
I  along,  in  the  minds  of  his  neighbors,  accounts 
r  the  name  his  house  took  on  and  still  retains. 
In  1925,  Spite  House  caught  the  eye  of  a  con- 
)isseur  able  to  have  it  loaded  on  an  enormous  barge 
id  towed  eighty  miles  up  the  coast  to  a  wooded 
loll  on  Deadman's  Point  at  Rockport.  And  a  good 
ing  it  is  for  the  stepmother's  ghost  that  it  was 
ken  so  far  away  from  Phippsburg.  For  what  had 
■en  mere  handsomeness  before  is  magnificence  now. 


■Nsa. 


dear — not  facing  the  sea,"  Aunt 
Sarah  said  firmly  as  she  waddled  across 
the  garden.  "Turn  my  chair  the  other  way.  1 
don't  like  to  be  reminded  of  That  Pair." 
Which,  of  course,  was  something  that  Terry 
should  have  remembered  now  that  she  had 
been  almost  a  month  in  Rowanmore. 

Obediently,  she  shifted  the  chair  so  that 
Aunt  Sarah  should  be  spared  the  view  across 
the  bay  to  where  Cousin  Robert's  house  might 
be  glimpsed  squatting  at  the  foot  of  purple 
Mount  Neelin.  As  always  when  That  Pair  were 
attacked  by  her  aunt  or  her  parents,  she 
wanted  to  defend  them. 

"After  all.  Aunt  Sarah,  it's  twenty  years 
since  Cousin  Robert  and  Mrs.  Fenelon  ran 
away  together,"  she  pointed  out.  To  Terry, 
who  was  nineteen,  it  seemed  very  ancient  his- 
tory. "And,  anyway,  they're  married  now." 


"And  how  long  have  they  been  married?" 
Aunt  Sarah  demanded.  "A  bare  twelve  months. 
If  we  all  live  to  be  a  hundred,  we'll  never  live 
down  the  shame  and  disgrace  they  brought  on 
a  family  that  was  always  respectable  and 
looked  up  to." 

"They  sacrificed  so  much  for  love,"  Terry 
said  softly,  looking  out  across  the  bay. 

"More  fools  they!"  said  Aunt  Sarah  com- 
fortably. As  pursy  and  as  cozy  as  a  bumble- 
bee, she  lowered  herself  into  the  chair  and 
prepared  to  enjov  her  afternoon  rest.  "Robert 
threw  up  the  best  law  practice  in  the  West  of 
Ireland.  Mary  Fenelon  threw  away  a  lovely 
home  and  a  steady,  well-to-do  husband.  And 
for  what?  To  spend  the  best  years  of  their 
lives  sneaking  around  the  cities  of  Europe 
while  they  lived  on  half  nothing.  And  now 
that  her  husband's  after  dying  and  giving 


them  the  chance  to  marry  and  Robert's  after 
coming  in  for  that  bit  of  money  from  his 
mother,  they  have  the  cheek  to  come  back 
here  to  end  their  days.  We  may  be  thankful  at 
least  that  there's  a  good  score  of  miles  by  road 
between  us  and  them." 

"Why  shouldn't  they  come  back?"  Terry 
asked.  "Weren't  they  born  here?  Maybe  they 
love  Connemara.  Maybe  they  pined  for  it  all 
the  time  they  were  away." 

For  the  moment,  Aunt  Sarah  had  had  her 
say  about  That  Pair.  She  had  no  intention  of 
letting  an  argument  about  them  disturb  her 
afternoon.  Nor  had  she  any  intention  of  al- 
lowing Terry  to  go  too  deeply  into  such  a 
shameful  topic. 

"Why  don't  you  bring  out  a  chair  for  your- 
self?" she  invited.  "A  little  rest  in  the  shade 
would  do  you  good."       (Continued  on  Page  206) 


FROM   THE  CHESTER  DALE  COLLECTION 


PORTRAIT  OF  DORA  MAAR 

PABLO  PICASSO  (1881-  ! 

Of  all  the  artists  of  our  time,  Picasso  is  gen-     my  whole  life  and  of  all  my  work."  Yet  his  pic-  tack  and  defense  against  the  enemy."  Yet  most 

erally  accepted  as  the  greatest  genius.  His  career     tures,  on  the  whole,  are  despised  by  the  Com-  of  hiscanvaseshangin  thehomesofhis"enemy," 

certainly  involves  the  most  striking  paradoxes.     munist  Party.  He  is  a  propagandist  who  has  the  rich,  and  he  is  probably  the  most  highly 

He  is  a  communist  who  has  stated,  "My  ad-  declared,  "Painting  is  not  done  to  decorate  paid  painter  of  all  times.  He  is  a  disparager  of 
herence  to  the  party  is  the  logical  outcome  of     apartments.  It  is  an  instrument  of  war  for  at-  (Continued  on  Page  186) 


* 


Tlie  Cons(  i«  iUi(.us  iloclor  should  cai  n  a  r.  aM.iial.lr  lisinn. 

>vitli  s,Turit>  f(.r  his  .>M  aj:.-.  I.<il  sliouhl  nol  .  x,m<  I  or  Ii  n 
U.  l«  (<.iMea  N*<allh.v  man  Iroin  llu-  r>i;i<  li<«- of  lii-  wnir^'-U,,,.  - 

im.  JOHN  r.  r.  iii  ndij  ^, 

/'<i»f  iiri->i,l,„l .  Mfiliriil  Stiiivly  iif  I  irninia 

By  SIDrSEY  SHALE  IT 


It  was  not  so  long  ago  in  America  lliat 
there  was  something  sacred  ahout 
the  word  ''doctor. "  An  aura  of  affection 
arid  even  mysticism  surrounded  the 
family  physician,  who  was  regarded  as 
a  combination  of  friend  and  father.  He 
was  kindly  and  selfless;  he  took  care  of 
you  when  you  were  sick  and  scared;  he 
sat  up  nights  to  pull  your  child  from 
death's  door,  and  sometimes  he  forgot  to 
send  his  bills. 

Now  there  is  a  sickness  within  tlie 
medical  profession  itself,  an  ailment  that 
has  grown  up  with  the  inflationary,  get- 
rich-quick  era  beginning  in  the  early 
twenties.  It  is  a  complex  disease,  affect- 
ing some,  not  all;  in  its  victims  the  cancer 
cells  of  greed  and  seUishness  can  engulf 
and  blot  out  the  corpuscles  of  humility, 
self-dedication  and  devotion  that  are  the 
lifeblood  of  medicine.  Sometimes  it  goes 
hand  in  hand  with  incompetence.  One  of 
its  symptoms  is  a  rash  of  malpractice 
suits  against  doctors — evidence  that  all 
is  not  well  in  the  house  of  medicine. 

Discussing  the  situation  with  me.  Dr. 
George  F.  Lull,  secretary  and  general 
manager  of  the  American  Medical  Asso- 
ciation, summed  up  the  malpractice 
problem  as  follows : 

"It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  medical  profession  is  being 
damaged  seriously  by  the  mistakes  of  a 
very  small  percentage  of  malpractitioners 
within  its  ranks. 

'These  mistakes— sometimes  caused 
by  incompetence,  sometimes  by  uneth- 


ical practices — cannot  be  tolerated,  be- 
cause often  they  are  paid  for  nol  in 
dollars  but  in  human  lives. 

'  It  cannot  be  denied  that  doctors — 
individually  and  through  their  profes- 
sional societies — usually  are  reluctant 
to  take  firm,  positive  action  to  purge 
their  own  ranks  of  the  relatively  few 
incompetents. 

"The  situation  must  be  corrected.  The 
malpractitioners  must  be  expelled  before 
there  is  further  loss  of  public  confidence 
in  the  medical  profession.  We  should  not 
hide  these  things.  They  must  be  brought 
into  the  open." 

The  number  of  doctors  who  are  in- 
competent, or  who  are  infected  with  the 
destructive  new  greed-sickness,  fortu- 
nately, is  relatively  few.  The  majority  of 
physicians  remain  what  they  should  be — 
competent  men  of  medicine,  who  place 
humanity  above  the  dollar  sign,  men  who 
best  represent  our  civilization.  They  are 
beginning  to  see  that  the  few  incompe- 
tents and  dollar  chasers  are  doing  incal- 
culable harm  to  their  profession. 

While  investigating  medical-malprac- 
tice suits,  I  heard  of  numerous  incidents 
which  were  symptomatic  of  the  crisis 
that  the  few  have  brought  upon  the  many 
in  the  medical  profession. 

One  case  in  a  large  Eastern  city  in- 
volved a  delivery -room  accident.  The 
facts  were  told  to  me,  not  by  an  injured 
patient  but  by  an  attorney  whose  entire 
practice  is  devoted  to  defense  of  mal- 
practice cases. 


Here,  in  his  own  words,  is  llie  story: 
"The  patient  was  delivered  in  a  small 
private  hospital.  The  delivety  was  at- 
tempted by  the  family  physician.  After 
much  harm  had  been  done,  he  call^  in 
an  experienced  obstetrician  who  com- 
pleted the  delivery.  The  woman  sus- 
tained a  ruptured  bladder  and  a  fracture 
of  the  pelvis  and  the  patella  (kneecap). 
A  urologist  was  then  called  in  to  repair 
the  bladder,  and  after  this  an  orthopedist 
undertook  to  correct  the  fractures.  The 
fracture  of  the  pelvis,  of  course,  had  been 
recognized,  but  the  patella  was  com- 
pletely overlooked.  During  the  course  of 
applying  the  cast  for  the  fractured  pelvis, 
manipulations  resulted  in  a  breakdown  of 
the  bladder  repair.  The  patient  had  a 
long  convalescence  and  was  put  to  great 
expense.  Fortunately,  the  baby  survived 
it  all." 

This  case  went  to  trial  but  was  settled 
in  court  for  a  sizable  amount.  The  phy- 
sician who  bungled  the  delivery  and  in- 
flicted the  incredible  harm  on  the  woman 
still  is  practicing. 

In  all  fairness,  it  must  be  emphasized 
that  not  all  medical  accidents  are  mal- 
practice. Medicine  never  was  an  exact 
science;  too  many  imponderables  enter 
into  human  reactions  to  various  tj'pes  of 
treatment.  As  one  eminent  specialist 
commented,  there  is  an  "irreducible 
minimum"  of  mishaps,  and  these  can 
happen  to  the  most  experienced  practi- 
tioners. No  doctor,  however  competent 

or  blameless,  is  (Continued  on  Page  192) 


As  a  Moslem  bride,  Narriman  had  no  part  in  the  wedding  ceremony;  her  mother  signed  the  mar- 
riage bond.  Three  months  later  Farouk  sent  his  oldest  sister,  Princess  Fawzia,  to  accompany 
his  bride  to  the  palace.  Entering,  Fawzia  whispered,  "Don't  forget  to  hold  your  head  high." 


.>.> 


iMiliiiiK  i-  lo  li.iK  iiilik,  .|iii  rn  »  |>rivu|r  ii|tarlriiciiir.  in 
( j»iro |i;iliiif  HiT<-  Niirriin.iii  ti\.-.|  will,  )„  i  .  .Mill  !„li,-. 


7 


To  be  a  queen  does  not  consist  in  ivearing 

costly  robes  nor  in  knowing  correct 
etiquette  at  Court.  Now  I  belonged  to  the  people/' 


to  KLAUS  BLOEMKR 


oors  bt'fdic  in(%  aulomalically  pushing 
side  all  ohslaclcs. 

The  ambassador  of  Egypt,  His  Excellency 
iIhIcI  Aziz  Badr,  liad  received  me  when  I 
•It  the  plane,  lie  was  a  tall  man  witli  a  seri- 
us  mien  and  snow-white  hair,  although  he 
as  only  forty-seven  years  old. 

His  wife  accompanied  him.  Slie  looked  at 
le  with  a  curiosity  which  she  was  not  able 
iitirely  to  hide,  in  spite  of  her  diplomatic 
■aining. 

1  lelt  a  slight  shock  as  I  became  aware  that 
^-en  here,  so  far  from  home,  there  were  peo- 
le  who  had  already  heard  much  of  me. 

The  Egyptian  embassy  in  Rome  occupies 
lie  of  the  most  beautiful  villas  of  the  city, 
his  is  the  famous  Villa  Savoia,  where  for- 
lerly  the  Italian  royal  family  resided.  The 
•ms  of  the  embassy  are  carved  into  the  high 
itrance  gate.  On  this  particular  afternoon 
le  gardens  were  full  of  flowers  of  all  colors, 
id  the  air  was  heavy  with  the  perfume  of 
ossoming  trees.  Everything  I  saw  seemed 
arvelowsly  new  and  strange  to  me. 

The  ambassador  had  had  an  apartment 
epared  for  me  on  the  third  floor.  Smiling, 
;  told  me  that  Queen  Elena  of  Italy  had 
i^ed  in  these  very  rooms.  Nothing  had 
langed,  neither  the  furniture  nor  the  paint- 
gs.  Many  of  her  favorite  knickknacks  were 
ill  standing  about.  They  had  remained 
bere  she  had  put  them.  The  beautiful  crys- 
I  chandeliers  sparkled  in  the  light.  When, 
ter  dinner  that  evening,  I  sat  before  the 
essing  table  to  comb  my  hair,  I  saw  the  re- 
■ction  of  the  richly  sculptured  bed  in  the 
irror  and  I  thought,  "In  a  few  moments  I 
all  for  the  first  time  be  sleeping  in  the  bed 

a  queen,  and  perhaps  someday  antique 
alers  will  say.  Two  queens,  one  European 
id  one  Oriental,  slept  in  this  bed.'" 
The  next  morning,  precisely  at  nine, 
)untess  Martellini  arrived  at  the  embassy 


to  take  up  her  functions  as  lady  in  waiting 
and  teacher.  Thus,  oflicially,  commencf-d  my 
preparation  for  the  life  of  a  reigning  sov- 
ereign of  Egypt.  Countess  Martellini  liad 
been  described  to  me  as  one  of  the  most  cul- 
tured and  experienced  ladies  of  Europe.  She 
had  been  lady  in  wailing  and  the  personal 
Iriend  of  one  of  the  princesses  of  the  royal 
family  of  Italy.  It  was  her  task  to  teach  me 
history  and  general  deportment  and  to  in- 
struct me  in  Court  etiquette,  which  is  a  very 
complicated  matter. 

I  had  imagined  her  to  be  a  large,  stern 
woman  and  was  sure  that  she  would  show  no 
indulgence  toward  my  mistakes.  It  was  with 
great  relief  that  I  found  her  to  be  of  about 
the  same  height  as  I  was,  and  in  spite  of 
her  gray  hair  she  was  mobile  and  full  of  life. 
She  greeted  me  with  the  most  amiable  smile 
imaginable.  She  spoke  so  softly  and  with 
such  a  delicate  inflection  that  I  felt  certain 
she  had  never  in  her  life  lost  her  temper 
or  raised  her  voice. 

Gently  she  took  my  hand  in  hers  and  said 
with  a  smile,  "I  am  sure  that  we  will  become 
very  good  friends,  my  dear,  and  if  you  wish 
to  call  me  by  my  first  name,  it  is  Lily." 

We  really  did  become  excellent  friends. 
She  was  extremely  gifted  and  possessed  a 
happy  and  lively  nature.  There  was  so  much 
to  learn  and  she  made  learning  easy  for  me. 
Everything,  of  course,  seemed  perfectly  nat- 
ural to  me. 

I  had  to  learn  the  etiquette  usual  to  a  for- 
eign embassy;  not  only  the  duties  to  be  ful- 
filled in  society  by  the  niece  of  an  ambassa- 
dor (for  it  was  as  such  that  I  had  been  intro- 
duced in  Rome)  but  also  the  innumerable 
duties  of  a  future  queen. 

Countess  Martellini  presented  me  with 
lists  and  it  was  my  task  correctly  to  enumer- 
ate the  persons  named,  in  the  order  of  their 

rank.  She  w  ould  (Continued  on  Page  167) 


E  MAW 


I,  Taw  Jameson,  grew  up  in  mountain 
poverty,  then  went  to  work  in  the  home  of 
Mr.  Heyward,  mill  owner  and  richest  man 
in  the  Southern  town  named  for  his  family. 
His  daughter,  Chloe  Heyward,  was  eight 
years  old  then,  and  so  exquisitely  beautiful 
that  her  ambitious  mother  kept  her  away 
from  other  children — made  Chloe  a  pris- 
oner, surrounded  by  wealth.  She  was  being 
educated  by  "Aunt  Lou"  Anderson,  Mr. 
Heyward's  elderly  cousin,  who  w%s  teaching 
me  too.  Chloe's  only  real  friend  was  Peter 
Mebane,  two  years  older,  son  of  the  town 
doctor.  Peter  vowed  that  he  would  never 
leave  Chloe,  but  I  knew  that  one  day  her 
mother  would  end  their  friendship. 

IVirs.  Heyward  was  thej  most  beautiful 
woman  I  had  ever  seen,  and  the  coldest.  She 
never  understood  Chloe's  heartbreak  when 
they  left  the  old  home  for  the  finest  house 
in  town — the  only  house  worthy  of  the 
Heywards'  position.  Mrs.  Heyward  hated 
Chloe's  love  for  her  old  nurse.  Nasturtium. 
And  when  Chloe,  at  twelve,  was  near  death 
from  pneumonia,  her  mother's  presence 
hurt  her,  never  helped.  Peter  had  drifted 
away,  but  he  Came  back  when  Chloe  was  get- 
ting well,  and  the  two  found  each  other 
again.  Aunt  Lou  came  to  live  with  the  Hey- 
wards for  what  was  to  be  her  last  illness,  but 
even  then  Mrs.  Heyward  didn't  interrupt 
her  plan?  for  the  most  important  social 
event  of  her  career — a  party  for  Prince  Kon- 
rad  von  Abensperg.  Prince  Konrad  obvi- 
ously wanted  to  be  more  than  friend  to  Mrs. 
Heyward.  She  hoped  only  that  he  could  get 
her  music  published,  but  her  way  with  the 
Prince  fooled  even  Mr.  Heyward.  After  Aunt 
Lou  died  on  the  very  night  of  the  big  party. 
Prince  Konrad  was  abruptly  sent  on  his  way. 


T  T  T  In  Heyward  nor  Clara  Bow  nor  the  Prince  of 
Wales  had  more  words  spent  on  them  than 
Chloe  the  year  she  was  fourteen.  You  could  hear 
about  her  at  the  dime  store  as  well  as  on  the  country- 
club  veranda.  To  be  in  on  the  making  of  a  legend 
is  no  sorry  pastime  and  people  fell  to  with  a  will. 
There  was  already  enough  of  Chloe  at  fourteen  for 
full-grown  Hey%\  ard  people  to  feel  she  was  worthy  of 
a  large  outlay  in  free  fancy.  On  the  creation  they 
made  in  Chloe's  name  they  spent  much  wonder, 
pity,  envy,  scorn  and  love.  They  understood  how  it 
was  no  more  likely  that  Chloe  could  ever  touch  into 
their  personal  real  lives  than  would  a  movie  star  or 
any  young  king-to-be. 

The  people  who  came  often  to  our  house  and  so 
sometimes  saw  Chloe  would  hear  their  own  remarks 
about  her  said  back  to  them,  woven  in  with  all  the 
town's  curiosity  and  imagining.  No  doubt  they  ar- 
gued and  explained,  but  in  the  end  their  own  words 
had  great  weight  with  them.  Some  of  them  seemed 
to  reason  that  maybe  there  was  something  odd 
about  a  child  who  didn't  kick  out  of  the  traces  and 
who  grew  so  fair  on  this  outlandish  rearing.  Kitty 
Heyward,  for  all  her  goings  on,  was  a  red-blooded 
practical  woman  and  there  were  several  saddened 
dealers  in  real  estate  to  prove  she  was  no  fool. 
Maybe  she  knew  her  own  child  and  what  she  was 
doing.  Certainly  the  children  must  go,  in  spite  of 
wails — "But,  mamma,  it's  gummy  there — and  we 
don't  knoiv  her!" — whenever  they  were  asked  to 
those  few  big  parties  for  Chloe.  Mrs.  Rains  did  say, 

"It  may  tickle  you-all  (Continued  on  Page  76) 

Copyright.  1953,  by  May  Davies  Martenet 


Peter  was  following  the  train  forward.  "There's  nowhere  you  'can 
put  her,'"  he  said,  "that  I  cant  get  to  in  the  end!' 


58 


By  Harlan  Miller 


We're  still  reluctant  to  throw  away  the  love- 
lier among  our  1952  Christmas  cards.  So  many 
(gilded  and  sculptured)  must  have  cost  at  least 
$1.  My  Lady  Love's  wistful  dream:  Maybe 
we'll  paste  our  own  qanies  over  the  senders' 
names  and  send  'em  out  ourselves  in  1953! 


Whenever  he  detects  somebody  worrying,  ( fur- 
rowed brow,  down-curled  lips)  our  club  philosopher 
consoles  "em  with  his  favorite  quotation:  "Remem- 
ber man  is  one  of  the  minor  manifestations  on  a 
second-rate  satellite  on  the  fringe  of  a  bush-league 
galaxy." 

Our  big  brains  at  the  round  table  have  reached 
another  important  luncheon  conclusion:  that 
the  man  whose  wife  gives  him  daily  signs  of 
warm  affection  can  look  the  boss  in  the  eye  bet- 
ter and  get  a  raise  quicker  than  the  man  whose 
wife  nags  him. 

"We've  caught  our  teen-ager  feeding  Canadian 
bacon  to  the  neighborhood  dogs,"  reports  Peter 
Comfort,  bleeding  slightly  as  he  attaches  new 
license  plates  on  his  car.  "We  deprived  him  of 
his  bacon  at  Sunday  brunch,  and  told  him  it  costs 
a  dollar  a  pound,  but  he  didn't  quit  till  we 
convinced  him  it  was  bad  for  the  dogs." 


One  of  our  block^s  five-year-old  stem-winders 
had  been  on  hunting  trips  and  knew  hunters^ 
lingo  by  the  lime  he  started  to  kindergarten.  .  .  . 
On  his  first  day  he  wangled  a  phone  and  called 
home.  "Mom"  he  yelled  indignantly  into  her  ear, 
"they^re  trying  to  make  a  damned  bead-stringer 
out  of  me!" 

Our  state's  thriftier  citizens  are  making  a  poor 
mouth  about  building  some  four-lane  highways. 
Luckily,  they've  enough  pride  to  wince  at  how 
shamefully  silly  they'll  feel  when  our  neighbor 
states  begin  to  dump  four-lane  traffic  into  our 
two-lane  concrete  cowpaths. 


At  last  our  youngest  has  solved  (a 
la  Tom  Sawyer)  the  riddle  of  the  heavy 
snow  shovel  and  the  deep  drifts  in  our 
driveway:  he  invites  his  neighborhood 
chums  to  transport  the  snow  to  build 
forts  and  redoubts  in  our  front  yard. 
(Under  his  close  supervision,  of  course.) 


It's  incredible  at  the  bridge  table  how  every 
allusion  a  man  makes  to  his  strange  adventures 
overseas  in  the  war  inevitably  reminds  the 
women  (before  he's  uttered  ten  words)  of  a 
dress  they  saw  downtown. 


That  streamlined  brave-new-world  wife  across 
the  street  who  gave  her  husband  a  rubber  headrest 
so  he  could  lie  down  and  read  in  his  tub  is  sorry 
now.  "It  takes  him  an  hour  to  bathe  and  shave," 
she  says,  "and  I'm  going  to  mislay  that  little  horror." 


At  our  last  P.T.A.  supper  we  all  (except  one) 
agreed  on  one  thing:  that  even  if  the  billboards 
were  adorned  with  pictures  by  Rembrandt  or 
Picasso  (and  no  commercials),  we'd  still  dislike 
'em.  (He  works  for  a  billboard  company.) 


For  three  days  in  a  row  I  tried  to  read  the  fam- 
ily aloud  an  article  about  the  great  Teen-ager 
Fallacy,  hut  the  young  ones  scented  a  trap,  ducked 
and  said,  "O.K.,  dad,  we  know;  we're  all  spoiled 
rotten!" 

"Goodness!"  exclaims  Betty  Comfort,  watch- 
ing her  husband  restack  thingumbobs  on  the 
garage  rafters  instead  of  cleaning  out  the  roof 
gutters,  as  he  intended  to.  "If  he  pottered  and 
mooned  at  the 'office  as  he  does  at  home  we'd 
have  to  live  on  roots  and  herbs!" 


Since  my  Dream  Girl  gave  us  that  clock  radio  for 
Christmas  Tve  doted  on  the  idea  of  waking  up  to 
music,  but  more  often  than  not  it's  a  dissertation  on 
how  to  fatten  hogs. 

Our  block  (prettiest  trees  in  town!)  usually 
throws  a  party  on  St.  Patrick's  Day  in  honor  of 
the  Irish.  We're  a  sort  of  UN  block;  some  count 
eleven  diverse  ancestries  around  the  square, 
some  say  seventeen.  But  we  all  flaunt  a  touch  of 
green.  Didn't  the  Irish  conquer  the  world  with 
their  winsomeness? 


As  nearly  as  our  neighbor  in  the  yellow  brick 
house  can  figure,  his  teen-age  daughter  is  in 
love  with  four  boys  at  once.  "And  the  sophisti- 
cated 1953  teen-ager,"  he  confided  as  I  helped 
push  his  car  out  of  a  snowdrift,  "is  just  as 
gullible  and  mushy  as  they  were  in  1933." 


Some  of  our  stancher  toivnsfolk  can  ac^ 
prouder  when  a  son  or  daughter  gets  into  a  mess 
than  other  people  do  when  their  kids  go  Phi  Beta 
Kappa  at  college.  ^ 

Under  direct  orders  from  my  angel,  I  danced 
every  dance  at  the  club's  Valentine  Party  and 
now  I've  had  to  have  my  fifteen-year-old  patent- 
leather  dancing  pumps  half-soled! 


At  our  town's  gay  parties  in  honor  of  couples 
who're  just  leaving  for  Florida  or  coming  back 
from  Europe,  I've  found  one  way  to  get  revenge 
on  'em:  cut  'em  off  short  after  three  words  if 
they  try  to  tell  about  the  trip.  Unless  they 
throw  the  party.  As  they  should. 


When  our  youngest,  unprompted,  adds  a  prayer 
for  our  soldiers  in  Korea  .  .  . 

And  Junior  thrusts  his  logical  rapier  through  a 
hole  in  my  argument  wide  as  a  barn  door  .  .  . 

Or  our  red-haired  daughter  gently  yields  a 
point  without  debate  to  the  young  man  she  ad- 
mires .  .  . 

And  the  lady  permanently  ensconced  at  the 
other  end  of  our  seesaw  adorns  our  mantel  with  a 
modern  figurine  of  a  dancer  I  admired  casually  in 
New  York  months  ago  .  .  . 

I  ask  myself,  "Look,  chum,  who  do  you  think 
you  are,  to  dominate  a  family  like  that,  you  lucky 
stiff"?" 


SHE:    \,„„  „/      /,„„.K  ,  ,,  ,  ,/„/  /,/.,  //„(,  II.  i„„ui,i  III.,-  ,„i, 

iiixil  ,l„u-<  iilnutHl  l,,,„i  1,1,1  1,1  -I  .l„s  I.  »!.■..>         i,,i,iii„„,  il,,„l..  il,, 

HE:     '/U"<°<«  /  1, 1,1,11  ,1  llill  \  1,1-^1  1 1, 1  1(11  ,1,1  I,  iii/t'    \i,I,,hI\  Ik  Itllln  II  I,,  ii,,^h 
III,-  III, ,111,, I   \l  l,\  ^li,,,,l,li,'  I  Jill  li,l,n  I,,         11,        I, I I,,-,  /„,■..»  ,,,,,il,,  t  ' 


THIRD   OF   A  SERIES 

ihi-ir  iir,-  11,11,  HI  ihr  I  luli.l  ,  ii„„,  ili.ii,  I.  ,IK),IHH)  rhililirii  ../ 

v  liDiil  iiffi-  who  lire  thr  /iriHtin  t  of  luimrt  lirokrit  liy  ilminr 
In  vi/nc  n,-i/flilii>rliiMiili  an  niliiul  nuijunlv  nf  till  ihilitrrn  utr  nihrr 
hriiiff  ifiirril  liy  ^Ir/hiiiin-nlt  or  nrr  in  InHtrilinn  ufiiMilt 
Itrromr  tlinr  imrrnti  iliil  not  nuikr  it  uirrriu  of  murnoffr.  So,  li 
rliililrrn  lontrilmtr  far  morr  limn  llinr  iiiiolu  lo  ihr  rnnkt  nf 
jnvrnili'  ilfliniiiifnry  itnil  likrn  ixr  lo  ihr  nnmlu-r  of  unha/i/ty  mnrnoftrt 
in  llir  nrxt  ffrnrnilum,  hniiiiv  hiiiipy  miirnof(rt  Ifnil  tlrtmfth 
lo  "run  in  llii-  foinily."  Inlrre%ls  of  ihr  i  hililrrn  irr  not 
thr  only  imi>orliinl  comuilrrotion  in  ii  ihrrnlrnnl  ilit  orrr,  hut 
ihry  ilrnrrvr  morr  ronsiilrrnlton  thiin  ihry  ofirn  urt.  Thr 
roiinvlor  in  lhi.%  iti.v,  Mrs.  Ilrlly  liullnrtl,  hiiil  lo  Irorh  thr 
rmipir  how  lo  f(rl  nlonn  with  ihrir  own  two  i  hililrrn  on  writ  in  with 
II  itiizrn  othrr  iiyvirlril  rrliilivr\.  I'aI  I.  l'(>l'fM)> 


1 ' 


hr    I',,, I  l'.,|,.„.., 


Jill  tells  her  side 

I  \ (•  ali  cail)  licf^iiii  (livorcc  proceedings," 
pretly,  Iweiily-live-year-old  Jill  said  iierv- 
(lusly  and  apologelically  lo  the  inarriago 
counselor,  "and  I  hope  you  woo  l  try  to  talk 
ine  into  goiiif^  hack  to  liolt.  My  marriagi-  is 
linislied.  Mamma  has  already  paid  the  law- 
yer—  the  same  lawyer  she  got  for  my  sister 
Betsy — so  you  can  see  no  reconriliation  he- 
tween  Hoi)  and  me  is  possihie.  He  and  I  split 
up  for  good  a  year  ago  and  what  I  need  is 
some  com[)etent  outside  advice  on  how  to 
adjust  lo  a  single  life. 

'  I  cry  a  lot,"  said  prospective  divorcee 
Jill,  "and  I  have  trouhle  sleeping.  I  have  aw- 
ful headaches  and  I  can't  keep  food  on  my 
stomach  and  I'm  still  losing  weight.  I  worry 
all  the  lime  about  the  elfect  of  the  divorce  on 
the  baby  and  Bobby,  Jr.  My  mother's  divorce 
didn't  seem  to  harm  me  and  my  two  sisters, 
but  then  none  of  us  can  even  remember  hav- 
ing a  father,"  said  Jill.  "Bobbv,  Jr.,  is  nearly 
live,  and  he  docs  remember  Bob.  When  he 
cries  for  his  daddy  I  get  terrified  about  the 
future.  Will  Bobby  blame  me  later  on?  Will 
he  keep  on  missing  Bob?  The  baby  is  only 
three  and  I  worry  less  about  her.  Betsy's 
liaby  is  the  same  age  and  is  beautifully  ad- 
justed. Mamma  says  constant  quarreling  be- 
tween parents  is  worse  than  a  good  clean 
break.  Don't  you  think  she's  right? 

"My  mother  and  both  my  sisters  have 
been  wonderful  to  me,"  Jill  informed  the 
counselor.  "They  keep  reminding  me  Bob 
and  I  fought  like  cats  and  dogs  almost  from 
our  first  day.  I  can't  begin  to  tell  you  the 
mnnber  of  times  we've  been  separated;  once 
1  iiad  to  leave  him  twice  in  the  same  month. 
.Still  and  all,  Bob  and  I  were  married  six 
years  and  we  have  two  children.  That's  a 
liard  thing  to  forget,  whatever  mamma  says. 
I  just  can't  help  missing  Bob  sometimes.  The 
nice  things,  I  mean — like  the  way  he  acted 
over  the  property  settlement. 

"In  court  this  morning  we  divided  our 
things,  and  Bob  insisted  I  take  both  the  ice- 
box and  the  stove.  He  was  entitled  to  the 
stove.  And  then,"  said  Jill  and  showed  a  ten- 
tative, uncertain  smile,  "Bob  made  his  own 
lawyer  furious  by  standing  up  and  telling  the 


judge  .S,.)  .1  itiiiiilh  w.i-ti  I  ciii)ij;^h  .diliioiiy 
for  a  woman  witli  two  small  children  lo  HUp- 
[)ort.  By  woman,  he  meant  me.  Ho|»  earns 
S2.')()  a  month,  which  isn't  vi-ry  mueli,  but 
he  insisted — he  practically  shnulrcl — wc 
should  be  allowed  half  of  it. 

"Of  course  you  realize,"  Jill  then  said 
firmly  to  the  counselor,  "there's  methof]  in 
my  husband's  mailness.  He's  trying  to  gel 
me  hack  like  after  all  our  other  separations. 
Mamma  .says  to  pay  no  attention  to  Bob's 
sweetness -rK)w,  that  lie  s  just  being  tricky 
ami  underhaml  the  way  men  are.  Actually, 
Bob  hasn't  chaiigecl  one  particle.  His  voice 
and  his  manners  have  g^wg^s  driven  me 
crazy.  I  used  to  nearly  die  f>f  humiliation," 
remembered  Jill,  "when  Bf)b  and  I  would  go 
out  someplace  and  he'd  yell  at  the  waiter  we 
were  starving  and  needed  instant  service. 
Then  if  I  tried  to  hush  him,  he'd  get  mad 
and  start  in  yelling  at  me.  Right  after  we 
eloped.  Bob  gave  a  birthday  dinner  for 
mamma  and  made  so  much  noise  in  the  res- 
taurant she  went  home  without  touching  a 
bite  and  made  the  others  go  home  with  her. 
She  hasn't  stopped  talking  about  that  eve- 
ning yet. 

"Mamma  calls  Bob  the  Banty  Rooster, 
strutting  and  crowing  to  make  himself  seem 
important  when  he  isn't.  Bob  is  two  inches 
shorter  than  me,"  said  Jill  in  flurried  expla- 
nation of  the  unkind  nickname,  "and  the 
two  of  us  look  simply  ridiculous  together. 
Mamma  and  both  my  sisters  told  me  so  long 
before  we  were  married,  but  I  wouldn't  lis- 
ten. .Afterwards  I  certainly  regretted  it.  Peo- 
ple used  to  stare  at  Bob  and  me — even  when 
he  wasn't  shouting  and  showing  off — until  I 
could  sink  through  the  floor.  How  can  a  wife 
be  proud  of  a  husband  shorter  than  she  is? 
Bob  makes  me  feel  like  a  telephone  polel 

"It's  far  too  late  in  the  day,"  said  Jill  as 
emphatically  as  though  the  attentive  but  si- 
lent counselor  were  arguing  the  point,  "for 
Bob  to  change  his  spots  and  start  being  nice. 
Both  my  sisters  say  it's  unfair  and  downright 
mean  of  my  husband  to  be  sending  me  flow- 
ers now.  I  can  see  straight  through  Bob!  He's 
determined  to  win  out  over  mamma,  no  mat- 
ter if  the  arguing  and  fighting  and  wTangling 

pull  me  to  pieces.  fCovHnu,-,!  on  Page  187) 


SPRING 


BEIGE 

is  such  a  fashion  that  it  signifies 

spring  '53.  Tweed  ensemble,  twill  suit, 

bolero  costume — each  looks 

most  right  in  beige,  most  springlike 

with  a  small  white  linen  collar. 

Beige  is  the  basis  for  any  wa  rdrobe  and  for 

resourceful  changes.  Other  colors 

with  a  fresh  outlook  are  cornflower  blue, 

apricot  pink,  mauve  violet  and  sharp  yellou 

ENSEMBEES 

are  neivest  in  three-piece  costumes — 

a  coat  and  skirt  with  a  blouse  that  matches 

the  coat  lining,  or  a  jacket,  skirt  and 

jumper  of  the  same  soft  tweed  or  wool. 

Attention  on  hemlines — an  inch 

or  so  longer  is  the  trend.  Designers  say 

13  inches  from  the  floor  for  the 

average  heigh  t,  but  the  right  length  for 

you  is  the  right  length  for  fashion. 

PRETTIEST 

tiveeds  in  history  are  in  chiflfon  iveights, 
lacy  weaves — elegant,  feminine,  city -bred. 
They  come  in  dress-and-coat  ensembles, 
or  suits  with  shapely  jackets. 
Hardier-mannered  and  distinguished, 
Donegal-flecked  or  herringbone  tweeds  will 
have  a  long  season  in  buttoned-up 
bolero  suits  and  straight  box  jackets. 


BY  WII^IIIOI^.V  CUSHALVN 

Fashion  Etlitor  of  the  Journal 


Flecked  tweed  suit  with  a  snug  jacket, 
capelet  collar  and  pique  neckline,  by 
Ben  Zuckerman;  a  milan  Breton  hat  by 
Irene,  calfskin  bag  and  pumps.  Little 
girl's  coat  is  a  tweed  fashion,  linen  collar. 


f».i 


Violrl-aiiil-w liitc  |iriiit<-i]  aitmioon  tatfcta  wjlli  Im.w- 
Itodicr,  l»y  Ilaltie  Carnegie.  The  calot  is  white  lacy  straw. 


Sharp  \ellow  basket-weave  twcti]  in  a  straight  jacket 
suit,  bv  Ben  Zuckernian.  Calfskin  bag  by  Richard  Koret. 


Silk  coat,  late  spring  and  summer  fashion  in  plaiu 
sliantung-tafTeta.  straw  hat,  by  Christian  Dior-New  \  ork. 


64 


A  LOT  OF  FASHION 


surah  jacket-dress  with  with  jersey  jacket,  $39.95, 

velvet  collar,  by  Jerry  Gilden,  $17.95.  Pique  hat,  EUzabeth  by  Leonard  Arkin.  Straw  calot,  $8.00;  cotton  carnations, 

Marks,  $6.95.  Patent  bag,  $7.98;  gloves,  $2.00;  pearls,  $1.00.  $1.00;  faiUe  bag,  $7.95;  nylon  gloves,  $2.00;  earrings,  $1.00. 


fo 


r  II 


(! 


U>  KIjIH  MAICi  I'ACKAKI) 


Navy  silk-shantung  suit 
f  71.85     C  O  IVI  P  L  E  T  E  basket-weave  coUar 

and  pockets,  by  Ben  Barrack,  $59.95.  Touch  with  white- 
pique  hat,  $6.95;  nylon  gloves,  $2.00;  pearl  earrings,  $2.95. 


S^H.fl.**  COMPLETE 

ISi  i;ji  aii'l;ili'-l\Nill  -nil.  Inn  ii  idll.ir 
.nul   .  iill-.  (Ml:  li.it    l.s    Mr.  \ll 

•■^d.OU:  kid-kin  |)inn|>-.  "I  I.\  lli  n 

Sonnn.  r-:  Ii.il'.  ".'..IMI:  (.-Iom  -.  *:',.(MI. 


)$r»0.int  COMPLETE 


^|»ri  M  i:  «-ii-<-iM  hie  —  p;ir«  lmn  M  I  - 
r:i\ Dii-shaiil  line  <lr*'ss  with  siruiffht 
jacket,  $39.95.  hy  L«  <)iuir<l  \ikin.   IN  ari-and-^ioM  <  ;irriii(rt,.  *2.95;  pal«- 
Ix'igc   Icalhi-r   hut^.    S|.9}{;   (rc^li   <  arnal  ion^.   < ol  H»n   j;Io\«'m.  *.'i.<MI. 


Easter  Wardrobe 

Youn^  as 


Young  but  not  too  young,  sophisticated 
but  not  too  much  so,  these  clothes  are 
seventh  heaven  for  the  teens.  They  bor- 
row the  best  of  spring  fashion— the  silk 
ensemble,  the  jacket  dress,  the  fresh  look 
of  beige  and  white.  The  gadgety  habit  is 
left  behind.  A  single  pin,  one  bracelet  at 
a  time,  or  a  simple  pearl  choker  is  the 
jewelry  allowance.  •  By  Ruth  Mary  Packard 


Gu-to-to\Mi  gray  cotton  dress  with  a  waist-length  jacket,  both  with  white  linen 
collars,  about  $29.95,  designed  by  Jenny  Bell.  Felt  cloche  by  Elizabeth  Marks. 


Sunday-best  faille  coat  (cotton,  rayon  and  acetate)  makes  a 
costume  with  dress  at  the  right,  $29.95,  by  Maxine  Bentley. 


Star-print  acetate  dress  (part  of  ensemble), 
with  Mr.   Alf's  cradle  straw-cloth  bonnet. 


Holiday  separates — silk  shantung 
piped  with  linen  by  Jenny  Bell. 


67 


Spring... 


ill, 


Sul)-<li  l)  al  lioiiic  ill  (  ((lion  slraw  skirl  l»y  (/tela  I'lallry, 
WDol-aiid -aii^'ora   hWcahT,    with   (■(ii<liir<»v  slijipcrs. 


l.l<f>MllMI'Nf>  •  IMtltl 


Short  poppy-red  wool  coat  goes  with  all  the  beiges,  grays  and  navy  blues  of 
the  wardrobe,  $30.00,  by  Alvin  Handmacher.  The  Breton  is  natural  straw. 

The  bib  dress  in  a  beige  rayon  and  Acrilan  with  white  pique,  and  a  leather 
belt,  by  Madeleine  Fauth.  Gold-and-pearl  circle  pin,  by  Charles  Ciner. 


•  .*  •  •  •  • 


■  •  ^  '.,•.,•..*•'...•• 
.  .'..'.'•« .*••  ♦.• 

■  •.  .  V '.■  ' ..  ,; 
."■  ••••  rf«  .*•••••...*•• 

Polka  dots  return  each  spring  looking  fresher  than  ever 
We  used  a  reverse  color  combination  for  collar,  cuffs, 
gloves  .  .  .  the  fabric,  rayon  French  crepe:  the  cost.  $2.68, 


By  NOR\  O'LEARY 


Pattern  Editor  of  the  Journal 


Navy-blue  tissue  faille  is  a  year-round  classic.  For  spring,  white 
pique  collar,  white  pearl  buttons,  always  a  touch  of  red.  The  pique  hat, 
designed  h\  .Mr.  John,  is  easy  to  make,  pretty  to  wear.  Design  No.  "908. 


AH  dremse*  are  made  tram  Vo^ne  Ue»ian  .Vw.  7ttH7,  12  In  20,  73r. 


JOHN  ENC'-I  I  \|. 


69 


I  ••</»>•  l»fmitim  77:iH 


Miiifh  Iff  lh4'Mi»  prfllff  pitfui* 
h»nn*'tM  i'un  hv  madf 
for  IvMH  than  S'J.OO 


For  yardage  adjustments  on  these  various  versions,  back  views,  turn  to  Page  132.  Buy  Vogue  Patterns  at  the  store  which  sells  them 
in  your  city.  Or  order  by  mail,  enclosing  check  or  money  order,*  from  Vogue  Pattern  Service,  Putnam  .4ve..  Greenwich,  Conn.;  or 
in  Canada  fron    |*H  Spadina  Ave.,  Toronto,  Ont.  Some  prices  slightly  higher  in  Canada.  (  *Conn.  residents  please  add  sales  tax.) 


11/1" ARCH  i>  here,  and  »>vory  year  when 
1T±  this  iinpnpular.  boastful,  lilustory 
month  shows  up.  uegpt  ready.  Roadv  for 
whaty  How  rau  \ou  ask?  Ready  for  gar- 
dening, of  course,  if  vou're  luekv  enough 


garden.   For  gardens  spell 


to  have 

country  places  and  good  living  and  peace- 
ful days  and  quiet  nights.  These  are 
pretty  desirable  things.  Things  mellow 
with  age  and  ripe  with  tradition  and  full 
of  tall  tales  and  wondrous  miracles. 

SOMETIMES  BIRTHDAYS.  LotS  of  people 

get  born  in  this  in-between  month.  In  be- 
tween winter  and  spring  and  the  fishing 
season.  You  know  most  folks  think  of 
the  fishing  season— opens  mostly  May 
first— as  just  part  of  spring,  but  not  me. 
In  my  mind  it's  set  apart  and  is  a  season 
by  itself.  I  guess  there  are  a  few  of  us 
left  who  feel  the  same  way.  That  is  my 
hope,  for  it's  a  beautiful  and  desirable 
time.  And  you  can't  say  the  same  about 
March.  Like  the  famous  '  mud  time"  up 


in  Vermont,  that  pesky  interlude  is 
something  to  stand  and  get  over  with. 

IT'S  MINE  TOO.  No  One  can  be  blamed 
for  being  born  in  March.  It  is  a  circum- 
stance over  which  no  one  has  any  say-so. 
I  know,  for  my  birthday  is  in  March.  I 
hate  wind.  I  detest  bloodstones— the 
birthstone  accredited  to  the  month— 
and  why  couldn't  it  have  been  diamond 
or  even  ruby?  Well,  you  tell  me. 

AS  TO  THE   BIRTHDAY  THEME.  Well, 

birthdays  do  occur  in  March,  and  birthday 
parties  can  be  as  gay,  as  traditional,  as 
whimsical  and  novel  as  you  can  think  up. 
And  don't  tell  me  that  children  are  the 
only  ones  who  have  fun  at  these  parties. 
The  spirit  of  fun  is  immortal  and  bop  and 
jazz  are  here  to  stay,  I  hope.  (I  also  like 
Mozart  &  Co.) 

SUPPER'S  THE  THING.  If  you  have  gazed 
and  will  gaze  some  more  at  the  picture 
on  the  page,  you'll  observe  that  I  have 

taken  you  all  (Conlinneil  on  Page  173) 


By  ANN  BATCHELDER 


1  You  know  something?  Well, 
it's  that  Vermont  is  the  painters' 
paradise.  North  and  south,  east 
to  west,  no  matter  where  you 
look  there  is  that  that  is  a  paint- 
er's dream.  Consider  the  Green 
Mountains,  or  look  westward  to 
the  noble  Adirondacks  and  Lake 
Champlain.  South,  Equinox 
rises  to  give  rest  to  the  little 
city  of  Manchester,  and  over 
the  place  where  I  was  born, 
Windsor,  broods  Ascutney,  which 
no  artist  can  pass  by  with- 
out palette  and  brush.  We  have 
them  here,  the  subjects  and  the 
artists.  And  room  for  all. 


The  Old  Meeting  House,  at  Lancaster,  Massachusetts,  designed' 
by  Charles  Bulfinch,  famous  early  American  architect,  in  1810. 


*  J!tne  a  ^ay  * 


2  Now  it's  March,  a  little  windy 
as  usual,  but  it  acts  like  spring. 
So  we've  come  to  looking  into 

victuals  suitable  to  the  season.  Might  start  with  a  des- 
sert that's  no  trouble  at  all,  and  go  on  from  there. 

3  Make  a  batch  of  applesauce  (or  buy  a  can)  and 
puree  it  or  not.  Chill  it  well.  Add  a  little  grated  coco- 
nut, half  a  small  bottle  of  maraschino  cherries,  drained 
and  cut  into  pieces,  some  chopped  walnuts,  a  few 
chopped  dates.  Serve  in  glasses  with  a  ball  of  lemon  or 
orange  sherbet. 

4  Griddlecakes  af6  as  versatile  as  they  come.  To  2 
cups  pancake  mix  add  2  cups  milk.  Beat  thoroughly. 
Add  2  pimientos,  chopped,  and  2  tablespoons  chopped 
onion.  Bake  as  you  do  griddlecakes,  on  a  griddle.  Serve 
with  a  cheese  sauce.  For  lunch. 

5  If  you  are  interested  in  mixing  a  perfect  sauce — and 
what  cook  isn't? — there  is  one  rule  you  must  have  a 
mind  to.  That  is  to  match  your  palate  against  your 
product.  That  means  taste.  Taste  as  you  go  along. 

6  A  meat  pie  is  a  wonderful  treat  when  great  pains 
are  taken  to  make  it.  Take  time  and  patience  and  a 
will  to  perfection  as  to  a  spring  bonnet,  and  you  will 
be  amply  repaid.  And  have  it  hot.  Hot. 

7  The  same  goes  for  a  supper  after  a  skating  party. 
This  is  the  way  of  fixing  things  up.  A  two-chapter 
recipe,  old,  but  good.  Chapter  I.  Season  1  pound  ground 
beef  with  salt,  pepper,  a  little  marjoram.  Add  1  onion, 
chopped.  Boil  1  package  noodles,  drain.  Keep  hot. 

ft  Chapter  II.  Brown  the  meat  lightly  in  2  tablespoons 
bacon  fat,  add  2  cans  tomato  soup.  Cook  a  few  min- 
utes. Arrange  the  hot  noodles  on  a  platter  and  turn  the 
meat  over  them.  Serve  with  a  green  vegetable  and 
they'll  lick  the  platter  clean. 

9  Peel  2  or  3  large  oranges  and  slice  crosswise.  Arrange 
them  in  your  nicest  glass  serving  bowl.  Thin  cup 
marmalade  with  }4  cup  pineapple  or  grapefruit  juice 
and  pour  over  the  oranges.  Chill.  Sprinkle  with 
shredded  coconut.  Delicious  dessert. 

10  As  the  snow  is  to  the  snowball,  so  are  green  peas 
to  the  bacon.  Fry  some  thin-cut  bacon,  break  it  up 
into  little  scraplets.  Add  to  cooked  peas.  Add  an  onion, 
chopped  and  sauteed.  Season.  Add  3^  cup  cream.  Serve 
this  as  hot  as  heat  can  make  it. 

11  Lady  reader  writes  with  a  beseeching  note,  "Can't 
we  have  a  receipt  for  an  uncooked  coffee  frosting? 
Please?"  It  was  that  "please"  that  broke  me  down. 
So  here  it  is,  and  I  hope,  I  hope,  she  and  you  all  like  it. 


12  Coffee-Scotch  Frosting:  Cream  to  the  creamiest 
stage  li  cup  butter  or  margarine  with  '  i  cup  brown 
sugar.  Add  2  teaspoons  vanilla.  Now  add  alternately 
3  cups  confectioners'  sugar  and  H  cup  very  strong 
coffee.  Beat  like  crazy  all  the  while.  It  must  and  will 
be  smooth.  Frost. 

13  Baked  beans  often  act  as  if  simply  to  appear  was 
the  best  they  could  do.  Like  some  folks,  they  don't 
know  their  own  talents.  Show  them  this  one: 

14  Mix  }4  cup  molasses,  1  tablespoon  prepared  mus- 
tard, 1  tablespoon  vinegar  and  1  small  can  deviled 
ham.  Stir  this  mixture  into  1  can  baked  beans.  In  a 
casserole  put  alternate  layers  of  beans,  very  thin 
slices  of  onion  and  good  lusty  slices  of  skinned  toma- 
toes. Bake  at  350°  F.  for  45  minutes. 

15  If  salads  are  on  your  mind  we  might  examine  a 
jellied  salad  that  fits  into  the  March  setup  as  neatly 
as  an  apple  in  a  boy's  pocket.  Soften  2  envelopes  unffa- 
vored  gelatin  in  f  i  cup  orange  juice.  Heat  1  cup  orange 
juice,  add  }i  cup  sugar  and  the  softened  gelatin.  Stir 
until  gelatin  and  sugar  are  completely  dissolved. 

I(»  Cont'd:  Add  the  orange-juice-gelatin  mixture  to  2 
more  cups  orange  juice  and  the  juice  of  1  lemon. 
Strain.  Set  the  bowl  in  cracked  ice  and  stir  the  jelly 
occasionally.  Pour  a  layer  of  jelly  in  a  mold.  When 
almost  set,  arrange  on  it  orange  sections,  cherries, 
sliced  bananas,  sliced  pineapple,  and  so  on.  Cover  with 
more  jelly,  let  partly  set,  add  more  fruit  and  walnut 
halves  and  have  the  jelly  come  out  on  top.  Chill.  Un- 
mold  on  lettuce.  Pass  the  mayonnaise.  Cheerio. 

17  Something  good  to  do  with  veal  chops.  Brown  4  rib 
or  shoulder  veal  chops  in  hot  salad  oil  or  shortening  with 
1  clove  garlic,  split.  Drain  off  excess  fat  and  remove 
garlic.  Season  chops  with  %  teaspoon  salt  and  a  dash 
of  pepper.  Add  1  can  tomato  sauce,  }A  cup  water  and 
yi  teaspoon  oregano.  Cover  and  simmer  until  chops 
are  tender — 45  to  60  minutes. 

lit  This  is  for'the  canasta  crowd,  and  you  start  with 
canned-peach  halves.  Brush  each  half  with  lemon 
juice.  Set  on  a  lettuce  leaf.  Fill  centers  with  Waldorf 
salad — you  know,  apple,  celery,  walnuts,  mayonnaise. 

19  Answer  to  query:  "My  dear  Fanny:  I  recognized 
your  handwriting.  Have  got  over  being  surprised  at 
your  questions.  Patience  is  my  middle  name.  No, 
Fanny,  scampi  has  nothing  to  do  with  scamp  or 
scamper.  It  is  a  creation  made  from  shrimp,  garlic 
butter,  flour  and  egg  yolk.  Finally  it  is  fried.  I  hope 


your  paper  for  the  reading  club 
comes  off  with  a  bang.  But  re- 
member, scampi  is  not  plural  for 
scamp,  in  France  or  any  other 
place." 

20  Of  the  making  of  sauces  there 
is  no  end.  I  will  set  down  here  a 
receipt  for  Sauce  Remoulade,  good 
for  fish  for  one  thing,  and  many 
other  "made"  dishes  of  more  or 
less  renown. 

21  Sauce  Remoulade:  Mix  1  cup 
mayonnaise  and  1  teaspoon 
chopped  tarragon.  Add  1  clove 
garlic,  crushed,  1  teaspoon  dry 
mustard,  1  teaspoon  capers,  1 
tablespoon  chopped  parsley,  and 
2  small  pickles,  chopped  fine.  This 
is  one  of  the  great  sauces. 

22  Would  you  sit  them  down  to  an  omelet  supper, 
those  who  went  a-willowing  this  gusty  starlit  night? 
Whew!  What's  to  eat?  Omelets  with  flaked  cooked 
white  fish,  leftover,  and  hot  anchovy  toast  and  coffee 
and  cherry  pie.  Would  you? 

23  Surprises  may  be  nice,  maybe  not.  Here's  a  nice 
one,  so  take  it  to  yourself.  Chill  a  can  of  julierme 
beets.  And  have  some  sour  cream  handy. 

24  Now  mix  the  juice  of  a  lemon  and  the  grated  rind 
of  half  a  one.  Add  1  tablespoon  brown  sugar,  1  table- 
spoon salad  oil,  and  salt  and  pepper  to  taste.  Add 
beets,  chill  3^  hour.  Serve  in  lettuce  cups  with  sour 
cream  beaten  and  lightly  salted. 

25  Roast  duckling  is  on  many  a  spring  menu,  giving 
the  chickens  a  chance  to  reach  adolescence,  at  least. 
To  help  you  enjoy  your  duck,  here's  a  new  stuffing: 

26  Take  1  cup  cooked  rice.  Cook  32  cup  chopped 
onion  in  2  tablespoons  butter,  margarine  or  bacon  fat. 
Don't  brown  the  onion.  Add  34  teaspoon  salt,  34  tea- 
spoon celery  salt,  and  1  cup  dried  apricots  cut  into  thin 
strips.  Mix  all  with  the  cooked  rice.  Stuff  the  birdlet. 
Good?  Betcha. 

27  Of  course  you  know  there's  a  "spice  of  the 
month."  Well,  mustard  belongs  to  March.  Add  a  pinch 
to  a  cheese  sauce  for  macaroni. 

ti^  And  listen  to  this,  mesdames:  Crushed  peanut 
brittle  and  a  cooky  mix  are  brought  together  to  join 
the  cooky  clan. 

2!>  These  are  sweeties  that  need  no  cooking :  Melt  14 
pound  sweet  chocolate  over  boiling  water.  Remove  from 
heat.  Add  %  cup  sweetened  condensed  milk  and  1  cup 
raisins.  Mix  well.  Drop  by  teaspoons  on  a  greased 
baking  sheet.  Chill  several  hours  before  serving. 

30  Place  a  1  "-thick  slice  of  ham  in  a  baking  dish; 
pour  over  it  1  cup  apple  juice  or  cider.  Bake  1  hour 
at  375°  F.,  basting  occasionally.  Add  more  liquid  if 
needed.  A  good  way  with  ham. 

31  The  bulbs  that  were  hidden  away  in  the  fall  are  ready 

to  work  for  their  keep. 
They  have  listened  to  seeds  getting  ready  to  burst,  after 

the  long  winter  sleep. 
And  soon  in  the  dogivood  a-robin  ivill  sing 
And  call  to  his  neighbor,  "  Wake  up,  it  is  spring!" 

Yours  as  usual, 
Annie 


I    *  Cdy  Ann  !3atcheLder  *  > 


1.    A     I)     I  1 


II     It     M  K 


J  't 


The  Duchess  of  Rutland 

]f  hen  at  Bch  oir  Castle,  she  spends  much  time  out-of-doors.  Yet  her  skin  has  a 
})cl(d's  silliY-snioothnrss.  "Pond's  Cold  Cream  is  perfection  for  cleansing.  It 
leaves  my  skin  Jeeling  so  fresh,''  the  Duchess  says. 


•••tm 


The  Maki  II 1  onlss  of  Milford  Haven 

Lady  Milford  Haven  has  a  glamorous  beauty  that  sets  her  apart  uherever  site 
is.  She  is  devoted  to  Pond's.  "It  leaves  my  skin  feeling  so  soft  and  smooth.  I 
couldn't  do  without  Pond's  Cold  Cream,"  she  says. 


// 


cream 


socceli/  women 


See  a  fascinating,  immediate 
change  come  over  your  face 

As  your  skin  takes  up  the  refreshening  oil  and  moisture  in  Pond's 
Cold  Cream— oil  which  just  suits  your  skin— oil  which  is  not  too 
heavy  and  not  too  thin— you  can  feel  the  tired  little  tensions  ease 
away.  You  can  see  a  clearer  color  coming  into  your  skin.  You  can 
see  your  skin  take  on  a  wonderful  smoothness. 

Each  night  be  sure  to  give  your  skin  this  special  oil-and-moisture 
treatment  with  Pond's  Cold  Cream  — to  cleanse  it  rightly,  deeply 
— to  replenish  it: 

So/f-c/eansc- swirl  satin-smooth  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all  over  your  face  and 

throat— generously.  Swirl  up  from  throat  to  forehead.  Tissue  off  well. 
Soft-rinse  quickly  with  more  skin-helping  Pond's  Cold  Cream.  Tissue  off 

lightly.  Look  at  your  face. 
This  double  Pond's  Cold  Creaming  replaces  smoothing  oil  and  mois- 
ture as  it  cleans  your  skin  immaculately.  At  the  same  time,  it 
quickens  circulation,  livens  your  skin. 

(Note:  Thousands  of  women  find  that  in  the  morning  another. quick  Pond's  Creaming 
starts  their  day  with  a  delightful  new  freshness.) 


Look  your  loveliest— and 
you  gain  a  charming  new  confidence 
that  draws  others  to  you  at  sight 

You  will  see  your  skin  responding  to  this  skin-helping  cream — 
immediately — after  your  very  first  Pond's  treatment. 

Use  Pond's  Cold  Cream  ererj  night  (remember,  the  constant 
robbing  of  your  skin's  freshness  and  smoothness  goes  on  every 
day).  As  you  use  Pond's,  you  will  delight  in  your  lovelier  skin — 
and  you  will  gain  an  attractive  new  self-confidence. 

So  many  women  are  discovering  the  amazing  effect  of  the  inter- 
action of  Pond's  Cold  Cream  on  their  skin,  that  more  women  use 
Pond's  than  any  other  face  cream  at  any  price. 

You  owe  it  to  yourself  to  bring  out  the  beauty  of  your  face.  Make 
sure  you  always  look  your  loveliest. 

Today — go  to  your  favorite  face  cream  counter  and  get  a  large 
jar  of  Pond's  Cold  Cream.  Start  using  it  this  very  night.  See  the 
wonder  of  this  skin-helping  cream  on  your  face. 


76 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


March,  19 


ANOTHER    IN    THE    SERIES   OF    FAMOUS   Mi L L I  K E N    MAGIC  FABRICS 


Like  all-wool? 

LORfm 


*  OuPont's  acrylic  fiber 

Look  for  the  hang-tag  to 
be  sure  It's  LORETTE 


It's  the  unduplicated 
LORETTE,  the  Orion-wool  with 
all-wool's  fine  qualities  amplified,  plus 
astonishing  talents  of  its  own!  The 
Milliken-only  technique  creates  a 
fabric  that  washes  perfectly,  coming 
out  even  lovelier  each  time  .  .  .  keeps 
pleats  and  shape  .  .  .  rarely  needs 
pressing  even  after  washing.  See 
easy-upkeep  fashions  of  LORETTE  in 
sportswear,  separates,  dresses,  suits, 
robes  and  children's  clothes  .  .  . 
especially  in  spring-weight 
Coronation  White  and  Practical  Pastels 
.  .  .  now  at  better  stores. 


55%  ORLON*— 45%  Wool 

man 


luinen 


DEEPING,  MILLIKEN  &  CO.,  INC.,  1407  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK  18,  N.  Y. 


TAW  JAMESON 

(Continued  from  Page  56) 

to  watch  the  making  of  an  American  duchess, 
or  countess,  or  whatever  it's  to  be—but  my 
blood's  not  cold  enough  to  let  me  enjoy  it." 
There  weren't  many  like  Mrs.  Rains,  though. 

I  never  heard  Mrs.  Mebane  quoted  in  all 
the  talk.  I  rarely  saw  her  that  year.  With  Mr. 
Heyward  traveling  so  much  and  Peter  away 
the  Mebanes  stopped  coming  to  our  house. 
Peter  had  gone  to  Woodberry  Forest  School 
up  in  Virginia  and  then  on  the  camping  trip 
with  his  roommate's  people  out  west. 

In  September  in  1924  there  was  no  gentle 
ebbing  out  of  summer.  It  was  just  killed  off. 
One  day  the  sky  turned  glassy  and  the  heat 
came  lumbering  up  the  southeast  plain  and 
laid  down  on  the  county.  The  heat  stayed  till 
the  day  of  the  storm,  and  when  it  was  at  last 
torn  off  of  us,  and  washed  and  thundered 
away,  summer  was  dead. 

By  t'-.is  time  our  house  was  already  dark- 
ened with  the  hulk  of  Chloe's  packed  trunks, 
all  labeled  for  Miss  Tansil's  School.  New 
York.  When  the  sky  lowered  that  afternoon 
I  began  to  listen  for  Mrs.  Heyward's  bell. 
Though  she  was  working  on  her  Southern 
Sonata  she  might  have  started,  any  minute, 
to  ask  where  Chloe  was.  But  the  rain  began 
and  Chloe  didn't  show  up  and  still  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward didn't  ring.  In  wonder  I  went  to  the 
door  of  the  music  room.  Mrs.  Heyward  was 
there  on  the  bench  near  the  piano,  fallen 
asleep  across  her  writing  table.  I  closed  the 
windows  and  took  out  the  pitcher  of  rum  and 
iced  tea  to  freshen  it. 

The  kitchen  was  deserted  when  I  went 
back.  Cook  and  the  maids  had  already  fled 
the  lightning  up  to  their  feather  beds.  The 
door  burst  open  and  Chloe  came  blowing 
through  it  and  the  music-room  bell  rang  on 
the  same  instant.  I  remembered  the  rum  and 
tea  and  made  quick  to  lay  out  fresh  paper  in 
front  of  Mrs.  Heyward  and  for  once  she 
didn't  seem  to  mind  hearing  that  Chloe  was 
in  the  kitchen.  She  just  took  a  deep  drink  and 
wiped  her  forehead  and  set  back  to  work  as  if 
no  lightning  came  down  on  exploding  thunder 
and  the  windows  were  not  fit  to  splinter 
with  the  smash  of  rain. 

"Everything  was  just  right!"  Chloe  said. 
She  took  off  her  wet  cape  and  that  faint 
wild-honey  smell  of  a  perfectly  clean,  per- 
fectly fed  girl  child  came  on  the  kitchen  air. 
"The  shoes  pinched  just  enough,"  she  said. 
"Nasty  can  walk  in  them,  but  even  sitting 
down  she'll  feel  terribly  elegant !  How  much 
do  I  owe  you?  "  Chloe  looked  so  anxious  I  al- 
most said  something  around  seven  dollars, 
which  I  knew  was  all  she  had  after  long  sav- 
ing. But  Nasty's  things  had  come  to  twelve- 
fifty. 

So— "You  can  pay  me  at  Christmas,"  I 
said.  "I've  gone  and  gotten  rich."  I  did  feel 
rich.  I  owTied  quite  a  few  books  by  then.  And 
I'd  started  saving  for  a  Ford.  Because  Ola- 
Mae  never  got  enough  auto-riding.  Ola-Mae 
and  I  were  both  able  to  help  about  the  fare- 
well presents  for  Nasty.  The  RoUinses  were 
taking  her  off  again;  and  it  seemed  that  for 
Nasty  to  be  happy  in  Atlanta  she  must  travel 
there  in  a  hat  made  of  feathers  and  red  as  a 
cock's  comb,  as  well  as  in  new  white  cotton 
gloves  and  a  pair  of  gentleman's  patent- 
leather  evening  shoes.  Mrs.  Heyward  always 
said  it  would  be  vulgar  for  Chloe  to  "throw 
money  around."  and  there  was  no  use  in 
Chloe's  explaining  she  wanted  anything  for 
Nasty.  That  was  how  I  came  to  be  Chloe's 
banker  for  a  while  and  Ola-Mae,  who  now 
had  a  job  at  Belk's.  got  the  things  wholesale. 

The  kitchen  walls  seemed  to  leap  forward, 
glittering,  and  greenish-white.  Inside  a  pul- 
verizing roar  was  a  splitting  sound.  I 
pushed  Chloe  flat  onto  the  floor.  While  the 
sycamore  went  down  outside  and  the  electric 
smell  seeped  in  she  stared  up  round-eyed. 

"Hey,"  she  said,  "hey — I'm  scared."  I 
helped  her  up.  I  explained  I  must  have 
meant— knocking  her  down  that  way— to 
save  her  from  the  lightning.  "Why  Taw, 
that's  all  right!"  she  said.  "You  know  what 
Nasty  told  me?  To  mind  you.  She  said,  'Now 
I  gots  to  leave  my  baby.  I  reg'n  now  she 
have  to  depen'  on  that  smart  fool.' " 


They'll  win  your  heart  . 
these  smart,  beautiful 
Foot  Rest  Shoes  .  .  . 

With  an  exciting  array 
of  new  Spring  styles  .  .  . 
with  a  cushioned- 
comfort  fit  in  every  pair 
.  .  .  you'll  find  them 
shoes  to  work  in,  play 
in,  live  in! 

a  «ery  few  higher 


FOOT  REST  J 

 SHOES 


Wr/>e  for  nome  of  neoresf  deafer 
THE  KRIPPENDORF-DITTMANN  CO. 
CINCINNATI  2,  OHIO 


How'd  you  know  who  she  meant  ?"  I  said. 
Why-  liow  did  I?"  Chloc  looked  siir- 
■d.  "Well  anyway    I  knew  ihal  meant 
I"  We  were  launhinji  when  Mrs.  lley- 
1  came  to  look  out  at  the  sycamore, 
roimd  six  o'clock  Ihey  phoned  Ironi  ihe 
,  They  said  Mr.  lleyward  had  been  lakt  ii 
and  two  men  were  already  nishinn  home 
1  liim.  I  not  his  lied  hxed  and  then  vveni 
•n  to  wail  with  L  hloe  and  her  mother  on 
li^'iited  porch.  Finally  the  men  came  with 
lleyward.  They  carried  him  hom  the 
but  on  the  porcii  they  tried  to  iiold  him 
iv}\\..  While  he  sanded  down  there  be- 
en them  he  opened  his  eyes.  And  when 
eyes  found  Chloe,  and  settled  on  lier,  it 
lied  as  il'  he  had  reached  out  his  hands  or 
ken  someone  word  thai  held  the  drift  and 
stance  of  his  lii'e  in  il. 
,1rs.  1  ley  ward  raised  a  real  row  over  hav- 
tii  wait  with  the  rest  of  us  while  Doctor 
i)ane  made  the  examination.  She  and  her 
.iiand  had  k)nn  since  come  to  acting,  at 
ir  dinners  alone,  as  if  the  dininn  nxim 
e  hill  of  company.  But  now  she  insisted 
should  stay  by  him.  Iler  an^er  was  still 
in  as  breath  on  frosty  air  when  the  doctor 
le  out  and  told  us  Mr.  lleyward  would 
■  to  have  me.  instead  of  a  nurse,  to  look 
)x  him.  Mrs.  lleyward  didn't  object.  In 
she  paid  no  attention  to  this.  She  just 
an  her  fuss  about  Chloe's  going  in  to  Mr. 
,'ward. 

No,  Donald  not  until  he's  better,"  Mrs. 
Avard  said.  "  I  tell  you  I  understand  my 
1  cliild!  You  don't  know.  I  had  to  keep 
from  ivallowinn  all  around  Aunt  Lou ! 
oc  knows  this." 

Stop  yelling,  Kitty,"  the  doctor  said,  and 
oe  vanished,  .going  to  her  father, 
piioned  tiie  drugstore. 
Doctor   Mebane  di- 
ed, and  when  I  came 
k  Chloe  was  standing 
le  in  the  hall. 
What's  this?"  I  asked, 
hat  are  you  doing  out 
;?" 

ler  silk-thread  hair 

g  absolutely  still  on 

er  side  of  her  face. 

illy  she  said,  "He's  not  supposed  to  talk." 

But  he  could  look  at  you,"  I  said. 

He  looked  all  around,"  Chloe  said,  "for 

mmy.  Then  he  told  me  to  go  and  get  her." 

he  clock  struck  before  I  said,  "He  must 

e  heard  her — when  we  had  to  wait  out- 

hloe  looked  at  me.  "He  said  if  she  w'anted 
le  by  him  then  she  belonged  there,"  she 
me. 

Like  you,"  1  said.  "Go  back.  Goon." 
She  covered  his  eyes  with  her  hands," 
36  said.  "He  went  to  sleep." 
turned  round  and  there  was  Peter,  com- 
up  the  stairs  as  if  he'd  been  away  no  more 
1  an  hour.  He  had  grown  three  inches, 
eyes  seemed  a  paler  brown,  near  gold- 
red,  because  of  his  dark  sunburn.  He 
'ned  down  at  his  hand  released  from 
)e's  well-mannered  clasp.  "Now  what?" 
aid. 

Oh,"  said  she,  "I'll  call  your  father.  Or 
be— Taw — you'd  better  tell  Doctor 
lald." 

Tell  him  what?"  Peter  took  hold  of 
)e.  "What  ails  you?  "  he  said.  "  I  came  to 
van." 

How  did  you?"  she  asked.  "I  mean — 
t  now?" 

HIS  morning,"  Peter  said,  "I  woke  up 
'oodberry,  Virginia,  and  1  was  talking  to 
elf.  'Get  the  ten-thirty  train  from  Roa- 
i,'  1  said.  So  1  did.  Mum  told  me  about 
Jim.  How  is  he?  " 

hloe's  face  screwed  sideways  and  tears 
ted  down  it.  She  stumbled  forward  clum- 
and  Peter  held  her  in  his  arms  while  her 
jing  was  mufifled  and  then  silenced  against 
best.  He  began  to  search  his  ix)ckets  and 
nded  him  my  clean  handkerchief, 
hen  Chloe  got  through  blowing  her  nose, 
n  hungry,"  Peter  said.  "Can  I  stay  for 
)er?" 

efore  ten  o'clock  Doctor  Mebane  sent 
lown  to  eat.  But  I  wasn't  hungry.  1  had  a 
ke  in  the  dark  living  room,  sitting  on  the 


People  who  find  excuses 
for  others  seldom  need  any 
for  themselves. 

—  ELSIE  LINCOLN  BENEDICT 


lk)or  near  to  where  Chloe  and  I'cler  were,  in 
the  window  seat. 

IVter  was  leaving  in  the  inorninu.  IIih 
i-oming  had  cost  him  a  school  day  and 
I  went  y-five  demerits.  But  lie  would  Ik'  back 
for  sure,  he  said,  on  Sunday,  (KIoIkt  liflh. 
He  would  spend  all  day  with  us  lKrau««- 
(.  iiloe,  if  Mr.  lleyward  improved,  was  goin^ 
off  to  school  Ihal  nighi. 

For  a  week  I  liverl  m  Mr.  lIcyward'H 
room.  The  mantel  clock  kepi  lo  the  hours,  bui 
sometimes  we  fornoi  whether  lliey  were  ol 
day  or  night.  Tiie  shades  were  drawn,  in  a 
s|)ell  of  gray  weather,  and  Mrs.  1  ley  ward  was 
always  dressed  in  negligees.  Bui  her  coming 
m  could  remind  me  of  which  live  or  nine 
o'clock  it  was.  It  was  mostly  past  noon  when 
there  was  li(|uor  on  her  brealii. 

Aftkk  Mr.  lleyward's  transfusion,  for 
which  my  blood  was  rightly  matched,  he  got 
belter.  lie  was  satisfied  alxiut  the  inirs<' 
Doctor  Mebane  got  in  to  rest  me,  and  Mrs. 
lleyward  decided  she  could  ^oon  up  lo  New 
York  with  Chloe.  They  slill  had  the  drawing 
room  on  the  Sunday  sleeper.  But  on  Friday 
night  Mrs.  lleyward  told  me  lo  n^'l  the 
reservation  changed  to  the  next  night 
Saturday. 

The  pale  gray  suits  that  Mis.  lleyward 
and  Chloe  wore  for  traveling  had  been  made 
in  New  York  by  somelx)dy  called  Herman 
Palric  Tappe.  Chkie's  little  round  hat  was  of 
the  same  stuff  as  the  suits,  but  Mrs.  lley- 
ward had  something  like  a  man's  lial  with  a 
long   emerald-colored   veil    that  wrapiicd 
round  it  and  hung  down.  She  stepped  u|) 
easily  enough  as  1  handed  her  onlo  the  train, 
but  in  spile  of  Mr.  Tappe  she  had  come  lo 
liie  time  when  the  fact  of  her  corset  would 
strike  you.  Il  kind  of  came 
at  you,  like  the  stuff  on 
her  eyelashes  or  the  ex- 
treme cleanness  of  her 
teeth,  and  cut  off  any 
thought  about  the  body 
inside  the  slays. 

The  Crescent  Limited 
made  a  ten-minute  stop 
in  lleyward  so  there  were 
still  five  minutes  left  after 
I'd  stowed  the  luggage  and  got  back  on  the 
platform.  Chloe  came  out  lo  the  vestibule. 

"Tell  Peler,"  she  said,  "1  didn't  know  till 
today.  I  didn't  know  I  wouldn't  be  here! 

And  Taw-^tell  him  "  She  broke  off.  for 

the  sound  of  Peter's  running  feet  was  grow- 
ing louder  along  the  platform.  His  rumpled 
clothes  were  streaked  with  soot  from  the  day 
coach  of  the  Roanoke  train  that  could  be 
heard  now  grinding  away  from  the  south- 
bound side  of  the  depot. 

Peter  spread  his  arms  across  the  opening 
to  the  Pullman  steps.  He  leaned  cn  his  hands, 
breathing  hard,  and  looked  up  at  Chloe. 

"Hi."  said  Peter,  and  the  evening  air  blew 
west  while  they  gazed  at  one  another. 

The  shout  of  "All  a-bo-o-ard"  was  going 
up  when  Peler  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at 
me.  "Thanks  for  the  telegram."  he  said. 

Mrs.  Heyward's  green  veil  flickered  ahead 
of  her  into  the  vestibule.  "Well.  Peter!"  she 
cried  gaily.  "How  nice  to  have  a  cavalier  to 
see  us  off!" 

Peter  had  to  lower  his  arms  and  drop  back 
so  the  porter  could  go  up  with  the  step  block. 
At  first  the  old  Negro  stood  wailing  for  the 
soiled  mussy  boy  to  tell  the  rich  important 
woman  good-by,  then  he  gave  up  and  dis- 
appeared into  the  car. 

"Really,  Peter!"  Mrs.  Hey  ward  laughed. 
"Has  the  cat  got  your  tongue?  A  penny  for 
your  thoughts!" 

"I  was  thinking,"  Peter  said,  "that  I'm 
liable  to  get  smarter,  and  you're  not  liable 
to.  And  anyway,  you  can't  jusl  gel  Chloe  off 
the  earth." 

Mrs.  Heyward  changed  her  look  of  being 
amused  into  a  glance  that  would  show  she 
was  afraid  Peter'd  gone  crazy. 

"So  there's  nowhere  you  can  put  her — is 
there,"  Peter  said,  "that  I  can't  get  to  in  the 
end?" 

"Peter" — Mrs.  Heyward  used  a  bland, 
advising  tone— "you'd  better  stop  this  non- 
sensical drivel  and  get  home  to  bed." 

The  train  had  begun  to  move.  Chloe  was 
just  standing  there,  quiet  and  pale  as  she  had 


S()n|)ino**(lulls  hiiir 
II ALo'olorjfios  il  ! 


Yes,  "soaping"  your  hair 
with  even  finest  liquid  or  cream  shampoos 
hides  its  natural  lustre  with  dulling  soap  film. 

Halo — made  with  a  special  ingredient — contains  no 
soap  or  sticky  oils  to  dull  your  hair.  Halo  reveals 

shimmering  highlights  .  .  .  leaves  your  hair 
soft,  fragrant,  marvelously  manageable! 
No  special  rinsing  needed.  Halo  does 
not  dry .  .  .  does  not  irritate! 

Halo  glorifies  your  hair 

with  your  very  first  shampoo 


78 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


Mardi,  l|J 


The  story  of 
two  fat  men 


One  acted  unwisely  ...  he  always 
ate  too  much;  he  tried  to  lose  weight 
quickly  through  strenuous  exercise,  self- 
prescribed  drugs,  and  other  short-cuts  to 
.weight  reduction. 


One  reduced  sensibly  ...  he  con- 
sulted his  doctor  about  his  weight  prob- 
lem, and  followed  a  properly  balanced 
diet  to  bring  his  weight  down  gradually, 
and  keep  it  at  a  desirable  level. 


OVERWEIGHT  is  ouF  country's  Number 
One  health  problem  today.  In  fact,  it  is 
estimated  that  there  are  about  25  million 
Americans  who  are  burdened  by  excess 
pounds. 

Medical  authorities  stress  the  health 
hazards  of  overweight  more  than  ever  be- 
fore. The  reason  for  this  is  simple : 

Continuing  studies  show  that  overweight 
people  do  not  live,  on  the  average,  as  long  as 
those  who  keep  their  weight  at  a  desirable 
level.  This  is  because  excessive  fat  tends  to 
increase  a  person's  chances  of  possibly  de- 
veloping one  or  more  diseases  of  the  heart 
and  blood  vessels,  diabetes,  liver  and  gall 
bladder  disease  and  other  disorders. 

Overweight  may  reduce  physical  effi- 
ciency and  often  is  a  serious  handicap  in 
the  event  an  operation  is  needed,  or  an 
acute  illness  occurs.  In  addition,  over- 
weight is  apt  to  place  an  unnecessary  strain 
on  many  vital  organs,  especially  the  heart. 
It  has  been  estimated,  for  example,  that 
for  every  20  pounds  of  excess  weight,  one's 
heart  must  serve  about  12  extra  miles  of 
blood  vessels. 

So,  it  is  important  to  keep  a  watchful 
eye  on  your  weight  and  start  reducing  as 
soon  as  any  unwelcome  pounds  appear. 

Safe  and  sensible  weight  reduction 


should  always  begin  with  a  visit  to  your 
doctor.  He  will  examine  you  and  suggest 
what  weight  is  best  for  you.  His  decision 
will  be  based,  in  part,  on  your  height  and 
age,  as  well  as  your  bone  structure  and  the 
kind  of  life  you  lead. 

Nearly  all  cases  of  overweight  are  due 
to  eating  too  much.  There  are  various  rea- 
sons for  excessive  eating— emotional  diffi- 
culties, for  example.  Whatever  the  cause, 
the  doctor  can  usually  help  you  to  develop 
a  sound  weight  reduction  program.  This 
will  usually  include  a  properly  balanced 
diet;  one  which  will  bring  about  the  de- 
sired reduction  slowly,  usually  at  the  rate 
of  about  two  pounds  a  week,  and  also  sup- 
ply the  body  with  the  necessary  protective 
food  elements. 

However,  no  diet  will  produce  satis- 
factory results,  unless  there  is  a  deter- 
mined effort  made  by  the  patient  to 
reduce. 

With  the  doctor's  advice  and  a  firm  res- 
olution to  cooperate  wholeheartedly,  an 
overweight  person  can  usually  attain  the 
desired  weight — at  which  he  will  look,  feel, 
and  act  best.  Remember  that  proper  weight, 
in  terms  of  everyday  comfort  and  longer 
life,  is  worth  whatever  effort  is  required  to 
achieve  and  maintain  it. 


been  all  day.  But  with  Peter's  next  words  her 
face  fiushed  and  her  small  bosom  rose  and 
shocked  my  eye  with  its  sudden  woman- 
breasted  look. 

Peter  was  following  the  train  forward.  "  In 
the  end,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Heyward,  "you 
won't  even  be  there.  In  the  end  there'll  be 
nothing  but  Chloe  and  me." 

Considering  the  fee,  it  might  have  seemed 
surprising  how  hard  it  was  for  Mrs.  Heyward 
to  find  the  right  architect  to  build  the  place 
at  Blowing  Rock.  But  she  kept  on  till  in  Bos- 
ton she  found  a  lame  young  man  with  a 
startling  forehead  and  choice  manners  and 
the  black  lazy  eye  of  Lucifer.  He  understood, 
Mrs.  Heyward  said.  In  any  case,  when  the 
thing  was  done — when  its  fortress  front 
jutted  and  scowled  off  the  cliff  edge  toward 
Grandfather  Mountain  and  the  hundred 
yards  of  crewelworked  cloth  and  the  three- 
thousand-dollar  tapestry  were  all  hung  up 
inside  its  walls  and  the  mile  of  red  carpet  was 
padJed  down  over  its  stone  corridors— Mrs. 
Heyward  was  satisfied ;  and  she  never  thought 
at  all  that  the  young  man  from  Boston  had 
made  up  a  joke  for  himself  which  seemed  to 
him  every  bit  as  choice  as  his  manners. 

I  don't  know  how  long  Mrs.  Heyward  had 
had  this  house  in  mind— "Castlecroft"  was 
its  name— but  she  never  brought  up  the 
subject  of  building  it  till  October  of  1924 
when  she  came  back  from  putting  Chloe  in 
school  and  found  Mr.  Heyward  well  enough 
to  be  downstairs  for  part  of  each  day. 

It  was  not  just  being  tired  so  much  of  the 
time — with  only  the  skimpy  things  of  his 
ulcer  diet  to  go  on — that  led  Mr.  Heyward 
to  agree  about  building  this  "retreat,"  as 
Mrs.  Heyward  called  it.  The  truth  was  that 
after  the  night  he  took  sick  and  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward put  up  such  a  fuss  to  stay  by  him  there 
began  a  healing  inside  the  bandage  of  polite- 
ness he  had  so  long  worn  before  his  wife.  In 
his  shuttered  sickroom  he  had  lain  waiting 
for  her  comings  in.  And  she  had  come  often. 

She  would  talk  to  him  about  Heyward 
Mills  as  few  women  could  have,  since 
most  women  who  knew  as  much  about  busi- 
ness as  she  did  might  have  sometimes  forgot- 
ten that  he  knew  even  more.  She  would  sit 
with  him  in  the  library  until  he  had  to  go 
back  to  bed.  They  should  really  have  a  place 
out  of  town,  she  said,  for  those  times  when  he 
would  need  a  rest  from  business.  He  thought 
of  a  farm  in  Alamance  County  or  a  log  house 
in  the  mountains.  "But  Jim— Chloe's  grow- 
ing up,  you  know,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said, 
"and  all  young  ladies  ought  to  have  some 


'resort'  life.  We  may  want  our  peaceiij  : 
quiet— but  we  put  her  in  this  world.  So  fry 
Blowing  Rock;  I  say— kill  two  birds  with  « 
stone." 

"We"  and  "our"  she  had  said.  Mti 
she  wasn't  looking  he  gazed  at  her,  anc  le 
rest  of  her  words  did  not  fall  strangely  o;;i£ 
ear. 

He  remembered  that  he  had  once  proni  "J-  \ 
to  build  her  a  house,  any  kind  she  wail; 
And  he  agreed  that  this  should  be  it. 

When  Mr.  Heyward  got  back  to  the ;  Is 
his  work  there  and  his  business  trips  n 
all  he  could  manage.  But  even  after  he  l  «• 
what  kind  of  place  Mrs.  Heyward  meaiito 
have  he  went  along  about  it  as  besjie 
could,  listening  to  her  while  he  had  lis 
supper  trays  in  bed.  j 

Afterwhile  she  stopped  talking  to  hii- 
being  so  busy  with  the  young  man  » s  | 
had  been  brought  from  Boston— but  i.i 
Heyward  kept  right  along,  coming  dirni  ' 
evenings  in  his  dressing  gown  to  wheniis(  jj 
wife  and  the  young  man  sat  amidst  ij:irtl^; 
piles  of  blue  paper.  ,  \ 

It  was  the  spring  of  '25  that  the  Bolm) 
fellow  was  staying  with  us.  The  town  of  I'y. 
ward  had  never  seen  anything  like  him  id 
he,  for  his  part,  was  very  fond  of  Smith-Id 
ham  and  good  bourbon,  so  they  went  a 
great  many  parties,  he  and  Mrs.  Heyw  J 

They  were  going  to  something  at  the  c  i- 
try  club  the  evening  Mr.  Heyward  c  le 
out  to  the  limousine  and  looked  at  Mrs.  ]  y- 1 
ward  sitting,  waiting  for  the  young  ma'Iti 
was  the  fourth  night  running  that  Mr.  1  iy-j 
ward  had  told  them  good-by  and  gom  ip 
to  his  bed,  and  he  said  in  a  plain  clear  he 
that  anyone  would  remember  for  yijs, 
"Don't  go,  Kitty." 

"  Why,  Jim — what  ?  "  she  said.  "  Why  n 

"Because  it's  wrong,"  Mr.  Heyward  i 

I  WAS  used  to  having  people  talk  to  o 
people  as  if  I  weren't  there — drivinj 
serving — but  this  was  the  only  time 
Heyward  ever  did  it,  and  I  stared  over 
steering  wheel  and  wished  I  were  deaf. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Mrs.  Hey\1: 
asked,  but  her  husband  didn't  answer.  "0 
I  see,"  she  said.  "I  should  have  renrii-i 
bered— I'm  not  to  be  trusted  with  {ly 
man." 

"You  flatter  him,"  Mr.  Heyward  saic' 
"Then  why,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward,  "hy 

all  this?  Really,  Jim!  Here  I  am,  a  mid'j- 

aged  woman,  and  " 

"And  /,"  Mr.  Heyward  said,  "am  eldly^ 

my  darling.  Come  with  me." 


■'He  ivanis  us  to  do  our  own  thinking.  In 
short,  he  doesn''t  know  the  answer  either." 


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There  was  gilence  until,  "Jim."  she  Himl. 
'  I  lie  table's  en«aKed  And  the  Johnsons  rnusi 
ix'  already  llicre." 

"j  am  here,"  he  s;iid  "here." 

The  crack-step  sound  of  the  younn  man'H 
cane  came  alonn  the  |)orch,  and  "I'll  have 
lo  no."  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "Now-  at  this 
hour  it  would  Ix:  embarrassing;  and  what 
would  the  Johnsons  think?" 

"I  sometimes  wonder  what  tlu-y  think," 
Mr.  Heyward  said. 

■Jim!" 

I  was  netting  out  of  my  seal,  coming 
louiid  the  car  a«;iinst  the  time  when  I  should 
dose  the  d(H)r  for  the  younn  nian,  ;uid  I  had 
lo  see  Mrs.  Ilcywiird's  face.  Her  eyes,  larRe- 
pupiled,  seemed  lo  |X)ke  forward  at  her 
iuisbaiid.  "Is  thai  it?"  she  sjiid.  "!>>  you 
liunk  people  are  talking?  Are  they?" 

"  I'robably,"  Mr.  Heyward  s;iid. 

"AlxHit  him?"  Mrs.  Heyward  cast  an  un- 
luipi)y,  dislx;licvinK  ulancc  at  the  youn^ 
man  who  was  very  near  now.  "And  me? 
Are  you  sure?" 

"No,"  Mr.  Heyward  said. 

"Well  "  Mrs.  Heyward  nathered  up 

her  feather  scarf,  and  "Oh,  Alex,"  she  said 
to  the  IJoston  fellow,  "would  you  mind  ^^<)in^; 
on  alone?  Tell  Penny  I'll  phone  her  in  the 
morning.  I've  a  headache." 

I  think  even  Mrs.  Heyward  was  amazed 
at  how  large  a  iwrlion  of  his  small  energy 
Mr.  Heyward  spent  on  the  building  at 
lilowing  Rock.  Il  came  lo  be  the  only  thing 
outside  of  his  business  that  he  attended  lo, 
and  he  saved  his  strength  for  il  as  a  i3<x)r  man 
would  save  money  lo  buy  a  needed  medicine. 
He  concerned  himself  closely  with  the  build- 
ers, and  with  Ihe  engineers  who  blasted  the 
cliff  edge  lo  levelncss  and  made  the  winding 
road  up  lo  il.  Whenever  he  was  able  he  had 
medrivehim  lo  Blowing  E^ock.  He  did  not  like 
the  plans  for  the  house  or  look  forward  with 
any  pleasure  lo  owning  it  or  living  in  it.  But 
he  attended  solemnly  to  getting  il  finished. 

By  early  June  of  '2.5  Mrs.  Heyward  could 
see  that  landscaping  the  way  up  to  the  cliff 
ledge,  and  constructing  a  road,  and  readying 
a  place  for  foundations  were  bigger  tasks 
than  the  Boston  fellow  had  let  on.  She  also 
saw  that  Mr.  Heyward  would  get  them  done 
in  the  best  and  ciuickest  way  and  she  decided, 
overnight,  to  take  Chloe  to  Europe.  Without 
even  a  trunk— with  jusl  bags— she  was  off 
on  the  train  to  New  York  where  she  plucked 
Chloe  out  of  school  before  il  was  closed. 

I  tried  to  imagine  what  Chloe  would  look 
like,  in  the  rich  apartments  of  the  ship,  or 
by  a  railing  in  wind  with  sea  fog  or  sea  sun- 
light around  her.  But  I  was  afraid  I  would 
get  it  all  wrong.  Since  I  had  seen  her  she  had 
cut  off  her  hair  and  outgrown  her  clothes  and 
her  hands  and  feet,  she  claimed,  had  "  turned 
out  to  be  that  horrible,  long,  useless-looking 
kind."  These  facts  she  had  written  to  Peter 
instead  of  sending  the  photograph  he  wanted 
for  Christmas.  He  had  asked  for  her  picture 
when  it  turned  out  he  wouldn't  see  her 
when  Mrs.  Heyward  got  up  the  trip  to 
Quebec  just  before  Chloe  was  due  home. 

For  Easter  Chloe  had  been  sent  to  Atlantic 
City.  Neither  Peter  nor  I  was  to  see  her  again 
for  a  long  lime.  Even  the  following  fall  when 
we  thought  surely  she  would  visit  home  she 
was  taken  straight  off  the  boat  to  the  next 
school— the  school  up  in  Connecticut. 

Hey  ward-Canadian  and  Hey  ward- Ala- 
bama and  Heyward  Export  Company  and 
the  mills  down  beyond  the  depot  were  being 
webbed  into  a  giant  thing  called  Heyward- 
Consolidated  and  Mr.  Heyward  had  to 
travel,  attending  to  it.  Whenever  he  was 
home  I  would  drive  him  to  Blowing  Rock.  In 
October  Mrs.  Heyward  came  back  and  she 
bit  her  lips  at  his  thinness— but  the  founda- 
tions of  Castlecroft  were  well  along.  They 
were  finished  by  late  November.  Then  the 
hard  map  of  granite  blocks  and  sliced  earth 
was  left,  glaring  to  the  sky's  glare,  until 
building  should  begin  again  next  spring. 

Before  Christmas  Doctor  Mebane  said  Mr. 
Heyward  had  better  let  up  and  get  away 
from  work.  So  Mr.  Heyward  took  me  hunt- 
ing with  him,  and  we  went  upland  to  a  place 
where  I  knew  we  would  find  wild  turkey. 
(Co7ilinued  on  Page  SI) 


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LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


Vardk,  IS6L 


Like  a  going- aicay  corsage 
...your  Samsonite  is 

HIGH  FASHION  aud 
HIGHLY  FLATTERING! 

What  a  thrill... to  get  a  going-away  corsage! 
And  LIKE  a  lovely  corsage . . .  Samsonite  luggage 
adds  drama  to  your  departure,  blends  with  your  travel 
clothes,  flatters  you  tremendously . 

That's  because  Samsonite  is  high  fashion.  The 
costume  colors.  The  tapered  shape.  The  better-than- 
leather  finish  that  stays  clean  with  a  damp  cloth. 

And  the  woman-planned  interiors  are  a  fastidious 
woman's  dream!  Elegant  linings ...  alabaster-smooth 
plastic  hangers ...  dividers,  ribbons  and  shirred  pockets. 
Yet  a  set  of  two  pieces  costs  less  than  what  you'd  e.xpect 
to  pay  for  just  one  piece  of  such  fine  quality  luggage. 

SHOWN  AT  RIBHT  IN  BERMUDA  GREEN: 

A.  Tram  Case  ....  S17.50 

B.  Ladies'  Wardrobe  ....  $25.00 

C.  O'Nite  (Convertible)  ....  J22.5fl 

D.  O'Nite  (Regular)  $19.50 

E-  Ladies'  Wardrobe  (open— below),  $25.00* 


NOT  SHOWN:  Pullman 


$27.50      Hand  Wardrobe 


J35.(W 


All  Samsonite  cases  also  :       .  -  =      :':ese  rich  finishes: 


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Co'c 


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PAN  AMBBICAN  WOSlO  A}RWAYS 


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Shwoyder  Bros..  Inc..  Luggoge  Division.  Denver  9,  Colorado  Also  mofcers  of 

Samscn  Foldaway  Tables  and  Chairs.  Foldrng  Furniture  Div.   De'"^c''-  2^.  M  c'^. 


11 


'  ^    "    I    •  II    <»    M    I        )    o    I     H     N    \  I 


HI 


(C'oHlinuiil  from  l^ane  7V) 

;  not  our  four  birds  in  one  day  and  then 
ext  day  we  not  none,  for  we  fell  to  lalk- 
\'c  had  come  to  (jur  dry  stream  bed  by 
inie  of  first  liuht.  This  was  t(X)  steep  a 
,  really.  Standing,  we  could  barely  aim 
Hut  I  said  we  should  wait  here,  for  I 
till  the  mortal  cold  t(x)  much  for  Mr. 
,ard  in  spite  of  the  lleece-lincd  boots 
:l()thes  we  had  and  here  he  could  be 
f  the  wind.  A  slice  of  sun  came  over 
orld's  east  rim  and  all  in  one  minute  it 
ned  the  bin  clouds  overhead,  and  then 
tile  ones  of  my  breath,  and  it  made  a 
diamond  of  each  frosty  stone, 
aw  sit  down,"  Mr.  Heyward  said, 
vlien  I  had,  "How  old  are  you?"  he 
.  "Twenty-eifiht?"  I  nodded.  "Now 
ell  me."  he  went  on.  "once  and  for  all  — 
s  the  matter  with  you?  W  hat  do  you 
you're  doinn?  ' 
allinn  turkey."  I  said, 
op  it."  Mr.  Heyward  said.  "You  know 
I  mean.  You're  fired.  Taw." 
hy?"  I  said. 

icause  you  have  no  life  of  your  own. 
ise  by  this  lime  you  ounht  to  be  well 
to).,ettinR  your  fortune."  Mr.  Heyward 
J  hard  at  me.  "Because  I  hate  waste, 
ise   you    have    first-class  half-used 

lid.  "How  can  you  tell  it's  not  second- 
rd-class  full-used  brains?" 
y  obser%'ation."  Mr.  Hey^vard  said, 
i^h  that  combination  might  also  make 
•rfect  servant." 

re  you  firing  me."  I  asked,  "for  being 
•rfect  servant?" 

L's."  said  Mr.  Hey-  "  ' 


'  tf  ie 
.  de- 
(>ur  waKen 


sat  in  silence,  hearing 
:ak  of  branches,  until 
the  blueness  of  Mr. 
ard's  lips  and  began 
)ack  the  Thermos. 

aw   "  Mr.  Hey- 

3  hand  was  on  mv 


to  get  me  out  and  lake  over  Si  li-avt  tliem 
out  But  Mill  Village  we  will  take  m  " 
"We?"  I  said. 

Mr.  Heyward  n<x\(\,-<\  and  wa»  wlenl 
Presently    -I.'  can  Hiart  in  Ihc 

spring."  he  s.i  ,  „.  while  we  looked 

at  each  other,    Well    ,um  wliai?" 

"Well  wliataboutpay?"lHaid  "MiKlun't 
a  man  lx.-tler  lix  his  own  luiuse  and  buy  wliat 
he  needs  for  himself?" 

Mr.  Heyward  dug  his  elU 
dirt.  "Shall  I  give  tla-m  ni> 
manded.  I  ajuldn't  help  smiling 
are  pretty  gfxxl."  he  said. 

"Compared  to  some,  sir."  I  said,  "but 
the  profits  are  dandy,  aren't  they?" 

""And  Tm  going  to  keep  'em  that  way.'" 
said  Mr.  Heyward. 

I  KNELT  to  pack  the  TJiermtw.  for  the  sun 
was  climbing  When  I'd  finished.  " Noii  " 
Mr.  Heyward  said,  "get  me  out  of  this 
damned  reformatory ! " 

1  went  up  ahead  and  pulled  him  over  the 
steep  side  of  the  stream  bed. 

We  had  got  to  the  ridge  when  he  began  to 
talk  again.  The  mills  at  home  were  only 
afliliated.  he  explained,  and  nearly  all  the 
stock  was  owned  by  his  family.  There  he 
could  do  what  he  pleased.  ""What  we"ll  do." 
he  said,  "is  find  out  what  comes  of  paying 
the  best  wages  m  the  business." 

The  light  glinted  from  our  handsome 
English  guns.  We  walked  and  talked  in  the 
high  fine  morning  and  Mr.  Heyward "s  voice 
was  clear  in  the  air.  and  as  I  heard  it  there 
was  growing,  secret  and  silent,  rooted  on  the 
scar  of  his  illness,  the  bud 
0  O  O  C  of  clustering  cells,  the  tiny 
mortal  flower  of  disease. 


no  one 


I   will  chide 

the  world  except  myself, 
against  whom  I  know  most 
faults. 

—MOTTO  OF  ORLANDO 


•tme  stay.  sir.  "I  said. 

nodded.  '"Of  course.  But  it's  OTong." 

D."  I  said. 

Aill  show  you,"  he  said.  "For  instance. 
;  of  a  woman  you'd  want  to  marry.  Can 
sscnbe  her?"  I  shook  my  head.  "Well, 
Du  try?  Try.  I'm  not  asking  idly." 
id.  "She  would  have  little  wrist  bones 
lore  pity  for  people  than  fear  of  them, 
ven  if  she  grew  very  learned  there  would 
ne  part  of  her  that  stayed  like  a  child 
very  end.  And  at  the  end  she'd  still  be 
iful."  I  said,  "becauseof  the  skull  under- 
,  and  the  other,  matching  bones.  And 
es— even  with  the  blue  faded — would 
ut  the  same  way." 

hat  way?"'  Mr.  Heyward  asked,  and 
startled. 

le  young  way."  I  said,  "that  comes 
jeing  wise  to  start  with." 
;r\vhile  Mr.  Heyward  said.  "I  can 
lake  my  point.  This  woman  is — is  not 
iry.  Where  will  you  meet  her?  How? 
lave  no  friends.  You  have  no  time." 
something  to  do  I  drank  a  little 

hen  an  able  man  buries  himself,"  Mr. 
ard  went  on,  "he  not  only  wastes  his 
e  robs  others.  Able  men  have  got  to 
goods  and  services.  In  this  country^ 
the  best  brains  are  in  business." 
den  why."  I  asked,  "have  they  made 

I  mess?" 

(plain  that  asinine  remark." 

L  I  know,  sir,"  I  said,  "is  Mill  Village 
zing  in  winter  and  hell  in  summer  and 
any  people  are  sick  in  it  all  year  round— 

II  this  has  no  business  being  coimected 
•ou."" 

[  course.  I  could  give  up  manufactur- 
said  Mr.  Hey'ward.  "and  organize  a 
sale  charity." 

3u  could  give  Mill  Milage  a  chance  to 
are  of  itself.  You  could  stop  fighting  off 
alking  delegates  the  way  you  do." 
night."  Mr.  Heyward  said,  "'if  I  didn't 
that  two  thirds  of  what  they  want  is 
pure  and  simple.  I  intend  to  stay  in 
ss.  and  the  aim  of  the  delegates  is 


Sometimes  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward would  want  to  take 
her  car  and  me  along  to 
those  places  she  and  Chloe 
were  always  visiting.  But 
Mr.  Heyward   grew  no 
stronger  and  she  had  no 
time.  Mrs.  Heyward  said, 
to  break  in  a  new  servant  to  leave  be- 
hind. So  I  stayed  home.  Peter  had  said 
Mrs.  Heyward  couldn"t  get  Chloe  off  the 
earth.  But  I  will  say  she  got  her  around 
over  it.  What  with  school  and  Europe  and 
Santa  Barbara  and  Bermuda  and  Palm 
Beach  we  hadn't  a  glimpse  of  Chloe  at  home 
for  over  two  years. 

Chloe  finally  came  home  at  Christmastime. 
Mrs.  Heyward  and  I  had  "settled"  Castle- 
crofi.  She  wanted  it  ready  for  her  holiday 
house  party  and  I  spent  many  a  fourteen 
hours  on  my  feet  while  the  decorating  people 
and  the  furniture  vans  from  New  York  came 
and  went  and  the  caretaker-chef  and  his 
parlormaid  wife  arrived  and  were  installed. 
When  I  saw  Chloe  again  it  was  not  like  I'd 
thought  it  would  be.  In  the  first  minute  her 
height  and  shapeliness  and  the  beautiful 
clothes  she  wore  seemed  like  a  disguise  that 
Chloe  had  purposely  put  on  against  me.  Then 
I  saw  how  she  came  skimming  on  little  heels, 
armored  in  squirrel  fur.  frail  and  unyielding, 
secretly  rich,  and  out  of  reach. 

When  we  came  face  to  face.  "\Iiss  Chloe." 
I  said  stiffly.  But  suddenly  there  were  her 
eyes  looking  up.  constant  and  blue-deep. 
"Why— Taw,"  said  the  pink  mouth. 

"Taw  "  and  the  eyes  clouded  as  I  jerked 

my  hand  to  my  cap.  "Oh."  Chloe  said, 
faltering,  "how— how  are  you?" 

But  she  forgave  me  for  my  foolishness 
within  the  hour,  without  a  word,  and  she 
came  and  perched  on  my  high  stool  in  the 
pantry,  talking  while  I  worked. 

She  rode  beside  me  on  the  front  seat  of  the 
limousine  going  up  to  Blowing  Rock  and 
when  her  mother  knocked  on  the  glass, 
pointing,  as  we  rounded  the  curve  that 
brought  Castlecroft  into  \-iew.  she  had  only 
to  nod  and  smile.  She  never  said  anything 
at  aU  to  me  about  the  place  except  once.  I 
had  shown  her  the  little  gilt  elevator  that  was 
fastened  inside  the  stair  well  leading  up  to  her 
tower  room,  and  as  she  looked  round  at  this 
huge  stone  cubicle  prepared  for  her.  ""This  is 
as  good  a  place  as  any  for  smoking  my  first 
cigarette."  and  "  Yes,"  she  said,  "just  this 
one,"  and  she  held  out  her  hand  to  me  so 


relax  in  Canada 


Every  ruad  Icuda  tu  "picture  playgruundn" 


CANADA  is  generous  with  her  holiday  havens  . . .  gre^n-linpcl  rivers,  quiet  car:       -  . 
friendly  resorts.  Mountain  wonderlan<l>  and  vast  National  Park'  bring  you  in-piring 
scenery,  "close-ups  "  of  fascinating  wildlife.  Visit  relali%es.  meet  interesting  people  in 
'■foreign"  cities.  Seek  out  little  treasure-stores  for  handicrafts,  woollens,  fine  china. 


EMJOY  "life-on-a-lake"  . . .  with  canoe- 
ing, fishing,  swimming;  or  crui.se 
great  inland  waters  for  glamorous 
shipboard        -    ''    ■  •  -  ; 


FOLLOW  colotirful  coastlines  where  youH  linger 
on  uncrowded  beaches.  Motor  on  modem  high- 
ways. See  all  you  can  of  Canada.  See  your  travel 

coupon  now. 


01-1.16-S3-02 

CANADIAN   GOVERNMENT   TRAVEL  BUREAU 

Department  of  Resource;  and  Derelnpnienl.  Ottawa.  Canada 

Please  send  your  48-page,  full-colour  book  on 
vacation  attractions  in  all  parts  of  Canada. 


(PIXASE  raivr) 


82 


LADIES'       HOME       JOURN  AL 


March,  1953 


that  I  did  not  argue,  but  gave  her  one  and 
held  the  match  for  her. 

She  had  thrown  open  a  leaded  casement 
and  was  standing  still  in  the  rush  of  cold  air. 
"  I  shall  have  to  grow  my  hair,"  she  said,  and 
held  up  one  short,  gold-curving  tip  of  it.  "  It's 
the  right  color,  anyway." 

"What?"  I  said,  and  she  smiled.  "Don't 
you  remember?"  she  asked,  "In  Grimm's? 
Rapunzel.  'Rapunzel,  Rapunzel,  let  down 
your  gold  hair!'" 

Peter  drove  his  parents  up  on  Christmas 
Day.  He  and  Chloe  went  walking  off  to- 
gether—both hatless  in  the  cold— even  be- 
fore he  came  into  the  house.  And  yet  I 
thought  there  was,  during  his  visit,  a  little 
distance  between  them.  We  three  had  no 
talk  as  of  old  (what  with  a  dozen  house  guests 
and  the  maids  from  home  never  knowing 
where  things  were).  Peter  had  brought  his 
play.  All  afternoon  on  New  Year's  Eve 
Peter  read  aloud  to  Chloe  in  his  parents' 
room  an(^  for  once  Mrs.  Heyward,  who  was 
losing  at  poker,  did  not  ask  where  they  were. 

"For  your  age,"  Chloe  said  as  they  came 
down  to  tea,  "it's  wonderful." 

"For  your  age  you're  being  lofty,"  Peter 
said.  "I  didn't  ask  if  it  was  any  good.  Just 
answer  me  one  thing.  Do  you  like  it?" 

Chloe  looked  at  him  graciously.  "  No,"  she 
said. 

They  stood— turning  sort  of  peaked,  both 
of  them— directly  in  the  path  of  my  tea 
wagon  until  Peter  closed  his  mouth.  "Well," 
he  said,  "well— neither  do  I  .  .  .  much." 

But  then  he  stared  somberly  into  the  fire- 
place, letting  his  tea  grow  cold,  so  that  Mrs. 
Heyward  came  crying 
gaily,  "Why  Peter!  What's 
all  this  gloom?" 

Chloe  looked  up  quietly. 
"We  don't  like  the  play," 
and  Mrs.  Heyward  cried 
out,  "Peter's  play?  Why 
Peter,  how  clever  of  you! 
Everybody !  Did  you  know 
this  child  wrote  a  play? 
Chloe,  why  don't  you  like 
it?  How  rude  of  you !  Don't  you  pay  any  at- 
tention to  her,  Peter,"  she  said  contentedly. 

Mrs.  Heyward  was  contented,  too,  as  we 
saw  the  Mebanes  off  next  day.  Chloe  had 
stood  on  the  steps  in  her  great  tweed  cloak 
while  Peter  shook  hands  all  round.  When  he 
came  to  her,  and  said— a  bit  offhand— "I'll 
see  you,"  she  just  nodded,  not  speaking. 

When  the  others  had  gone  back  indoors 
Chloe  stayed  looking  afar  off  into  the  bright 
noon.  "What's  the  matter?"  I  asked,  "Did 
you  have  a  fuss?" 

She  shook  her  head.  "That  would  have 
been  better,"  she  said. 

It  was  the  following  autumn  that  Chloe 
was  supposed  to  go  over  to  Miss  Nixon's 
School  in  Florence.  She  fought  against 
going.  "Taw,  they  can't  make  me,"  she 
said.  "I'm  going  to  stay  with  Daddy  this 
time."  But— as  if  it  were  something  dis- 
graceful he  could  not  avoid— her  father  was 
distressed  to  be  mortally  ill  before  her. 
Finally  one  evening  as  she  stood  by  his  bed, 
"  Do  you  want  me  to  go?  "  she  asked,  and  he 
nodded.  So  she  went. 

Mr.  Heyward  had  meant  to  spend  only  one 
summer  month  at  Castlecroft,  but  he  could 
not  get  up  to  go  back  home.  So  the  special 
doctor  from  the  hospital  came  down  to  live 
with  us  on  the  cliff  ledge.  We  had  to  hire  a 
boy  for  driving  as  autumn  wore  on  and  Mrs. 
Heyward  needed  to  go  down  more  and  more 
often  to  Heyward.  She  did  well,  her  hus- 
band said,  seeing  to  things  at  the  mills,  and 
she  sat  in  his  place  on  the  board  of  Com- 
munity Charities,  and  she  was  greatly  taken 
up  with  the  board's  annual  benefit.  There 
was  a  little  trouble,  Ola-Mae  wrote  me,  over 
Mrs.  Heyward's  "frankness"  about  the 
benefit.  Mrs.  General  Lindsay  was  chairman 
of  it,  and  some  people  appeared  not  to  like 
being  told  that  Mrs.  General  Lindsay  was 
"passee"and  that  the  benefit  had  better  be  a 
concert  of  Mrs.  Heyward's  Southern  Sonata 
instead  of  the  usual  recital  by  everybody's 
children.  Several  newspapers  over  the  state 
told  how  a  "little  symphony"  orchestra  in 
Charlotte  was  rehearsing  the  score,  and  how 


^  >«■  m    HI  Pi  m 

Life  is  not  so  short  but  that 
there  is  always  time  enough 
for  courtesy. 

—RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 

1^  mn      mil  ^1 1^ 
1  H  Hm  Hi  Mi  SB  ifli  Mi  BR 


the  man  from  Atlanta,  and  the  one  from  Rich- 
mond, the  music  critics,  were  coming  to  the 
great  event. 

By  November  the  doctor  and  nurse  were 
keeping  Mr.  Heyward  mostly  unconscious. 
Sometimes  he  would  wake  and  lie  sweating 
and,  if  Mrs.  Heyward  wasn't  there  to  see,  he 
would  clench  his  teeth  until  they  could  give 
him  the  morphine  again.  The  terrible  times 
when  he  would  try  to  eat  a  few  mouthfuls 
were  over  now.  Now  they  just  let  him  go 
along  on  the  liver  stuffs  they  put  into  his 
veins  and  French  Vichy  water  and  he  seemed 
to  improve.  People  often  lived  this  way  for 
a  long,  long  time,  the  doctor  said. 

Before  Thanksgiving  there  came  up  some 
serious  matters  at  the  bank  and  we  had 
to  get  Mr.  Heyward  to  sign  some  papers. 
He  asked  if  Mrs.  Heyward  was  going 
down  to  see  to  things,  but  she  hesitated  and 
hung  back  about  leaving  him.  He  seemed 
to  grow  stronger  on  his  pillow  then,  and  he 
said  how  these  important  matters  should 
really  be  attended  to — so  that  his  wife  might 
say  No,  I  want  to  s/ajy— and  she  listened  to 
him  and  seeing  how  much  better  he  looked, 
she  agreed  to  go. 

She  was  not  long  gone  when  the  doctor's 
child  was  run  over  in  Baltimore.  Mr.  Hey- 
ward dismissed  the  doctor  from  the  case  and 
sent  him  to  his  wife.  The  evening  the  nurse 
came  down  with  grippe  I  telephoned  to  Mrs. 
Heyward.  "Taw — is  he  worse?"  she  asked. 
"Tell  me  the  truth."  And  when  I  said  Mr. 
Heyward  seemed  to  stay  about  the  same  she 
said  she  would  be  able  to  start  back  after 
eleven  o'clock.  I  remembered,  then,  what 
night  this  was.  It  was  Thanksgiving,  the 
night  of  the  benefit  con- 
cert. 

Around  midnight  I  was 
letting  the  hearth  fire  die. 
It  was  too  hot  together 
with  the  steam  heat,  and 
though  a  great  wind 
pressed  against  the  win- 
dows I  thought  I  must 
open  them  a  bit  to  cool 
off  Mr.  Heyward's  room. 
I  was  surprised  to  find  Mr.  Heyward  awake. 
The  shadow  of  his  brow  was  dark  on  his  eye 
pits  and  his  eyes  dimmed  with  being  so  deep 
in  them.  Not  till  I  stood  up  could  I  see  how 
intently  the  eyes  were  looking  out  at  me. 

"It's  cold,"  Mr.  Heyward  said.  "You 
ought  to  be  in  bed.  Too  cold  to  sit  up."  | 
Round  drops  of  sweat  added  their  light  to  his  ; 
forehead.  I  wiped  them  off  and  as  I  reached  I 
to  where  the  hypodermic  needle  stood,  "Not  j 
yet,"  Mr.  Heyward  said. 

I  bundled  the  quilt  on  him,  but  still  he 
wanted  me  to  build  up  the  fire. 

When  all  was  done  my  clothes  were  stick-  1 
ing  to  me.  I  sat  down  again  beside  Mr.  Hey- 
ward and  I  saw  that  he  was  troubled.  He  told  ; 
me  he  had  dreamed.  His  dream  was  of  night  | 
and  a  waste  of  snow,  and  strains  of  his  wife's  I 
music  had  been  played  down  from  the  sky  and  l; 
some  heavy  fate  hung  upon  his  judgment  of  . 
the  music.  "But  I  couldn't  judge,"  he  said,  i 
"I  couldn't  hear  it." 

"But,  sir— you  dreamed  you  heard  it." 
"No,"  he  said.  "The  sky  was  thundering  i 
with  it.  I  knew  that.  But  I  couldn't  hear  it. 
And  I  thought,  //  /  knew  her — ij  I  had  known  ( 
her — then  I  could  hear  it,  and  I  woke." 


I  SAW  the  meager  peak  of  his  nose,  how  it 
pinched  toward  the  ceiling,  and  I  said, 
"  Well,  sir — well,  that's  farfetched,  all  right." 

"No,"  he  said,  "no."  The  fire  chunked 
down  and  snapped.  "I  have  never  known, 
for  instance,  whether  there  were  trees — or  if 
there  were  only  pavements — around  the 
house  she  lived  in  as  a  child." 

"Must  that  trouble  you,  sir?"  I  asked. 

And  he  said,  "  I  have  been  married  to  her 
for  eighteen  years.'' 

I  heard  the  long  soughing  of  the  wind  and 
wished  Mr.  Heyward  might  sleep.  "Once  in 
Chicago,"  he  said,  "  I  set  out  in  a  taxi.  It  was 
my  notion  that  I  could  go  back  and  forth 
over  the  South  Side,  and  that  when  I  saw  it  I 
would  recognize  the  place  where  the  red- 
haired  girl  with  the  dead  mother  and  unmen- 
tionable father  had  lived." 

"Unmentionable,  sir?" 

(Continued  on  Page  85) 


join  the 


lovely-waisted 


Jantzen  ^^curvallure 


"Curvallure"  is  what  happens  when  you're  under 
the  influence  of  a  Jantzen  breathing-topper 
that  flats  the  ribs,  takes  two  inches  off  your  age, 
moulds  you  a  beautiful  hipline . .  .via  the  lightest, 
most  comfortable  knit-in  boning.  Only  Jantzen 
has  it ...  in  girdles  and  panty-girdles . .  .with  two 
and  one-half  and  three  and  one-half  inch  tops... 
with  and  without  Talon  fasteners  7.95  to  12.50. 

Curvallure"  is  what  happens  when  you  wear  a 
Jantzen  "forever  uplift"  bra  with  perfect-moulding, 
perfect-holding  concentric  stitching  2.25  to  5.00. 


perfectly  marvelous  figuremakers 


mr  perfectly  marvelo 


Jantzen  Foundations  •  Empire  State  Building  •  New  York 


Today's  homes  present  scores  of  new  ideas  to  make  living  delightfully  easy.  In  design  and 
work -saving  features,  the  Cycla-matic  Frigidaire  provides  a  new  expression  of  this  trend. 


The  Cycla-matic  Frigidaire  with  the  NEW  IDEAS 
for  todays  new,  exciting"  way  of  living 


'leslet 


It's  a  true  food  freezer  plus  a  roomy 
refrigerator — with  a  new  kind 
of  automatic  defrosting 

Seldom  has  a  new  idea  caught  on  so  fast  as  "Cycla-matic." 
All  over  America  housewives  have  discovered  that  Cycla- 
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The  Cvcla-matic  Frigidaire  is  a  true  food  freezer  plus  a 
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Imperial  model  IS -106 


—you  use  it  when  you  choose.  Leftovers,  instead  of  bain! 
a  waste  or  a  problem,  can  be  saved  for  later  use.  You  ca| 
even  bake  bread,  pies,  cakes  — serving  part,  storing  thj 
rest.  And  always  have  plenty  of  ice  cubes  on  hand  in  eas)j 
to-operate  Quickube  Trays. 


New  ideas  in  automatic  defrosting !  Refrigeratoi, 
frost  is  banished  before  it  collects.  The  Cycla-matic  sys- 
tem, working  with  the  Refrig-o-plate,  both  cools  the  refrig- 
erator and  brings  you  the  fastest,  safest,  surest  automati< 
defrosting  known —  without  heat  or  manual  controls. 


New  ideas  in  fresh  food  storage !  New  exclusive 
Butter  Pre-Server  in  everv  Imperial  model  stores  butters 
at  safe  temperatures —  serves  it  sliced  in  easy-spreading  fet 
pats!    Frigidaire's   rust-proof  aluminum  Roll-to-You 
Shelves,  another  Frigidaire  first,  glide  out  all  the  way—'  ^ 
put  all  food  at  your  finger  tips.  There's  wonderfully  gen- 
erous storage  space,  spacious  door  shelves,  lots  of  welcome 
room.  You'll  find  a  new  kind  of  Levelcold  —  right  for  re- 
frigerator and  freezer.  See  the  wonderful  Cycla-matic 
models  that  Arthur  Godfrey  recommends  on  his  daytime  tkl: 
TV-radio  show !  Call  on  your  Frigidaire  Dealer.  His  name's  Ifit 
in  the  Yellow  Pages  of  the  phone  book  —  or  write  Frigid-'  »iyo 
aire  Division  of  General  Motors,  Dept.  16,  Davton  1,  Ohio'  jimt 

for  a  free  descriptive  folder.  In  Canada,  Toronto  13,  Ont.J 

^  'Mat 

iNo 

Cycla-matic 
Frigidaire 

The  Food  Freezer-Refrigerator 
built  and  backed  by  General  Motors 


"Gel 


Kishi 


Woman  can  build  a  house 
or  tear  it  down. 

—  DISRAELI 


(Coiiliniiiil  from  I'liw  <VJJ 

V  will  never  sjjeak  of  him." 
Ij  T  while  he  let  his  head  fall  round  till  he 
see  me.  I  iried  to  know  what  thoiiniil  it 
al  held  him  lonely  wilh  his  eye  on  mine 
ly  hand  ready  to  his  aid. 
said,  "She  had  a  leafy  hat.  Al  some- 
s  lea  in  Ixindon.  And  she  sann  a  con- 
t  the  Albert  Hall." 

know,  sir."  I  said.  "You  must  iiave 

jroud  of  Mrs.  Heyward." 

liss  I)obey,  she  was,"  he  said.  "And  she 

1  not  be  comforted." 

.'hat,  sir?" 

he  concert  was  not  successful." 
i  eyes  fell  shut  and  I  was  walcliinn, 
inn  he  sle])! ,  w  hen  he  ^ave  a  lonu  ^roan. 
his  jaw  droppi'd  down  and  all  at  once 
•ealh  benan  to  make  a  noise.  1  listened 
it  seemed  the  whole  niuht  must  be  worn 
,  and  when  I  could  not  lind  his  pulse  I 
^ht  I  must  fetch  the  nurse,  even  in  her 
,  to  help  me.  Hut  then  the  phle^my 
le  of  breathing  broke  off.  and  Mr.  I  ley- 
rose  up  as  if  he  were  blown  forward. 
I  eased  him  backward,  "  Did  you  never 
sir?"  I  said.  "Al3(.)ul  her  home  and  peo- 

l  can  be  line  "  he  besan,  but  then 

ps  stuck  together,  though  the  outsides 
dry  and  cracked.  I  poured  a  leaspoon- 
f  Vichy  and  he  swallowed  and  said,  "  It 
)e  line  not  to  know    not  to  care." 

,'es,  sir,"  I  said,  "but  if  you  did  care  " 

came  to-  "  he  said.  "  I  came  to  know — 
nothing  was  the  way  I  Ihoughl  it 
—slowly,  he  rolled  his  head  sideways  — 
that  nothing  had  changed  — from  the 
ming  -except —myself     — " 
s  eyes  were  closed 
I  and  he  did  not  an- 
when  I  spoke.  Kneel- 
eside  him,  I  saw  how 
1  too  silent  it  was, 
ttle  breath  that  came 
if  his  nostrils, 
th  the  phone  in  my 
I  could  hear  the  rain 
I  waited  to  get  through  to  Doctor  Me- 
lt was  falling  down  hard,  almost 
ly,  when  Mrs.  Heyward  came, 
'as  able  to  go  out  to  meet  her  alone.  The 
I,  after  her  exertions,  was  too  weak  to 
lerself  to  bed;  so  the  chef's  wife  went 
her.  to  stay  by  and  help  her.  I  went 
.  the  steps  as  the  boy  Lonzo  jumped 

0  open  the  door  of  the  limousine.  "De 
better?"  he  asked.  "Ain't  he  some 
r,  Mr.  Taw?"  But  I  didn't  answer, 
tse  Mrs.  Heyward's  face  suddenly 
;d  to  the  glass  pane  of  the  door,  and 
nzo  opened  it  she  was  wavering  against 
'e  caught  her  just  in  time.  The  silver 
r  flask,  stopperless.  clattered  out  onto 
ravel. 

■s.  Heyward  stood  between  Lonzo  and 
silent  and  still  in  the  dark,  until  a 
pled  piece  of  paper  drifted  from  her  hand 
e  ground.  It  was  the  concert  program, 
is  soon  as  she  saw  me  touch  it.  "Leave 
ne!"  she  cried.  "Leave  it  alone!" 

started  up  the  stone  steps.  She  tripped 
le  bottom  one.  but  she  came  into  the 
luite  steadily.  She  turned  on  me:  "  How 

you  leave  Mr.  Heyward?  Didn't  I  tell 
not  to  leave  him  even  for  a  minute? 
s  with  him  now?" 

ladam— Mrs.  Heyward,"  I  said,  "no 
No  one— now." 

she  took  in  the  meaning  of  my  words 
yes  so  darkened  while  her  arm  drew  up 
)ack  that  I  thought  she  would  strike  me. 

1  let  him  die,"  she  said.  "And  you  lied 
i  \  You  said  — you  said  I  could  stay!" 

i  turned  violently  and  went  swerving  to 
lir. 

let  me  something,"  she  said.  "Brandy," 
^hen  I  hesitated  she  fisted  her  hands. 
St  I  get  it  myself?" 

len  she  had  had  a  drink  she  wiped  at 
yes.  She  used  the  bare  back  of  her  hand, 
ihe  looked  up  out  of  the  black  stuff  that 
red  ofif  her  lashes.  "I  know— I  wasn't 
'  she  said. 

d  I  said,  "Madam,  forgive  me  that  I 
gnorant"— for  now  the  tears  were  fall- 
own  across  the  rouge  on  her  mouth — "  I 


didn't  know,  madam.  I  didn't  see  theduuH" 
coming." 

I  told  her  Doctor  Mebarie  was  on  hiH  way. 
and  Ihe  funeral  peo|)le  with  him.  She  drank 
again  and.  "They'll  tie  uh,  lale!"  she  s;iid. 
"The  .  .  .  muscles  all  rela.x  don't  they?" 
She  covered  her  face  with  her  liandH. 

"It's  all  right,"  I  said.  "Nurw  lie!|x-d  me, 
and  you'll  see  he's  all  right." 

She  held  the  decanler  to  her  and  not  till  w.- 
came  u|)  outside  the  bedr(K)m  could  I  take  ii 
As  1  st(K)d  back  her  hand  lightened  on  in-, 
arm.  "Co  on,"  she  whisiwred.  "Come  on." 

TiiiOKK  was  little  light  in  the  big  nxHii 
Nurse,  who wasC  athohc,  Ii:k!  thoughl  earlhl 
faces  of  departing  souls  should  be  turned  iii. 
and  theirearlhlyarmscrossedon  their  breasts. 
Hut  even  in  fever  she  was  a  knowing,  kindly 
woman,  so  she  had  U'fl  me  alone  to  hide  the 
hands  under  fresh  sheets.  I  rememlK-red  how 
firm,  how  durable  it  had  l(H)ked    the  face  o 
the  man  who  w^as  worried  Ix-cause  I  had  im 
friends   and  I  turned  the  small  sunken  fe.i 
tures  on  the  pillow  to  one  side    away  from 
the  light.  And    since  there  was  nothing  more 
to  do  for  my  friend  who  had  died    I  put  oui 
all  but  one  lamp. 

"Must  it  be  so  dark?"  Mrs.  Heyward 
said.  I  was  al>out  to  turn  on  a  light,  but  she 
had  come  to  the  bed  then,  and  "No!"  she 
said.  "Oh  no!  Leave  it,"  and  she  went  away 
to  the  fireplace  and  buried  her  face  on  her 
arms.  I  had  set  the  decanter  on  the  mantel 
and  when  al  last  Mrs.  Heyward  raised  her 
head  she  drank  straight  out  of  it.  The  way 
she  was,  I  feared  to  leave  her,  and  yet  I  knew 
she  should  be  a  while  alone  here.  I  started 

toward  the  dcx)r,  but  "  For  God's  sake  " 

she  said,  so  I  stood  where 
I  was,  and  presently,  after 
she  had  had  another  drink, 
she  w'enl  back,  stumbling, 
to  the  bed.  She  caught  her- 
self against  the  footjxjst 
and  I  saw  her  face  and 
"Come  away!"  I  said, 
but  she  would  not. 
At  first,  when  she  began  talking,  I  couldn't 
make  out  the  thick,  muddled  words,  but  then 

"Jim  "  I  heard  plainly.  "Jim!"  I  got 

her  to  her  room,  but  she  hung  back  and 
wouldn't  go  in  till  I'd  turned  the  light  switch. 
Then,  "More ! "  she  cried,  and  waved  toward 
the  lamps,  swaying  and  trembling. 

"Not— by  myself  — you  stay— promise!" 
she  said.  She  had  been  drinking  from  the 
bottle  of  whisky  she  brought  with  her.  I  tried 
to  take  it  and  she  held  on  like  someone  bein^ 
pushed  off  a  clilY.  "Nice  people— so  cruel," 
she  said  and  she  staggered  away  holding  both 
hands  to  her  head.  I  caught  her  before  she 
crashed  into  her  desk.  She  let  me  push  the 
chair  under  her  and  she  leaned  forward 
gently  and  slowly  until  her  head  lay  against 
the  blotter.  I  put  a  blanket  round  her,  and 
then  I  sat  down  in  the  soft,  tufted  chair 
nearby. 

I  must  have  slept  for  several  minutes. 
"Are  you  the  priest?"  the  voice  said,  and  I 
started  awake.  No  one  had  come  into  the 
room.  "Yon."  Mrs.  Heyward's  voice  said, 
and  I  saw  her  eyes  were  open. 

"Mrs.  Finley  .  .  .  sent  you,"  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward said,  and  while  I  wondered  who  or  what 
she  meant,  "I  bet,"  she  said. 

She  made  no  efi"ort  to  move  but  let  her 
face,  all  streaked,  and  w^ith  her  hair  stream- 
ing round  it,  lie  sidewise  on  the  blotter  while 
she  talked.  Her  eyes  were  not  focused,  but 
she  tried  from  time  to  time  to  fix  them  on 
me.  She  said.  "Mrs.  Finley  said— mother- 
less child  mustn't  be  let  grow  a  heathen— 
but  he  held  me  high  up  in  his  arms  and 
he  said  let  the  holy  boys  keep  their 
hands  off  me  and  their  holy  water  off  my 
skirts,  they'd  make  a  nun  of  me,  and  'none 
of  that,'  he  said,  "for  my  Katy!  She'll  be  a 
great  lady.  She'll  dazzle  them  all,  Tim 
Dobey's  daughter,  and  be  a  great  lady  that 
the  likes  of  you  never  saw  the  likes  of!'— 
and  in  the  beer  place— 'Grow  to  be  a 
lady— d'yon  hear?'  he  said,  yelling  to  me  in 
that  place  smelling  and  sounding  hke  tin  — 
her  tin  piano  and  tin  voice  and  tin  hair— 
and  '  You  get  out  of  here ! '  he  said  to  me 
so  I  was  scared.  'Go  buy  a  ribbon!'  he 
said  and  'Wash  yourself!'  and  he  slapped  at 


M'i^ni?/1^tnAt^  l)reakfast  fruit  -  rpady  in 
1Q\\KM^W^\-    ,,„ality's  high-prire  is  low 


Juvl  keep  a  (  an  of  Hunt  s  llcavetily  iVaf  hfs  (  hill- 
iig  in  your  refrigerator.  A  delir  ious,  refreshing 

2  minutes  !  Hunt 


VkinibhOri    '^''"''^^"'^   (iream  I'ie  — jui(\   and  luscious  w 
A/lnliOti^'  ^''^^  Wunl^  HeavenU  Peaches.  Easy  re< 


hen 
recipe 


1  No.  2V.  ran  Hunt's 

Heavenly  Peach  Halves 
1  pkg.  vanilla  pudding 
8-inrh  pie  crust  shell 


HEAVENLY  PEACH  PIE 

Bake  a  pie  crusl  shell  in  an  8-inch  pie  pan.  Prepare  vanilla 
pudding  as  directed  on  package  and  allow  lo  cool.  Drain 
Hunt's  Heavenly  Peaches  and  save  out  several  halves  for 
lop  of  pie.  Cut  the  rest  in  quarters  and  distribute  over 
bottom  of  pastry  shell.  Pniir  pudding  over  them.  .Arrange 
peach  halves  on  lop.  Chill  in  refrigerator.  Before  serving, 
garnish  with  whipped  cream  if  desired. 


Hiinl  Foods.  Inc..  Fullerlon.  Calijornia 


Hunt- 

for  ifie  best 


86 


LADIES 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


When  a  girl  changes  schools, 
what's  a  good  move? 

□  Try  stalking  fhe  stags     Q  Pick  yourself  a  pal 
I   I  Crash  a  clique 

As  "the  new  girl,"  you'll  be  noticed  — but 
don't  expect  a  brass  band  greeting.  (your 
new  classmates  may  be  shy,  too!)  And  best 
you  don't  try  joining  any  clique.  Why  not 
ask  one  gal  to  share  a  Slurp  Special  at  the 
local  fizz  palace?  Bimebye,  you'll  be  buddies. 
Getting  okayed  by  the  ladies  first  — leads  to 
meeting  the  boy-people.  Same  as  the  con- 
fidence you  need,  on  certain  days,  begins 
with  the  comfort  you  get  with  Kotex.  This 
napkin  (so  absotbent!)  has  softness  that 
holds  its  shape.  Made  to  stay  soft  for  hours! 


you 
in  the 
know? 


Which  "look"  is  best  for 
lasses  with  glasses? 

I  I  Uncluttered         Q  Dramatic        Q  Coquette 

If  you've  got  specs  before  your  eyes,  choose 
headgear  becoming  to  your  face  type.  Dodge 
severe  or  frilly-fdly  effects'.  Keep  your  brow 
uncluttered.  A  soft,  simple  hairdo  plus  a 
small  or  medium  brimmed  chapeau  should 
suit  you.  For  a  smooth  look  on  calendar 
days,  let  Kotex  keep  you  outline-free. 
You'll  see  — those  fiat  pressed  ends  prevent 
revealing  outlines! 


Is  this  situation  likely  to  cure  — 

O  Conceit  Q  Borrow-itis  O  Stiyness 

No  bones  broken?  Well,  bully  for  her! 
Though  it's  going  to  break  a  beautiful 
friendship  if  she  can't  replace  Sue's  fancy 
outfit.  Borrowing  finery  is  borrowing  trou- 
ble. Costs  plenty  wampum,  in  case  of  acci- 
dents. Avoid  such  risks.  And  at  trying  times 
choose  Kotex,  with  that  safety  center  (your 
extra  protection!)  In  all  3  absorbencies: 
Regular,  Junior,  Super. 


More  women  choose  KOTEX* 
than  all  other  sanitary  napkins 


Have  you  tried  new  Delsey  toilet  tissue  — now  nicer 
than  ever!  Each  tissue  tears  off  evenly —  no  shredding.  It's 
luxuriously  soft  and  absorbent —  like  Kleenex  tissues.  And 
Delsey's  double-ply  for  extra  strength. 


KOTEX,  DELSEY  AND  KLEENEX  ARE  REGISTERED  TRADE  MARKS   OF  THE  INTERN  AT  lONAL  CELLUCOTTON  PRODUCTS  COMPANY 


my  hands  so  hard  I  ran  out  from  the  beer 
place  where  she  played  the  tin  music  she 
made  up  out  of  her  own  head— Collie  Finley 
said  that  was  what  the  sign  said— Miss  La- 
belle's  Original  Compositions  With  Your  Beer. 
So  I  ran  out.  But  I  bought  the  ribbon  to  tie 
up  my  hair  for  when  he  came  home.  And  I 
didn't  cry  much,  because  he  was  my  own 
father  who  was  beautiful  and  was  proud  even 
of  my  fingernails." 

^Irs.  heyward's  head  wavered  up,  and  it 
wobbled  off  her  hand  as  she  tried  to  lean  on 
one  propped  elbow.  "What  happened?" 
She  turned  her  face  toward  me  with  a  great 
searching  effort.  "Something's  happened," 
she  said  uneasily.  "Tell  me  " 

"Please,"  I  said,  "try  to  be  still.  You 
should  be  quiet  now." 

"Quiet   "  Mrs.  Heyward  repeated. 

"Everything  still  and  quiet,"  she  said,  half 
whispering.  "It  was  so  quiet  I  thought  my 
feet  sounded  loud  going 
up  t'  e  stairs  and  I  had 
mud  on  Collie's  best 
nightgown  and  I  didn't 
care  because  she  was  a 
terrible  liar,  though 
before  she  began  lying 
she  could  go  on  telling 
me  God  was  the  real 
father  — 'God's  the 
father,'  Collie  said  — 
and  I  knew  there  was 
some  connection.  But 
in  her  big  bed  I  had  to 
pray  for  him,  she  said, 
pray  for  his  being  so 
dirty-wicked,  and  'He 
is  too!'  she  said  and 
everybody  knew  I  was 
a  poor  lamb  being 
farmed  out  nights.  So  I 
was  glad  of  the  mud  and 
I  knew  he  was  home  be- 
cause of  the  light." 

Mrs.  Heyward's 
chair  fell  backward  as 
she  pushed  herself  up. 
She  began  shaking,  and 
I  dragged  the  blanket 
up  around  her.  "Mad- 
am," I  begged,  "look 
here!  Look!" 

"On  my  bed!"  she 
said.l  "His  face!  Joined 
to  the  lump— the  heav- 
ing. And  the  tin  hair 
was  there,  mixed  in, 
and  " 

said. 


1 


This  I  Can  Tell  you 


By  Sara  King  Carletun 


"Did  he  .  .  .  say  anything?" 

"He  was  very  tired,"  I  said,  "andwi 
madam,  but  it  was  plain  he  thought  of  yo 
it  was  plain,  madam." 

While  I  poured  more  coffee,  her  eye 
the  wrinkled  concert  program  I'd  put  on 
tray.  She  turned  a  curious  gaze  on  me. 
thought  you'd  want  it,"  I  said,  and  finallj 
stop  the  silence,  "I  hope  it  went 
madam." 

"Robbins,  from  Atlanta,"  Mrs.  Heyn 
said,  "  stayed  on— looking  queer— to  thee 
But  the  Richmond  man  went  out  in 
middle.  And  never  came  back." 

"Just  two  people,"  I  said.  "The  rest, 
town,  they  no  doubt  liked  it." 

"No,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and  I  fej 
that  she  would  not  be  able  to  keep  4 
the  coffee. 

I  drew  her  bath  and  was  leaving  whoi 
told  me  to  get  the  big  envelope  out  of 
desk  and  bring  it  to  her. 

Sol  gave  her  the! 
carbon  copyofMr.H 
ward's  will.  I  thou 
it  might  be  bet 
this  way— it  might 
better  when  she  a 
out,  if  she  had  r 
over  about  the  milli 
of  dollars  that  were 
her  own  now. 


But 


You  ask  me,  "What  is  love? 
who  am  I 

To  answer  it,  no  abler  than  you 
are 

To  draw  a  pattern,  label,  qualify 
And  make  some  general  truth 
particular? 

That  love  survives  its  most 

disastrous  hour — 
This  I  can  tell  you;  that  love 

moves  on  feet 
As  little  and  as  delicate  as  a  flower, 
Has  no  beginning,  never  is 
complete. 


I 


"  she 
-so  he 


"Stop!' 
"Stop!" 

"I   said  so! 
cried.  "'Stop!'- 
wasn't  blind  after  that 
and  jumped  up  and 

'  Yon,'  he  said,  'how  long've  you   '  and 

'sneaking'  he  said,  and  'dirty  little  thing'  he 
said  to  me— so  I  fell  down  because  I  had  no 
way  to  die  or  kill  him  and  made  myself  as 
still  as  the  splinters,  and  "Don't  let  them 
touch  me, '  I  told  the  splinters,  'and  I'll  make 

songs,  and  not  tin  ones — not  tin  ones  ' " 

I  took  tight  hold  of  her,  and  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward—heavy  and  dazed  as  she  was— came 
hurrying  with  me  like  a  child,  and  we  got  to 
the  bathroom  before  she  was  sick. 

Afterward,  though  I  bathed  her  face  and 
slapped  her  hands,  I  couldn't  rouse  her.  It 
took  me  a  while  to  get  her  solid  weight  onto 
the  bed  and  by  the  time  all  was  done  the  light 
of  seven  o'clock  had  paled  the  lamps. 

When  Doctor  Mebane  came,  I  shaved  and 
got  into  a  fresh  coat.  "And  when  are  you 
supposed  to  sleep?"  he  asked. 

He  was  a  little  stooped,  I  noticed,  but  he 
sent  a  stabbing  glance  up  at  me  while  I 
argued  not  to  let  him  in  to  Mrs.  Heyward. 
"After  lunch,  sir,"  I  said,  "and  you  can  see 
her  then.  You  don't  realize,  sir,  how  run- 
down she  is,  and  " 

"I  saw  her  last  night.  Glittering  in  her 
box."  He  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm;  and  then 
he  went  off  to  pace  the  terrace. 

Before  noon  I  had  Mrs.  Heyward  propped 
up.  "  Did  he— was  he  afraid? "  she  said,  and 
tears  sprang  between  her  puffed  eyelids. 
"No,  madam." 


Pride  is  a  lustful  giant;  envy,  small; 
Possession  struts  across  an  open 
stage. 

And  conquest  makes  a  tyrant  of  us 
all. 

But  love  is  loath  to  vaunt,  provoke 
or  rage. 

Love  folds  forgiving  hands,  and 

seemeth  blind, 
And  Is  so  kind,  men  wonder.  Is  so 
kind! 


"You  can  start 
business,"  Ola-N 
said.  "You  can  laj 
stock  and  I'll  h 
you." 

But    I  shook 
head. 

"Well  what,  thei 
asked  Ola-Mae. 

Before  I  finished  t 
ing  her  what  I  wo 
do  her   eyes  loof 
black.   "'Go  up 
down  the  world! 
whole  globe  around 
She  mimicked 
words.  'Haven't 
got  sense  enough 
know  where  you 
long?  You're  noth 
but  a  mountain  boj 
she  told  me. 
"Boy?"  I  said. 
"Baby,"   said  C 
Mae,  "that's  wh 
Kids  run  away .  A  gro 
man  knows  that  to 
in  his  own  home,  a 
work  for  his  own- 
own  self— is  all  th 
is!  What  else  do  ji 
think  your  grand  ft 
Heyward  ever  did 
"I'm  not  like  him,"  I  said. 
"More's  the  pity!"  But  when  I  tookl 
hand,  "Stay  here,"  she  said.  "Taw,  yoi 
get  lost.  You'll  never  come  back." 


Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "Somehow,  Ta 
I  didn't  expect  you  to  act  like  an  ordina 
servant." 

I  pointed  out  I  was  giving  a  whole  montlf 
notice,  but— "No  matter  how  we  put  it,"s 
said,  "the  fact  is,  you  want  to  take  yo 
money  and  get  out.  My  husband  saw  fit  I 
leave  you  five  thousand  dollars,  and  how  h 
you  show  your  gratitude?  Here  when  Ij 
overburdened  you'll  cut  and  run.  How  d'yi 
expect  me— with  this  mountain  of  businej 
—to  make  the  move  to  New  York  all 
myself?" 


'i 


By  yourself,  madam?"  I  said.  "Then 
cook,  and  the  maids,  and  " 

"Don't  be  at  hypocrite.  Taw!  You  knc 
you're  the  brains  of  the  bunch.  See  here"' 
Mrs.  Heyward  stood  up,  smiling— "this 
all  very  elegant,  this  grand  tour  of  yours 
but  how  far  around  the  world  do  you  imagii 
you  can  get  on  five  thousand  dollars?" 

"All  the  way— working,"  I  said.  "Tl 
money  will  be  to  fall  back  on." 

Mrs.  Heyward  shook  her  head  sadl 
"You  ought  to  let  me  invest  it  for  you." 
(Continued  on  Page  89) 


1.   A    I)    I    K    s  •  II 


"Ml        J    <»    II    II    N    \  I 


«7 


t  your  own  mirror  show  you  ..."  sA\b     i  i\  iinley  leeds,  another  lovely  woodbury  dride 


7  Face  Cream  Oils 
now  blended  in 
fewA\^odbuiy  Soap 


Stop  washing  away  your  beauty;  start  using  a 
brand  new  kind  of  complexion  soap ! 

Woodbury  skin  scientists  have  found  a  way  to 
blend  seven  rich  beauty  oils  and  emollients  into 
New  Woodbury  Soap.  These  are  the  same  soften- 
ing ingredients  used  in  expensive  face  creams. 
They're  intended  to  help  replace  your  natural  oils 
. . .  oils  you  need  to  keep  your  skin  smooth  and 
young-looking  . .  .  oils  you  wash  down  the  drain 
with  ordinary  soap-and-water  care. 

There  are  more  wonderful  changes  in  New  \^'ood- 
bury:  New  luxurious  lather  —  richer,  creamier, 


more  velvety!  Netu  enchanting  color  —  a  refresh- 
ing Sea-Spray  green !  New  Bridal-Flower  fragrance 
—  a  delicate,  haunting  floral  scent ! 

Get  New  \^  oodbury  Soap  in  its  new  blue  and  white 
wrapper,  with  the  lovely  lady  and  the  mirror.  Let 
your  own  mirror  show  you  the  cleanest,  most 
radiant  complexion  of  your  life! 

jjoX  ll(£  sfci  cjou  ^Ot-io  imck  !* 


LADIES'       H    O    M    r',       ,1    O    II    R    N    A  L 


March. 


Sometimes  in  a  storage  warehouse  you'll  find 

DREAMS  FOR  SALE 


JACK  REED  sat  down  at  the  desk  in  the  room  he 
called  his  study,  but  which  Nora  called  her 
sewing  room  and  the  children  called  their  TV  room. 
He  looked  at  the  telephone  for  a  moment  and  then 
picked  up  the  directory  and  began  thumbing 
through  it. 

There  were  some  notes  on  his  other  desk  down 
at  the  office  which  had  been  sitting  there  for  days. 
"Please  call  Mr.  Williams,"  one  of  them  said. 
"Mr.  WiUiams  phoned  again  while  you  were  out," 
said  another. 

He  hadn't  called  Bob  Williams  because — well,  it 
hadn't  seemed  exactly  urgent  at  the  time.  And  he 
probably  wouldn't  be  bothering  about  it  now,  either, 
except  that  earlier  that  evening  he  and  Nora  had 
gone  to  the  inspection  down  at  Drexel's  Storage 
Warehouse.  They  had  heard  that  there  were  some 
fine  old  clocks  among  the  pieces  to  be  auctioned  off 
the  next  day,  and  Nora  was  anxious  to  see  them. 

Old  Mr.  Drexel  himself  had  met  them  and  shown 
them  around.  Lined  up  along  the  walls  of  the  big, 
cold-looking  room  were  some  really  fine  things: 
furniture  and  lamps  and  clocks  and  china  that  had 
once  belonged  to  someone,  somewhere,  who  had 


shown  excellent  taste  in  their  selection.  Nora  turned 
to  Mr.  Drexel  and  said,  "Why  are  all  those  lovely 
things  being  sold?" 

Mr.  Drexel  shrugged.  "To  pay  the  back  storage 
on  them.  Those  things  have  been  here  for  many 
years.  Belonged  to  a  woman  who  used  to  live  in 
town.  She  broke  up  her  home  after  her  husband 
died  and  left  all  the  stuff  here.  She  and  the  kids 
went  back  to  her  old  home  town.  She  was  going  to 
send  for  it  real  soon,  she  said.  But  I  guess  she  just 
never  got  enough  money  to  spare." 

Mr.  Drexel  looked  up  at  the  ceiling  for  a  few 
seconds  and  then  said,  "The  bins  and  vaults  up- 
stairs are  full  of  things  like  that.  Busted  hopes  and 
broken  dreams  ..."  He  shrugged  again  as  they 
started  towards  the  door.  "You  get  used  to  it  after 
a  while  .  .  ." 

Jack  hadn't  been  able  to  get  that  conversation 
out  of  his  mind.  He  turned  in  his  chair  so  he  could 
look  from  the  study  into  the  living  room.  Nora 
was  curled  in  her  favorite  chair,  surrounded  by 
her  own  favorite  things.  The  hands  on  the  b.g  old 
grandfather's  clock  said  it  was  not  quite  ten  o'clock. 
He  picked  up  the  phone  and  as  he  dialed  Bob 


Williams'  number  he  mapped  out  what  he  woi'l 
say: 

"Hi,  Bob!  Sorry  I  didn't  get  around  to  calli' 
you  sooner,  but  I've  been  mighty  busy  lately.  Y|i 
know  how  it  is.  Anyway,  I've  been  turning  ti  t 
recommendation  of  yours  over  in  my  mind — y  l 
know,  about  taking  out  another  New  York  L  s 
policy — and  I've  decided  that  it  might  be  a  go  i 
idea  after  all.  How  about  having  lunch  tomorr<  i 
and  talking  the  whole  thing  over?" 

NEW  YORK  LIFE  INSURANCE  COMPA> 

51  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  10,  N,  Y.  , 


THE  NEW  YORK  iicc 

'"""^  t'FE  AGENT 
;  'N  YOUR  COMMUNITY 

I  ^  GOOD  MAN  TO  KNOW 


Naturally,  names  used  in  this  story  are  fictitu 


The  absent  are  never  with- 
out fault,  nor  the  present 
without  excuse. 

—  BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN 


(Continued  front  PiiKf  fl6) 
If  silvinK  the  money  had  been  the  main 
iiHK  Willi  nie  ttien,  Ihere'd  have  been  no 
nument.  Mr.  Heyvvard  i<new  money  brains 
hen  he  «iw  tliem.  and  excejil  for  a  few 
•(liiests  hke  mine  lie'd  left  his  whole  fortune 
1  Mrs.    I  ley  ward's  control.  EverylhinK 
/as  hers  to  use  as  she  saw  lit  for  her  lifetime 
K;fore  the  estate  passed  to  Chloe. 

"Madam,"  I  s;iid.  "I  can  see  you  through 
lackinn    if  you  think  you  must  no." 

•T/iiw/t.'"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "Of  course 
ve  must  ^^lii'  turned  away  to  stare 

lul  the  window.  "There's  nothinu  here  for 
;hl<K'.  If  they  think  I  '11  waste  her  beauty  and 
•ducationon  the  insular  bi^otsof  a  mill  town 
hey'll  have  to  think  a^'ain.  Don't  they 
cali/e  my  child  could  urace  a  throne?" 
I?t  fore  I  could  open  my  mouth  "Chloe 
^peak  three  hinnuanes  and  ride  to 
ids,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "And  she's  an 
iRiRSS.  We'll  start  with  New  York  and  goon 
from  there." 

When  it  came  round  to  the  directors' 
ineelinK  about  who  should  now  be  president 
of  the  mills  downtown,  and  the  choice  lay 
tx'twcen  Mr.  Johnson  and  Mr.  U)uis  Hawks- 
woriii,  I  half  expected  that  Mrs,  Heyward 
would  see  her  man  in— her  Northern  adver- 
tisinj;-type  Mr.  Johnson.  But  s;itisfaclion 
sucii  as  this  was  denied  Mrs.  Heyward  by  her 
nature.  Johnson  was  less  able  than  Mr. 
Hawksworlh  -and  Mrs.  Heyward  could 
no  more  hire  a  man  who  mi|,'ht  tx)^  up  her 
profits  than  Michelangelo  could  have  mud- 
died the  spaces  on  his  Sisline  ceiling. 

"Taw,"  Mrs.  Heyvvard  said,  "come  to 
New  York  and  settle  me  and  I'll  make  you  a 
little  extra  bonus.  Anyway,"  she  went  on. 
"it  isn't  convenient,  five 
thousand  dollars  right  now. 
By  law  you'd  have  to  wait 
a  year,  till  the  estate's 
settled." 

I  started  to  say  never 
mind,  she  could  mail  me 
my  fortune.  I  had  a  bit 
saved  up,  enough  to  set  out 
.viih.  I  was  thinking,  but 
ihen  Mrs.  Heyward  said, 
"  I've  made  my  plan  and  nothing  can  stop  me," 
and  it  came  to  me  that  I'd  best  get  hold  of  as 
much  money  as  I  could. 

"We  can  make  it  by  April."  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward said,  and  I  thought.  Well,  April— all 
right,  April.  I  would  still  have  time  to  get  to 
Italy  and  up  to  that  blue  lake  where  Miss 
Nixon's  young  ladies  went  for  the  summer. 
I  could  get  there  before  July  when  Chloe 
started  traveling.  I  would  find  a  right  way 
of  saying  I  had  this  money  now,  and  what 
it  was  for.  I  would  rest  my  tone  partly  back 
3n  the  time  when  we'd  thought  nothing  of  my 
carrying  her  on  my  shoulder  and  partly 
forward  on  the  time  when  I  would  be  tasting 
the  whole  world  as  I  chose.  I  would  make 
It  plain  that  when  the  need  came  to  her  she 
:ould  send  for  the  money— or  me— or  both. 

It  was  late  in  April  when  I  drove  Mrs. 
Heyward's  Daimler  into  the  catacomb  ga- 
rage down  under  a  place  called  Park  Avenue 
Powers.  Up  in  Mrs.  Heyward's  fish-bowl 
aenthouse  I  could  hear  New  York.  I  un- 
Dacked  and  ate  and  even  slept  hearing  that 
grumbling  sound.  It  matched  what  I  could  see 
■vhen  I  had  time  to  look  out:  those  sudden 
stone  fingers  thrusting  nearly  as  high  as  the 
3ne  that  held  us  up  into  blazing  space,  and— 
It  night— the  ov^powering  jewels,  the 
•ings  and  strings  of  diamond  lights. 

Mrs.  Heyward  wanted  her  own  furnishings. 
'Ml  the  stuff  from  Sloane's  had  been  shoved 
n  with  the  load  of  linen  and  the  china 
carrels  and  trunks  from  Heyward.  It  took 
Tie  a  week  to  get  the  place  in  order. 

The  curtains  were  yet  to  be  hung  that 
norning  when  Mrs.  Heyvvard  said,  "It 
seems  this  Junior  Cotillion  thing  is  not  so 
simple.  I  think  they'd  better  see  Chloe." 

When  I  said  Chloe's  reservation  home 
■vas  for  September  fifteenth— "Too  late," 
VIrs.  Heyward  said.  "I'll  fetch  her  now. 
raw— don't  just  stand  there!" 

And  the  next  day  she  was  gone  on  the 
i^ulcania,  owing  me  a  month's  wages. 

The  Marconigram  w-as  from  the  steamship 
Roma: 


IX)CK  TUESIMV  SKJI-  ADVISK  TAI'I'K  C  Ill.Oh 
mu.  \miVlW.  SIJMMKK  WAMDMOHE  IIM- 
MEI>IAI  i;i.Y  ST(J|' 

said  Mrs.  Heyward.  And  then. 

HK  PKKI'AHKl)  (iO  M()T(j|<  l  UII'  ' 

N(nicK  sioi-  (,|..|  NKw  l.lvl■;l<^ 

<;i<AY  Al.TMANS  IM)N  T  i;c:( )N()MI/I 

The  hotel  maids  did  a  k<»o(1  job  of  cleanuiK 
and  I  soon  had  provisions  laid  in  and  all  the 
silver  polished.  Hut  when  evervthiiiK  was 
ready  I  kept  standing  around  the  Iiviiik  room 
wondering  what  could  hL-  done  to  make  it  a 
good  place  to  come  to  with  Mrs.  Heyward. 
I  ought  to  have  known  this  big  cubt-  wallitl 
with  onyx  and  smoked  mirror  and  full  of 
dark  velvet  and  oyster  salin  upholstery  had 
me  licked  from  the  start.  ()n  the  et)ony  piano 
there  were  arrangements  of  chalky  coriil 
branch  and  long  sprays  of  dried  and  gilded 
grass.  They  l(X)ked  so  lilting  these  piled-np 
skeletons  of  sea  creatures  spikwl  with  em- 
balmed vegetation.  Hut  when  1  went  to  the 
florist's  I  was  thinking  of  Chlw,  so  1  bought 
pale  pink  roses  and  daisies.  I  fixed  half  of 
these  in  Chl(x;'s  nyom.  which  l<K)ked  like  a 
vortex.  In  there  a  heavy  whirl  of  watered 
silks  and  mother-of-jxarl  decorations  seemed 
always  about  to  swallow  down  Chlw's 
slender  bed.  It  was  hard  to  tell  which 
place— this,  or  the  living  rcxjin  turned  the 
llowers  most  ix-aked.  It  took  a  while  for 
Chloe  to  find  them. 

"W'elcome  home,  darling!"  cried  Mrs. 
Heyward  as  Chloe  followed  her  through  the 
door.  "Here  it  is-your  castle  in  the  air. 
Soon  as  I've  telephoned  I'll  be  with  you!" 

I  followed  Chloe  to  the  living  room.  I 
wanted  to  get  over  the  queer  pinch  of  anger 
I'd  felt  on  the  dock.  But 
Chloe  just  wandered  over 
the  room  as  if  she  were 
alone,  and  then  I  couldn't 
wonder  that  the  sight  of 
anything  as  beautiful  as 
she  was  in  her  thin  cape' 
and  little  w  inged  hat  could 
vex  a  man. 

I  was  about  to  go  out 
when  she  bent  down  sud- 
denly and  I  saw  the  frail  rose  cupped  in 
her  hand.  "Ah,  the  poor  things,"  Chloe  said. 

I  was  caught  on  the  doorsill,  seeing  the 
human,  persecuted  look  the  flowers  had. 
"What  they  ought  to  be,"  I  said,  "is  some 
of  those  long-necked  orange  things,  those 
angry,  bird-headed  flowers.  Or  maybe  lilies." 

"Made  of  wax,"  said  Chloe,  "for  the 
Royal  Mausoleum." 

Just  then  Mrs.  Heyward  came  dashing  in, 
crying,  "DarUng — isn't  it  fabulous?"  Chloe 
hesitated  and  her  mother  looked  at  me  re- 
proachfully. "Maybe  Taw  doesn't  like  it.  He 
doesn't  understand  it." 

"Mummy,"  Chloe  said,  "he  does." 
"Well,  it's  yours."  declared  her  mother. 
"Isn't  it  handsome?"  And  Chloe  agreed, 
gravely,  that  it  was. 

I  told  myself  nobody  could  deny  this  fact. 
But  Chloe's  words,  accepting  it,  jangled  my 
nerves.  I  began  to  feel  resentful  again,  the 
way  I  had  on  the  dock. 

At  first,  that  morning,  I'd  had  no  idea  of 
what  was  wrong.  I  only  knew  that  seeing 
Chloe  upset  me.  I  kept  looking  at  this  fair, 
fresh  girl  attending  her  mother  amidst  the 
hubbub  of  landing.  To  every  command  or 
question  from  her  energetic  mother  (whose 
breath  announced  she'd  had  an  early  nip) 
this  lovely  creature  answered  nimbly.  I 
watched  her  deliver  the  perfect  word  or 
glance  of  witty  and  innocent  flirtation  to 
each  of  those  rich-looking  middle-aged  or 
elderly  men  who  sought  her  out  with  her 
mother  to  say  good-by.  Suddenly  I  realized 
that  here  was  nothing  but  somebody's 
trumped-up  idea  of  Chloe.  This  flesh-and- 
blood  reflection  of  a  dream-idea  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  person  who  once  lifted  her  thin 
small  arms  to  stop  a  bulldozer.  Even  when 
we  shook  hands— and  my  own  bones  told  me 
how  bone-true  this  girl's  friendly  greeting 
was— I  couldn't  take  comfort.  And  I  saw 
us  standing  there.  Fitting  into  the  picture. 
The  golden  darling  and  the  perfect  servant. 

Mrs.  Heyvvard  was  pleased  with  the  cold 
chicken  I  had  ready  for  lunch  and  she  was 

(Continued  on  Page  91} 


11^ 

Look  Out . . .        .  *i  "  for  Colds  and  Sore  Throat! 


GAitci.i!  I  isit'liiic  Aiiiiv  us  vxm 
as  you  cm.  i'riiiii[)(  ^criii  kiilinjj 
action  i;m  often  head  off  truubic  ur  Ic&m.-i) 
its  st  verity. 

VVIu-n  y«)u'rf  overheatetl  am!  j»n  out 
into  tile  cold  nij^lii  air.  you  may  be  let 
tinj;  yourself  in  for  a  trouhlesonic  told,  a 
nasty  v)rc  thrown  diu-  to  a  cold  , .  or  worse. 

(icrms  Invade  TLsmjc 

You  see,  f.iii^ue  and  sudden  changes  of 
tem|)fralure  may  often  lower  b<xry  rc 
sistance.  I  hen  |i<i(entiallv  troublesome 
germs  called  the  "st-tonclarj-  invaders" 
can  staj;e  a  mass  invasion  of  the  tissue. 
1  hey  can  si  f  up  an  infection,  or  aggravate 
one  that  is  already  started. 

1  hen,  if  ever,  Nature  can  use  a  help- 
ing hand  to  go  after  such  threatening 
germs  ...  to  nelp  guard  against  such  a 
mass  invasion  ...  to  help  head  off  a  cold 
before  it  gets  entrenched.  That  is  why, 
when  you  get  home,  it  is  wise  to  gargle 


lull 


gill  Liacrine  Aniiteptic 


AltaikH  "Sr^iindiir)  ln»sidt-r«" 


iiukIi  uI  a  Uiid'k  mitcry. 

Actual  t.   •    '  '  ,. 

ListerineA 
un  mouth  :iii>l  i 

fifteen  . 
and  up  to  80%  one  lioui  aliei 

Alwayn  at  the  Flr%t  SnIflU. 

Whenever  you  have  sniHlrs  vHjr  thront 
is  raw  bi-tause  of  an  '  ■  .,r 

you  feel  chilly  or  n 
I.isterine  Aniiv  : 
spare  yourself  ;i 

Lamlx;rt  Pharmacal  Company  Division 
of  I  he  Lambert  Company,  St.  Louh,  Mo. 


GARGLE 


Listerine  Antiseptic 


QUICK! 


to  kill  germs  like  these 


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Train  up  a  child  in  the  way 
he  should  go,  and  walk 
there  yourself,  once  in  a 

while.  —JOSH  BILLINGS 


H  (iHliiiiii'il  IniiH  1'iin.i-  K'JI 

;  to  be  served  in  the  liviiiK  room.  "Since 
•it  us,"  slie  said,  and  siie  he^an  lellinn 

about  the  dinners  tliey  would  ^;ive. 
)  we  know  |)eoi)le?"  Chloe  asked, 
■fore    lonu,"    said    Mrs.    Hey  ward, 
'11  be  breaking  their  hearts  to  Kt't  in 
'\nd  we  shall  pick  and  ch(M)se,  iny  dar- 
)ick  and  choose!  There's  a  waiting  list 

C'olonial  C  lub  but  Cirile  Addison's 
to  see  to  my  leltt'rs.  And  meantime  she 
lend  to  the  .lunior  Leanue  for  you,  and 
inior  Cotillion,  and  she  can  -  " 
aybe  lind  timi'  to  eat  and  sleep,"  said 
.  smiling;. 

her  motiier.  who'd  been  looking  so 
lidn't  smile.  "Cecile's  husi)and,"  said 
Jeyward,  "nets  thirty  thousand  a  year 
[ininn  our  New  ^'ork  ollice."  She  be^an 
in^  iuT  list  of  things  tiiey  would  need 
litini;  liie  Addisons  in  Southampton. 

EN  1  brought  on  the  fruit  compote, 
',  yes,"  Mrs.  Ileyward  was  saying, 
'd  be  u'illinn  to  have  us  later." 
len  please,"  Chloe  said,  "  let 's  ^o  later." 
jby  open  your  inind.  There's  Newport 
,enox  and  Bar  llarlxjr  all  to  be  done 

fall.  We'll  .no  to  Cecile  and  Jerry  — 

now  everybody    tiotv.  and  then  " 

unimy,"  Chloe  said,  "just  a  few  days, 
need  a  little  wiiile." 
by?  WliyP"  said  her  mother, 
was  so  far  away,"  Chloe  said,  "and 
was  nolhin^f— just  writing  on  paper, 
ice,  no  hand.  Mine,  or  his  or  anybody's, 
he'd  just  vanished 
smoke  on  purpose, 

I  didn't  look — on 
se." 

!.  Heyward  laid  hold 
:  table.  "I  swear  I 
birth  to  a  normal 
and  now— -what  are 
ilkioK  about?" 
addy.  Heyward," 

said.  "Before— ^be- 
11  this  other  ...  I  have  to  go  back." 
it  Chloe,  he's  ^one!  It's  no  use!" 

won't  take  long."  Chloe  said.  "I'm 

hat  are  you  thinking?"  cried  Mrs. 
ard.  "You  talk  as  if  you  could — could 

t  there — with  a  shovel  " 

want  to  see  his  friends.  I  want  to  see 
ear  them.  Then  I'll  come  right  back." 
5.  Heyward  lit  a  cigarette.  With  her 
s  down  she  looked  calm  again.  "There'll 
ight  time  to  go,"  she  said,  "and  then 
ill.  But  not  now.  The  house  is  closed." 
could  stay  with  the  Mebanes,"  Chloe 

>ted.  "Peter  always  told  me  " 

1—now  we  come  to  it.  I  begin  to  seethe 
'  said  Chloe's  mother,  and  Chloe 's 
ifted  in  a  surprised,  unguarded  glance, 
lis  itch  to  go  South,"  Mrs.  Heyward 
"just  get  over  it.  What  you  want  is  to 
iter.  Would  you  go  running  to  Chapel 

aybe  Doctor  Mebane  would  drive  us 
They're  having  exams,"  Chloe  said, 
maybe  Peter  couldn't  leave  there." 
s'd  find  a  way  to— ij  it  suited  him," 
VIrs.  Heyward.  "Men  go  after  what 
vant.  Never  be  one  of  those  tragic  fools 
)retend  otherwise." 

oe  was  quiet  and  stiff  as  the  chair  that 
her.  I  got  out.  But  Mrs.  Heyward's 
carried  into  the  kitchen.  "Why  chase 
a  boy  who's  grown  indifferent?"  she 
.  "You  haven't  heard  from  him  since 
r.  You  wrote  him  you  were  coming, 
do  I  hear  him  on  the  phone?  Do  I 
see  a  letter?" 

loe  must  have  answered,  because,  "I 
:an't  sit  here,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said, 
listen  to  you  make  these  pitiful  ex- 
!  How  can  you  moon  over  that  pip- 
k  when  you  could  face  forward  and 
the  world  at  your  feet?  Taw!"  Mrs. 
'ard  raised  her  voice.  "Your  new  livery; 
it  here,  will  you?" 

len  I  opened  the  door  I  saw  Chloe  stand- 
here,  holding  out  the  string  of  pearls 
her  throat,  turning  them  slowly,  look- 
t  them. 

ist  let  those  alone,"  Mrs.  Heyward 
"What  would  you  say  on  Alice's  door- 


step? 'Take  me  in  Im cause  I've  sold  my  neck- 
lace to  get  to  your  iitlle  l)oy'?" 

Chloe  claH|H'd  her  hands  iH-hind  her  back. 
She  had  a  tall,  thin  l(K)k,  and  her  mouth 
curved  as  if  she,  Uh).  could  see  a  joke.  "And 
you,"  she  asked  her  mother,  "will  you  lock 
me  up?" 

"Well,   darling,"   Mrs.   Heyward  s;iid, 
smiling,  "that's  meliKlratnalic.  But  you  can 
deiH'iul  on  this.  I'll  do  anything  I  have  to 
anything,  any  time    to  keep  you  from  mak- 
ing a  f(«)l  of  yourself." 

Mrs.  Ileyward  seemed  surprised  I  hadn't 
bought  the  livery  and  when  I  explained  the 
reastni  that  it  might  not  (it  the  next  chauf- 
feur she  threw  up  her  hands.  Surely,  she  de- 
clared, 1  wasn't  still  hanging  to  that  incon- 
siderate, foolhardy  plan  of  mine. 

That  night  I  put  a  coal  of  wax  on  the 
kitchen  linoleum.  I  was  Ixnind  I'd  leave 
everything  in  bang-up  shape.  I  wanted  no 
trouble  about  collecting  the  back  pay  that 
was  owed  me. 

I  was  finishing  the  last  patch  under  the 
stove  when  Chloe  came,  half  (U)ating  it 
seemed,  because  of  all  the  ckjudy  thin  stuff  of 
her  house  robe. 

I  scrambled  to  my  feel,  but  when  I  raised 
my  eyes  liie  blue  ones  I  looked  for  were 
hidden,  white-lidded,  in  a  face  all  shadowed 
with  pale,  down-dripping  hair.  And  I  thought. 
No  nhosl  has  a  rif,lit  to  smell  like  /)lilox.  Then 
I  noticed  how  the  salin-slippered  feet  were 
set  down  the  way  I  first  saw  them  years 
ago  -a  mite  pigeon-toed,  dogged  and  lone- 
some—and when  my  mouth  opened  what  I 
said  was.  "  If  you  want  to 
go— I'll  drive  you.  I'll  get 
you  to  Heyward." 

So  the  dim  face  came  up, 
turning  alive  until  it 
beamed  out   naked  and 
lovely,  and  I  knew  it  per- 
fectly. I  fished  the  keys  to 
the  Daimler  out  of  my 
I^ocket.    "Just  get  your 
things  together,"  I  said. 
Chloe's  breath  made  a  soft  sound  and  the 
two  of  us  stood  gazing,  right  on  the  ed.ge  of 
laughing  out  loud. 

Until  Chloe  sighed  and  shook  her  head. 
"You'd  be  arrested.  For  stealing  a  car.  And 
I'd  be  this  dear,  queerheaded  girl  who  was 
trying  to  shield  you." 

I  told  her  Judge  Parsons  would  never  be- 
lieve that. 

"But  mummy  could  believe  it,"  she  said. 
"And  we'd  never  get  to  Heyward.  There'd 
be  police— to  bring  us  back." 

I  WANTED  to  risk  it,  but,  "I  can't,"  said 
Chloe.  "Suppose  they  put  you  in  prison?" 
Her  color  drained  away.  "Today  you  said 
you  were  leaving.  And  Taw— that's  right." 

"Why?"  I  asked  her,  but  instead  of  an- 
swering she  tugged  the  paper  off  the  parcel 
she  had.  "  I  brought  you  a  present,"  she  said, 
and  she  laid  it  in  my  hand,  the  beautiful  little 
book  with  two  gold  words,  Fra  Angelico,  on 
the  cover.  Inside  were  those  pictures  with 
all  their  clear  parts  and  sweet  colorings  being 
always  gathered  to  a  center,  the  way  a  tune 
will  settle  to  a  chord.  These  were  color  plates 
of  paintings  that  told  it  out  carefully  about 
God's  mother  and  her  Son,  so  there  could  be  no 
doubt— no  blinking  at  the  painter's  human- 
bodied  angels  or  the  certainty  of  heaven. 

"In  Florence,"  Chloe  said,  "I  was  beset 
with  wishing  you  could  see  the  pictures. 
Then  one  day  I  knew  why.  I  was  in  the 
Ufhzi— and  suddenly  I  felt  I  knew  you  better 
than  I  had  at  home.  And  it  was  because  of 
the  painters.  Your  way  of  seeing  things— of 
knowing  them— was  the  painters'  way.  And 
that  was  what  you  were  like.  Like  them." 

The  look  on  my  face  made  her  smile.  So  I 
told  her,  if  I  was  like  she  said.  I'd  have  been 
making  pictures  long  ago. 

"Maybe  not,"  Chloe  said,  "not  here."  The 
book  was  still  open.  "That  one,"  said  Chloe, 
pointing  to  an  angel,  "she  looks  like  the  one 
who  helped  us  get  Nasty's  presents."  I  w^as 
startled,  and  Chloe  laughed.  "Your  own 
girl,"  she  said.  And  I  looked,  and  there  was 
Ola-Mae— who'd  tell  you  herself  she  wasn't 
even  good-looking— there  she  was  in  a  pink 
robe,  being  beautiful  by  the  way  she  was  fixed 
into  the  picture.  "Are  you-all  going  to  get 


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married?"  Chloe  asked.  "Over  there— I 
thought  of  that  too.  All  the  time  you  stayed 
to  help  us,  and  take  care  of  daddy,  none  of  us 
thought  of  you  clearly — and  you  were  in  love." 

I  kept  my  head  down.  I  knew  if  I  looked 
up  she  would  see  how  true  her  words  were. 
And  she  would  know,  as  I  did  now,  what 
woman  it  was  that  I  loved. 

I  said,  "That  old  city  over  there— it  must 
have  laid  a  spell  on  you.  First  you  fix  it  up 
that  I'm  a  painter— and  the  next  thing  I 
hear,  I'm  a  bridegroom!" 

"And  why  not?"  asked  Chloe.  "Why 
mightn't  you  be  both?" 

"'Cause  I'm  neither." 

"Taw,"  she  said,  "wherever  you're  going, 
could  you  let  me  know  where?  I  mean— some 
address.  Please  don't  get  where  I  couldn't — 
I  mean — where  you  couldn't  get  out." 

I  was  looking  at  her  clasped-together 
hands.  "I'll  tell  you.  Miss  Chloe,"  I  said. 
"I  had  this  trip  in  mind— but  now  I've  been 
figuring  things— and  I  see  the  trip  wouldn't 
be  like  I  first  thought  it  would.  So  I  plan  to 
tell  you.  mother.  I'd  like  to  stay  awhile." 

By  the  spring  of  '29  Mrs.  Heyward  said  if 
I  didn't  see  a  doctor  she'd  bring  one  in  her- 
self "It's  depressing!"  she  said.  "Look  at 
your  coat.  Even  your  collar.  Hanging  off!" 

"Is  it  money?"  the  doctor  asked.  I  was 
taken  aback. 

I  was  well  off,  I  could  have  told  him.  Mrs. 
Heyward  still  managed  to  run  a  long  way  be- 
hind with  my  wages  in  the  notion  that  this 
would  keep  me  working  for  her,  but  when  the 
estate  was  settled  she'd  had  to  pay  up  the 
five  thousand. 

"Let's  see."  said  the  doctor.  "One  lung's 
pretty  much  of  a  relic.  But  if  you're  careful 
what  you've  got  left  should 
serve  you  well  enough  in 
a  job  as  soft  as  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward tells  me  yours  is. 
Heart,  et  cetera — O.K.  No 
bugs.  Perfect  reflex.  And 
I  don't  suppose  I'm  en- 
tilled  to  any  more  guesses 
about  what  pulls  the  flesh 
off  your  bones." 

He  must  have  told  Mrs.  Heyward  I 
needed  a  change.  Whatever  he  said,  Mrs. 
Heyward  agreed,  suddenly,  to  having  Chloe 
go  down  to  the  Commencement  at  Chapel 
Hill.  She  said  we'd  take  the  new  Rolls  and 
go  by  Heyward  first  and  stay  at  the  new 
hotel  there,  and  being  in  the  fresh  air  would 
make  a  new  man  of  me. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  business— some 
trend  at  the  mills— weighed  on  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward's  mind  and  drew  her  to  Heyward.  But 
there  were  also  matters  in  New  York  that 
deepened  the  creases  which  ran  down  from 
the  sides  of  her  nose  to  her  thinning  mouth 
and  made  her  glad  to  get  away  for  a  while. 
Mrs.  Johnson  would  give  a  big  luncheon  for 
her  at  the  Heyward  Country  Club.  And  Mrs. 
Johnson  would  have  got  over  to  everybody 
all  those  facts  from  the  newspaper  clippings 
Mrs.  Heyward  had  sent  her,  about  Chloe's 
debut,  and  the  dresses  and  jewels  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward wore  in  her  box  at  the  opera.  There  was 
no  way  to  tell  from  the  clippings  that  the 
opera  box  was  makeshift  to  the  chance  of 
showing  ofl'  clothes  and  jewels  in  some  other 
New  York  places— in  homes— which  Mrs. 
Heyward  would  have  chosen.  A  hotel  debut 
with  a  sprinkling  of  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances—and all  other  guests  supplied  by  Miss 
Boxhall,  who  earned  her  living  giving 
parties— such  a  debut  could  sound  very 
stylish  in  print.  The  Rainses  were  in  Europe. 
And  Mrs.  Mebane  was  visiting  her  professor- 
cousin's  family  in  Chapel  Hill.  Heyward  by 
and  large  would  never  even  have  heard  of 
the  Junior  Cotillion  or  the  Colonial  Club. 

I^Mrs.  heyward  was  pleased  with  Chloe's 
part  in  the  doings  of  the  bygone  year.  Some- 
times I  wondered  how  Chloe  seemed  to  peo- 
ple who  were  meeting  her  then  for  the  first 
time.  Natural,  perhaps.  And  gay  and  for- 
tunate. Certainly  she  was  a  "belle"  at  any 
party  she  yvent  to,  as  Mrs.  Heyward  always 
remarked  to  everybody.  Almost  from  the 
outset  I'd  started  lying  awake  to  wonder  if 
the  next  day  might  not  bring  some  happen- 
ing that  would  crack  off  the  outer  shape 


iloe  Iknet! 


When  children  laugh  they 
praise  the  Lord. 

—VICTOR  HUGO 


which  now  continually  hid  the  Chloe  I  knei 
and  remembered.  In  the  autumn  when  slii 
wanted  to  teach  French  at  a  settleirien 
house  and  take  courses  at  Columbia— botl 
of  which  might  interfere  with  her  going  t,  I 
lunches  and  meeting  the  other  debutantes- 
she  gave  up  with  scarcely  a  murmur.  Al 
Christmastime  I  thought  sorrow  and  dij 
appointment  must  bring  her  out.  But  whet 
IDoctor  Mebane  died,  and  Peter  couldn'l 
come  up  to  see  us  as  his  letters  had  said  he 
would,  she  was  only  silent.  Just  quiet, 
for  a  few  days.  I  turned  from  discouragemaii 
to  anger  till  I  was  almost  ready  to  forgive 
the  portrait  painter  who  had  emptied  Chloe's 
face  as  he  made  a  dazzling  star-eyed  version 
of  it  to  hang  up  beside  his  dazzling  star- 
eyed  version  of  Mrs.  Heyward. 

For  a  while  I  took  heart  at  the  great  num- 
bers of  college  boys  and  young  men  who 
came  to  our  Sunday  "at-homes."  But  the 
ones  who  had  more  to  give  than  simple 
desire  or  flattery  soon  found  themselves  the 
butt  of  Mrs.  Heyward's  little  jokes.  Or  they 
began  to  hear  that  it  was  being  said  they^ 
drank  too  much,  or  were  rounders.  By  spring- 
time any  young  men  who  were  impatient  of 
seeing  Chloe  only  in  a  crowd  were  pretty 
well  weeded  out.  If  Chloe  shared  my  opinion 
of  what  was  left,  she  never  showed  it. 

I  might  as  well  have  been  behind  bars 
somewhere,  I  figured.  Or  I  might  as  well  have 
crossed  the  world  to  China  for  all  the  use  I 
was  to  Chloe.  Who  could  hold  out  his  hand, 
I  asked  myself,  to  someone  who  seemed  past 
needing  anything? 

I'd  have  escaped— anyway,  been  gone— 
except  for  those  times  when  Chloe  sang  and 
played  the  piano.  Even  Mrs.  Heyward  saw 
how  Chloe's  music  im- 
proved her  parties,  and 
she  would  tell  Chloe  to  get 
to  the  piano.  After  the  ben- 
efit concert  in  Heyward, 
at  the  time  Mrs.  Heyward 
was  in  mourning,  she  had 
locked  the  stacked  sheets  of 
all  her  compositions  into  a 
flat  black  trunk.  She  never 
unlocked  it  that  I  know  of.  Nor  wrote  another 
bar  of  music.  At  our  parties  she  declined 
to  sing  when  she  was  asked.  Chloe  never 
urged  her,  for  Chloe  had  heard,  one  autumn 
afternoon,  how  her  mother's  voice  splintered 
against  a  high  note  and  how  even  the  middle 
tones  had  lost  their  quality  to  alcohol. 
Chloe's  voice  was  scarcely  big  enough  for  our 
living  room.  But  when  its  plain  sweet  sound 
came  into  the  air  Chloe  would  suddenly  be 
there  as  whole  and  alive  as  in  any  of  the  best 
hours  I  could  remember.  What  the  listeners 
at  our  parties  could  hear  was  sometimes 
Chopin  and  sometimes  Irving  Berlin  and 
always  Chloe  Heyward,  and  I  thought  more 
than  one  of  them  would  wake  before  daylight 
to  remember  the  last  minute  before  the  last 
faint  pinfall  of  music  was  gone. 

At  the  end  of  May  there  turned  up  not 
only  a  Russian  prince,  but  also  an  English 
baronet  and  I  wondered  if  we'd  make  it  to 
Chapel  Hill  after  all.  It  was  soon  plain, 
though,  that  both  men  were  actually  falling 
in  love  with  Chloe.  And  both  were  the  kind 
that  could  be  set  aside  for  future  use.  Early 
in  June,  we  set  out  south  in  the  Rolls. 

I  had  taught  Chloe  to  drive  and  her 
mother  was  willing  for  her  to  ride  up  front  with 
me  and  take  my  place  at  the  wheel  whenever 
she  liked.  The  thin  wall  behind  us,  the  glass 
partition,  and  the  sunlight  ahead  and  the 
side-rushing  wind  made  a  splendid  pocket — 
a  fine  private  place  to  live  in.  Our  talk  would 
have  puzzled  the  New  York  people.  They'd 
have  declared  this  couldn't  be  that  Heyward 
girl  who  had  such  a  soothing,  amusing  way 
with  words.  And  it  wasn't.  This  was  Chloe. 

Who  said,  "You  ought  to  be  off  some- 
where lying  in  the  sun.  It's  piggish,  the  way 
we  hang  onto  you.  Please  let  me  drive.  Please 
try  to  rest." 

And  "You  and  I,"  Chloe  said,  "we  can 
hunt  for  Nasty." 

For  the  whole  of  our  ten  days  in  Heyward 
Mrs.  Heyward  watched  herself  about  drink- 
ing, cutting  down  further  than  she  had  for 
years.  Somehow,  she  managed  it.  And  to  Mr. 
(Continued  on  Page  94) 


There's  iiotliin^  like  tliis  Sauce  I^iii 
Its  ^lowin^  cye-aijpeal 

IMeiuls  sunny  "t|uick-neat"  copper 
With  star-iiri^ht  stainless  sieel! 


There's  nothing  like  this  Skillet 
To  stir  y<jur  clan  to  action 

Its  carly-m(jrr)ing  ham  n  e^/^js 
Win  cheers  of  satisfaction! 


There's  nothing  like  this  Kettle 
When  water  boils,  it  whistles 

Its  sleek  design  is  up-to-date 

As  streamlined  guided  missiles! 


There's  notiiing  like  this  Percolator 

Coffee's  ricii  aroma 
Is  matched  by  taste  so  rare  it  rates 

A  "sip-appeal"  diploma! 


There's  nothing  like  these  Handy-Pans 
Of  crack-proof  stainless  steel 

Left-overs  stored  in  Handy-Pans 
Will  keep  their  taste-appeal! 


There's  nothing  like  Dutch  Ovens 
To  make  pot  roasts  delicious 

Revere  Dutch  Ovens'  extra  touch 

Assures  you  "scraped-clean"  dishes! 


There's  notiiing  quite  like  Copper 
For  lightning  heat  conduction 

Heats  even  too  and,  what's  more,  you 
Get  cooking-time  reduction! 


There's  nothing  like  these  Mixing  Bowls 

Our  stainless  steel  sensation 
Just  slip  your  thumb  right  through  the  ring 

For  non-slip  operation! 


See  Ret  ere's 
"Meet  The  Press" 
on  SBC  Telefision, 
Sundays 


There's  nothing  like  this  Double  Boiler  .  .  . 

Saves  taste-tempting  juices 
For  cereal,  sauce  and  baby  food 

And  scores  of  other  uses! 


There's  nothing  like  Revere  Racks 

Of  stainless  steel  .  .  .  you'll  know 

Revere  Ware's  at  your  finger-tips 
To  cook  with  and  to  show! 


WAIVE 

9  » 

Look  for  this  seal  in  the  thick  copper  bottom- 
it  identifies  genuine  Revere  Ware. 

REVERE  COPPER  AND  BRASS  INCORPORATED 

Rome  Muiiufucturhig  Company  Dii  ision.  Rome,  Seu  York 


94 


1,   A    O    I    E    S  '  no 


ME  JOURNAL 


March,  1953 


''''Sorry,  kids — this^  is  the  day  of  the  week 
I  put  Draiio  in  all  the  drains!" 


It's  a  cold  fact  that  dangerous  sewer  germs  lurk  in  every 
drain.  No  liquid  disinfectant  can  budge  the  muck  they  breed 
in.  It  takes  Drano  to  unclog  drains  and  keep  them  running 
free  and  clear.  Use  Drano  once  a  week — every  week.  Won't 
harm  septic  tanks.  Makes  them  work  better.  Get  Drano 
today  at  your  grocery,  drug  or  hardware  store.  Also  avail- 
able in  Canada. 


There's  nothing  like  it . . .  lo  keep  drains  free-running. 


PRODUCTS  OF  THE  DRACKETT  COMPANY,  CINCINNATI,  OHIO 


'''If  Tm  going  to  be  Cinderella  in  the  school  play, 
I  want  my  glass  slippers  cleaned  with  Windex  Spray!' 


You're  never  too  young  to  learn.  It's  the  quickest, 
easiest,  thriftiest  way  to  make  windows,  mirrors, 
all  glass  surfaces  simply  sparkle.  Whish!  Spray  it 
on.  Swish!  Wipe  it  off  lightly.  Leaves  no  waxy  dust 
to  clean  afterwards  like  some  cleaners.  No  pail, 
no  sponge,  no  roughened  hands.  Costs  so  little — 
only  a  fraction  of  a  cent  a  window,  even  less  in  the 
big  money-saving  20-oz.  bottle.  Goes  so  far!  Get 
Windex  Spray  today  at  your  grocery,  drug  or  hard- 
ware store.  Also  sold  in  Canada. 


So  quick,  easy,  thrifty  it  outsells  all  other  gloss  cleaners  combined! 


(Continued  from  Page  92) 
Johnson  who  came  to  pace  up  and  down  her 
sitting  room  at  the  hotel  she  said,  "You're 
market-struck.  Moony  with  stock  prices,  just 
like  everybody!  If  I  hear  or  read  another 
word  about  the  '  new  high  plateau '  and  our 
'inexhaustible  prosperity'  I'll  throw  up!" 

"But  Kitty  "  Mr.  Johnson  began. 

"Orders  have  fallen  off  again  and  you 
know  it,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward. 

"But  look  at  Gastonia,"  Mr.  Johnson 
said,  "and  look  at  Honea  Path.  Not  two 
months  ago.  A  wage  cut  last  year— well,  we 
did  it.  But  not  again.  Not  now." 

"All  right  then,  a  layoff.  If  you  think 
that's  any  better." 

Mr  .  JOHNSON  shook  his  head,  but  "  I  plain 
don't  like  the  underneath  smell  of  things," 
Mrs.  Heyward  went  on.  "We're  going  to 
take  a  profit  while  it's  certain.  Besides— it's 
my  bet  that  if  you'll  listen  to  me  we'll  be 
operating  when  a  lot  like  us  are  shut  down. 
I'll  still  be  oaying  them  when  they  can't  get 
what-else.  But  does  that  enter  their  heads? 
No  indeed— their  heads  are  full  of  what  they 
hear  from  those  vultures  down  in  Raleigh — 
who  want  to  get  their  votes  at  our  ex- 
pense." 

Mr.  Jolinson  looked  around  nervously. 
"At  least,"  he  said,  "wait  a  bit." 

"We  can  always  raise  them  again.  Pro- 
vided things  go  so  we  can  afford  it.  The  best 
thing  for  you  to  do,  Johnny,"  said  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward, "is  pack  up  your  portfolio  and  get  on 
down  there  to  Raleigh." 

Every  day  the  Heyward  newspapers  told 
how  the  two  popular  visitors — Miss  Chloe 
Heyward,  who  upon  her  brilliant  debut  had 
captivated  New  York  society,  and  her  tal- 
ented mother,  Mrs.  James  Tate  Heyward— 
were  being  feted  by  prominent  matrons.  Mrs. 
Heyward  used  all  the  Bendel  hats  and 
Chloe's  search  for  Nasty  seemed  not  to 
bother  her.  She  said  that  was  really  too  bad, 
when  we  found  out  Nasty 'd  left  the  Rollinses 
and  nobody'd  heard  what  became  of  her. 

And  Mrs.  Heyward  gave  me  more  time  off 
fhan  I  knew  how  to  manage.  Ola-Mae  was 
pleased  enough  with  the  New  York  dress 
I'd  brought  her,  and  she  kept  eying  the  gold 
link  bracelet  curiously.  "  It's  not  I  don't  like 
it,"  she  declared,  "but  who'd  have  thought 
they'd  have  one  like  this— so  plain,"  and  she 
would  peek  at  the  inside  to  be  sure,  again,  of 
the  Tiffany  mark.  Still,  my  presents  didn't 
clear  away  the  stiffness  between  us.  "I'm 
thirty-five,"  said  Ola-Mae.  (Taking  off  four 
years  was  somehow  kind  of  charming  in  her. 
It  was  not  too  much,  not  bald-faced,  nor  yet 
so  little— like  a  year  or  two— as  to  be 
measly.)  "I'm  thirty-five— and  you  look 
older  than  me.  Anyway,"  she  said,  catching 
sight  of  herself  in  the  pinkish  mirror  of  the 
Tea  Shoppe,  "  I  don't  seem  too  old  to  ...  be 
out  here  with  you.  Do  I  ?  "  she  said,  and  while 


I  was  thinking  up  some  horrible  sentence 
about  old  friends  never  being  too  old  she 
touched  my  arm— and  I  saw  it  was  better 
just  to  be  still. 

I  might  have  got  some  pleasure  out  of  the 
early  part  of  being  at  Chapel  Hill— if  Chloe 
and  Peter  hadn't  spoiled  things.  I  could 
watch  the  dances  through  the  windows  of  the 
gym.  It  was  something  to  see— the  way  those 
girls  who  were  established  beauties  found 
themselves  having  to  move  a  long  way  over 
as  Chloe  came  into  their  midst.  But  all  the 
time  she  was  just  waiting  for  the  minute 
when  she  and  Peter  would  walk  off  or  climb 
into  his  rickety  Ford  and  drive  off  alone.  And 
Peter— who'd  broken  records  for  his  track 
team,  whose  bony  angles  were  now  all  settled 
to  keenness  in  a  body  as  tall  as  mine — Peter 
needed  no  man's  approval  of  his  girl. 
Had  Chloe  been  a  wallflower  his  eyes  would 
have  been  as  still  and  bright  as  they  were 
now,  as  careless  of  everything  on  earth  except 
that  Chloe  was  in  their  sight. 

It  was  a  wonder  how  much  time  he  man- 
aged to  spend  with  her.  He'd  been  Grand 
Something-or-other  in  the  Gimghouls  as 
well  as  editor  of  the  college  newspaper,  and 
everybody  wanted  either  to  get  him  aside 
to  talk  or  to  introduce  him  to  some  girl. 

When  I  saw  Mrs.  Mebane  I  was  struck  by 
her  special  way  of  enjoying  all  this.  As  if 
every  mothering  act  of  her  past  years  had 
been  an  act  of  friendship.  As  if  this  time 
when  Peter  was  taken  up  with  Chloe 
and  was  going  away  into  his  work  was  the 
best  of  it  all  so  far.  She  still  wore  black, 
and  except  for  the  occasion  when  Peter 
would  get  his  diploma  she'd  rather  have 
stayed  away  from  functions.  But  she  took 
Mrs.  Heyward  to  a  tea  at  President  Chase's 
house.  And  she  sat  up  in  Mrs.  Heyward's 
apartment  at  the  Carolina  Inn  all  through 
the  first  evening,  discouraging  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward from  going  along  to  the  dance  with  the 
young  people— and  causing  her  to  keep  down 
to  one  third  of  a  bottle  of  the  brandy  she'd 
gone  back  to. 

The  strain  of  Mrs.  Heyward's  temperance 
had  reached  the  point  where  as  soon  as  we 
got  to  the  inn  she  decided  to  have  ice  sent 
up  and  "take  a  rest "  instead  of  being  shown 
round  by  Peter.  So,  for  those  first  few  hours, 
I  went  along,  foolish  and  shameless  and 
eagerly  believing  in  this  plausible  figure,  this 
faithful  old  Taw  that  Peter  and  Chloe  must 
want  to  take  sight-seeing  with  them.  Peter's 
way  of  introducing  me  to  his  college  friends 
all  but  turned  my  uniform  into  a  linen  suit 
like  theirs.  And  when  he  and  Chloe  went  to 
lunch  at  an  eating  club  he  made  it  seem— 
till  they  were  gone— that  only  some  fine  en- 
gagement I  had  kept  me  from  going  there  too. 

Through  Chloe  I  knew  that  along  with 
everything  else  Peter  had  managed  to  start 
(Continued  on  Page  97) 


"Come  quick,  and  see  what  I've  taught  him!" 


nothing  beats  it 

. . .  everything  wonderful  you've 
heard  about  plastic  is 


I. veil  a(  IuiikIi  liallib  points  like  Ihis,  (juM  Seal 
Viny  I  i- lor  out  wcurs,  outlasts,  oiitpcrformi  a  like  (hick- 
ncss  of  any  other  kind  of  resilient  f1<x>r  covering. 


built  into  Gold  Seal  Vinyl  iniaids 


VInvlFlor  No   7000    •    VinylTile  insets  No.  PT  01     •    VinylTop  No.  3000    •    Coniiowoll  No  W1A 


Nowhere  will  you  get  more  enjoyment,  more 
value  out  of  plastic,  than  when  it's  put  on  your 
doors  and  counter  tops.  Perhaps  the  nicest  thing 
ibout  resilient  Gold  Seal  VinylFlor  is  that  it  never 
needs  waxing  for  protection  against  wear.  How- 
sver,  if  you  want  mirror  brilliance  that  lasts  and 


lasts,  just  give  your  VinylFlor  an  occasional  light 
waxing.  Like  all  Gold  Seal  products,  Gold  Seal 
Vinyl  Inlaids  carry  the  famous  guarantee  of  satis- 
faction— or  your  money  back!  Yet  the  Gold  Seal 
VinylFlor  material  for  a  9'  x  12'  kitchen  just  as 
handsome  as  this  one  costs  only  about  $31.00. 


Don't  worry  —  iiotliiiig  >(ju  ic  api  to  use  in  the 
kitchen  can  harm  Gold  Seal  VinylFlor.  Bleaches, 
acids — even  the  harshest  kind  of  drain  cleaner — 
won't  staio  or  mar  its  sparkling,  rugged  beauty. 


1 


Greatest  thing  yet  for  kitchen  counter  tops — Gold 
Seal  VinylTop.  Takes  grease,  spillovers  and  abra- 
sives in  its  stride.  What's  more,  it's  so  flexible, 
counter  and  splashboard  form  one  seamless  piece. 


Also  in  lay-it-yourself  VinylTile,  the  tile  that's  pre- 
cision-cut for  easy  installation.  And  all  Gold  Seal 
Vinyls  are  inlaid — with  color  all  the  way  through 
to  the  backing.  No  wonder  their  beauty  lasts! 


GOLD  SEAL 


FLOORS  and  WALLS 


CONGOLEUM -NAIRN   I N  C. .  K  EA  R  N  Y,  N .  J. 


(('o>ili)iiiiil  from  I'dni-  U  f) 
vorkiiiK  on  a  novel,  and  I  rciiu'inhcrefl  liow 
icused  to sliovvini'liis stories.  Hut  licavoidwl 
iiy  (|ucslions  now.  "Do  you  keep  a  nolc- 
)<x)k?"  tie  aski'd  me.  aiui  "Why  not  you? 
V'oiir  letter  aliout  clad  was  the  Ix'sl  one  we 
lad."  In  his  room  in  Old  l-Iasl  which  he 
nvited  ine  to  visit  frit'ly  there,  scattered 
m  liisdesk,  were  the  manuscript  Danes  of  his 
novel.  lie  saw  my  eye  on  them  and  stuffed 
iheni  away  into  a  drawer.  "You  (ind  out 
how  ^;rel•n  you  are,"  was  all  he  would  say. 

My  mind  kept  runninR  to  Peter's  lxx)k 
and  1  supi)i)si  (l  I  was  uneasy  for  fear  it  was 
no  hotter  than  lie  thoiinhl.  Hut  he  t(K>k  Chloe 
away  as  the  dance  was  ending  that  (irsl 
niuht.  And  tiie  hi^  asii  tray  in  my  little  room 
was  overllowinu  in  the  dark  before  I  heard 
his  Ford  rat lle-banuiuK  up  to  the  inn.  In 
the  morning  I  saw  the  rich  kM)k  still  on 
Chk)e's  mouth.  And  what  stahlx'd  my 
tlK)u^;ht  alK)ut  Peter's  hidden-away  writing 
was  not  worry  for  how  \x)<>r  it  mi^ht  be,  but 
a  strong  notion  of  iiow  ^ood  it  probably 
was. 

Peter's  farewell  editorial  in  the  colIe^^c 
paper  must  have  made  some  stir  on  the  cam- 
pus at  tile  time  it  Ciune  out.  Hut  if  the 
i^aleinh  paper  hadn't  picked  it  up  It)  copy  we 
^li^;ht  never  have  seen  this  bit  of  Peter's 
vvritinn   or  even  heard  of  it.  When  Mrs. 
Heyward  read  it  her  lirst  tack  was  to  be  scorn- 
ful and  half  amused.  She  said  this  only 
showed  iiow  a  dearth  of  real  news  could  brin^^ 
notice  even  to  the  insinuations  of  an  irrespon- 
sible college  boy.  She  said  he  would  have  to 
retract  them,  of  course,  but  meantime  sen- 
sible people  certainly  ought  not  to  pay  any 
attention  to  theni.  How- 
ever, quite  a  few  members 
of  the  legislature  must 
have  begun  paying  atten- 
tion right  away.  Because 
by  afternoon  of  our  second 
day  at  Chapel  Hill— which 
was  the  day  the  Raleigh 
paper  came  out —the  phone 
in  the  hall  at  Old  East  be-  " 
gan  its  ceaseless  ringing. 
I  heard  it  from  Peter's  room.  I  was  about 
to  go  and  stop  that  noise  from  shrilling  against 
the  ache  in  my  head  when  the  phone  fell  si- 
lent. For  a  few  minutes. 

Up  through  noon  I'd  managed  to  stay  out- 
side, to  walk  the  campus  or  the  paths  of  the 
Arboretum.  I  knew  it  was  better  to  keep 
going,  even  though  any  close-moving,  hand- 
in-hand  pair  that  crossed  my  path  might  be 
Chloe  and  Peter.  I  stayed  out  there  where  all 
I  could  see  was  those  hundreds  of  boys  who'd 
come,  ready-schooled,  to  such  a  place  as 
this.  They'd  had  their  fine  or  ordinary  brains 
limbered  against  calculus  and  stretched  to 
philosophies.  They'd  run  races,  and  danced 
with  graceful  girls,  spending  their  strength  to 
no  end  but  pleasure  and  the  honor  of  their 
group.  There  was  nowhere  to  look  but  at 
somebody  who  had  all  this  behind  him  while 
he  was  scarcely  older  than  I  was  when  I  be- 
gan the  alphabet. 

When  I  saw  Peter  and  Chloe  inside  the 
soda  shop  where  I'd  thought  to  go  for  lunch 
I  knew  I  couldn't  eat. 

Nobody  would  have  gone  back  to  swelter 
in  my  tiny  quarters.  But  I  didn't  even  bother 
to  tell  myself  this  as  I  sat  in  Peter's  room. 
Nor  did  I  think  how  I  had  come  past  the 
new  library,  and  past  every  shaded  bench 
to  this  one  place,  to  sit  here— not  wholly 
vacant,  but  dimly  astonished— like  any  man 
who  feels  the  curious  working  of  the  poison 
that  corrupts  his  blood. 

When  the  phone  stopped  ringing,  my  hands 
fell  away  from  my  head.  And  there  I  was 
staring  at  the  drawer  of  Peter's  desk.  Inside 
the  desk  there  were  bits  of  paper  that  could 
expose  that  passion  which  Peter  Mebane 
spent  in  writing.  My  hand  was  on  the  knob 
of  the  drawer,  but  something  said.  "What 
are  you  doing  here?  We  were  certain  you 
and  Chloe  would  have  gone  somewhere  to- 
gether." 

Then  I  was  holding  to  the  desk  and  "Oh," 
a  voice  said,  "against  the  light— I  thought 
you  were  Peter." 

The  phone  began  again  and  I  realized  a 
man  was  coming  toward  me.  It  turned  out 


to  Ik'  Professor  Cailum,  Mrs.  Mi-bane'H 
amsin.  "You  must  Ix- Taw.  Ofcourw!"  We 
sh(X)k  hands  nnd  he  je  rked  ins  neal  li<  ad  to- 
ward the  |)iione,  "We  had  Ki  lake  il  off  the 
h<X)k  at  home.  JuHl  lell  them,  will  you.  thai 
we'll  rin«  back  an  soon  an  we've  found 
him?" 

The  Raleigh  operator  and  sonu  lxxly  away 
in  Asheville  wanted  to  s|H:ik  to  PeU-r. 

W  !•;  c.iti't  Ik'  surprised,"  Profennor  C  ai- 
lum s;iid,  and  he  handed  me  the  K.ilngh  |)a- 
IKT  folded  to  Peter's  editorial.  This  was  a 
short  i)iecc  which  Ix-gan  by  saying  that  every 
memlxr  of  the  class  of  ''M  was  or  wxm 
would  Ix-  a  new  voter.  The  gist  was  thai 
resix)nsibility  for  honest  government  must 
begin  with  the  voters.  I'd  have  yawned  at 
this  old  saw  except  that  nolxxly  could 
yawn  in  the  face  of  Peter's  style  and  what  he 
wrote  alx)ut  the  newly  adjourned  st'ssion  of 
the  slate  legislature.  He  said  uiformed  cir- 
cles had  fully  expected  the  |)ass;ige  of  a  bill 
that  was  to  biy  a  tax  on  spinning  machines. 
And  he  siiid  there  was  rumor  that  the  over- 
night change  on  the  part  of  enough  repre 
sentatives  to  defeat  it  was  not  a  simi)le 
change  of  heart.  A  voter  might  decide  not  to 
stir  himself  pro  or  anti  lax  all  right  Peter 
said,  but  every  voter  must  keej)  alert  to  see 
that  he  and  his  fellows  were  represented  by 
men  whose  ix)ckel  nerves  could  withstand 
the  pressure  of  enticement. 

The  I*\)rd  was  billowing  with  wild  jessa- 
mine from  out  at  Piney  Point  when  Chkx; 
and  Peter  came  driving  up,  serenely,  to  the 
afternoon  dance.  They  never  got  inside  the 
gym.  There,  waiting  with  Peter's  assistant 
editor,  were  re|X)rlers  from 
tile  Raleigh  and  Fayette- 
ville  papers. 


The  man  who  If  wrapped 
up  In  himself  makes  a 
mighty  imall  parcel. 

—ANON. 


By  n(xm  the  next  day 
Mr.   Louis  Hawksworth 
was  calling  up  long-dis- 
tance. "What  do  you 
mean— 'we'?  You're  the 
00OOO      president,"  Mrs.  Heyward 
said  to  him,  and  "  Why  say 
anything?  Do  you  know  anything  alx)ut  this 
nonsense?  Well  then!  Why  botlier  tne? 
What?  Oh  —my  opinion  is  that  a  half-smart 
boy  who  wants  to  get  a  newspaper  job 
thought  he'd  get  some  free  publicity.  But 
the  publicity."  she  finislied  dryly,  "has  back- 
fired on  him." 

By  evening,  "This,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward 
to  Chloe,  "is  one  thing  Peter  Mebane'U 
never  wriggle  out  of.  Not  with  his  skin  on." 

It  looked  like  maybe  Mrs.  Heyward  was 
right.  Several  newspapers  over  tlie  state 
were  saying  there  might  be  fire  behind  young 
Mebane's  smoke,  and  one  said  there  sliould 
be  an  official  investigation.  But  most  of  tliem 
gave  Peter  hell.  They  said  if  he  had  any  facts 
he'd  better  produce  them.  Various  legislators 
were  giving  tongue  to  their  outrage  in  inter- 
views as  well  as  in  letters  to  Peter  and  into 
his  ear  on  the  phone.  The  shut-down  office  of 
the  college  paper  was  reopened  and  except 
for  two  hours  Peter'd  been  there  all  day.  Just 
before  the  graduation  exercises  President 
Chase  sent  for  him.  Nobody  knew  what  had 
passed  between  them.  But  when  Peter  took 
his  diploma  even  the  wide  air  over  Kenan 
Stadium  didn't  quite  blot  away  the  faint 
sound  of  unfriendly  curiosity  that  the  crowd 
sent  into  it. 

Tliat  night  the  local  town  paper  was 
calling  for  "evidence  or  retraction."  And 
that  night  the  shadows  under  Chloe's  eyes 
were  nearly  as  violet-colored  as  her  dress  for 
the  Commencement  Ball. 

Around  ten  o'clock,  "You  look,"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said  to  Chloe,  "like  a  case  of  all 
dressed  up  and  no  place  to  go." 

What  Chloe  looked  like  was  the  sight  of 
Helen  that  Marlowe  gave  to  his  Faustus. 
Even  the  "tliousand  stars"  were  there— all 
those  little  diamond  things  in  Chloe's  dress 
sprinkled  upward  to  the  beginning  of  her 
tender  fine  flesh.  Her  paleness  had  a  light  in 
it,  and  light  came  off  the  curls  of  her  hair 
brushed  up  from  her  forehead  and  ears. 

"He  can't  produce  a  shred  of  evidence. 
And  here  you  are— 'stood  up'  while  he  fools 
around  trying  to  brazen  it  out!"  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward said,  and  Chloe's  hand  stirred.  But 


Now !  ^a/6hv 

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Minute  Tapioca  Cream 
V2  teaspoon  grated  orange  rmd 
Orange  sections 

J    kip  rprioe  directions  on 
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st  thickener  for  fruit  and  berry  pies!  Minute  Tapioca  won't 
sk  fruit  flavor  and  color.  If  recipe  calls  for  cornstarch,  use  Minute 
pioca  instead  (same  amount).  If  it  calls  for  flour,  use  slightly  less 
lioca  instead. 

A  Product  of  General  Foods 


right  away,  before  it  could  betray  any  need 
for  mercy,  it  was  forced  to  stillness. 

"This  morning,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said, 
"you  went  down  there  to  Peter's  office.  But 
I  notice  you  came  back  pretty  quickly.  What 
happened?  D'you  think  he  appreciates  this 
blind  faith  of  yours?" 

"Can  you  make  decent  coffee?"  Chloe 
asked.  "Can  you?"  she  insisted,  and  as  her 
mother  gave  a  startled  nod,  "Well,  I  can't," 
she  said,  "but  Susan  Hudgins  can.  On  a  hot 
plate.  And  Kay  Greggory  can  type  a  letter. 
And  take  dictation." 

Chloe's  mother  looked  amazed.  "Why, 
Chloe,  how  absurd!  You  were  jealous." 

"No — just  ashamed,"  Chloe  said.  And 
while  her  mother  stared  she  held  out  her  own 
two  hands,  turning  them  over,  looking  coolly 
at  them  as  if  they  were  a  pair  of  tawdry 
trinkets. 

Chloe,  stop  that!"  Mrs.  Heyward  cried. 
"If  you  really  want  to  help  him,  no  doubt 
you  can.  Even  now,  if  he  should  explain  he'd 
been  misinformed— or  just  take  back  his 
nonsense  with  good  grace— he  could  come 
out  all  right.  He's  young,  and  people  forget 
the  foolishness  of  youngsters." 

"Where  do  I  come  in?"  asked  Chloe. 

"Really,  baby!"  Mrs.  Heyward  smiled 
and  pointed  toward  a  mirror.  "Look  there 
and  see  if  you  don't  think  almost  any  young 
he-thing  would  do  what  you  asked — with  the 
right  approach  from  you,  of  course." 

"And  the  right  approach?"  said  Chloe. 

"Is  elementary — or  I  guess  the  word  is 
elemental."  Mrs.  Heyward  looked  amused. 

"Why,  Mummy  — 
what's  this?"  Chloe's 
face  was  dead-pan.  "  Don't 
you  hold  that  sex  is  just  a 
low  indulgence?" 

"Who  said  anything 
about  indulging  ?  The  effec- 
tive thing  is  not  to!  And — 
i  f  you  used  your  head — you 
might  save  this  boy  from 
his  own  folly."  Mrs.  Heyward  gave  a  start 
when  the  phone  rang.  She  had  even  forgotten 
that  I  was  still  there.  But  while  I  answered, 
and  spoke  to  a  mild-voiced  man  who  was 
asking  for  Peter,  she  recovered  herself.  She 
looked  up  brightly  over  her  brandy  glass 
when  Peter  came  in.  "Taw!"  she  cried.  "A 
drink  for  Don  Quixote!" 

On  Peter  a  ball  marshal's  rosette  and  the 
handed-down  evening  clothes  of  one  of  his 
cousins  seemed  as  fine  as  any  court  regalia.  I 
told  him  about  the  phone  call.  "A  Mr.  Ras- 
kin," I  said.  "He's  looking  for  you." 

Peter,  who'd  sat  down  beside  Chloe,  stood 
up.  "Where?"  he  asked,  and  "Here,"  the 
mild  voice  answered,  and  over  in  the  door- 
way was  a  little  leather-skinned,  child-sized 
man.  He  was  holding  to  his  straw  hat  and  I 
had  to  put  off  paying  attention  to  whoever  it 
was  standing  behind  him.  I  knew  I  would 
probably  never  again  see  a  man  whose  body 
so  plainly  announced  his  history.  The  skimpy 
food  and  cold-sleeping  of  his  first  years,  the 
kerosene  lamps  of  his  worn-out,  nighttime 
studying,  the  wishful  weary  road  that  ran 
from  farm  to  market  through  every  year  and 
day  right  up  to  this  night — all  these  parts  of  a 
long  battle  were  in  the  look  of  this  man  wait- 
ing there  in  his  cared-for  "decent"  clothes. 

By  the  time  I  noticed  the  other,  younger, 
man  Peter  had  placed  himself  in  front  of 
Chloe.  As  if  the  gaze  of  Mr.  Raskin's  eyes 
might  hurt  her.  Anyone  could  see  that  if 
Peter  had  ever  wanted  to  meet  this  man  all 
he  wanted  now  was  to  turn  him  away.  So, 
"Ask  your  friends  to  come  in,  Peter,"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said.  She  took  in  the  young  man's 
rumpled  suit.  Then  she  let  her  eyes  linger  on 
Mr.  Raskin's  rough,  red  neck,  and  "Come 
in — gentlemen,"  she  said.  Mr.  Raskin's  head 
turned,  as  if  the  tone  of  her  last  word  had 
caught  and  stung  him  where  she  glanced. 

Maybe  in  that  minute  Mrs.  Heyward 
knew  who  and  what  this  man  was.  But  she 
was  headlong  now,  being  in  herself  the  double 
runaway — the  driver  who  will  keep  the  reins 
at  any  cost  and  the  creature,  too,  holding  off 
the  iron  bit  from  the  helpless  lip.  She  sat 
smiling  to  hear  that  the  young  man  was  a 
reporter  for  the  Charlotte  News,  and  she 
asked  Mr.  Raskin  which  was  his  paper,  as 


He  preaches  well  that  lives 
well,  quoth  Sancho,  that's 
all  the  divinity  I  under- 
stand. —CERVANTES 


March,  19i\^ 

bold  and  bland  as  if  she'd  never  seen  a  farmei 
And  when  Peter  said  Mr.  Raskin  was  a  men 
ber  of  the  legislature  all  she  did  was  give 
the  signal  for  drinks  all  round.  i 
She  and  the  reporter  were  the  only  takers 
and  "  I  can't  talk  to  you  here— in  fact,  sir, 
won't,"  Peter  said  to  Mr.  Raskin. 

The  little  man  gave  him  a  patient,  affec 
tionate  glance.  "All  right,  son,  but  I  tok- 
you  I  was  going  to  talk  when  the  time  wai 
right.  Maybe  it  ain't  yet— for  me— but  it's 
plain  high  time  on  your  account.  I  got  youi 
in — and  Claude  says  I  have  to  help  you  out.'  | 
"  Who's  Claude?  "  the  newsman  asked.  1 
"My  son.  Friend  of  this  boy's."  Mr.i 
Raskin  cleared  his  throat.  "Claude's  beenj 
up  here  four  years,"  he  said,  talking  out  slow 
and  modest  to  tell  of  such  a  costly  triumph. 

A  smell  of  perfume  and  brandy  in  the  hot 
still  air  gave  a  curious,  sociable  touch  toj 
things.  As  if  repeating  some  trifle  of  gossip,} 
Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "No  doubt  Peter  has! 
his  own  reasons  for  wanting  to  see  the  mills! 
hamstrung.  But  you— can  you  be  joined  i 

with  him  in  this  crazy  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  "Mr.  Raskin  said.  And  to  the  i 
reporter,  "They  didn't  come  bald.  Just  told  a 
friend  of  mine  to  tell  me— in  case  I  was  in- 
terested. It  was  the  day  before  the  bill  " 

Amidst  a  crashing  of  springs  Mrs.  Hey-  j 
ward  came  out  of  her  chair  and  the  small  I 
slow  man  was  rocked  back,  brought  to  star- 
ing upward  while  her  words  poured  down  on 
him.  "Now  you've  got  to  invent  something, 
haven 't  you  ?  You  didn 't  go  straight  to  the  pa- 
pers—the real  papers— did  you  ?  No  indeed. 
Because  all  you  had  to  tell  was  a  sour-grapes 
lie!    And    Peter,  who'd 
want  to  believe  it,  was  just 
your  dish,  wasn't  he?" 

"  I  knew  he  was  the  only 
one,"  Mr.  Raskin  an- 
swered—"the  only  one 
who'd  take  me  on  trust  for 
just  the  amount  I  was 
ready  to  tell  and  no  more. 
And  anything  he  wrote 
would  set  me  a  straw  in  the  wind— before 
I  run  out  to  get  knocked  down  in  a  gale." 

"Nonsense !  What  nonsense !  What  were  you 
afraid  of?  "  Mrs.  Heyward  turned  the  flash  of 
her  face  around  on  all  of  us.  "He  knew  that 
kind  of  lying  was  dangerous,  didn't  he?" 

"I  was  afraid  of  you,"  Mr.  Raskin  said, 
"and  of  the  ones  who  took  the  money.  And 
of  any  big  people  who'd  want  to  hush  this 
up  before  I  got  it  far  enough  along." 

"Who  took  money?"  the  reporter  asked. 
Mr.  Raskin  shook  his  head.  "  I  don't  know 

any  which  one  for  certain,  but  " 

"You  see?"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "He 
doesn't  know!  He  can't  know — because  all 

this  is  just  a  " 

"John  T.  Johnson  was  there  with  a  hun- 
dred thousand  dollars,"  Mr.  Raskin  said. 

The  reporter  got  out  of  his  chair.  But  Mrs. 
Heyward  made  it  to  the  door  ahead  of  him. 
"We  can  show  our  books  with  every  penny 
in  plain  sight!"  she  said.  "And  I  can  prove 
the  lie  on  those  two.  I  can  give  you  the  real 
story  you  came  after." 

The  young  man  made  as  if  to  get  past 
her,  but  Mrs.  Heyward  laid  hold  of  his  arm. 
"My  dear  boy — are  you  a  piece  of  a  ma- 
chine? A  little  cog  in  the  organized  press?" 
Softly  she  brought  her  other  hand  onto  his 
bare  wrist.  "You  came  here  with  this  petty 
politician— but  what  do  you  know  about 
me? "  She  smiled  and  she  was  faintly  in  mo- 
tion—as if  this  old  useful,  slight  lift-and-tum 
from  the  hips  was  not  now  fulsome  but  still  a 
handsome,  careless  sign  of  a  living  power. 
"Heyward  is  nothing  but  a  mill  name  to 
you.  But  I  am  a  human  being— a  woman — 
and  I  know  the  truth  about  this  affair.  You 
and  I  can  get  the  straight  of  it.  We'll  clear 

everybody  out  of  here,  and  we  "  The 

reporter's  free  hand  jerked  up.  And  Mrs. 
Heyward  looked  from  his  stiff,  unhappy  face 
down  to  the  haste  and  horror  of  his  fingers 
unclasping  her  own  from  his  wrist.  While  we 
listened  to  the  reporter's  footsteps  rushing 
away  she  stood  still.  Her  upper  lip  was  lightly 
sweated,  and  at  the  edge  of  her  steep-bosomed 
dress  was  that  patch  of  flesh,  delicately  with- 
ered. 

(To  be  Continued) 


$ 


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• 


1 

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\vork-.sa\  ini)  conveniences  that  speed  you  through 
kitelien  hom-s,  lhat  give  you  new  leisure  time. 

Wall  and  base  cabinets  are  cuslom-planncd  to  fit 
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to  last  a  houselime.  .-a 

There's  a  kitchen  planning  expert  rrear  you  who 
can  show  you  how  a  Youngstown  Kitchen  can  be 
installed  for  less  than  you'd  think.  Send  coupon. 

MULLINS  MANUFACTURING  CORPORATION 

WARREN,  OHIO 
Youngstown  Kitchens  ore  sold  throughout  the  World 


YOUNGSTOWN  KITCHENS 

NEW 

FOOD  WASTE  DISPOSER 

No  more  garbage!  Youngs- 
town Kitchens  new  Food 
Waste  Disposer  shreds 
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•Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off. 


Western  Union,  Operator  25,  and  without 

charge  get  the  name  of  a  nearby  dealer. 


Mullins  Manufacturing  Corporation 
Dept.  L-353,  Warren,  Ohio 

Send  kitchen-planning  idea  book.  I  enclose  10c  to  cover  cost  of  mailing.  (No 
stamps,  please.) 


I  plan  to  buy  a  house  O 


I  plon  to  modernize  ^ 


I  plan  to  build  o  house 


NAME    (Please  print) 


ADDRESS 


CITY 


1_. 


STATE  I 

©  1953  Mullins  Manufarttfring  Corporation  J 


*1 


Dinner  for  six:  hot  borsch,  tenderloin  of  pork  surrounded  by  vegetables,  baked  custards  with  luscious  caramel-nut  sauce. 


WITH  this  dinner  your  reputation  as  a  cook  is  bound 
to  go  up  several  notches.  Maybe  that's 
prideful  talk,  but  I  hope  it's  justified  and  I  think  it  is. 
From  start  to  finish  this  is  such  good  food  tliat  it  appears  to 
be  a  production,  but  it  doesn't  put  any 
great  strain  on  the  producer. 

First  there  will  be  hot  borsch — a  most  simplified  version 
of  borsch,  and  delicious.  The  chef-d'oeuvre — 
and  that  is  not  too  fancy  a  name  for  it — is  tenderloin 
of  pork  surrounded  by  vegetables.  I  use  a  plank  for 
this,  but  a  pottery  chop  plate  or  platter  would  be  fine  too. 
As  generally  popular  as  it  is,  most  people 
don't  think  of  pork  when  planning  a  party  dinner,  but 
if  there  is  any  meat  more  elegant  than  these  luscious  strips 
of  tenderloin  I  don't  know  it.  For  the  vegetables  Fm 
suggesting  groups  of  Brussels  sprouts       (Continued  on  Page  102) 


By  Itufli  MillN  Toaguo 


The  main  dish  is  gorgeous.  It  should  be  seen  and  carved  at  the  table. 


) 


never 
outgrow 
your 
need 
for 

Milk! 


—  and  iriilkfi  iohcious . . . 


CHICKEH  A  I A  KING- 


.  .  .  smoothly  delicious  with  the  goodness  of 
MILK.  Just  one  of  many  favorite  "creamed"  foods 
combining  milk  nutriment  with  tempting  flavor. 


...60  many  ways ! 


STKAWBEKPIES,  CEREAL  and  UllK 

...  for  breakfast,  of  course!  Light  supper  for  youngsters, 
too.  Nourishing,  satisfying  . ,  .  with  the  flavor  and  food 
value  of  MILK. 


AMERICAN  DAIRY  ASSOCIATION 

''Voice  of  the  Dairy  Farmer" 
20  N.  Wacker  Drive  Bldg.,  Chicago  6,  111. 


2 


I.  A   n    T    R  s 


II    O    M  F, 


.1    O    U    R    N    A  L 


March,  19S3 


'  Tfe,  JaW£/,  G2  "die 

QetiMk.\ 


If 


\  mane 

Saves  so 
much  space  in 
the  refrigerator! 


No  more  bottles 
to  wash  or  return. 
What  a  convenience! 


YOUR   PERSONAL  MILK  CONTAINER 


USE  EMPTY  CONTAINERS  FOR  FROZEN  FOOD  CARTONS 


Unfold  Slip  Over 

Cut-off  Top         Package  to  Seal 

Pure-Pok  Division    EX-CELL-0  CORPORATION    Detroit  32,  Michigan 


(Conlimifd  from  Page  100) 
and  carrots  with  an  outside  border  of  mashed 
rutabaga  (yellow  turnip)  and  potato.  The 
tenderloins  are  larded,  brushed  with  a  soya- 
sauce  mixture  and  roasted.  Then  they  are 
transferred  to  the  plank  or  platter,  sur- 
rounded by  the  cooked  vegetables  and  put  in 
a  low — 200°  F.  or  less — oven  until  serving 
time.  A  sharp-tasting  apple  relish  is  fine  with 
the  pork,  and  instead  of  a  salad,  which  would 
be  redundant,  we'll  have  rabbit  food— scal- 
lions,  celery,  radishes,  cauliflower  and  olives. 
The  dessert  for  this  meal  should  not  be 
heavy,  and  I  think  baked  custards  with 
caramel-nut  sauce  will  strike  just  the  right 
note.  The  bland  custards  and  highly  flavored 
sauce  make  a  perfecl  combination. 

Now  to  recipes,  which  will  serve  six— and 
only  six. 

BORSCH 

Empty  a  1 -pound  can  of  julienne  beets  into 
an  electrir  blender  and  buzz  until  smooth.  If 
you  don' I  have  a 
blender,  the  beets 
can  be  pressed 
through  a  vegetable- 
puree  machine  or  a 
sieve,  or  they  can  be 
chopi>ed  very  fine. 
Finely  chop  enough 
onion  to  fill  1  cup; 
melt  3  tablespoons 
butter  or  margarine 
in  a  skillet:  add 
onion  and  1  clove 
garlic,  minced,  and 
saute  about  2  min- 
utes. The  onion 
should  be  slightly 
cooked,  but  its  tex- 
ture .should  remain 
crisp.  Combine 
onion,  pureed  beets, 
1%  cups  water,  3 
envelopes  beef- 
bouillon  powder  or 
3  beef - b ou i I  Ion 
cubes,  1  tablespoon 
lemon  juice,  several 
dashesTabasco,  and 
salt  to  taste.  Bring 
to  a  boil  just  before 
serving,  but  don't 
let  it  cook  too  long 
or  the  onion  will  be- 
come soft. 

Put  a  big  spoon- 
ful of  thick  com- 
mercial sour  cream 
in  each  soup  cup,  or 
pass  the  sour  cream 
at  the  table. 

For  this  meal  1 
think  the  soup 
should  be  hot,  but 
remember  this 

recipe  next  summer  becajise  it's  delicious 
served  cold. 

BAKED  TENDERLOIN  OF  PORK 
Get  2  strips  pork  tenderloin — and  you'd 
better  warn  your  butcher  in  advance  because 
there  are  only  two  of  these  precious  jobs  in  a 
whole  pig.  Ask  him  to  cover  the  tenderloins 
all  over  with  very  thin  strips  of  fat  and  tie 
them  in  many  places  as  he  would  a  rolled 
roast  of  beef.  The  strips  of  fat  should  be  cut 
on  the  sHcing  machine  so  that  they  will  be 
uniformly  thin.  This  coating  of  fat  prevents 
the  meat  from  drying  out — also  it  gets  crisp 
and  brown  and  has  a  wonderful  taste.  To  J  2 
cup  soya  sauce  add  1  tablespoon  grated 
onion,  1  clove  garUc,  minced,  I  tablespoon 
vinegar,  34  teaspoon  cayenne  pepper  and  3^ 
teaspoon  sugar.  Brush  this  over  meat  several 
hours  before  cooking  and  again  when  you  put 
it  in  the  oven.  Bake,  uncovered,  in  a  slow — 
300°  F. — oven  until  tender — about  1?^  bouts, 
basting  frequently  with  the  sauce  and  juice 
in  bottom  of  pan.  When  done,  remove  strings 
carefully  and  put  tenderloins  in  center  of 
plank  or  platter  in  a  very  slow  oven. 

While  the  meat  is  roasting  cook  the  vege- 
tables. I  needn't  discuss  how  to  cook  carrots 
and  Brussels  sprouts  except  to  say  that  they 
should  be  boiled  in  separate  kettles  of  salted 
water  and  to  warn  against  overcooking. 


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Brussels  sprouts  are  so  good  when  they  are 
firm  and  so  awful  when  they  are  soft  and 
mushy.  Drain  thoroughly  and  keep  warm 
until  you  are  ready  to  arrange  the  plank  or 
platter.  ^ 

MASHED  RUTABAGA  AND  POTATOES 

Use  2  3^  pounds  potatoes  to  1 5^  pounds  ruta- 
baga (yellow  turnip):  peel  both,  cut  into 
chunks  and  cook  rutabaga  in  salted  water 
until  it  begins  to  be  tender.  Add  potatoes 
and  cook  until  both  vegetables  are  tender 
enough  for  mashing.  Drain  thoroughly  and 
shake  pan  over  low  heat  to  remove  moisture. 
Mash  and  press  through  a  ricer.  Add  3  table- 
spoons butter  or  margarine,  and  salt  and 
white  pepper  to  taste,  and  whip  until  light 
If  they  should  seem  too  stiff — and  I  don't 
think  this  will  happen — add  a  little  creamer 
milk,  but  be  careful  not  to  make  them  runny. 

Now  back  to  the  plank.  Arrange  alter- 
nately six  groups  of  carrots  and  six  groups  of 
Brussels  sprouts 
around  the  tender- 
loin strips,  then 
make  a  generous 
border  of  mashed 
rutabaga  and  po- 
tato. You  can  use 
a  pastry  tube  for 
this,  but  you  can 
do  a  very  pretty  job 
with  the  help  of 
two  spoons  and  it's 
50  much  faster  and 
easier.  Anyhow,  this 
is  all  going  to  loolf 
perfectly  beautiful 
without  benefit  of 
pastry  tube. 
Sprinkle  carrots  and 
Brussels  sprouts 
with  melted  butter 
or  margarine,  put 
plank  or  platter  in  a 
very  slow  oven  and 
don't  worry  if  it 
has  to  wait  a  while. 
Add  some  water  to 
drippings  in  baking 
pan  and  thicken 
slightly  with  corn- 
starch mixed  with 
water.  This  gravy 
is  terrific. 


APPLE  RELISH 
Mix  1  teaspoon  dry  ' 
mustard  and  34  cup 
vinegar.  Add  3^  cup 
seedless  white  rai- 
sins, cover  and  boil 
gently  until  raisins 
are  puffy  and  have 
absorbed  the  vine- 
gar. Stir  raisins  into 
1  cup  applesauce  and  add  2  tablespoons 
prepared  horse-radish. 

BAKED  CUSTARDS 
Beat  4  whole  eggs  and  1  egg  yolk  a  little.  Put 
3  tablespoons  undiluted  evaporated  milk  in 
a  measuring  cup,  fdl  cup  with  whole  milk  and 
put  this  with  2  more  cups  whole  milk  in  a 
pan — 3  cups  milk  in  all.  Add  5  tablespoons 
sugar  and  34  teaspoon  salt,  and  scald.  Gradu- 
ally pour  hot  milk  into  eggs,  stirring  con- 
stantly, and  add  1  teaspoon  vanilla.  Grease 
custard  cups  and  fill.  Set  cups  in  pan  of  hot, 
not  boiling,  water.  Put  on  middle  rack  of  a 
moderate — 350°  F. — oven  and  bake  30—40 
minutes.  Test  by  inserting  a  silver  knife  in 
center  of  custard.  If  knife  conies  out  clean, 
custard  is  done.  Make  the  day  before.  If  you 
want  to  serve  custards  warm,  set  cups  in  a 
pan  of  hot  water,  but  not  in  oven — they  can't 
stand  any  more  cooking. 

CARAMEL-NUT  SAUCE 
Put  2-  well-packed  cups  light  brown  sugar 
and  6  tablespoons  butter  or  margarine  in  a 
saucepan.  Stir  over  moderate  heat,  scraping 
bottom  of  pan  constantly,  until  sugar  has 
melted.  When  melted,  let  sugar  bubble  gen- 
tly several  minutes.  Heat  %  cup  undiluted 
evaporated  milk  with  ^  cup  water,  mix  this 
(Continued  on  Page  104) 


BEsr 


HslBEKINOT 

miSeilK'Monlftr 


DEE'Ll^HUS . . .  with  plump,  mellow  slices 
of  ripe  banana  to  give  a  new  blend  of  flavors! 


T/\STE-7tAS/W.  ..with  plenty  of  creamery 
butter  and  sugar  and  a  dash  of  spicy  cinnamon! 


.with  tender,  meaty  raisins 
addmg  their  special  tang  to  this  famous  treat! 


.  with  maple  syrup,  or 
with  temptmg  golden  nuggets  of  brown  sugar 


Lll  ABNER  AN'  DAISY  MAE  INVITES 
YO'  T'  TRY  HOT  "CREAM  OF  WHEAT" 
WIF  STRAWBERRY  JAM,  TOO! 


/VtAKJ-STVLE  EAUN'... fried  "Cream  of  Wheat" 
with  syrup  or  honey.  (See  recipe  on  package.) 


I  S.  Pat.  Off.,  Copi 


Syndic 


Wins  cooking  prize  and  meets  Governor 


Prize  Cook  Presents 
Her  Winning  Entry  to  Governor 


Governor  Sigurd  Anderson  of  South 
Dakota  receives  the  entry  that  won 
first  prize  in  the  special  "Governor's 
Award"  cooking  contest  at  last  fall's 
State  Fair.  He  receives  the  entry 
from  the  winner  herself,  Mrs.  Ardis 
L.  Gatons. 

Mrs.  Gatons,  of  Onida,  South 
Dakota,  gives  a  lot  of  credit  to 
Fleischmann's  Active  Dry  Yeast. 
"It  always  rises  fast,"  she  says. 
"Gives  me  really  wonderful  results!" 


Make  Lenten  meals  more  satisfy- 
ing with  deUcious,  yeast-raised  good- 
ies. Now  when  you  bake  at  home,  it's 
easy  to  use  yeast  .  .  .  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast  keeps  for  months 
on  yoiu"  pantry  shelf,  always  rises 
fast.  No  wonder  prize-winning  cooks 
prefer  it — out  of  5000  prize  winners 
surveyed,  97%  use  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast.  So  look  for  the 
Fleischmann  label  to  be  sure  you 
get  the  best. 


REPUBLICS  BREAD  CONTAINER 


Keeps  bread 
fresh  much  longer 
than  other  types  of 
containers.  All  flex- 
ible polyethylene 
plastic.  Also  nice  to 
carry  foods  and  for 
picnics  or  lunches. 
Marvelous  to 
store    food  in 
freezer.  Tight 
cover.  Can  be 
used   as  tray. 
Guaranteed  non- 
breakable. 


REPUBLIC'S 

FREEZETTES" 


for  FREEZING  FOODS 


IGINAL  ALL  FLEXIBLE 


NON-BREAKABLE  FOOD 
.CONTAINERS  •  FOR... 


For  Catalog  Wrilt 

REPUBLIC  MOLDING  CORP. 

Chicago  31,  Illinois 


ECAUSE  hors  d'oeuvres 


BECAl 
hav 


with  gracious  dining  from 
time  immemorial,  Sexton 
searches  the  Seven  Seas  to 
bring  you  the  finest,  most 
delicate  shrimp,  lobster, 
sardines,  anchovies,  tuna, 
smoked  oysters  and  caviar. 
At  the  better  independent 
food  stores. 


John  Saxten  &  Co.,  Sexton  Square,  Chicago.  III. 


NATION'S  FAVORITE ! 
POPS  so  EASY  ! 


■QizmniBimsa 
CAD  IE 


A  Polishing  Cloth  for  every  purpose 


>  Guaranteed  by 
Good  Housekeeping j 


(Conlinued  from  Page  102) 
with  sugar  and  stir  over  low  heat  until  sugar 
is  diss<)lve<l.  Let  mixture  boil  8  minutes,  stir- 
ring often.  Cool  and  beat  with  rotary  beater 
until  much  lighter  in  color.  Store  in  refriger- 
ator. Before  serving,  beat  a  little  more  and 
stir  in  ^  to  1  cup  chopped  walnuts.  Both 
custards  and  sauce  can  be  hot  or  cold,  or 
one  can  be  hot  and  the  other  cold.  If  you 
want  the  sauce  hot,  reheat  in  double  boiler. 
To  serve,  turn  custards  out  on  a  platter  or 
individual  plates,  cover  with  caramel-nut 
sauce  and  garnish  with  perfect  walnut  halves. 

Service.  Obviously  this  is  not  a  meal  for 
buffet  service.  The  main  course  precludes 
that,  because  while  the  pork  is  tender,  it 


ill 


should  be  cut  with  a  knife  and  that  m  I) 
eating  at  a  table  if  comfort  is  to  be  cm 
ered— and  certainly  it  should  be.  But 
problems  there  are,  assuming  no  help, 
easily  solved.  The  soup  can  be  on  the  t 
before  dinner  is  announced  and  the  plan 
platter  of  meat  and  vegetables  will  bei 
ranged  and  waiting  in  the  oven.  This  di; 
so  gorgeous  that  it  should  be  seen  by 
people  who  are  going  to  eat  it  and  there 
it  should  be  carved  at  the  table.  Recent 
had  this  meal  twice  for  guests  and  my  1 
band,  who— as  most  men  do— dislikes  c 
ing,  assured  me  it  was  no  chore  at  all.  I 
pork,  he  said,  sliced  like  butter— someti 
of  an  exaggeration,  I  feel  sure,  but  plea 
words  to  hear. 


SECOND  BLOOMING 

(Conlinued  from  Page  44) 


interesting  to  know  if  his  shoulders  were  re- 
ally that  broad,  or  if  they  required  the  skillful 
assistance  of  a  tailor.  His  hips  were  very  slim, 
and  he  held  himself  as  straight  as  a  grenadier 
on  parade.  His  hair  beneath  the  black 
Homburg  was  a  distinguished  gray,  and  he 
wore  gloves  like  a  gentleman.  A  custom  that 
seemed  to  have  been  forgotten  in  the  fiurry 
of  the  atomic  age. 

In  the  past  Mrs.  Basset  had  spent  much 
time  in  Europe.  As  a  child  and  every  sum- 
mer before  Horace  died  they  had  visited  on 
the  Continent.  Mrs.  Basset  decided  this  man 
came  from  Vienna.  As  the  days  passed  in  the 
emptiness  that  was  New  York  she  specu- 
lated more  and  more  about  the  stranger,  and 
her  curiosity  grew. 

The  morning  of  the  civet  cat's  escapade 
he  spoke.  "Good  morning." 

She  had  been  right:  the  softness  of  the 
Viennese  was  in  his  speech.  Mrs.  Basset 
smiled  because  she  had 
been  right,  and  the  smile 
softened  her  features. 

He  misinterpreted  the 
smile.  "My  name  is  Kurt 
Flanchien." 

Mrs.  Basset  stiffened. 

"I  am  quite  harmless," 
he  said  quickly. 

Mrs.  Basset  said 
nothing.  She  realized  sud- 
denly that  she  was  alone  in  the  park  with 
a  strange  man.  Though  she  ignored  New 
York  and  never  indulged  in  gossip,  still,  one 
could  not  avoid  knowing  that  dreadful  things 
sometimes  happened  to  lone  women  in  New 
York. 

The  man  bowed  with  Old  World  courtli- 
ness. "Forgive  me  if  I  offend." 

It  occurred  to  Mrs.  Basset  that  she  was 
being  quite  rude.  "You  come  from  Vienna," 
she  said  stiffly.  It  was  difficult  to  overcome 
the  habits  of  a  lifetime. 

He  smiled  a  warm,  wistful  smile.  "You 
know  Wien?" 

"Yes."  It  was  a  little  easier  this  time. 
"I've  been  there  often." 

He  nodded.  The  Homburg  in  his  gloved 
hand  tapped  lightly  against  his  cane.  "And 
you  would  be  from  Boston." 

Mrs.  Basset  was  surprised  and  pleased. 
"Yes.  How  did  you  know?" 

"There  is  something  very  different  about 
people  who  come  from  Boston,"  he  said.  His 
speech  was  slow,  slightly  accented  and  very 
correct.  "I  assume  it  has  to  do  with  the 
traditions  of  the  city." 

Mrs.  Basset  was  pleased. 

All  day  she  kept  hearing  Kurt  Flanchien's 
voice  in  her  ear.  It  was  like  a  caress.  It  was  a 
foolish  fancy,  and  she  ridiculed  herself  even 
as  she  indulged  in  it.  She  lived  in  a  curious 
state  of  anticipation,  and  in  the  evening  she 
was  restless  and  her  room  at  the  Plaza 
seemed  stifling.  What  she  wanted  was  for  it 
to  be  morning  again  so  she  could  go  to  the 
seal  pool.  Yet  there  was  no  reason  why  Kurt 
Flanchien  should  be  at  the  seal  pool  the  next 
morning,  and  still  less  reason  why  Deborah 
Basset  should  want  him  there. 

A  woman  like  Deborah  Basset  is  more 
than  a  mere  slave  to  conventionality;  there 
is  a  strain  of  iron,  a  firm  individuality  of 
thought  and  rock-bottom  practicality  that 


It  li  seldom  that  we  find 
out  how  great  are  our  re- 
sources until  we  are  thrown 
upon  them.  — bovee 


has  impressed  the  form  of  Boston  on  < 
ture,  laugh  as  we  will. 

Mrs.  Basset  took  a  hot  bath,  had 
chocolate  feent  up,  and  went  to  bed.  But  e 
as  sleep  came  to  her  came  the  thought  tl  1 
after  all,  she  wasn't  that  old.  It  was  onlj 
Boston  that  a  relatively  young  woman's  I 
was  over  when  her  husband  died  and  cu 
irrevocably  ordained  that  she  become  a  1 
ton  dowager  whether  she  was  thirty-fiv 
sixty. 

Kurt  Flanchien  was  waiting  at  the! 
pool.  "Guten  Morgen,  gnddige  Frau." 

It  was  easier  to  talk  this  morning. 
Flanchien  talked  of  Vienna  and  asked  ah 
Boston.  They  both  spoke  of  the  never-ne 
world  when  they  had  both  been  young, 
somehow  they  were  walking  together  d6 
Fifth  Avenue,  looking  in  the  shopwindoi 
Mrs.  Basset  found  that  as  she  walked  besi 
him  her  step  was  lighter.  They  talked  of  t 
clothes  in  the  windo\ 
Herr  Flanchien  had  an  e 
for  women's  dresses. 

Mrs.  Basset  saw  t 
reflection  of  her  own  figi 
in  the  windows.  Compar 
with  the  slim  manikins, 
-"""^^         looked  .  .  .  well,  Bostc 
The  other  women  on  t 
street  looked  more  like  t 
models.  Mrs.  Basset  look 
hard.  Her  figure  was  straight  and  slender.  I 
lady  allows  herself  to  run  to  fat ;  it  was  t 
clothes  she  wore. 

They  wandered  over  to  Madison  Aveni 
where  the  shops  were  smaller,  more  selec 
Then  Mrs.  Basset  saw  the  dress,  and  h 
breath  caught  a  little  in  her  throat.  He 
many  years  had  it  been  since  she  had  dressi 
for  Horace? 

"That  would  look  very  smart  on  you 
Herr  Flanchien  said. 

Mrs.  Basset  flushed.  "Perhaps.  But  wh( 
would  I  wear  it?" 

"Today.  Tomorrow.  When  the  fancy  toe 
you." 

Mrs.  Basset  shook  her  head.  "My  reli 
tives  would  be  scandalized." 

"Why  not  try  it  on?  This  shop  is  ownc 
by  a  friend  of  mine." 

But  even  as  she  looked  at  the  dress  on  tl 
dummy,  the  dummy  faded  and  Mrs.  Bassi 
saw  herself  in  it.  She  saw  more.  Kurt  Flai 
chien  was  a  refugee.  Obviously  he  did  n( 
work.  Mrs.  Basset's  eyes  were  keen.  H 
clothes  were  good,  and  scrupulously  brush( 
and  pressed,  but  they  were  not  new.  She  w; 
certain  he  was  not  wealthy.  A  ten  per  cei 
commission,  most  likely.  It  would  have  bet 
easy.  Herr  Flanchien  understood  women  ar 
women's  clothes.  A  discreet  telephone  ca 
the  dress  on  the  model  changed.  He  had  c 
rected  their  apparently  casual  walk.  "Th 
shop  is  owned  by  a  friend  of  mine,"  he  he 
admitted. 

Mrs.  Basset  looked  at  him  again.  He  sto( 
beside  her,  tall,  gentlemanly,  casually  lea: 
ing  on  his  stick,  as  if  her  decision  were  of  i 
importance  to  him.  She  knew  a  lot  aboi 
him  by  this  time.  In  the  past  that  was  fc 
ever  dead  he  had  been  a  young  officer  dan 
ing  to  the  lilting  rhythms  of  a  Strauss  wal 
in  a  bright,  gay  uniform.  In  those  days  the 
(Continued  on  Page  106) 


4 


lluskv  snack  for  Lenl! 


topped  with  America's 
handiest,  hest-tastinq 

slices 


e  a  salad  with  one  63^-oz.  can  flaked 
,  2  tbsps.  pickle  relish,  34  c.  diced 
y,  3'i  c.  Kraft  Mayonnaise,  tsp. 
n  juice,  seasonings.  Using  8  toast 
>  (crusts  trimmed),  make  4  sand- 
es  filled  with  salad. 


Slit  a  package  of  Kraft  De  Luxe  Slices 
on  three  sides.  You  have  8  perfect  sand- 
wich-size slices — extra  delicious.  That's 
because  these  slices  are  not  cut  from  a 
loaf  but  formed  as  the  fine  process  cheese 
comes  from  the  pasteurizers. 


Top  each  sandwich  with  a  golden  Kraft 
De  Luxe  Slice.  Notice  how  perfectlj^ 
these  slices  separate — "easy  as  peeling  a 
banana!"  Place  sandwiches  in  a  350° 
oven  until  the  cheese  topping  melts.  Cut 
the  toasted  sandwiches  diagonally. 


Press  the  wapper  aroimd  your  remaining 
Kraft  De  Luxe  Slices  so  they'll  he  readv 
for  another  cheese  treat  at  a  moment's 
notice.  Kraft  De  Luxe  Shces  are  "extra 
good  keepers"  because  their  surfaces 
were  never  roughed  up  with  a  knife. 


J  ()(> 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


March,  195 1 


KEY-TAINER* 

Tote  your  keys  the  organized  way,  in  a  handsome  key  case  designed 

by  the  master  leather-man,  Buxton!  Both  styles  shown  here  give  you 
the  extra  security  of  Buxton's  Free  Key  Return  Service.  An  average 
of  fifty  to  sixty  lost  Key-Tainers  are  returned  to  their  owners  through 
this  helpful  service  every  month!  Keep  your  keys  in  a  Buxton. 
6-loop  zip  style  $2.50,  4-loop  snap  style  $1.50,  plus  tax 

These  Superior  Features,  Too 


♦Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


1.  SAFE  locked  loops  of  2.  EASY  automatic  latch  3.  HANDY  swivel  action 
spring  steel  won't  let  your  pulls  out  to  release  key  in  allows  free  play,  lets  keys 
keys  slip  or  twist  off.         a  jiffy,  snaps  back  in  place,  turn  without  interference. 

BUXTON,  Inc.,  Springfield  1,  Mass.  •  New  York  •  Chieego  •  Los  Angeles  •  Atlanta  •  Dallas  •  Toronto 


{(Simlinued  from  Page  104) 

would  have  been  no  thought  that  in  his  mid- 
dle age  he  would  be  reduced  to  earning  his 
living  by  enticing  women  to  a  particular 
dress  shop.  It  was  sad,  and  yet  as  Mrs. 
Basset  studied  him  carefully  she  could  find 
no  hint  of  self-pity. 

"I  think,  after  all,  I  will  try  it  on,"  she 
said  with  simple  dignity. 

A  French  maid  met  them  at  the  door,  led 
them  to  an  ornate  sitting  room  where  Kurt 
settled  himself  familiarly  on  a  small  couch. 
In  a  moment  Mademoiselle  Claudette  ap- 
peared. She  was  tall,  dark  and  energetic  with 
a  quiet,  deferential  manner. 

Mrs.  Basset  tried  on  the  dress  in  a  com- 
fortable fitting  room.  The  drape  of  the  skirt 
was  lovely,  very  feminine  and  youthful. 

"Herr  Flanchien  must  see  you." 

Mrs.  Basset  hesitated  only  a  moment.  Her 
curiosity  plus  her  determination  to  get  her 
money's  worth  decided  her. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  least  personal  in 
the  way  he  regarded  her.  "Claudette,  lieb- 
ling,  th,re  is  something  the  matter  with  the 
neckline.  It  does  not  do  justice  to  the  way 
Mrs.  Basset  holds  her  head.  And  the  left  side 
is  wrong." 

It  was  not  precisely  what  Mrs.  Basset  had 
expected.  Horace  had  never  seen  anything 
in  a  dress  but  the  color.  And  he  honestly 
preferred  her  in  green,  which  was  not  quite 
flattering  to  her  skin. 

Claudette  pinned  and  altered,  studied  and 
pinned  again.  Mrs.  Basset  smiled.  Kurt 
Flanchien's  observations  had  been  right.  She 
bought  the  dress,  and  she  bought  much  more. 

Afterward  he  suggested  they  go  to  a  little 
place  he  knew  in  Yorkville  where  they  served 
real  Viennese  coffee  with 
whipped  cream  and  a 
linzen  lorle  that  wakened 
memoriesof  another  world. 
The  always  punctual  Mrs. 
Basset  telephoned  her  at- 
torneys and  canceled  her 
appointment  for  that  after- 
noon. 

The  plump  waitress  at 
the  "little  place"  bowed 
a  trifle  too  low  to  please  Mrs.  Basset.  Such 
obeisance  was  reserved  for  the  nobility  of 
the  old  Austro-Hungarian  Empire.  Her 
smile  was  cold.  The  whipped  cream  could  be 
piled  too  high,  even  on  a  linzen  lorte.  If  Kurt 
Flanchien  sensed  her  displeasure  and  sig- 
naled the  girl,  it  was  done  behind  her  back. 

That  evening,  her  room  at  the  Plaza  com- 
pletely disorganized  by  boxes  in  which  her 
purchases  of  the  afternoon  were  lovingly 
packed  in  reams  of  white  tissue,  the  reaction 
continued.  There  was  no  need  to  look  at  the 
stub  in  her  checkbook  to  know  how  much  she 
had  spent.  It  was  more  than  Deborah  Basset 
had  spent  on  clothes  smce  her  trousseau. 

She  lifted  from  its  folds  of  tissue  paper  a 
beautiful,  simple  peignoir.  She  needed  it 
atHDut  as  btadly  as  she  needed  jet  propulsion. 
It  was  quite  apparent  to  Deborah  Basset 
that  she'd  been  had.  The  knowledge  was  dis- 
tasteful to  her.  She  had  permitted  herself 
to  be  picked  up  by  a  stranger  m  Central 
Park,  and  had  been  seduced  into  spending 
a  sizable  amount  of  money  on  a  great  many 
things  she  had  no  use  for. 

Mrs.  Basset  took  a  hot  bath  and  ordered 
hot  chocolate.  But  it  did  not  induce  sleep. 

Shamelessly  Deborah  Basset  admitted 
that  the  thought  uppermost  in  her  mind  was 
that  she  had  played  the  game  badly.  She  had 
bought  everything  at  one  fell  swoop.  Now 
she  would  never  see  Kurt  Flanchien  again. 
What  she  should  have  done  was  to  buy  a 
little  one  day,  a  little  more  the  next. 

In  the  morning  she  dressed  leisurely  in  her 
new  clothes.  There  was  no  need  to  hurry 
down  to  the  seal  pool  this  morning.  He  would 
not  be  there.  Yet  he  was. 

"You're  late  this  morning,  gnddige  Fran." 

"It  took  me  longer  to  dress."  Mrs.  Basset 
hoped  the  flush  she  could  feel  mounting  to 
her  cheeks  was  not  visible  behind  the  smart 
new  veil. 

His  eyes  were  appreciative  as  they  studied 
her.  "Very  becoming." 

Mrs.  Basset  wondered  at  the  lightness  of 
her  heart.  As  light  as  her  steps  beside  him. 


Experience  teaches  us  only 
one  thing  at  a  time  — and 
hardly  that,  in  my  casedirt 


—  MARK  TWAIN  , 


The  clear  fall  air  was  sparkling,  intoxicatinf 
Mrs.  Basset  had  almost  forgotten  what  i 
was  like  to  have  a  man  attentive.  The  ta 
apartment  buildings  that  bordered  the  par 
were  no  longer  pretentious,  they  became  i| 
the  sunlight  airy,  romantic  castles. 

"I  am  so  grateful  that  you  took  me  t 
your  friend's,"  she  was  saying.  "They  ar 
giving  The  Magic  Flute  tonight.  Would  yo 
be  my  guest?" 

The  invitation  frightened  her  once  she  ha 
given  it.  It  was  an  outrageous  thing  to  d( 
But  Kurt  smiled  his  warm,  wistful  smile  an 
bowed  his  acceptance.  ggl 

"And  for  dinner  too?"  ^ 

"If  you  promise  to  wear  the  scarlet  dinne 
dress  you  bought  yesterday." 

Mrs.  Basset  swallowed  a  lump  that  ap 
peared  unexpectedly  in  her  throat.  She  ha 
never  expected  to  wear  that  dress,  and  pani 
touched  her. 

"You'll  have  to  choose  the  place.  I— I  don' 
know  New  York  well." 

"I'll  call  for  you  at  seven,"  he  said,  am' 
smiled. 

But  Mrs.  Basset  did  not  smile.  She  was 
foolish  woman  so  lonely  and  hungry  for  at 
tention  that  she  had  fallen  low  enough  t 
invite  a  stranger  to  be  her  guest.  Th 
knowledge  took  the  warmth  from  the  sun 
shine  and  she  knew  herself  for  what  she  was 
a  rich  and  shameless  woman,  prey  to  th' 
first  flatterer  to  come  along. 

The  scarlet  dinner  dress  was  dramatic  and 
wonderfully  effective  with  her  prematureli 
gray  hair.  In  this  gallant  rag  she  would  pla;, 
out  the  role  she  had  chosen  for  herself,  bu 
tonight  was  the  last  time.  Detx)rah  Basse 
would  go  no.  more  to  the 
seal  pool.  ^ 
Kurt  Flanchien  was  waitf 
ing  for  her  in  the  lobby 
distinguished  and  almos 
unbelievably  handsome  ii, 
white  tie  and  tails.  H 
made  no  banal  remarl 
about  how  she  looked;  hi 
eyes  spoke  for  him.  Mri 
Basset  was  far  too  wel 
bred   to    permit    her    petticoat    or  he: 
emotions  to  show.  She  handed  him  th 
tickets  to  the  opera,  and  an  envelope  con 
taining  ten  twenty-dollar  bills.  Wordlessl; 
he  pocketed  them  in  a  gesture  that  seemec, 
habitual. 

The  simple  act  seemed  to  throw  a  new  an( 
unpleasantly  clear  light  on  him.  Deboral 
Basset  was  no  fool.  The  gentlemanly  Kur 
Flanchien  was  a  professional  gigolo.  It  wa 
too  late  now  to  return  to  her  room,  but  he 
hands  were  cold  as  she  gathered  t'he  ful 
skirt  of  the  scarlet  dress  against  her  am 
took  his  arm.  , 

The  restaurant  was  small  and  she  did  nO' 
have  to  close  her  eyes  to  imagine  she  was  ii 
Vienna  long  ago.  A  gypsy  string  orchestr; 
played  softly  and  the  food  was  better  thai* 
good.  It  was  leisurely  and  perfectly  serve( 
and  Kurt  ordered  well. 

"Not  so  good  as  Rumpelmeyer's,  but  i 
will  do,"  Kurt  said. 

"Rumpelmeyer's,"  Mrs.  Basset  repeatec 
and  the  past  came  back  in  a  rush.  Her  fathe\ 
had  taken  her  there  when  she  was  still  i 
schoolgirl,  and  later  she  and  Horace  had  re 
turned  to  post-World  War  I  Vienna.  ' 

Horace,  young  and  very  Boston,  enjoying 
Vienna  with  all  the  passion  the  guidelxwki 
told  him  to.  Horace  always  admired  the  cor 
rect  things,  but  there  had  been  nothing 
hypxicritical  about  his  enjoyment. 

Kurt  smiled,  and  creases  appeared  in  thf 
corners  of  his  eyes.  "You  remember  Rum- 
pelmeyer's, then?" 

"I  was  fourteen.  My  father  took  me  then 
in  pigtails  and  long  cotton  stockings  and  m> 
eyes  were  bigger  than  Rumpelmeyer's  pan- 
cakes." '  ' 

"Those  pancakes  were  as  big  as  trays !j 
he  laughed.  | 

"  Right."  For  a  moment  she  had  forgotter 
what  he  was. 

"I  was  nineteen  before  that  war.  I  hac 
just  received  my  commission  in  the  Emper 
or's  Own  Hussars.  I  wore  a  gold-and-whitfc 
uniform  and  rode  a  white  horse,  and  was' 


(Continued  on  Page  108) 


I 


Bur- Lines 


\S|  NKiiNlll  1  pioiiiistil  you  we'd  loriiimir 
iIk-  cooking  "(  lies"  w|ii(  |,  iciulcis  liavr  sciil  iiir 
.  .111(1  here  arc  luo  timely  lips  lluit  arc  Inily  liclpliil. 
\\  Ik  ii  scaliiin  lisli,  liist  dip  l.i  i.  fly  in  .s(  aldiiin  v.aici 
.  .  .  scales  (  oiiie  oil  iiiiu  li  easier.  I'o  "(Ir)iir"  foods, 
i(uul)ine  Hour  and  < oiidiiiiciiiH  in  paper  ban  .  .  .  dieil 
,  in  (he  liH'd  .1  lew  pi.  (  cs  .ii  a  lime  and  shake  die  bai;  vii-orousiy.  Now  let  me 
(•  snmc  siiuf^cstioiis  lui  \(uii  .Si)riiii;  shopping  ... 


and  1 11  cslo 


<ceps  lll^Hi>l?'^ 


/KRK'S  r,\C;ri  IN(;  NKWS  .  .  .  ahout  a  marvelous  produ.  1  il,..t  pievetits 
f  leather  IVom  scratching  or  S(  ullinn.  It's  tailed  Kin  i.ON'  .Xciviic  .Spray  ...  a 
r  protective  plastic  coating  that  you  just  .spray  011 
cs,  wallets  and  shoes  looking  as  hiii^hi  us  new! 
think  what  this  moans  with  children's  shoes 
ieularly  .  .  .  since  ihey  cost  .so  much,  ynu  can 
e  them  last  longer  hy  spiaying  the-  sculling  aicas 
!  and  heels)  with  KRVLON  Acrylic  Spray.  I 
find  it  keeps  costume  jewelry  from  tarnishing 
.is  well  as  prevents  metal  objects  from  rusting! 
hei  inore,  harcl-lo-i)olisii  brass  fixtures  and  lamps 
shiny  without  polishing  .  .  .  once  you  coat  them  with  KRN'LON.  ,And  with  its 
■t  pressurized  dispenser,  it's  ABC-easy  to  use  .  .  .  you  just  push  the  button  and 
.omcs  a  line  niisl-like  sprav  of  dear  jjlastic.  KRVLON  is  also  available  in  white, 
linum  and  black  ...  in  all  l)e|),uimeni,  ll.udwarc.  Art  or  .Stationery  .Stores! 
it  .  .  .  it's  wonderful. 


EOPLE  ART.  ALI 
thcv'rc  ill  .\n( 
VVcli  C.ucI  .  .  . 


ALIKE 


ui  one  respei  I  .  .  .  ihey  like  lo  be  rememi)ered  w  hen 
it  means  even  more,  I  think,  when  you  send  a  RL'ST  CRAl  T 
in  fact,  Uiat's  my  favorite  "prescription"  for  cheering  up  both 
my  family  and  friends  w  hen  they're  sick  or  convalescing  .  .  . 
and  just  what  the  doctor  ordered,  in  most  cases,  to  make 
the  patient  happy  .so  he'll  get  well  faster.  And  there's  such 
a  wide  and  wonderful  variety  of  RUST  CRAFT  Cards  .  .  . 
everything  from  clever,  humorous  ones  to  sweet  'n'  senti- 
mental ones  ...  as  well  as  the  cutest  "get  well"  cards  for 
V  NXi.']^  / ^^-<:^ '^'"y  lots  I've  ever  seen.  There's  oven  a  very  special  one  to 
^^xXl''^  bring  a  big,  broad  grin  to  anyone  recuperating  from  an 

'■'^  operation  ...  a  certificate  that  entitles  them  to  membership 

in  "7 he  Mystic  Order  of  the  Itchina  Slitch."  So  be  sure  to  ask 
LUST  CRAFT  Cards  at  your  Favorite  Store  .  .  .  before  you  make  your  selection, 
n  you  see  them,  I  know  you'll  find  .  .  .  they  most  truly  express  rmir  sentiments. 

EAUrV  IS  JUST  ANOTHER  WORD  for  clever  make-up  ...  a  sort  of 
"magic"  touch  that  makes  every  woman  look  lovelier!  So  let  me  urge  you  again 

jse  a  Q-TIPS  Swab  for  every  make-up  job.  You  really  should  .  .  .  for  lliese  same 

ty  little  applicator  sticks  that  are  so  ideal  for  baby  care 

ilso  the  perfect  cosmetic  accessory!  That's  because  they 
soft  cotton  securely  anchored  at  both  ends  ...  it  never 

mes  loose  or  messy  .  .  .  never  leaves  lint.  And  this  makes 

I  so  neat  and  convenient  to  use  .  .  .  for  everything  from 

ying  rouge,  lipstick  and  perfume  to  removing  nail  polish, 

ara  smudge  and  excess  powder.  Q-TIPS  come  in  a 

d-new  pretty  pink  package  now,  too,  with  beauty  "Q's" 

'c  printed  inside  .  .  .  such  makc-you-prettier  tips  as  this, 

istance; 

)Oth  your  eyebrow  line  with  a  dry  Q-TIPS  .  .  .  then,  to  add  lustre,  touch  a  Q-TIPS  end  in 
iantine  and  "apply  gently  to  eyebrows. 

isider  Q-TI  P.S  a  necessity  for  good  grooming  .  .  .  and  once  you  try  them  so  will  you  ! 


PRING  IS 

vour  home, 
with  LADY 


good  supply 
ts  in  colors  . 


IN  THE  AIR  .  .  .  the  best  "excuse"  I  can  think  of  lo  redecorate 
That's  what  I've  just  done  .  .  .  and  I  started  by  "furnishing"'  every 
PEPPERELL  Sheets  in  gorgeous  Pepperell  colors!  They  come  in 
the  loveliest  pastel  shades  I've  ever  .seen  .  .  .  and  arc  excjui- 
sitely  textured,  caressablv  smooth  and  extra  long-wearing! 
I  got  them  in  both  the  LADY  PEPPERELL  Fine  Combed 
Percales  and  PEPPERELL  Quality  Muslin  sheets,  too  .  .  . 
in  the  regular  sheets  as  well  as  the  wonderful  Reversible 
Snug  Fit  Sheets!  These  are  really  perfect  .  .  .  they  not  only 
have  all  the  advantages  of  ordinary  fitted  sheets  (easier  bed- 
making  and  sweeter  sleeping!),  but  are  Yi  stronger  at  the 
seams,  too!  Snug  Fit  Sheets  come  in  sizes  to  fit  single  and 
double  beds  .  .  .  yet  cost  no  more  than  regular  sheets.  So 
.  .  .  of  every  kind!  All  I  ask  is  that  you  insist  on  LADY  PEPPERELL 
.  .  to  make  your  home  "bloom"  with  the  brightest  beauty! 


D  LIKE  TO  INTRODUCE  YOU  to  a  wonderful  new  product... CUTICURA 
MEDICATED  LIQUID!  It  really  works  wonders,  too  .  .  .  in  so  many  ways. 
;  Athlete's  Foot,  for  instance  .  .  .  this  greaselcss,  stainless,  "invisible"  preparation 
3  bring  amazingly  quick,  comforting  relief.  In  fact,  it's  so  , 
lively  antiseptic  it  stops  itching  instantly  ■  .  ■  quickly  relieves    \\ '   .  / 
burning,  tormenting  feeling  vou're  so  anxious  to  "escape"  !  | 
nCURA  MEDICATED  LIQUID  never  irritates,  either^^J''^  1 
but  gently  soothes  discomfort  as  it  speeds  healing  of  raw,  /\ /'i^f. 
I  cracks.  What's  more,  it's  equally  effective  for  soothing /J|  I 
~t  bites  and  externally  caused  skin  blemishes  .  .  .  and  you 
use  it  frequently  during  the  day  .  .  .  for  it  leaves  no  tell-  . 
medicinal  odor  and  can  be  applied  over  or  under  your      /  ' 
e-up!  You  must  try  it  ...  so  accept  this: 
>NDERFUL  OFFER  ...  a  chance  to  get  o  generous  SAMPLE  OF  CUTICURA  MEDICATED 
UID.  It's  yours  for  only  10c.  .  .  write  Nancy  Sasser,  271  Madison  Ave.,  New  York  16,  N.  Y.  today/ 


1)]'  Mniry  Sdsser 


AN  AlA  I.K1I.S1N(.  |'A(.I 


^(K)[)  llfX  SrKI  i.PINf;  IS  A  "BRLI.ZI.  "  to  me  . 

to  m.ike  ihinj^s  Hji.u  kir,  m.ike  'eiti  »hine . . .  i  ihnn  t  jrancr 
ill  half  ihr  tiiiir!  How?  Uy  ii<iiii|>  O-CKI.-O  S|>oii({rii  on  every 
clean-up  liisk  .  .  .ind  ili.ink<i  In  ihrir  fxilunvr  new  "Wairr- 
Hr<  ailiing  A(  lion,"  ihey  make  every  drop  of  water  and  every 
bit  of  siidn  woik  hmdn!  O.i.V.l.-O  S|>onKes  nave  you  money, 
loo  .  .  .  Im-(  aiwe  diey  ii.se  lenn  ho;i|)ii  and  clean.<(er>i  wliile  i  lean- 
ing hfiin.  And  they're  louRh  .  .  .  I>m  oh-no  (;enile!  You  rati 
irusi  ihem  for  cverydiinn  .  .  .  from  watthinn  ditilie*,  wall*  ancl 
window.s,  to  polLnhint;  your  pret  iou.i  iiiiver.  They  \lay  clran.         v  ^    /  , 

loo  ...  a  f|ui(k  rinJM-  in  warm  water  and  they're  like  new  :l  ' 

again.  Cf)me  in  si/cH  10  fii  every  ( hore,  colors  lo  mat'  h  ) 
ev<Ty  room  .  .  .  Meafoam  >?reen,  ocean  blue,  sunrise  yellow 
.shell  |)ink  and  natural.  .So  if  I  were  you,  I'd  jjet  a  complete 
assoriineiii  .  .  .  al  Stores  everywhere.  Rcmemljer  10  auk  for 
0-CI'',L-0,   ihoiigli      .   .   they're  the-  genuine  eeilulose  g|Kjn|{es 


for  r 


( \ 


1^ 


found  a  way 


I  recommend. 


IXC  I 
I  t 


I  ll.M)  .\.\'  that  all  wash  <  loihs  were  alike  .  .  .  bul  that  was  lir/ore 

i<(l  M{)R(;A.N-|0.\I;S  Wash  Cloths!  What's  Sf)  exlra-sfifcial  aljout  them? 

Well,  first  of  all,  they're  scienlifitally  w(jven  of  spedally  !«.le<  led 
lerry  doth  that  uonU  stretdi  .  .  .  ihcy  come  "Ixjimcing  back" 
after  endlcs.s  wa.shings  without  Irjsing  their  sha|x  !  And  talk 
about  soft  and  absfjrlK-nt  .  .  .  why,  MORf;.AN- JONES  Wash 
C:ioths  are  as  soft  as  a  fluffy,  puffy  doud  and  so  ab.wjrijrnt  they 
"drink  up"  water  and  .soaj)  like  magi( .  The  <  r»lors  are  simply 
extjuisilc,  too  .  .  .  muted  pastels  that  give  a  smart  decorator 
f.ok  to  any  bathroom.  .So  ask  for  MfJRf ;.'\N-JONE.S  Wash 
Cloths  by  name  when  you  shop  .  .  .  al  your  Grocery  or  Variety 
Store  or  in  any  Linen  Department.  Just  one  more  reminder  .  .  . 
when  you  shop  for  MORG.AN-JON'ES  Wash  Cloihs  also  stock 
up  on  gay,  colorful  MORGAN-JONES  Dish  Towels  and  Dish 
Cloths.  They're  truly  a  luxury  ...  in  everything  but  price! 

//.\\  L\(;  I  ROUHLF.  with  your  nylon  ho.se  .  .  .  because  they  don't  wear  as 
well  as  they  should?  I  hen  slop  washing  them  the  old-fashioned  way  with  soaps 
and  flakes  .  .  .  start  washing  them  with  that  amazing  new  "foam-wash."  .NYLA.ST! 
I'hat's  what  I  do  ...  for  only  NYL/\ST  strengthens  and 
protects  your  nylons  as  it  washes  them  .  .  .  soaps  and 
flakes  just  can't  do  it.  You  sec,  NYLA.ST  is  made  to 
wash  nylons  only  (nothing  else!)  and  contains  vital 
ingredients  by  Du  Pont  .  .  .  which  coat  each  deli- 
cate nylon  thread  with  invisible  protection  against 
snags  and  runs  .  .  .  and  add  a  tuxurious  softness  and 
smart  dull  finish.  This  isn't  simply  my  opinion, 
either  ...  a  survey  among  thousands  of  women  proves 
that  regular  NYL.X.ST  users  get  an  average  of  IG 
extra  wearings!  So  wash  your  nylons  with  NYLAST 
tonight  and  every  night  .  .  .  see  if  it  doesn't  cut  your  hoeiery  bills  in  half.  I'm  sure  it 
w  ill  .  .  .  my  own  experience  proves  it. 

'H.AT  WOULD  \'OU  SAY  if  I  told  you  that  you  could  turn  thrifty  dishes 
into  company  ir<-ats  .  .  .  and  even  feast  from  lowly  leftovers?  You  can  with 
the  help  of  BinB  Mushrooms  .  .  .  for  they  not  only  add  an 
elegant  air.  but  work  real  flavor  magic,  too!  That's  because 
BinB  Mushrooms  are  picked  at  peak  of  perfection  .  .  .  then 
broiled  in  pure  creamen.-  butter  and  packed  in  their  own 
luscious  broth.  In  addition.  BinB  Mushrooms  "boast" 
^.      \^    e  ^        good  food  value  all  their  own  .  .  .  yet  arc  really  economical 
\^   y.  since  there's  no  peeling,  no  trimming  and  NO  waste!  And 

—  there  are  so  many  ways  to  serve  them  .  .  .  why,  the  list  is 

simply  limitless.  Here  are  3  taste-enticing  examples: 

Dress  up  pork  chops  with  B'"B  Whole  Mushroom  Crowns. 
Dramatize  creamed  hard  cooked  eggs  with  fr'^B  Sliced  Mushrooms. 
Glamorize  Spanish  Rice  with  Bi"B  Chopped  Mushrooms. 

Try  those  and  I'll  wager  you  this  .  .  .  you'll  keep  all  3  kinds  of  BinB  Mushrooms  on 
hand  and  serve  them  difl'erent  wavs  everv-  dav.  I  do. 


and  you 


J NEVER  HA\'E  A  WORRY  in  the  world  about  gravy  failures 
shouldn't,  either!  What's  the  secret  of  my  success?  I 
alw  ays  use  KITCHEN  BOL'QUET  .  .  .  for,  unlike  ordinarv-  rV 
pan-browning  alone,  it  rewards  with  a  really  rich,  deep 
brown,  de-e-licious  gravy  every  time.  Just  a  little  bit  does  the 
irick,  too  .  .  .  and  KITCHEN  BOUQUET  never  adds  a  hint 
of  artificial  flavor.  It  actually  brings  out  the  true,  natural 
goodness  of  meat  and  fowl  .  .  .  because  it's  a  unique  blend  of 
14  choice  vegetables,  herbs  and  spices!  And  I'm  not  the  only 
one  who  thinks  it's  a  "must"  for  making  perfect  gravy 
.  .  .  famous  chefs  and  smart  cooks  have  been  relying  on 
KITCHEN  BOUQUET  for  over  75  years.  So  make  a  memo 

to  remember  it  next  time  you're  shopping  .  .  .  you'll  be  glad  you  did!  P.S.  A  luscious 
KITCHEN  BOUQUET  gravy  gives  leftovers  wonderful  new  taste  appeal  .  .  . 
try  it  with  second-day  meatloaf,  lamb,  beef  or  chicken ! 


108 


I.    \    I)    I     K    S  "        no    M     K       .1    O    I     K    N    A  L 


Easy  way  to  a  naturally  radiant  skin 

QUICK  HOME  FACIAL 
WITH  THIS  4-PURPOSE  CREAM  I 


Now... follow  Lady  Esther  s  super- speed 
recipe  for  true  loveliness! 


ONE-MINUTE  FACIAL 


1.  Smooth  lady  Esther  4-Purpose 
Face  Cream  up  your  neck  and  face. 
Don't  rub!  This  self-acting  cream 
takes  away  dirt  that  can  turn  into 
blackheads  .  .  .  relieves  dryness.  Re- 
move gently. 

2.  Splash  face  with  cold  water.  Blot 
with  soft  towel.  You  don't  need  as- 
tringent. This  4-way  Cream  works 
with  Nature  to  refine  coarse  pores. 

3.  Smooth  on  a   second  "rinse" 

of  Lady  Esther  4-Purpose  Face  Cream. 
Remove  with  tissue.  A  special  oil  in 
the  cream  softens  and  conditions  your 
face  for  make-up. 

4.  Ready  now  to  put  on  your  "face." 

Make-up  goes  on  smoothly  — clings 
for  hours!  You're  really  pretty  always. 


Imagine!  With  one  face  cream 
alone  you  can  give  your  skin  all 
die  vital  benefits  of  an  expensive 
beauty  shop  facial.  Because 
Lady  Esther  4-Purpose  Face 
Cream  all  by  itself  is  a  complete 
beauty  treatment.  In  one  minute 
it  cleans,  softens,  tones  and 
satinizes  your  skin ! 

So  easy  now  to  give  yourself 
a  facial!  Follow  these  simple 
directions  morning  or  night.  In 
the  bathroom  or  in  the  kitchen. 
Or  in  the  washroom,  if  you  work. 
Get  the  Lady  Esther  facial  habit 
for  healthier,  cleaner  skin.  Be 
lovely  to  look  at  always! 


-^/^^^.me^FACE  CREAM 


Lady  Esther  Complete  Creme  Make-up 


Generous 
Compact 

Plus  Tox 
(Slightly  Higher 
in  Canada) 


eamcz>i.Exj 


Absolutely  shineproof,  this  new  make-up 
keeps  you  perfectly  groomed  oil  day.  No 
retouching  for  eight  hours.  Depend  on  Lady 
Esther  4-Purpo5e  Face  Cream  pint  Complete 
Crecne  Make-up  far  all  day  loveliness. 


Etiquette  Is 
yawn  with 
closed. 


"that 


(Continued  from  Page  106) 
just  married.  I  will  never  know  whether 
Vienna  was  really  that  beautiful,  the  music 
really  that  gay  or  the  lights  that  bright,  or 
if  it  was  only  the  illusion  of  youth."  His 
voice  was  light,  and  she  knew  he  was  laugh- 
ing at  himself  and  sharing  the  joke  with  her. 

The  past  he  summoned  up  made  Deborah 
smile.  "I  think  it  was  the  times.  I  don't 
think  the  world  is  so  beautiful  now  even  to 
youth." 

"Perhaps" — he  seemed  to  be  indulging  a 
child— "all  the  past  has  assumed  a  rosy  hue 
for  you." 

Mrs.  BASSET  was  instantly  on  the  defen- 
sive. "And  why  not?  I  was  very  happy  in 
the  past." 

"Only  in  the  past?"  he  prodded  gently. 

It  was  Mrs.  Basset's  turn  to  be  indulgent. 
"Really,  Herr  Flanchien,  surely  you  must 
concede  that  when  a  woman  is  young  and 
loved  she  is  happiest.  And  what  is  more 
natural  than  that  memories  of  that  period 
assume  what  you  call  a  rosy  hue?" 

"Nothing  could  be  more  natural" — he 
bowed  a  little — "or  more  proper." 

"Only?"  Mrs.  Basset  was  not  one  to  give 
up  a  battle  with  but  half  the  victory. 

Again  he  smiled.  "You  are  persistent.  I 
was  merely  thinking  that  besides  the  past 
there  are  the  present  and  the  future." 

The  present,  Mrs.  Basset's  life  in  Boston, 
held  no  secrets  from  her.  If  it  was  not  un- 
pleasant, neither  was  it  pleasant.  In  the 
future,  when  she  summoned  happy  memo- 
ries to  comfort  her  old  age,  the  present  would 
be  barren  ground.  And  the  future?  Mrs. 
Basset  did  not  shrink  from 
the  future,  but  it  held  no 
illusions. 

"Perhaps  it  is  different 
for  a  man,"  she  said 
slowly.  "But  for  a  woman 
of  my  age  the  past  is  per- 
haps the  most  significant . ' ' 

"I  can't  believe  women 
and  men  are  so  different." 

"Then  it  could  be,"  she  suggested, 
the  past  for  you  was  not  so  pleasant." 

He  shrugged  his  broad  shoulders.  "We 
shall  not  match  the  happiness  of  our  pasts, 
you  and  I.  But  even  if  I  see  no  visible  happi- 
ness ahead  of  me,  I  am  not  without  hope. 
For  me  life  has  been  both  good  and  bad— 
and  when  it  is  bad,  I  have  always  the  hope 
that  it  will  be  better." 

"You  are  an  idealist." 

"And  you,  gnadige  Fran,  are  a  realist." 

They  laughed  a  little  with  gentle  mockery. 

"Shall  we  dance?"  he  asked. 

In  Boston,  Mrs.  Basset  no  longer  danced. 
She  had  become  Chairman  of  the  Board,  so 
to  speak,  now  she  chaperoned.  The  waltz 
was  tempting. 

"Please." 

Mrs.  Basset  went  into  his  arms  with  her 
usual  quiet  dignity.  But  what  was  this 
warmth  that  filled  her  at  his  touch?  The 
years  seemed  to  fall  from  her  as  if  they  had 
never  been.  She  followed  him  effortlessly, 
recognizing  that  she  had  never  danced  with 
anyone  who  did  it  so  well.  It  was  not  only 
the  years  that  fell  from  Mrs.  Basset  as  she 
danced;  it  was  loneliness. 

What  was  this  spurious  thing  she  had 
bought  with  two  hundred  dollars?  Had  time 
robbed  her  of  all  sensibility,  was  the  unac- 
knowledged ache  in  her  heart  so  intense  that 
the  boughten  touch  of  a  man's  hand  sent  her 
pulses  pounding?  Even  as  these  thoughts 
crowded  her  consciousness  she  was  aware 
that  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  signaled  that 
no  skillful  assistance  from  a  tailor  was  neces- 
sary. 

Mrs.  Basset  smiled.  One  does  not  despise 
and  reject  the  bonbon  because  it  has  been 
bought  with  thirty  pieces  of  silver.  Need  the 
heart  be  more  finicking  than  the  palate? 
Infinitely  more  finicking,  the  heart  acknowl- 
edged. Knowing  the  extent  of  the  danger, 
Mrs.  Basset  was  more  determined  than  ever 
not  to  go  to  the  seal  pool.  That  this  was  the 
last  time  she  would  ever  see  the  handsome 
stranger  lent  a  delicious  bittersweet  quality 
to  the  rest  of  the  evening. 

In  the  morning  mail  she  found  a  note  from 
Kurt,  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  "You 


EIEIHEIEIEIHEISEI 


learning  to 
your  mouth 

—ANON. 


overestimated  the  cost  of  dinner.  It  was 
Rumpelmeyer's.  Kurt."  A  simple,  busin 
like  note.  A  professional  gigolo  would  h 
been  more  gracious.  Mrs.  Basset,  in 
beautifully  simple  peignoir,  sipped  her  mi 
ing  coffee,  and  at  the  remembered  touc! 
Kurt's  hands  as  they  danced,  shivered  sligl. 
The  morning  was  gray  and  cold,  the  c 
sparkling  air  of  autumn  was  gone.  The  t 
phone  rang.  It  was  her  lawyers  to  say  t 
expected  to  wind  up  the  business  of 
brother's  estate  that  afternoon,  wanted 
to  be  there. 

"Of  course,"  Mrs.  Basset  said  and  iJ 
up.  ] 
She  walked  to  the  window,  looked  dow; 
the  tarnished  golden  statue  of  Shem 
When  she  had  been  in  love  with  Horace, 
had  known  this  joyous  anticipation, 
lightness  of  heart  and  body,  the  pain  of 
certainty  and  self-doubt.  The  pain  withii: 
now  was  more  intense  than  that  of  youth 
now  the  longing  was  accompanied  by 
knowledge  of  how  sweet  love  can  be,  howb 
loneliness.  Always  she  had  assumed  that 
was  the  prerogative  of  the  young.  Appare 
she  had  been  granted  a  second  bloominj 
She  remembered  her  quick  scorn  for  wo 
who  bought  the  loves  of  their  old  age.  \ 
the  pain  within  her  now  she  had  no  si 
for  them,  but  only  pity.  Deborah  Bassets 
in  love  with  Kurt  Flanchien,  and  it  wa, 
admission  she  was  not  proud  of. 

In  the  lawyers'  office  she  signed  legal  i 
after  legal  form  and  knew  there  was  not 
now  to  hold  her  in  New  York.  She  coul' 
back  to  Boston  at  once,  flee  from  this  th' 
to  her  dignity  and  her  peace  of  mind. 

realization  frightened 
Her  life  in  Bos 
stretched  ahead  empt 
the  past  had  been  s 
Horace's  death. 

The  senior  partne 
Higgins,   Higgins,  ' 
loughby&  Barton  wasc 
ogetic.  "I'm  sorry  to  1 
kept  you  so  long  in  i 
York,  Mrs.  Basset.  I  suppose  you'll  bei 
ing  the  evening  train  back?"  \ 
"No,"  Mrs.  Basset  said.  "I  don't  (| 
know  what  I'm  going  to  do."  i 
The  astonishment  in  the  old  face  am 
her.  Perhaps  there  would  be  other  astoni: 
faces  among  her  acquaintances  before 
was  through. 

It  was  no  secret  that  a  penniless  ref 
considered  it  unadulterated  heaven  to  m 
an  American  heiress.  Deborah  Basset,  v 
she  might  not  be  devastatingly  beautiful 
certainly  wasn't  sixteen,  was  neverthi 
acknowledged  an  heiress — money  inve 
in  mills  and  industry.  Money  that  would 
Kurt  Flanchien  the  luxury  he  had  know 
his  youth. 

If  Kurt  Flanchien  was  what  she  suspe 
he  was,  he  would  jump  at  the  chanc 
marry  her.  Even  thinking  about  it  mad( 
palms  of  her  hands  moist,  her  lips  dry.  1 
Basset  recognized  that  she  was  teeterin 
the  brink  of  a  yawning  abyss. 

Characteristically,  Mrs.  Basset  did 
close  her  eyes.  She  opened  them  wide 
stared  down  into  the  chasm. 

If  she  bought  Kurt  Flanchien's  courl 
devotion  and  appreciation  in  the  open  i| 
ket,  who  would  know?  Others  might  susjj 
but  she  could  hold  her  head  high,  imitattl 
bland  stares  she  had  seen  in  other  wonj 
eyes.  If  the  touch  of  his  hand  that  lifteci 
heart  was  a  pseudo  caress,  if  her  love  waS; 
shared,  why,  this  was  a  secret  pain. 

^(Vhat  would  she  give  in  return?  Sea 
seemed  a  poor  exchange.  But  perhaps 
who  had  never  known  insecurity  under 
mated  the  gift  she  gave.  Kurt  Flanchien 
a  charming  and  a  gallant  man,  but  hej 
an  aging  beau.  It  must  be  an  incres 
strain  to  be  always  gracious  to  a  char 
series  of  demanding  women. 

So  Deborah  Basset  faced  up  to  the  j 
lem  of  marrying  a  man  like  Kurt  Flanc 
and  she  knew  that  rationalize  as  she  W( 
the  answer  would  always  be  no.  To  ma) 
man  who  does  not  love  you  is  at  best  a  bJ 
dose.  When  the  man  obviously  wears  a 
(Continued  on  Page  110) 


I-   A    I)    I    i:    S  '       II    ()    \l    I        J    (I    I     K     \    \  1 


I  (»■* 


Hollywoodi  Stars 


AND  FAMOUS  DESIGNERS 


CALL  PLAYTEX  THE  PERFECT  GIRDLE 


VERA  MAXWELL  says;  "I  crcutc 
clollics  lluil  air  fluid,  full  of  motion. 
Playlcx  shows  llicm  al  tlicir  hcsl.  for  it 
slims  you  in  complcic  freedom /"  Playlex 
lives  and  breallies  with  you...  is  invisU 
l)le  under  sleekest  clothes,  for  it  hasn't 
a  seam,  stitch  or  bone.' 


PAUL  PARNES  '  >l. ml.  i m 

is  the  ki  y  to  my  Sprinn  Collection  .  .  . 
and  I'luytex  slims  your  figure  heauti- 
fully  from  waist  to  ihiuh.'"  I'laytex  has 
on  exclusive  all-way  control,  for  it's 
made  of  resilient  fabric  lined  latex  that 
spells  power-control.' 


CLAIRE  McCARDELL  -as-:  '  lb  r<  \ 

a  (Ire.-  of  real  wr-aliiily.  It  b-adii  a 
double  life  ...  at  work  or  play.  And  it 
calls  for  the  world's  tnost  versatile  ^ir- 
die.  .  .  .  I'laytex.''"  All-occasion  I'laytex 
combines  control,  comfort  and  freeilom 
as  no  other  pirdle  can.' 


Oiilv  a  PLAYTEX  Girdle  streamlines 


your  natural  figure . . .  iriches  slimmer! 


WITH  NEW  ADJUST\BLE  CARTERS,  from 

©1953  International  Latex  Corp'n.  .  .  .  PLAYTEX  PARK 


Plavtex  Fabric  Lined  Girdles  from  S4.95 

Other  Playtex  Girdles  start  at  S3.50 
(Prices  slightly  higher  outside  U.S.A.) 
At  department  stores  and  specialty  shops. 
Playtex  k.nown  everywhere  as  the  girdle 
in  the  SLIM  tube. 

.  Dover,  Del.      Playtex  Ltd.,  Montreol,  Canada 


110 


L    \   DIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


If  housework  has  you  hopping  - 

here's  help  / 


Don't  make  big  work  of  the  little 
crumbs  spilled  at  mealtime  or  snack- 
time.  You  can  whisk  crumbs  up  quick- 
er than  you  can  say  "cracker"  with  a 
handy  Bissell  Carpet  Sweeper. 


If  you  despair  over  dog  hair — don't! 
Pet  hairs  are  no  problem  with  a 
Bissell!®  It's  the  only  way  to  slick  'em 
up  fast.  New  Brush-Clean  Combs  keep 
Saran  bristle  brush  free  from  loose  dirt. 


Pon't  vacuum  oftener  than  once  or 
twice  a  week.  Use  a  Bissell  for  daily 
pick-ups.  Your  rugs  wHl  last  longer — 
so  will  you.  No  bear-down.  "Bisco- 
Matic"*  Brush  Action  automatically 
adjusts  to  any  rug  thickness. 


Make  it  easy  for  your  children  to 

whisk  up  their  own  litter  .  . .  with  a 
handy  Bissell!  So  light-weight  it's 
really  child's  play  to  use.  (If  you  have 
an  out-moded  sweeper,  it's  time  you 
tried  a  modern  Bissell!) 


Grand  gift  ideas  /  AM  colors  -  AM  prices  / 

See  your  dealer 


The  "QUEEN" 

New  reigning  favorite,  in  r/c/i 
Coronation  Colors — Regal 
Red,  Regal  Blue,  Regal  Yellow 
$11.9  5 1 


SILVER  STREAK" 

Spruce  Green 
Poppy  Red 

$7.95t 


'VANITY" 

Ebony  Black 
Mint  Green 

$9.95t 


BISSELL  SIVEEPERS 

For  Quick  Everyday  Clean-ups 

*REG.  U.  S.  PAT.  OFF.   BISSELL  CARPET  SWEEPER  COMPANY,  GRAND  RAPJDS  2,  MICHIGAN 


f/l  liltle  more  in  the 
West  and  Canada 


(Continued  from  Page  108) 
tag  in  the  lapel  of  his  coat,  as  she  suspected 
Kurt  did,  it  is  a  thankless  humiliation.  Mrs. 
Basset  was  too  wise  to  try  to  calm  herself 
that  night  with  a  hot  bath  and  hot  choco- 
late. 

Yet  what  did  she  really  know  of  Kurt 
Flanchien?  Wasn't  she  condemning  him 
without  trial,  on  suspicion  alone?  Deborah 
Basset  turned  restlessly.  Was  it  Kurt  she  was 
condemning,  or  herself? 

Mrs.  Basset  had  the  grace  to  laugh.  Obvi- 
ously she  was  going  to  a  good  deal  of  trouble 
to  justify  another  visit  to  the  seal  pool. 

Kurt  Flanchien  was  not  at  the  seal  pool 
the  next  day. 

For  a  week  Mrs.  Basset  haunted  the  spot 
while  her  longing  and  her  desperation  grew. 
This  was  the  last  thing  she  had  expected.  Her 
doubts  dwindled  to  insignificance  beside  the 
possibility  of  never  seeing  him  again.  Pride, 
dignity,  conventionality  became  poor  rags 
to  wrap  one's  loneliness  in. 

^VlTH  the  same  impeccability  of  taste  dis- 
played by  the  civet  cat  in  heading  for  Berg- 
dorf  Goodman's,  Mrs.  Basset  headed  for  the 
dress  shop,  Chez  Claudette. 

"Bon  jouT,  Madame  Basset,"  the  French 
maid  purred. 

"I'd  like  to  see  Mademoiselle  Claudette, 
please." 

"One  moment." 

It  was  more  than  a  moment  before  the 
tall,  dark,  energetic  woman  emerged  from 
the  small  sitting  room.  "Forgive  me,  ma- 
dame,  I  have  a  customer." 

"  I  won't  keep  you  a  minute.  I'd  like  Herr 
Flanchien's  address,  please." 

Mademoiselle  Claudette's  smile  was  dis- 
arming. "He  seemed  a  friend  of  yours.  Why 
should  you  assume  I  have  his  address?" 

Mrs.  Basset  was  disconcerted."  Nonsense," 
she  said  tartly.  "He  said  you  were  a  friend 
of  his." 

The  quiet,  deferential  manner  did  not 
change.  Mademoiselle  Claudette  merely 
changed  the  subject.  "I'm  sorry,  I  have  a 
customer." 

"I'll  wait,"  Mrs.  Basset  said. 

For  a  long  moment  they  studied  each 
other  in  silence.  Then  Mademoiselle  Clau- 
dette said,  "If  you  Uke.  In  the  back  room." 

She  led  the  way  to  a  satin-quilted  door, 
held  it  open.  Mrs.  Basset  passed  from  luxury 
to  the  squalid  workroom.  Dresses  hung  on 
racks,  the  light  was  dazzling,  three  women 
bent  over  their  sewing,  the  French  mai  i  was 
ironing.  Mademoiselle  Claudette  swept  a  j  um- 
ble  of  swatches  from  a  torn  Empire  sofa. 

"Sit  here." 

Then  she  was  gone.  Mrs.  Basset  sat  down 
gingerly.  She  understood  this  change  of  man- 
ner. She  had  lost  caste.  Mademoiselle 
Claudette  considered  her  now  as  an  equal — 
or  as  less.  She  waited  patiently,  unmoving, 
remembering  the  long,  unhurried  hours 
Mademoiselle  Claudette  had  spent  with  her 
when  she  visited  the  shop  with  Kurt. 

The  seamstresses  glanced  at  her  furtively, 
whispered  over  their  work  in  polyglot  French, 
German  and  Polish.  The  maid  ignored  her, 
went  about  her  business  answering  the  sum- 
mons of  the  bell,  bringing  an  armful  of 
dresses  back  from  the  fitting  room,  ironing 
each  garment  before  she  returned  it  to  the 
racks. 

The  afternoon  wore  on.  Finally  Made- 
moiselle Claudette  came  quickly  through  the 
door.  Her  face  was  no  longer  a  polite  mask. 
She  permitted  Mrs.  Basset  to  see  the  strain, 
the  weariness  of  being  always  gracious. 

"Marie,"  she  snapped,  "cafe." 

The  maid  poured*  steaming  coffee  into  a 
cracked,  soiled  cup.  Mademoiselle  Claudette 
lit  a  cigarette,  whipped  out  the  flame  of  the 
match  with  an  impatient  gesture.  Coffee  cup 
and  cigarette  in  one  hand,  she  came  over  to 
Mrs.  Basset,  and  sat  down. 

"  I  did  not  have  you  wait  here  to  be  rude," 
she  said  slowly,  "but  to  show  you  how  we 
live — foreigners  in  your  fine  land.  We  have 
to  work  very  hard.  Now  about  Kurt." 

Mrs.  Basset  glanced  at  the  seamstresses. 

Mademoiselle  Claudette  laughed.  "They 
understand  little  English.  Do  you  think  I 
could  afford  them  if  they  spoke  the  lan- 
guage? They,  too,  are  refugees."  Her  move- 


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1 1 J 


were  taut  and  a  littlu  uKly.  "I  liavu 
,  I   Kurt  almost  twenty  years,  and 
very  fond  of  him.   I  am  not  at 
(  you  understand  liim,  and  fx)r  tliat 
I  I  hesitate  to  ^ive  you  his  address." 
,  Ikisset  sat  very  straif^ht  on  the  lorn 
siip[5ose  you  tell  me  about  him." 
wlrinoiselle  Claudelti' smiled.  "What  is 
i(]  lell?  It  is  the  usual  sordid  story.  He 
mil  Kurt  von  Manchien;  you  can  (ind 
III  the  Almanach  de  (iotha.  At  the 
iiiiiH  of  the  First  World  War  he  was  a 
I  ollicer  in  one  of  Franz  Joseph's  own 
lents,  and  iiappily  married." 
-s.  Hassel  wondered  if  his  wife  was  still 
,  dismissed  the  idea.  He  iuul  not  acted 
1  wayward  husband, 
iter  the  war  he  took  his  wife  to  Paris, 
efu^ees  went  to  Paris  in  lliose  days.  It 
there  that  I  met  them.  I  worked  for  his 
who  had  a  small  shoji.  What  does  a 
IK  odicer  know  about  earning  a  living? 
could  be  a    ta.xi  driver,  a  porter, 
.  you  will.  In  any  case  it  is  not  a  living, 
it  was  a  bitter  thing  for  Kurt  von 
ichien  that  his  wife  must  keep  a  siiop." 
Irs.  Basset's  cheeks  began  to  tingle.  She 
V  now  without  being  told  that  Kurt  von 
ichien  was  no  glam- 
is  and  wicked  gig- 

lademoiselle  Clau- 
e  got  up  and  re- 
i  her  cofTee  cup. 
)uld  you  like  some  ? ' ' 
Irs.  Basset  shook 
head. 

rhose  were  hard 
s  for  Kurt,  because 
had  nothing  left 
lis  pride,  and  every 
his  pride  suffered. 
II  the  war  came 
n.  The  shop  closed 
use  there  was  no 
ness.  They  went  to 
land.  That  was 
1 1  he  one  good  thing 
x.'ned  for  Kurt." 
ie  situation  was 
riorating  rapidly, 
orah  Basset  had 
n  in  love  with  a 
ical,  handsome 
who  played  fast 
loose  with  life  and 
.  Now  she  found 
rasn't  that  at  all. 

•ie  worked  for  the  BBC,"  Mademoiselle 
idette  went  on  in  her  tired  voice.  "For- 
■language  broadcasts,  and  he  was  very 
I  at  it.  He  was  happy,  the  work  seemed 
)rtant  to  him.  His  wife  no  longer 
ced." 

le  ground  out  her  cigarette  in  an  already 
full  ash  tray.  '"Then  she  was  killed  in 
mbing  raid." 

rs.  Basset  took  up  the  story.  "After  the 
he  came  here." 

Fhe  war  was  over,  his  job  was  over, 
■e  was  nothing  for  him  any  longer  in 
)pe.  He  came  to  New  York;  there  is 
ing  for  him  here." 

rs.  Basset  remembered  Kurt  saying, 
len  it  is  bad,  I  have  always  the  hope 
it  will  be  better." 

For  Kurt  you  are  a  great  tragedy." 
lemoiselle  Claudette's  voice  became  bit- 
"  Every  European  likes  to  believe,  de- 
!  all  the  evidence  to  the  contrary,  that 
rica  is  full  of  millionaires.  It  is  a  per- 
nt  dream,  like  a  fairy  tale,  that  we  will 
a  rich  American  to  marry.  Kurt  is  like 
he  rest  of  us,  no  better  and  no  worse." 
lemoiselle  Claudette  swung  her  leg  vi- 
sly.  "For  this  so-called  security  he  was 
y  to  make  a  slave  of  himself,  to  come 
ling  like  a  lap  dog  at  the  beck  and  call 
)me  selfish,  stupid  woman  whom  a  mer- 
Frovidence  for  some  incomprehensible 
3n  had  given  wealth." 

RS.  BASSET  stared  at  her  gloved  hands. 
ce  I  am  a  rich  widow"— she  spoke 
ugh  stiff  lips—"  I  don't  see  why  meeting 
Nas  a  tragedy." 

Vou  are  a  fool,"  Mademoiselle  Claudette 
simply.  "He  fell  in  love  with  you." 


She  let  the  words  fall  in  the  silence,  and 
when  she  went  on,  her  voice  was  alnmsl 
pleading. 

"He  is  growing  old.  This  dream  we  have, 
almost  he  had  it  within  his  hand.  But  he  is 
proud.  I  told  you  all  he  h.id  was  his  pride. 
He  cannot  go  to  the  woman  he  loves  with 
nothing.  This  is  what  we  luiroiK^ans  call  our 
honor."  Her  hand  swept  the  disordered 
nxmi.  "We  live  like  i)igs.  We  have  nothing. 
But  this  rag  of  honor  we  cling  to.  If  he  did 
not  love  you,  it  would  have  Ixen  easy, 
lowing  you,  it  is  imixmible.  Perhaps  I 
should  not  have  told  you.  He  works 
sometimes  for  me,  sometimes  as  a  waiter,  a 
doorman,  a  janitor.  He  does  not  want  to  see 
you    I  have  told  you  why." 

So  that  was  the  way  of  it.  Delxjrah  Basset 
had  fallen  in  love  with  a  janitor.  There 
would  be  raised  eyebrows  and  amusement 
on  the  faces  of  her  friends.  But  this  was  not 
a  man  to  be  lx)ught  in  the  ojien  market. 
In  the  respected  list  of  Basset  ancestors,  tx- 
ginning  with  that  iXH)r  weaver  who  came 
over  on  the  Mayflower,  there  had  been  lx)nd- 
servants,  cabin  txjys,  merchant  sailors, 
|)atriots.  and  at  least  two  horse  thieves. 

Deborah  Basset's 
Yankee  bl(X)d  was  up. 

"One  of  the  very 
nicest  things  about 
wealth,"  she  said  quiet- 
ly, "is  that  it  permits 
you  to  do  so  many 
things."  She  smiled  at 
the  shadow  that  crossed 
Mademoiselle  Clau- 
dette's face. "  You  have 
been  very  frank  with 
me,  allow  me  the  same 
IJrivilege.  I  do  not  mean 
to  buy  Herr  von  Flan- 
chien's  affections  as 
one  would  buy  a  lap 
dog.  But  wealth  makes 
many  things  possible. 
You  may  not  know, 
but  the  Voice  of  Amer- 
ica has  a  very  power- 
ful station  in  Boston 
beamed  to  countries 
bcJiind  the  Iron  Cur- 
tain. I  believe  you  said 
Herr  von  Flanchien 
worked  for  the  BBC; 
that  should  be  suffi- 
cient to  insure  his  ob- 
taining a  position  there." 

Madem(M5e!le  Claudette's  leg  stopped 
swinging. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  reconsider,"  Mrs.  Basset 
went  on,  "and  give  me  Herr  von  Flanchien's 
address.  It  is  for  this,  and  this  alone,  I  wish 
his  address.  Any  further  decision  will  be 
up  to  Herr  von  Flanchien — only  he  must 
never  know." 

"Never,"  Mademoiselle  Claudette  said, 
and  then  she  began  to  laugh.  It  was  gen- 
uine laughter. 

"What's  so  funny?"  Mrs.  Basset  asked. 

"It's  a  love  match!"  Mademoiselle  Clau- 
dette hooted. 

The  laughter  was  contagious,  Mrs.  Basset 
joined  in.  If  Mademoiselle  Claudette  was  in 
love  with  Kurt  von  Flanchien,  she  could 
still  laugh  at  the  comedy  of  Kurt  fleeing 
from  the  woman  he  loved,  who  loved  him  in 
return,  and  at  the  figure  she  cut  in  bringing 
them  together.  Mrs.  Basset  suspected  she 
was  just  that  sort  of  woman. 

Mrs.  Basset  returned  to  Boston  that  same 
evening.  There  were  wheels  within  wheels  to 
be  set  in  motion,  but  there  was  no  hurry. 
Time  was  no  longer  her  enemy.  It  would  take 
a  while  for  a  man  to  regain  his  dignity  and 
self-respect,  to  feel  important  and  necessary. 

Five  weeks  later  Mrs.  Basset's  housemaid 
brought  the  small  engraved  card.  It  came 
sooner  than  she  had  dared  hope.  Her  fingers 
slipped  over  the  raised  lettering. 

The  housemaid  grinned.  "He's  a  very 
proper  gentleman,  ma'am.  If  I  was  you,  I 
wouldn't  keep  the  likes  of  him  waiting." 

"Show  him  up,"  Mrs.  Basset  said,  "and 
Bridget,  in  the  future,  I'm  always  at  home 
to  Count  von  Flanchien."  the  end 


The  Moment  in  Between 

ftv  Ulnnvhf  Ut'Urutf 

She  will  not  seem  to  change. 
She  will  look  the  same, 
But  someone  new  and  strange 
Will  answer  to  her  name. 

As  delicate  a  thing 
As  the  shadow  of  a  sound, 
If  the  song  and  not  the  wing 
Cast  a  shadow  on  the  ground. 
Is  the  moment  in  between 
Childhood  and  the  start 
Of  being  thirteen 
And  discovering  her  heart. 


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II   •>   \l  I 


•    "    I      II     N     \    I  11") 


•lOmtlVKY'.S  K\K 

((  ontinucl  Jmm  J'.it;,-  I  t) 


;ponsibilily,  whidi  resolved  itself  into 
ca  that  it  was  sellisli  to  drive  up  to 
:m  alone.  'I'lie  professor  coining  out  of 
iiildmH  at  this  moment  was  the  one  it 

I  altord  liiin  tlie  most  pleasure  to  take. 
1)^  liis  voice,  lie  called  an  invitation, 
'anl  a  lift,  sir?" 

•  tliin,  clever  face  of  the  professor 

II  toward  the  speaker.  At  last  tlie  old 
:anie  down  the  steps. 

1    tliank  you.  Have  you  room  forme?" 
Icnty,  sir.  Have  you  any  luKKaKC?" 
he  porter  has  it  in  (he  iiall." 
old  Negro  appeared  with  a  small, 
ly  suitcase. 

Iiaiik  you.  Zaciiarias."  Professor  Heards- 
mhied  in  a  pocket  and  produced  a  coin, 
nk  you.  Clood  by.  I  shall  be  back  in 
tiirce  weeks." 

il  slowed  down  as  he  passed  a  tall  man 
iwered  his  voice  to  a  i)itch  suited  to  the 
,  "G(X)d-by.  sir,  and  tiiank  you." 
1,  Saxon?  You  go  off  lo  Africa  in,  I 
a  month?" 
vc  weeks,  sir." 

ve  weeks.  Well,  good  luck  lo  you." 
:ianks,  sir." 

il,  settling  back  for  the  drive,  felt  a 
)f  aciiievement .  1 1  was  a  lovely  day ;  he 
ee  for  live  weeks;  beyond  collecting  his 
al  kit,  he  iiadn't  a  thing  on  his  hands 
I  enjoyment.  There  were  a  great  many 

he  wanted  to  sec,  and  a  number  of 
le  might  take  to  see 
He  thought  it  a  pity 
here  was  no  special 
but  he  had  never 
d  to  single  out  just 
irl.  Once,  when  he 
*Iancy  .  .  .  and  no- 
had  ever  danced  as 
.Carol.  On  the  whole, 
ps.  he'd  got  further 
Brenda  than  with 

ther  girl  .  .  .  and  Ursula  

ula.  At  the  thought  of  Ursula,  a  tiny 
appeared  in  the  day's  sunshine.  His 

Oswald,  he  knew,  had  had  great 
—but  he  was  not  going  lo  marry  to 
;  his  Uncle  Oswald.  He  put  the  thought 
and  addressed  his  passenger. 
30  fast  for  you?" 

ist?  Oh,  no,  no,  no,"  said  the  professor, 
me,  are  you  going  out  to  Africa  by 

0,  sir— air.  It  gives  me  more  time  at 

;y  talked  easily,  and  Paul  had  a  mo- 
s  regret  that  he  was  to  see  no  more  of 
id  man  sitting  beside  him.  The  profes- 
ad  been,  on  the  whole,  a  good  lot,  but  he 
cm  the  first  found  Professor  Beardsley 
to  his  liking.  He  was  on  the  point  of 

I  him  to  pay  a  visit  to  his  home  when 
d  man  spoke. 

shall  be  away  for  the  ne.xt  three  weeks, 
should  like  you  to  come  and  say 
by  to  me  before  you  go." 

II  certainly  come,"  promised  Paul.  He 
1  down  at  the  outskirts  of  London. 
;re  would  you  like  to  be  dropped,  sir?" 
ictoria  Station,  please.  Is  that  out  of 
way?" 

0,  of  course  not." 

il  put  down  his  passenger  at  the  station 
'ent  in  the  direction  of  his  home,  mak- 
1  impulsive  detour  in  order  to  look  at 
vorite  park— St.  James's.  The  spring 
"s  looked  enchanting  and  he  decided 
le  would  drive  his  mother  here  to  see 
It  was  not  far  to  walk,  but  nonetheless 
ould  not  come  unless  he  brought  her. 

father  had  been  dead  for  ten  years; 
had  been  sixteen  when  he  died,  and 
nbered  him  as  being  like  all  the  Saxons : 
luiet,  reserved,  humorless;  and  yet,  he 
'alien  in  love  with  a  girl  more  than 
y  years  his  junior,  a  girl  who  was  in  all 
3  his  opposite.  Bartholomew  Saxon— 
Elaine  Stead. 

wondered  how  much  his  mother  would 
lim  when  he  went  to  Africa.  There  ex- 
between  them  deep  affection,  and  he 


O0O0O0OOOO 

The  truth  Is  that  normal 
men  will  always  be  what 
women  wont  them  to  be. 

—  MARY  ROBERTS  RINEHART 

oooooooooo 


knew  that  he  would  have  a  nap,  hut  hl^ 
mother  had  a  great  many  sources  of  romloii 
Tliere  was  his  Misti-r  I'hilippa,  who  was  now 
eighteen,  and  had  inlierilid  nr)i  only  lui 
mother's  In-auty  but  a  koo*!  nliari-  of  the 
Saxon  common  sens*-.  Since  tliire  were,  in 
Paul's  knowledge,  at  least  three  young  men 
anxious  to  persuade  her  to  le.ivr  her  molli 
er's  home  for  one  ol  her  own.  it  did  not  ap 
pear  likely  that  she  would  Ik-  with  Khiiiu- 
much  longer;  but  if  she  did  marry,  ihere  re- 
mained Harney,  who  was  only  ten.  'I'here  was 
also  Petunia,  ICIaine's  old  .lamaican  nurse, 
who  was  now  not  only  the  cook,  but  the 
family's  self-ap|)ointed  adviser;  Imally,  there 
was  I^>tus.  Petunia's  sister,  as  dark  aH  Pe- 
tunia, and  as  devoted.  While  lliey  re- 
mained and  nothing.  Paul  thought,  could 
ever  move  them  his  mother  could  nol  Ix- 
lonely. 

Whistling  cheerfully,  Paul  drew  up  out- 
side his  homeal  No.  1()  I^)wn(lesCrescenland 
let  himself  in.  Once  in  the  hall,  however,  the 
whistling  stopped  abruptly  and  Paul  edged 
cautiously  toward  the  passiige  leading  to  the 
kitchen.  Pushing  open  the  kitchen  door,  he 
addressed  the  stout  colored  woman  in  low 
tones. 
"Visitors,  Pelsy?" 

Pet  unia  looked  round,  her  face  breaking 
into  a  wide  grin.  "Well,  natcherly,  visitors." 
she  said.  "Your  Uncle  Hugo  and  y'  Aunt 
Louise  -  Miss  Phil's  in  the 
drawing  room  with  them, 
and  so's  Mas'  Barney. 
They're  all  waiting  for 
you." 

The  door  opened  to  ad- 
mil  Lotus,  who  was  carry- 
ing a  tray  of  glasses.  Lo- 
tus grinned.  "You  jes'  go 
on  in,"  she  urged.  "They'll 
all  have  something  to  say 
to  you,  with  your  keeping  it  so  dark.  Go 
on  in." 

Paul  looked  al  her  in  astonishment.  "Keep- 
ing what  dark?" 

The  answer  came  in  the  form  of  a  burst  of 
delighted  laughter.  Lotus  took  from  the  tray 
a  newspaper  that  she  had  brought  out  of  the 
drawing  room,  and  Paul  saw  that  it  was  a 
copy  of  the  Times. 

"There"— she  tapped  it  with  a  broad 
forefinger — "we've  all  seen  il,  and  you 
needn't  go  pretending.  Go  on  in  and  let  'em 
all  congratulate  you." 

To  Paul's  amazement,  she  picked  up  the 
Times,  indicating  an  announcement  in  the 
Engagements  column.  Paul  took  the  paper 
and  read  the  paragraph  she  indicated,  and 
as  he  read,  the  kitchen  seemed  to  perform  a 
slow,  revolving  movement. 

The  engagement  is  announced  between  Sir 
Paul  Saxon,  Bt.,  cider  son  of  the  late  Sir  Bar- 
tholomew Saxon.  Bt.,  and  of  Lady  Saxon,  of  16 
Lowndes  Crescent.  S.W.  1.  and  Helga,  only 
daughter  of  Madame  dc  Brulais,  of  89  Selcourt 
Street,  S.W.  3. 

It  looked  very  nice  indeed,  and  there  was 
only  one  thing  wrong  with  it.  He  had  never 
in  his  life  heard  of  Mme.  de  Brulais  or  her 
daughter  Helga. 

Sir  Bartholomew  Saxon,  eleventh  baronet, 
had  been  the  eldest  of  five  children,  all  of 
whom  reached  middle  age  without  marrying. 
The  Sa.xons,  in  spite  of  their  great  wealth, 
lived  sparingly  and  even  frugally.  To  this 
family,  upright,  deep-rooted  and  rigorous, 
Bartholomew  brought  his  lovely  young  wife, 
settling  her  in  the  Berkshire  mansion;  Os- 
wald and  Julia  had  moved  to  Norfolk;  Louise 
was  keeping  house  for  Hugo  in  Dorset.  From 
these  vantage  points  they  waited  fearfully 
for  the  moment  when  Bartholomew  would 
regain  his  senses  and  discover  where  he  had 
landed  himself  by  the  one  impulsive  action 
of  his  life. 

In  spite  of  gloomy  prophecies,  the  mar- 
riage was  a  happy  one;  Elaine's  sunny  na- 
ture and  Bartholomew's  steady  one  united  to 
make  a  perfect  union,  and  on  her  husband's 
death,  seventeen  years  later.  Elaine's  feel- 


.  Tlie/Vlosf 
'WALKBP  ON 

CARPET  CUSHION 


On  insures 

7  ivay  Carpet  Profecti 


ion: 


Ozite  never  mats  down,  never  wears  out. 

Ozite  is  porous — You  vacuum  more  efficiently,  more  thoroughly. 
Protects  the  underside  of  your  carpets,  too.  Abrasive  grit  never 
collects  between  carpets  and  Ozite. 

Ozite  will  never  trap  or  hold  damaging  moisture.  You  can  shampoo 
even  hea\  iest  carpets  safely  when  they're  cushioned  with  Ozite. 

Ozite  is  permanently  mothproofed... actually  kills  moth  lar\-ae. 

Ozite  is  odorless.  A  patented  "Ozonizing"  process  makes  it  per- 
manently fresh  and  odor-free. 

Ozite  is  fire  and  flame  resistant,  a  safety  factor  that  only  an  all- 
hair  cushion  provides. 

Ozite  gives  permanent  insulation  against  heat,  cold  and  sound. 


Ozite  installed  almost  20  years  ago  in  the 
beautiful  Hotel  Everglades  in  Miami  is  still  as 
thick  and  springy  as  "when  it  was  new,  despite 
busy  hotel  traffic.  Here's  proof  that  Ozite,  The 
Most  "Walked  On"  Carpet  Cushion  in  the 
World,  will  keep  your  carpets  and  rugs  beautiful 
and  new-looking  through  the  years . . .  protecting 
them  against  pounding  heels  and  heavy  furni- 
ture. Ozite  is  often  imitated,  but  never  equalled. 
So  be  sure  it's  genuine  Ozite  you  get. 


Look  for  the  name  OZITE  embossed  on  the  surface  of  the  cushion 


For  name  of  your  nearest  O/.ite  dealer  and  I  rci  illuitraud  UZI  I  L  ijwutv^ct,  '.vritc  OZl  IE, 
Dept.  J-3,  P.  O.  Box  3344,  Chicago  54,  Illinois 


I  16 


I ,     \    I )     I     I;     >  1 1     I  >     M     r,        .1     ( >     I      li     \     \  I 


\.<inb,  1953 


DON'T  tHOKE"SKIN  GLANDS 
WITH  DULL  DEAD  SKIN  CELLS! 


1-MINUTE  MASK 
DISSOLVES  OFF  DEAD  PARTICLES. 
LEAVES  YOUR  FACE  CLEARER, 
BRIGHTER,  SOFTER! 

Your  skin  is  constantly  renewing  itself.  Every  day 
fresh,  new  cells  are  building  up  from  beneath.  And  old, 
used-up  dead  cells  are  being  cast  off  from  the  outer 
layers  of  the  skin. 

But  some  skins  are  slower  at  "sloughing  off"  the 
flaky,  dead  skin  cells.  These  dry  particles  accumulate  on 
the  skin  surface — layer  upon  layer — until  they  begin  to 
"choke"  the  tiny  sebaceous  and  sweat  glands.  Your  skin 
begins  to  look  dull,  flaky — and  worst  of  all,  pore 
openings  begin  to  enlarge  .  .  .  blackheads  are  apt  to 
appear.  Your  skin  takes  on  a  drab,  not  quite  clean  look. 

Now — Pond's  brings  you  a  special  at-home  treatment 
to  helip-»peed  up  a  too-slow  sloughing  off"  of  dead  skin 
debris.  This  remarkable  treatment  is  the  1-Minute  Mask 
of  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream.  It's  quick.  It's  easy. 
And  it's  amazingly  eff^ective. 


Just  spread  a  cool  Mask  of  Pond's 
Vanishing  Cream  lavishly  over  your 
lace — evervthhig  hut  your  eyes. 
Leave  this  snowy  Mask  on  for  one 
full  minute.  The  "keratolytic" 
action  of  tlic  Cream  loosens  stub- 
born clinging,  dead  skin  cells — 
actually  dissolves  them  off!  Frees  the 
tiny  openings  of  your  skin  glands 
so  they  can  function  normally 
again.  Now — after  just  60  seconds 
— tissue  clean.  How  delightfully 
fresh  and  tingling  your  skin  feels. 
How  much  brighter  it  looks. 


Smoother 


clearer 


lighter! 


Always  before  you  go  out — give  yourself  a  1-Minute  Mask  with 
Pond's  Vanishing  Cream.  A  Mask  two  or  three  times  a  week 
will  help  keep  your  skin  at  its  loveliest. 

use  a  thin,  thin  film  o[  greaseless  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream  for 
a  more  natural,  fine-textured,  smoother  powder  base! 


ings  for  liim  were  still  strong  enough  to  leave 
her  for  a  time  in  a  state  of  misery  and  be- 
wilderment. 

She  was  left  witfi  three  children  and  at- 
tempted, without  success,  to  accustom  her- 
self to  life  in  the  large,  comfortless  house 
without  Bartholomew's  presence.  At  last  she 
decided  to  move  to  Lx)ndon  and,  in  spite  of  a 
shower  of  protests  from  her  brothers-  and 
sisters-in-law,  she  bought  a  large,  pleasant 
house  in  Lowndes  Crescent. 

Julia  and  Oswald  seldom  came  to  London; 
between  them  and  Elaine  there  was  little 
cordiality.  With  Louise  and  Hugo,  on  the 
other  hand,  she  was  on  much  warmer  terms. 
They  had  come  to  London  a  few  years  after 
Elaine,  and  had  bought  the  house  next  door. 

Elaine  grew  fond  of  L-ouise.  She  liked  her 
blunt  honesty  and  admired  her  sound  com- 
mon sense.  For  Hugo  she  had  always  felt  an 
afTectionate  pity,  for  Hugo  had  lost,  at  the 
outset  of  a  promising  military  career,  the  ar- 
rogance and  self-confidence  that  character- 
ized mos  of  the  Saxons.  Exactly  what  had 
happened,  Elaine  did  not  know.  There  had 
been  a  breath  of  scandal,  quickly  hushed; 
Hugo,  who  had  been 
serving  in  Burma, 
was  recalled  and,  a 
short  time  later,  had 
sent  in  his  papers 
and  settled  down  to 
civilian  life.  Nobody 
ever  spoke  of  the 
unhappy  incident, 
but  Elaine  saw  its 
effects  in  Hugo's  re- 
nunciation of  his 
place  as  elder 
brother,  and  Os- 
wald's accession  to 
a  position  from 
which  he  felt  enti- 
tled to  dictate  to 
the  family  A  gen- 
eral, long  retired, 
Oswald  now  as- 
sumed command, 
and  whenever  an  op- 
portunity occurred 
issued  orders.  Lou- 
ise and  Hugo  bore 
his  overbearing 
manner  in  grim  si- 
lence, and  Elaine 
and  her  family  bore 
it  with  their  charac- 
teristic equanimity. 

When  the  news  of 
Paul's  engagement  burst  on  the  family,  it 
appeared  likely  that  Oswald's  feelings  would 
have  to  be  shown  more  consideration.  Ten 
minutes  after  reading  it,  Paul  had  resolved 
to  go  to  the  address  in  Selcourt  Street  and 
confront  the  unknown  Mme.  de  Brulais  and 
her  daughter.  Hugo,  however,  had  begged 
him  to  wait. 

"This  isn't  a  matter  solely  between  you 
and  this  Mme.  de  Brulais,"  pointed  out 
Hugo.  "There's  probably  blackmail  behind 
it,  and  all  sorts  of  complications.  You  can't 
act  alone— you've  got  to  have  backing:  legal 
backing;  family  backing." 

"You  mean  Uncle  Oswald,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes,  I  do.  He'll  give  you  good  advice, 
and  if  I  were  you,  I'd  take  it.  I  suppose 
you're  quite  certain  that  you  never  by  any 
chance  " 

"I  never  even  heard  of  them  before," 
stated  Paul  for  perhaps  the  twentieth  time. 
"  If  you'll  only  let  me  drive  round  there  and 
see  " 

"No,  I  can't  stop  you,"  said  Hugo.  "I 
can  only  tell  you  what  I  think's  best.  Your 
Uncle  Oswald  will  get  here  as  soon  as  he  can ; 
wait  and  at  least  hear  what  he's  got  to  say." 

"  I  know  exactly  what  he'll  say,"  said  Paul 
broodingly.  "I  can  hear  him  saying  it." 

Oswald  was  at  that  moment  saying  it  to 
his  sister  Julia.  The  news  of  Paul's  engage- 
ment came  in  the  nature  of  a  thunderbolt.  To 
his  general  distrust  of  a  fiancee  who  was  un- 
able to  produce  a  father  there  was  added  a 
particular  and  bitter  disappointment:  Paul's 
failure  to  marry  the  girl  picked  out  by  Os- 
wald as  the  perfect  bride. 


The  Honorable  Ursula  Hannington  had 
more  than  birth  and  beauty  to  recommend 
her :  she  was  the  daughter  of  Lord  Quillerby, 
who  was  one  of  Oswald's  oldest  friends;  Os- 
wald was  godfather  to  both  Ursula  and 
Paul.  He  had  followed  their  friendship  with 
keen,  though  veiled,  interest.  To  open  his 
newspaper  and  be  confronted  by  the  an- 
nouncement of  his  nephew's  engagement  to  a 
woman  nobody  had  ever  heard  of  roused  him 
-to  a  fury  which  could  be  allayed  only  by 
action. 

He  went  up  to  London  that  evening  and, 
early  on  the  following  morning,  marched— 
tall,  distinguished,  plainly  outraged — up  the 
steps  of  No.  16.  In  the  drawing  room  he 
found  Elaine  and  her  three  children,  and 
Hugo  and  Louise ;  ten  minutes  later,  he  was 
in  possession  of  all  the  astounding  facts. 

"You  mean  to  tell  me"— General  Saxon 
was  plainly  prepared  to  place  little  credit  on 
the  reply — "that  you  have  no  knowledge  of 
this  girl  or  of  her  family?" 

"None."  Paul  spoke  with  a  certain  terse- 
ness. "I've  told  you;  none  whatsoever." 

"My  dear  fellow,  you  must  try  to  remem- 
ber," said  the  general,  a  shade  testily.  "There 
must,  at  some  time, 
have  been  this  girl, 
this— er— Helga, 
You  met  her;  you 
paid  her,  perhaps, 
some  attention,  and 
you  forgot  her.  You 
must  cast  your  mind 
back." 

"  I've  cast  it,  "said 
Paul.  "I've  cast  it 
back  as  far  as  the 
time  I  was  twelve 
and  chased  Patty 
O'Connel  up 

the  " 

"Well,  the  thing 
we've  got  to  do," 
said  Oswald,  "is  to 
find  out  who  put  in 
this  announcement, 
and  what  they  hope 
to  gain  by  it.  What 
steps  have  any  of 
you  taken?" 

There  was  no  re- 
ply. Nobody  had 
taken  any  steps. 

"Now  come  on, 
come  on,"  raged  the 
general.  "Surelyone 
of  you  might  have 


Next  Month 


HUMAN  love  is  proud — hiil 
lives  on  leiideriiess.  How  roiilil 
Benjy  Davis — even  in  his  stub- 
bornness—  and  Cainden  Davis, 
even  in  pride,  forget  what  hate  and 
sorrow  had  done  before  .  .  .  and 
what  love  could  give  them  now? 
But  Benjy's  terrible  words  pierced 
deep,  and  Camden  had  no  choice 
but  to  go  aw  ay.  Three  years  passed 
in  silence — and  Benjy  bad  not  even 
seen  his  own  child. 

(lould  two  such  willful  young 
ones  ever  forget ...  or  (ind  the  ten- 
derness to  bind  them  close  again? 

THE  DAUGHTER  OF 
BUGLE  ANN 

By  MacKiulay  Kanlor 

eomplele  in  the  April  JOURNAL, 
condensed  from  the  novel  soon  to 
he  published  bv  fiandom  House. 


had  the  wit  to  take 
one  step  in  a  forward  direction  ?  Two  things 
must  be  done:  three,  in  fact.  First,  some- 
body must  find  out  who  signed  the  letter 
to  the  Times.  I  shall  do  it  myself,  this 
morning.  The  next  thing  is  to  see  some- 
one at  Scotland  Yard— quite  unofficially— to 
find  out  how  one  deals  with  cases  of  this  sort. 
It  might  be  some  form  of  blackmail." 

"Nobody,"  said  Paul,  "has  anything  to 
blackmail  me  about." 

"Nobody  would  go  to  these  lengths,'' 
pointed  out  the  general,  "unless  they  hoped 
to  gain  something — unless  they  were  certain, 
in  fact,  that  they  had  something  to  gain.  I 
do  not,"  he  went  on  generously,  "question 
the  truth  of  your  statement  when  you  say 
you  never  met  this  girl;  but  I  do  question  its 
accuracy.  It's  very  easy  for  a  young  man  to 
forget — a  young  man,  that  is,  of  your  type.' 

"There  was  never  any  Helga,"  reiterated 
Paul.  "It  isn't  a  name  one  would  forget.  I 
might  let  a  few  Susans  or  Marys  slip  out  of 
my  consciousness — but  a  Helga,  no." 

"KVell,  we  won't  argue  about  this,"  said 
his  uncle.  "We  shall  act.  I  shall  go  to  the 
Times  and  then  I  shall  look  in— quite  infor- 
mally—on Douglas  Warwick  of  Scotland 
Yard.  I  shall  tell  him  the  facts  and  ask  for 
his  advice.  Now  the  third  thing.  I  think  you'd 
better  tackle  this,  Hugo." 

"Well?"  asked  Hugo. 

"Obviously,"  said  the  general,  "these  peo- 
ple must  be  investigated.  They  know  we've 
read  this  notice,  and  they'll  certainly  be 
waiting  for  us.  Paul  will  have  to  go,  of 
course,  but  he  mustn't  go  alone." 

(Continued  on  Pane  118) 


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M     I:        .1     <)     L     K     \    A  L 

(Continued  fro?n  Page  116) 

"  Why  not?  "  inquired  Paul.  "  I'm  the  only 
one  she's  engaged  to." 

"  Flippancy,"  said  the  general  coldly,  "will 
get  you  nowhere.  Don't  you  realize  what 
these  people  have  done?  They've  used  your 
name— W.V  name— o?<r  name  to  fabricate 
this  connection  between  you— you ! —  and  a 
woman  who  might  be  anybody — anything. 
Do  you  understand  what  kind  of  women 
these  might  be?" 

"Well,  let's  go  and  find  out,"  said  Paul. 
"Uncle  Hugo,  how  you  feel  about  coming?" 

Hugo  rose  to  his  feet.  "  I  feel  extremely  un- 
willing," he  stated,  "but  I'll  come." 

"And  Louise  should  go,  too,"  said  the 
general. 

"Me!"  gasped  his  sister  in  astonishment. 

"This,"  said  Oswald  magisterially,  "is  a 
family  matter.  Paul  must  go  and  see  these 
people;  he  takes  with  him  not  a  lawyer, 
which  would  look  as  if  he  came  prepared 
for  trouble,  but  an  uncle  and  aunt.  Paul  and 
Hugo  can  be  tackled;  if  they've  got  Louise 
with  tl  am,  they  take  half  the  wind  out  of 
these  people's  sails  at  once." 

"I  rather  agree  with  that,"  said  Elaine 
gently.  She  was  feeling  very  happy;  they 
were  all  going  away.  She  and  Philippa  and 
Barney  would  at  last  be  left  in  peace. 

"We  shall  go  in  my  car,"  said  Hugo  to 
Paul.  "You  can't  expect  your  aunt  to  travel 
in  yours." 

"Certainly  not — I'm  not  an  acrobat,"  said 
Louise.  "We  shall  go  in  our  own." 

"  It  might  be  best,"  said  Paul,  "if  we  each 
went  under  our  own  steam.  I  shan't  be  com- 
ing back  here  to  lunch, 
and  if  I've  got  my  own 
car,  I'll  be  able  to  go 
straight  on." 

It  was  agreed  that  both 
cars  should  be  taken,  and 
the  missionaries  prepared 
to  set  out.  The  general 
walked  with  Paul  to  his 
car.  "  D'you  know  the  way 
to  Selcourt  Street?" 

"  I  know  one  end  of  it,"  said  Paul. 

"Everybody  knows  one  end  of  it,"  said 
Oswald  gloomily.  "One  end  of  it's  all  right- 
comes  into  Blenheim  Square.  If  Number 
eighty-nine  is  at  that  end,  it  won't  be  too 
bad.  If  it's  the  other  end,  then  I  don't  know." 
He  shook  his  head  in  foreboding. 

"What's  the  other  end?"  asked  Paul. 

"The  other  end  tails  off  to  God  knows 
where — Pimlico,  eventually,  I  believe."  The 
general  shuddered.  "Keep  your  head  when 
you  get  to  this  place,  and  if  there's  straight 
talking  to  be  done,  let  your  Uncle  Hugo 
do  it." 

"I  will.  Oh,  incidentally  — — "  Paul  hesi- 
tated. 
"WeU?" 

"Oh,  nothing.  It  was  just — well,  it  struck 
me  that  I'm  going  away  for  a  pretty  long 
time,  and  I  mightn't  get  another  chance  to 
ask  you— to  ask  you  privately,  that  is." 

"Ask  me  what?" 

"About  Uncle  Hugo,"  said  Paul.  "I've 
often  wondered  what  it  was  that  happened  to 
him— years  ago,  in  Burma.  The  family  ru- 
mors never  made  much  sense,  and  lately  I 
asked  mother,  but  she  doesn't  know." 

IVoBODY  knows."  The  general  spoke 
moodily.  "It  seems  to  me  that  at  a  crucial 
time  in  a  man's  life,  he  ought  to  know  what's 
happening  to  him.  But  Hugo  didn't  know — 
or  says  he  didn't.  One  moment  he  was  out  in 
Burma  doing  splendidly— due  for  promotion; 
the  next  thing,  he's  accused  of  something 
shady  in  connection  with  a  Burmese  girl. 
Nothing  much  to  go  on— I  saw  every  officer 
I  could  get  in  touch  with,  as  soon  as  they 
all  got  back  to  this  country,  but  nobody 
knew  anything." 

There  was  a  short  silence.  Paul  hunched 
his  shoulders.  "Damn  bad  luck,"  he  com- 
mented. 

"Quite." 

"Can  I  drop  you  anywhere?"  asked  Paul. 

"No— I'll  go  in  and  talk  things  over  with 
your  mother." 

Paul  drove  away  reluctantly.  He  disliked 
his  errand  and  he  disliked  his  uncle.  "Inter- 
fering old  busybody,"  he  muttered. 


March.  19,- 

No.  89  was  not  at  the  right  end  of  Selcoui : ' 
Street,  and  Oswald's  gloomy  prognostic; i 
tions  regarding  the  other  end  were  more  tha  i 
fulfilled.  From  gentility,  Selcourt  Street  slj/ 
into  shabbiness.  No.  89,  when  the  two  car 
drew  up  to  it,  proved  to  be  no  better  than  i 
deplorable  neighbors,  and  Paul,  looking  i, 
the  house,  realized  for  the  first  time  tli  i 
seriousness  of  his  situation. 

"Look  at  it,"  urged  Louise,  still  seatfe 
in  the  car.  "Can  you  believe  that  anybdl- 
inside  that  house  has  ever  heard  oi  theTima 
let  alone  being  capable  of  drafting  a  now 
that  the  Times  would  accept?"  ■ 

It's  a  large  house,"  said  Paul,  who  m 
taking  in  details.  "It's  got  cards— or  at^ 
rate,  bits  of  cardboard— stuck  beside  It 
front  door,  with  names  on  them." 

"Rabbit  warren,"  said  Hugo  grimly.  "G 
and  see  if  De  Brulais  is  among  them." 

Paul  walked  up  the  inhospitable  path  an 
studied  the  array  of  cards.  Most,  it  seema 
were  foreign.  He  ran  an  eye  along  then 
Goldstein,  Emblatt,  Kroner,  Koenig.  Wyat " 
de  Witt  and — ah,  here  it  was!  Blotted,  ui 
clean,  smirched,  but  perfectly  legible: 

Madame  de  Brulais  ^ 
Fortunes 

Monday  Wednesday  Frida 

Fortunes !  Madame  de  Brulais.  Helga,  m 

daughter  of  Madame  de  Brulais   j 

Paul  stared  at  the  card,  his  mind  workin! 
swiftly.  This  was  more  than  any  of  then 
had  bargained  for.  He  turned  and  walke' 
to  where  the  cars  waitec 
"This  is  the  place,"  V 
said.  "Mme.  de  Brulais 
a  fortuneteller." 

"A  I  "  Wore 

failed  Louise.  Hugo  pi 
out  a  hand;  she  graspei 
it  automatically  ani 
stepped  out  of  the  car. 

The  three  walked  to  tli  i 
front  door.  Paul  looked  fc 
a  bell  near  Mme.  de  Brulais'  name,  an 
found  none;  he  selected  the  nearest  an 
kept  his  finger  on  it  for  some  time. 

There  was  no  response.  Sounds  came  froi  1 
within  the  house — voices,  thumps,  the  thij 
sound  of  a  violin,  the  scrape  of  chairs  acroi  | 
a  floor.  It  was  plain  that  the  inmates  wei 
alive  but  uninterested;  nobody,  it  seemec; 
was  going  to  answer  the  door.  At  last  Pai 
pushed  it  and  it  yielded — revealing  an  inn( 
door;  he  grasped  the  knob  and  opened 
slowly  and  looked  into  a  large,  dark  hall. 

"We'll  go  in,"  he  said,  ushering  his  aur 
and  uncle.  "  I'll  knock  on  one  of  these  dooi 
and  see  what  prize  we  draw." 

He  crossed  the  hall  and,  stopping  befoi 
an  imposing  double  door,  rapped  sharpl 
upon  it.  There  was  a  second's  pause,  an 
then  a  loud  hail  came  from  within. 
"Who  is  that  there?" 
It  sounded  like  a  man's  voice,  but  it  wa 
difficult  to  tell;  it  was  deep,  sonorous  an 
full-throated,  and  the  accent  was  foreigr 
Paul  raised  his  hand  and  knocked  once  morf 
and  the  next  instant  the  door  opened  and  h 
took  two  hasty  steps  backward. 

A  woman  stood  in  the  doorway — she  was 
without  exception,  the  most  magnificeni 
specimen  of  womanhood  Paul  had  ever  seer 
She  was  as  tall  as  he  was — he  stood  six  fee 
one — and  she  was  of  enormous  girth.  Sh 
was  dressed  in  garments  that  compromise 
fairly  between  the  fashion  of  yesterday  am 
today,  and  between  the  sober  garb  of  morn 
ing  and  the  finery  of  evening.  Her  skin  wa 
dark;  there  were  streaks  of  gray  in  her  hai 
and  she  stared  at  Paul  out  of  a  pair  of  small 
keen,  dark  eyes.  She  was  a  striking  am 
spectacular  figure,  but  nobody  could  hav 
applied  to  her  the  term  "neat"  or  " cleanly. | 
Having  flung  open  the  door,  she  gave  vent  aj 
once  to  a  rapid  flow  of  words. 

"You  want  someone?  Tell  me — tell  m| 
soon  and  then  I  can  say,  or  not  say,  and  thei 
all  this  knock,  knock,  knock  will  stop  and  - 
can  get  on  with  what  I  was  doing,  no?" 

"I'm  sorry  to  give  you  this  trouble,"  Pau 
said.  "  We're  looking  for  a  Mme.  de  Brulais.^ 
"How  'a'  Mme.  de  Brulais?"  demand© 
the  woman.  "How  many  De  Brulais  ar 


SH  m  mn  nn  nm  jm  nn  m  in  ^ 

Few  men  are  so  clever  as 
to  know  all  the  mischief 
they  do. 

—LA  ROCHEFOUCAULD 


I 


...  of  genuine  brown 
steerhide  with 
handtooled  design 
and  hand  lacing. 
Adjustable  shoulder 
strop,  Some  bogs  in 
smooth,  saddle- 
finished  leather.  .  .  . 
Various  Prices,  at 
Dealers  Everywhere. 


MEEKER    COMPANY,    iOPLIN,  MO. 
New  York;  347  Fifth  Ave. 


lliere.  since  you  want  only  one?  I  Jo  you 
l<now  many  who  are  called  Mmc.  de 
Hrulais?" 

"I  don't  know  any,"  said  Paul,  'Tm 
looking  for  a  Mtne,  de  Brulais  who  lives  al 
luiiiilMi  eiKlily-inne  Selcourl  Street.  Can 
you  tell  ine  which  room  she's  in?" 

"She's  in  this  r<xjin  and  she  won't  see 
you,"  came  the  answer  on  the  instant,  "She 
won't  see  anylxKjy.  Can't  you  read?  Mon- 
days. Wednesdays.  Fridays.  Today  is  Satur- 
day did  you  see  anything  alxjut  Saturday? 
(>o  away  and  come  hack  next  week," 

"Will  you  kindly  tell  Mrne,  tie  Hrulais," 
said  I'aul  firmly,  "thai  we  must  see  her 
today," 

"Today  is  Saturday,  and  there  is  no  busi- 
ness today.  I  /"  she  IhumiH'd  her  massive 
chest  "  I  am  Mme.  de  Ikulais  and  I  will  see 
you  on  Monday  all  of  you,  hut  I  do  not 
like  three  at  one  lime.  One  at  a  time,  hut  if 
you  want  three.  I  charge  for  three  and  not 
for  one  onrfy ! " 

Paul  was  staring  al  her.  oi)en-moulhed. 
This— this  Well.  perhai)s  it  wasn't  so 
remarkable.  She  l(K)ked  every  inch  every 
yard  a  Madame  de  Hrulais.  Fortunes.  And 
she  liad  a  dauuhter  Ilelna  and  she  had  had 
the  colossal  effrontery 

"We  must  see  you  today,"  he  said.  "On 
uinenl  business." 

liefore  she  could  reply,  he  had  swept  I  Iu^^<) 
and  Louise  into  the  circle  of  his  arm  and  was 
sliepherdioK  I  hem  before  him.  Paul  ^ol  his 
relations  inside  and  closed  the  df>or  behind 
him.  Mmc.  de  Brulais.  her  eyes  Klinlinn  with 
anther,  made  her  way  round  the  cowering 
Louise  and  thrust  her  face  close  to  Paul's. 

"You  understand.  I  make  it  plain— I 
charRc  for  three.  And  on  days  when  there  is 
no  business,  it  is  double  the  charfje." 

"  Pm  sure  il  is,"  said  Paul.  He  was  survey- 
ing.  his  surroundings,  and  his  eyes  widened 
every  moment. 

They  were  in  a  large  room  in  which,  il  was 
clear.  Mine,  de  Brulais  spent  not  only  her 
days  but  also  her  nights.  Undergarments, 
ornaments  and  utensils  huddled  together,  in 
embarrassed  proximity;  Mme.  de  Brulais. 
making  her  way  through  the  litter,  cleared 
three  chairs  and  waved  her  visitors  to  them. 
Walking  across  the  room,  she  seated  herself 
behind  a  small  table  on  which  was  draped  a 
heavy  cloth. 

"One  will  have  to  be  first."  she  stated. 
"First  that  lady  and  then  " 

Paul  made  an  attempt  to  stem  the  stream 
of  words.  "  I  don't  think  you  understand  who 
we  are."  he  began,  "We  " 

"Who  you  are?  Who  you  are?  What  is  all 
this  'who  we  are'?"  demanded  Mme.  de 
Brulais  irritably,  "You  shall  tell  me  noth- 
ing; I  shall  know  nothing,  and  you  will  see 
what  I  shall  tell  you.  Now.  Do  not  speak." 

^HE  swept  the  cloth  from  the  table,  reveal- 
ing a  large  crystal.  Upon  this  object  Mme.  de 
Brulais  directed  a  look  of  steady  blankness. 
Staring  at  her  across  the  ill-lighted  room. 
Paul  wondered  whether  his  mind  was  be- 
coming unhinged.  He  made  a  stern  effort  and 
addressed  the  woman  facing  them. 

"Look.  Mme.  de  Brulais."  he  said,  "we're 

here  "  He  stopped  and  tried  again.  "My 

name."  he  said,  "is  PatJl  Saxon." 
"Quiet!"  shouted  Mme.  de  Brulais. 
A  voice,  curiously  unlike  Louise's  furn 
tones,  was  heard.  "We  wish  to  see  your 
daughter.  Mme.  de  Brulais."  she  said. 

A  frown,  deep  and  terrifying,  appeared  on 
the  brow  of  Mme.  de  Brulais;  sfie  leaned 
across  the  table.  "You  lot!"  she  yelled. 
'You  lot.  coming  here  and  banging  on  the 
door  at  this  time— no  more!  Sit  still!  Be 
quiet !  What  is  all  this?  Daughter?  Daughter? 
Never,  never,  never  have  I  had  a  daughter. 
Husbands  I  have  had.  plenty  of  husbands, 
but  no  daughter.  Now  no  more!  You  will  be 
quiet— quiet !"  Her  voice  dropped  to  a  mut- 
ter and  she  leaned  over  and  switched  off  a 
lamp  at  her  elbow,  leaving  the  room  in  al- 
most total  darkness.  "Hush!"  she  hissed. 
Hush  .  .  .  hush  .  .  .  hush." 
Her  admonition  was  unnecessary.  Paul 
could  not  have  spoken  if  he  had  wanted  to; 
Louise  sat  stiffly;  Hugo  was  still,  staring  at 
Mme.  de  Brulais,  who  stared  into  the  crystal. 
(Continued  on  Page  121) 


ALI.L'HE 


NEWPORT 


in 


Content  from  heel  to  toe  — that's  how  your  foot  feels 
in  Foot  Savers!  For  they're  lighter  . . .  more  flexible 
than  ever!  All  with  Shortback'  Lasts  that  grip  your 
heels  gently  as  the  gentlest  handclasp— yet  never  trap 
your  toes.  Superbly  styled,  too— reflecting  fashion's 
newest,  nicest  lines.  See  them  at  your  dealer's  now. 


Foot  Saver's  Shortback®  Last  prevents 
looseness  at  heel  without  pinching  toes. 


For  Spring  style  booklet  and  name  of  nearest  Foot  Saver  dealer,  write: 
The  Julian  &  Kokenge  Co.,  264  South  Front  Street,  Columbus  15,  Ohio. 


L.   A    I'    1  n  II  ivi  J    1*    u     It    i\    '\  1^ 


First,  3^u  need  peas  as  tender  as  spring 


A  salad  like  this  calls  for  something  above  the  general  run 
of  peas . . .  Del  Mome  Qmden  Peas.  You  see,  they're 

selected  in  a  very  special  way  that  means  richer  flavor  - — 
tenderness,  too. 

Imagine  a  wide  range  of  flavor-filled  sizes  —  from  which 
only  the  very  best  are  taken.  So  you  get  the  sweeter  sizes 
blending  with  the  richer — for  full,  natural  flavor. 

Then  there's  another  secret  to  their  advantage  —  depend- 
ability. All  the  good  things  mentioned  here  will  be  yours — 
every  time  you  serve  Del  Moxte  Cwdlij  Qwiden  Peas.  Why 
don't  you  try  them,  tomorrow? 

P. S.  Did  you  know  that,  according  to  the  U.S.  Department  of  Labor 
(Oct.,  1952),  canned  fruits  and  vegetables  have  gone  up  in  price 
less  than  half  as  much  as  "all  foods"  since  1935-39? 

STUFFED  LETTUCE  SALAD 


1  No.  303  can  DEL  MONTE 

Caii^  (juxiUn.  Peas 
Vi  cup  celery,  cut  fine 
</4  cup  DEL  MONTE  Sweet 

Pickles,  cut  fine 
y*  cup  cubed  cheese 

2  hard-cooked  eggs, 
sliced 

%  cup  nutmeats 


1  large,  firm  head  of 

lettuce 
Vi  cup  cooked-type 

salad  dressing 
1  teaspoon  prepared 

mustard 
1  teaspoon  sugar 
'/i  teaspoon  salt 
6  to  8  slices  cold  cuts 


Drain  peas;  toss  carefully  with  celery,  pickles, 
cheese,  eggs,  nutmeats.  Cut  lettuce  into  4  to  6 
wedges  from  the  top  down,  but  not  quite  through 
the  bottom.  Spread  open  like  a  flower.  Mix  the 
salad  dressing  with  mustard,  sugar,  salt.  Carefully 
fold  dressing  into  the  peas;  heap  into  the  lettuce. 
Garnish  with  rolled  cold  cuts.  Makes  4  large  lunch- 
eon or  6  dinner-size  salads. 


Del  Monte 


Qa^Lcten 


Peas 


The  biggest 
world  is  the 
provement. 


((  'iinliiiiinl  Irniii  I'm;,-  I  l<Jj 

"Too  many  pcoijle,"  slic  muUcred.  "Peo- 

1,  people,  peoi)le.  Tliis  one,  tlial  one.  Now, 
10  are  you?  Black  as  the  ace  of  spades, 
aw  did  you  net  in?  Another  one— as  black 

the  last.  And  another  man  yellow.  Chi- 
se?  No.  Now  a  white  man.  A  white  man  in 
e  sun.  Two  white  men  in  the  sun,  and  a 
lile  woman  in  the  sun,  and  a  bij;  while 
irse  in  the  sim,  and  a  white  house  and  a 
een  and  a  red  bush  and  a  black  man 
the  Kiirden  walk  inn  one-hop,  one-ho|),  one- 
ip.  A  blue  sunshade  and  a  blue  liandtKiK 
til  dragons,  and  the  white  man  on  the 
lite  horse  . . .  he's  none,  but  the  other  stays, 
e  one  with  the  wouiuK'd  arm,  and  the 
mian  stays  and  tiie  man  is  ^oin^  into  the 
use  with  a  coal  .  .  .  and  out  of  it  lie  lakes  a 
y  .  .  .  he's  openinn  a  case  and  taking  out 
lie  papers  .  .  .  he's  -  he's  none,  and  there's 

;irl.  Chinese?  No.  Burmese.  A  nirl  " 

Someliiinn  fastened  on  I'aul's  arm,  and  he 

t  his  llesli  creep.  Choking  back  a  yeli),  he 

)ked  down  to  lind  thai  his  uncle  was  hold- 

;  iiim  in  a  nrili  of  iron. 

"  i'aul "    his  voice  came  hoarsely — "  Paul, 

've  .uol  to  net  out  of  this." 

rile  urgency  in  his  voice  was  unnerving. 

ul  tried  to  move,  but  before  he  could  leave 

;  chair,  Mme.  de  Brulais  had  raised  her 

;id  and  was  staring  at  them  with  blank, 

seeing  eyes. 

"Don't  move,"  she  said.  "There  is  some- 
iig  to  say." 

iler  went  once  more  to  the  crystal, 
:!  there  was  a  breathless  pause.  Paul,  with 
uncle's  hand  still  upon  his  arm,  could  feel 
'  fin.uers  tinhleninn.  They  must  gel  out  of 
s  poisonous  room.  They 
ist  

rle  saw  a  narrow  slit  of 
I'light.  and  his  eyes  went 
it.  The  double  doors 
reopening.  Through  the 
om  Paul  could  see  a 
1  moving  down  the 
gth  of  the  room — a  girl 
a  black  suit  ...  a  slim 
.,  a  rather  small  girl.  She  fitted  well  into 
:  dark  mystery  of  the  room,  in  her  black 
fit.  .  .  .  There  was  no  daughter,  but  this 
;ht  be  Helga.  With  almost  desperate 
ging,  Paul  wanted  to  see  her  face.  She  was 
rying  something— a  package— no,  it  was 
mall  dish;  she  had  put  it  on  the  table  at 
end  of  the  room  and  she  was — she  was 
ng  out  again— and  he  had  not  seen  her 

2.  .  .  .  Slim,  small,  black-haired,  graceful 
1— she  was  turning. 

>he  was  beautiful.  He  had  only  had  an 
.ant  to  look  at  her  through  the  half-light, 
.  as  the  door  closed  behind  her  Paul  ceased 
struggle  against  the  powerful  influences  in 
room.  This  was  magic  and  he  was  glad  to 
it.  Her  face  was  small,  and  her  eyes— he 
Idn't  tell  their  color,  but  they  were  large, 
I  her  nose  was  small  and  her  mouth  looked 

iciously  soft  and  full  and  

Paul!" 

-ouise's  desperate  choking  appeal  recalled 
1  to  himself.  He  must  get  his  uncle  and 
it  out  of  here — Louise  looked  like  a  ghost, 
I  Hugo  

t  was  too  late.  Mme.  de  Brulais  had  raised 
voice  and  was  speaking  with  a  new  note 
urgency.  "The  girl— the  girl  with  the 
lers,"  she  muttered.  "She  comes  from  a 
:e  .  .  .  I  can't  see  the  name  .  .  .  but  she's 
r,  very  near.  You  must  go  at  once  to 

ndalay.  That's  it— Mandalay  " 

Quick— Paul!" 

UGO  was  holding  Louise ;  he  had  got  her 
ler  feet  and  was  supporting  her  with  one 
1  round  her  shoulder, 
'hey  went  across  the  room  and  passed 
;e  to  Mme.  de  Brulais,  but  she  did  not 
ice  them;  she  was  staring  at  the  crystal 
I  her  voice  had  sunk  to  an  unintelligible 
ttering.  Paul  took  his  aunt  and  uncle  into 
hall;  then  taking  out  his  wallet,  he  ex- 
;ted  some  notes,  walked  quickly  into  the 
m  and  left  them  at  the  fortuneteller's  el- 
V.  She  made  no  sign,  and  Paul,  after  wait- 
for  a  few  moments,  followed  Louise  and 
go.  They  were  out  of  the  house  and  walk- 
a  little  unsteadily  to  their  cars.  The  two 
1  helped  Louise  into  her  seat  and  stood 


by.  lofjking  at  her  anxiously  |„  .,  hllle  while 
she  s|x>ke  in  a  faltering  voicf. 

"I'm  all  r\ii\\{.  Muxo  .  .  ,  ihank  you. 
Let  8-  let's  Ko  away.  iileatM-'" 

Hugo  Hlm)d  still,  looked  at  her  doublfully 
and  after  a  moment  glanced  at  Paul  The 
two  men  walked  slowly  across  to  lim  nephew's 
car. 

IjWill  Aunl  I^Miise  Ix-  all  right?" 

"Yes."  Hugo  soiindefl  a  lilile  uncertain. 
"She'll  be  all  right.  We've  Ixjih"  he  huHi- 
taled    "we've  lx)lli  had  a  shock." 

Paul  sijoke  with  some  hesilation. 
you— do  you  believe  what  the  woman  was 
saying  aliout 

"Believe?"  Hugo  gave  a  short.  mrrlhlesB 
laugh.  "Believe?  There  was  nothing  to  dis- 
believe at  the  beginning,  Our  bungalow  out 
there  in  Burma  white  with  a  green  gale, 
and  the  red  |X)insellia  behind  it.  Your  aunt's 
blue  sunshade,  and  her  blue  handbag  with 
dragons  on  it.  and  the  gardener  who  walked 
with  a  limp."  His  eyes,  with  a  dazed  Icxjk  in 
them,  gazed  into  i'aul's  f'>r  a  moment. 
"It's  .  .  .  incredible.  It's  .  .  .  lamastic." 

If  what  she  says  is  true."  asked  Paul 
slowly,  "arc  you  going  to    to  foMow  it  up?" 

"Yes— no."  said  Hugo  heavily.  "I  can't 
even  think  clearly." 

Without  another  word,  he  turned  and 
walked  back  to  his  car.  Paul  heard  the  |)urr 
of  the  engine  and  saw  the  big  car  glide  down 
the  road  and  out  of  sight. 

Hands  dee|)  in  his  jxKkets.  Paul  debated 
on  his  next  move.  I  le  could  go  back  and  re- 
port to  his  Uncle  Oswald,  and  give  it  as  his 
opinion  that  Mme.  de  Brulais  had  no  daugh- 
ter and  knew  nothing  of 
the  announcement.  Some- 
one had  used  her  name 
room  in  the        but  there  seemed  no  reason 
room  for  im-  connect  her  with  what 

he  was  rapidly  coming  to 
—ANON.        regard  as  a  hoax.  There 
remained  the  girl  who  had 
come  into  the  room.  The 
girl  — she  could  be  Helga. 
She  might  be  able  to  imparl  some  infor- 
mation. 

Turning,  he  walked  to  the  house  and 
pushed  open  the  door  and  went  inside. 

Paul  had  not  been  out  of  the  house  for  very 
long,  but  he  saw.  on  returning,  that  a  great 
change  had  taken  place  in  the  hall  of  No.  89. 
The  inmates  of  the  house  had  all,  it  appeared, 
left  their  rooms  and  were  in  process  of  taking 
their  lunch ;  some  were  taking  it  downstairs  in 
a  raw  state,  while  others  were  taking  it  up- 
stairs in  covered  dishes  from  which  succulent 
smells  escaped. 

He  stood  for  a  few  moments  in  astonish- 
ment, but  the  fear  that  he  had  come  back  to 
the  wrong  house  was  calmed  by  the  opening 
of  the  double  doors  and  the  sudden  emergence 
of  Mme.  de  Brulais;  she  snatched  a  news- 
paper from  the  pile  on  the  hall  table,  glanced 
at  Paul  without  a  flicker  of  recognition.  Be- 
fore Mme.  de  Brulais  could  go  back  to  her 
room,  Paul  had  taken  three  strides  and  stood 
before  her. 

"Madam— please,  '  he  began  firmly,  "I 
wonder  if  you  would  tell  me  " 

"I  do  not  know  anything."  staled  Mme. 
de  Brulais.  "Anything  you  wish  to  know, 
there  is  a  caretaker.  I  will  call  him — wait." 
She  raised  her  voice  in  a  loud  shriek. 
"Chen-te.'" 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  a  shuffling 
sound  came  from  the  top  story.  Chenka, 
Paul  decided,  was  descending.  He  turned  to 
Mme.  de  Brulais. 

"  I  don't  think  Chenka  can  really  help  me, 
madam,"  he  said.  "It's  just  that  I— well,  as 
I  saw  a  girl  in  your  room  this  morning  " 

"This  morning?"  Mme.  de  Brulais  con- 
fronted him  with  a  furious  air.  "You  have 
been  in  my  room  this  morning?  Where  do 
you  get  this  cheek,  eh?  If  you  are  coming  to 
live  here,  let  me  " 

"But  I  assure  you  " 

"  tell  you  that  you  will  keep  yourself 

where  you  belong,  you  hear  me?"  Her  voice 
rose  to  a  shriek.  " In  my  room!  I  ask  every- 
body what  they  think  of  that.  In  my  room ! " 

There  were,  by  this  time,  a  good  many  to 
ask.  Raw  foods  and  cooked  foods  had  paused 
(Continued  on  Page  123) 


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ill  to  listen  U)  this  interest in^^  cx- 
old  man  was  fuiiihlinn  iiis  way 
last  few  stairs.  Tliis  was  prolKihly 
the  caretaker.  If  Clienka  spoke 
iKlisli 

1  (lid  not.  It  was  some  time  helore 
Id  make  himself  understood,  and 
s  struKules  the  watchers,  one  by 

interest  and  went  on  their  way. 
i^c  younn  man  wanted  to  know  if 
Hriilais  iiad  a  dan.nhter. 
Mid  C'henka  (inally.  in  a  srmhlanco 
1.  "No.  No  dau^iiter.  No." 
it  a  hand  on  his  arm.  "Now  look, 

he  said.  "There  is  a  ni'l  in  this 
■  if  she  isn't  in  this  house,  Mine,  de 
lows  who  she  is.  She  carried  sonu'- 
I  madam's  room  this  morning.  She 

thai  door  there  and  she  carrii'cl 
;  in,  and  then  she  came  out  anain. 

that    nirl?  H V/crc  is  she?  " 
'  of  answer,  Chenka  raised  a  bony 
upward.  lie  stood  thus,  silent, 

while  Paul  stru,L;t.;led  to  read  the 
)t  the  Kcsture. 

nean"— he  held  his  breath— "you 
's  upstairs?" 

iiean— she's  upstairs  now?" 

reathed  aKain— deeply,  and  with 
:onlidcnce  buoyinj;  him  up.  "  Which 


halfway  up  the  first  ni.i^ht  and  he 
the  door   

I'  was  standing  before  the  door;  he 

d  a  hand  and 

oftly. 

)or  opened,  and 
before  him.  She 
l--even  smaller 
lad  thoutjht;  her 

oval,  her  skin 
er  eyes  were  very 

dark.  Her  eye- 
e  thick  and,  in- 

irving.  ran  in  an  inquiring  line  bc- 
hair  that  lay  on  her  forehead  in  a 
fringe.  She  was  unlike  any  girl  he 
known;  she  had  a  calm  stillness, 

e,  nunlike  gaze  

1  so  sorry  to — to  disturb  you,"  he 


KMow  how  (iiiliculi  It  m  to  pin  lu-r  down 
to  questions  and  answers," 

'  ^  es.  Hut  she  is  a  genuine  clairvoyant," 
"I'm  quite  sure  i  really  iK-lu-ve  nht-  iH." 
Ii<'  l<H)kcd  at  the  small  oval  face  and  won- 
<lrn(|  how  old  she  was,  Nineteen  twenty? 
It  wasdilhcult  to  tell.  IK-r  ^;realesl  Ix-auly. 
he  thought,  was  her  lovely,  creamy  nkin.  It 
was  a  piquant  combination  I  he  dark  eyen 
and  dark  hair  of  the  south  and  llie  iK-autifiil 
cKar  skin  of  the  north.  He  leaned  forward 
and  put  a  sudden  (|ueslion,  "Voii  aren't  by 
any  chance  called  Ilelt^a,  are  you?" 

She  sh(K)k  her  head  slowly,  "No,  Are  you 
kK)kinp  lor  a  uirl  called  llelga?" 

"Yes.  No.  Well,  in  a  way.  It's  rather  a 
lonu  story.  Am  1  keepin^',  you  from  your 
lunch  ?  " 

"My  IuikIi,"  she  said,  "is  ready,  hut  it 
can  wail,  if  1  can  help  you," 

"I'll  try  not  to  he  lonn,  I.<Mik,"  he  said, 
"couldn't  you  abandon  your  luiu  ii  .iiul  come 
out  and  iiave  some  with  me?" 


'II 


ple;ided 


You  can  make  life  a  bed  of 
roses — if  you  put  in  a  life- 
time of  spadework. 


'  Her  voice  was  like  her  eyes — cool, 
nd  detached. 

a  matter  of  fact.  I  was  down  there, 

de  Brulais'  room,  when  you  came 

-well,  I've  had  an  awful  job  finding 

d  I— could  I  have  a  few  words  with 

rather  an  urgent  matter." 

:ned  the  door  wider  to  admit  hirru, 

,"  she  said  quietly. 

t  in,  and  after  taking  one  step  into 

stood  still,  looking  round  him  in 
it.  In  stepping  across  the  threshold, 
)me  from  neglect  and  shabbiness, 
■der  and  disrepair,  into  a  haven  of 

and  charm.  The  furniture  was 
I  there  was  not  much  of  it;  a  pale 
3et;  flowered  curtains  at  the  win- 
il  saw  a  low  table,  two  easy  chairs, 
^ered.  and  a  divan  on  which  were 
e  cushions.  This  was  a  bed-sitting 
I  house  which  any  fastidious  person 
use  to  enter,  she  kept  this  clean, 
ming  room.  It  was  incredible.  This 


'  an  oasis."  he  said  impulsively. 
1  smiled.  "Everybody."  she  said, 
ays  that  first  of  all  when  they  come 
IS  an  oasis.'"  Her  English  was  per- 
there  was  something— scarcely  an 
ut  something  in  intonation^that 
)  a  foreign" strain.  He  saw  that  she 
ng  at  him  inquiringly,  and  came 
;  with  a  jerk. 

;11,"  he  began.  "I  came  here  this 
vith  an  uncle  and  aunt  of  mine,  to 
de  Brulais." 

de  Brulais  usually  takes  clients 

I  know— Mondays.  Wednesdays 
ys.  She  told  us.  But  we  hadn't  come 
ur  fortunes  told.  We  wanted  to  ask 
■  two  questions,  but— well,  perhaps 


Si  IK  shook  her  head  and  smilid 
you.  no  What  were  you  saying?" 

"Could  I  know  your  name  first  ? 
Taul.  "Mine's  Saxon    Paul  Saxon." 

A  smile  slow,  but  widening  into  a  l(M)k  of 
mischief  api)eared  on  her  face.  "Do  you 
live  in  Lowndes  Crescent?" 

"How  did  you  know?" 

"I've  sent  bills  to  you  often." 

"Bilh?  Bills  for  what?" 

She  laughed  with  open  amusement.  "I 
work  in  a  flower  shop." 

"A  " 

"Lady  Pembury's  flower  shop." 

"Oh."  Paul  fought  off  a 
feeling  of  disaster.  "But  I 
don't  remember  see- 
ing ■" 

"I  don't  work  in  the 
front  of  the  shop.  I  work 
at  the  back.  The  beauti- 
ful arrangements  you  see 
in  the  vases  in  the  shop  — 
all  my  work.  I  make  up  the 
boxes  we  send— for  gentlemen  — to  the  lady 
of  the  moment." 

The  lady  of  the  moment.  Nancy,  Priscilla. 
Carol,  Brenda  ^  -  "Don't  let's  talk  shop." 
he  begged. 

"You  didn't,"  she  said,  "pay  your  last 
two  bills." 
"I  " 

"  For  the  carnations.  To  Miss  Hannington. 
And  the  Easter  lilies  to— I've  forgotten." 

"So've  I,"  said  Paul.  "Will  you  tell  me 
your  name?  " 

"Wyatt." 

"  Wyatt.  I  saw  it  on  the  door  outside.  But 
there  must  be  some  more?" 

"My  name  is  Antonia,"  she  said. 

"Antonia.  Antonia."  He  said  it  lingeringly. 
"Antonia.  That  isn't  an  English  name?" 

"No.  My  father  was  En,e;lish.  but  my 
mother  was  Italian." 

That  would  account  for  everything, 
thought  Paul.  It  would  account  for  the  dark 
hair  and  the  liquid  brown  eyes  and  the  differ- 
ence in  intonation. 

"Now  tell  me  what  you  came  about."  said 
Antonia. 

Paul  made  an  efl'ort,  and  collected  his 
thoughts.  "It  was  really  Mmc.  de  Brulais 
we  came  to  see.  My  uncle,  my  aunt  and  I. 
You  see,  an  extraordinary  thing  happened— 
there  was  an  announcement  of  my  engage- 
ment in  the  Times  yesterday." 

"Congratulations,"  said  Antonia. 

"Thanks.  But  you're  a  bit  early.  The  an- 
nouncement was  a  fake.  It  teamed  me  up 
with  a  girl  I've  never  heard  of  in  my  life— 
Helga.  Helga,  daughter  of  Mme.  de  Brulais." 

There  was  a  pause.  Antonia  sat  quietly 
thinking  over  his  words. 

"Mme.  de  Brulais  has  no  daughter."  she 
said.  "There  must  be  some  mistake.  Why 
did  you  think  it  was  this  Mme.  de  Brulais?" 

"  Because'jt  gave  the  address— quite  fully— 
eighty-nine  Selcourt  Street." 

There  was  a  frown  on  Antonia's  brow. 
"But  when  you  asked  Mme.  " 

"We  came  here  and  knocked  at  her  door, 
and  after  that,  nobody  had  a  chance  to  say 
anything— except  madam.  We  were  all  swept 
(Coiilhined  on  Page  liS) 


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greaseless  beauty  cream  is  a  medicated  formula.  That', 
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Noxzema  helped  4  out  of  5  women  with  discouraginj 
skin  problems.  Try  it  for  10  days.  If  not  delighted 
return  jar  to  Noxzema,  Baltimore.  Your  money  back 

•  *  externally  tauset 


your  skin  look  smoother,  fresher,  lovelier.  (Always  pat  a  bit 
extra  over  any  blemishes*  to  help  heal  them  — fast!) 

The  protective  film  of  oil-and-moisture  Noxzema  provides 
is  especially  beneficial  to  rough,  dry,  sensitive  complexions. 
Even  in  extreme  ca.ses,  where  the  dried-out,  curled-up  cells 
of  dead  .skin  give  an  unattractive  grayish  look,  you  will  see 
a  wonderful  improvement  as  you  go  on  faithfully  using 
Noxzema.  It's  greasele.is.  No  smeary  face  or  stained  pillow! 
3.  Make-up  base.  In  the  morning,  'cream-wash'  again, 
then  apply  Noxzema  as  your  long-lasting  powder  base.  It 


Look  lovelier  offer 

40*  NOXZEMA' 


plu 
tax 


1*  use  this  trial  jar  —  see  how  much  lovelier  it 
helps  your  skin  look 

2*  then  save  money  by  getting  giant  10  oz.  jar 
only  89<  plus  tax!  Drug  or  cosmetic  counters. 


(('iiilliiiiii-ii  Iniiii  I'dKc  IJ.I) 

(Icn,  made  to  |)ay  double  because  il 
visiliuK  day,  and  llieii  she  whisked 
ivcr  olT  the  crystal- and  turned  iiilo  a 


(me.  de  Brulais,"  said  Aiilonia  slowly, 
.  a  fake.  She  hasn't  told  my  fortune, 
ise  I  won't  let  her  but  I  can  tell  you 
she  has"  -she  hesitated  "extraordi- 
|X)wers." 

hi'  has  sucli  extraordinary  powers," 
I'aul  with  feeling,  "that  my  nnde  and 
left  tiiis  buiidin^j  in  a  sl;ite  bordering  on 
)se.  Siie  opened  a  cupboard,  put  a  tinner 
e  ianiily  skek'ton  and  went  straight  into 
ncie's|)ast.  IVrhaps  if  we'd  stayed  there, 
/ould  have  come  to  Hel^;a,  but  I'm  not 
slronn  on  the  occult ." 
Veil,  I'm  sorry,  but  1  can't  iaip  you," 
Antonia.  "All  I  can  tell  you  is  that 
;.  de  Brulais  has  no  dauKiitcr.  I've 
/n  her  since  I  was  twelve,  and  I  think 
atiier  knew  her  before  that.  If  she  had 
:i  dau.uiiler,  I  would  iiave  heard  of  her." 
joiild  she  have  put  tiie  announcement 
one  of  lier  cloud-cuckoo  moments?" 
don't  think  so,"  said  Antonia.  "If  you 
I'll  talk  to  Mme.  de  Brulais  and  see  if 
;ru)ws  anything.  It's  no  use  asking  her  in 
aiKlit  forward  way    — " 
know  that,"  said  Paul. 
—  but  I  can  feel  my  way  and  see 
her  anything;  comes  of  it." 
riiat's  very  kind  of  you,"  said  Paul. 
1  sorry  to  ask  you  to  go  into  that  room." 
)h,  but  I  go  into  it  twice  every  day," 
Antonia.  "I  cook  her  food." 
iut    for  Pete's  sake,  why?" 
ilonia  leaned  back  more  comfortably  in 
:hair.  "In  this  house,"  she  explained, 
rybody  cooks  in  the  same  kitchen 
istairs.  They  cook,  they  clear  up.  they 

up.  But  Mme.  de  Brulais  "  An- 

paused,  her  eyes  opening,  her  nose 
hing  with  memories  of  Mme.  de  Brulais' 
ing.  "I  couldn't  live  with  it— and  so  I 
iged  to  cook  for  her.  I  don't  think  she 
:es  I  do  it;  she  sees  the  food,  she  eats  it, 
Jhenka  washes  the  dishes." 

ul  looked  at  her.  "Have  you  "  he 

1,  and  stopped. 
Veil?" 

t's  rather  an  impertinent  question.  I 
going  to  ask  you  whether  you'd  iived 
since  you  were  twelve." 
'es.  In  this  house,  but  not  in  this  room. 
:ather  and  I  lived  on  the  floor  above, 
hen  the  woman  who  had  this  room  went 
,  and  we  moved  down  to  this  floor— I 
n  this  room  and  my  father  was  in  the 
ipposite  until  he  died.  My  mother  was 
■  here— she  died  before  we  left  Italy." 
ere  were  a  thousand  questions  he  would 
liked  to  ask,  but  something  in  her  man- 
revented  him.  He  got  reluctantly  to  his 
he  had  no  excuse  for  staying  longer, 
m  keeping  you  from  your  lunch.  Look  — 
n't  we  meet  somewhere  soon?" 
tonia  frowned  in  thought.  "This  is 
day;  I'll  talk  to  Mme.  de  Brulais  early 
uesday —Monday  is  no  use,  because 
as  clients  all  day.  I  shan't  be  able  to  see 
intil  Thursday." 
an  I  phone  you  here?" 
here's  no  telephone  in  the  house." 
hen  at  the  shop?  Bertha— Lady  Pem- 
— is  an  old  friend  of  mine." 
tonia  smiled  again.  "You  can  try,"  she 
"but  others  have  tried.  Lady  Pembury 
's  tells  them  I'm  out."  She  went  to  the 
and  opened  it.  "I'll  come  downstairs 
you.  There  are  some  curious  people 
-you  might  get  into  ditihculties."  She 
m  toward  the  stairs,  passing  on  the  way 
locked  door.  "My  bathroom,"  she  said. 
I  have  to  keep  it  locked,  because  if  I 
t,  Emblatt  and  Goldstein  and  the  rest 
1  move  in." 

ERAi.  SAXON  walked  up  Piccadilly  with 
ir  of  a  man  who  has  fulfilled  an  impor- 
nission  with  efficiency  and  success.  He 
n  fact,  dispatched  two  missions;  he  had 
1  at  the  office  of  the  Times  and  had  also 
d  Douglas  Warwick  at  Scotland  Yard, 
had  learned  at  the  Times  office  no 
than  he  had  expected  to  learn :  the  let- 
ticlosing  the  announcement  had  been 


typed  and  signed  in  a  cultured  but  illcTibl.- 
Iiand.  I'aynu-nt  had  Ix-cn  inade  by  |x.slai  or 
der.  With  Douglas  Warwick,  the  general  had 
at  (irst  made  as  liiile  headway.  Ii  had  taken 
a  g<K)d  deal  of  argument  to  make  hini  prom- 
ise to  go  akmg  to  D)wndes  (  Test  eni  and  talk 
the  matter  over  with  Paul;  but  he  had  i)roiii- 
ised. 

For  his  own  part,  the  general  still  held  the 
opinion  that  Paul  had  at  one  lime  known 
Mile,  de  Brulais.  I  le  had  known  her  he  had 
probably  been  on  extremely  warm  lermn 
Willi  her,  and  then  he  harl,  with  the  ligluiiess 
that  so  regrettably  characlerixed  him,  iraiis- 
lerred  his  attentions  to  some  other  woman. 

Ills  nephi'w's  behavior,  decided  (he  gen- 
eral, walking  on,  was  lamentable.  It  was  bad 
enough  to  piulander  from  year  lo  year  with- 
out showing  any  signs  of  chiMJsing  a  wife  aiul 
settling  down;  it  was  unfor^;lv;ll)le  to  have 
shown  signs  of  favoring  Ursula  llanninglon 
when  he  had,  up  his  sleeve,  all  the  lime,  this 
Ilelga  de  Brulais. 

At  this  iM)int  the  general  turned  into  the 
Burlington  Arcade  and  came  face  to  face 
with  Ursula  1  laniungton. 

It  was  imiK)ssible  lo  avoid  iier,  though  he 
dearly  wished  he  could  have  (k)ne  so.  But  he 
saw  with  mounting  admiration  that  Ursula's 
manner  was  as  calm,  as  unmoved  as  ever. 

"(k-neral  Saxon,"  she  said,  holding  out  a 
softly  gk)ved  hand.  "How  nice!" 

She  was  in  gray— how  well  it  suited  her, 
thought  the  general.  She  was  really  a  very 

ooooooooooooo 

DAYS  OF  THE  WEEK 

The  Anglo-Saxon  originals  were: 

Sunday,  day  of  the  sun; 
Monday,  day  of  the  moon; 
Tuesday,  day  of  Tyr,  god  of  war; 
Wednesday,  day  of  Woden,  supreme 
god; 

Thursday,  day  of  Thor,  god  of  thun- 
der; 

Friday,  day  of  Freya,  goddess  of 

marriage; 
Saturday,  day  of  Saturn. 

00OO0OO0OOOG0 

fine  figure  of  a  woman:  tall,  slim,  regal;  she 
might  have  been  a  princess. 

"Ursula,  my  dear."  He  took  her  hand  and 
held  it  for  a  moment.  "You're  looking  very 
lovely." 

"Thank  you."  She  smiled  at  him.  "You 
don't  look  as  festive  as  I  expected  to  find  you 
after  reading  yesterday's  announcement." 

There  it  was— out  at  once,  calm  and  di- 
rect. The  girl  really  had  spirit. 

"I  don't  feel  festive,"  he  returned. 
"There's  nothing  in  the  announcement  to 
make  anybody  feel  festive." 

Her  eyebrows  went  up.  "No?  But  I  was 
going  to  ring  Paul  up  after  lunch,  to  con- 
gratulate him.  Tell  me,  who  is  she?" 

It  was  impossible  to  stand  in  the  middle  of 
the  Burlington  Arcade  and  explain  who  she 
was,  or  if  she  was  anybody. 

"If  you're  by  any  chance  free  for  lunch- 
eon  "  began  the  general. 

Ursula  was  not  free,  but  if  she  left  him  now 
there  might  not  be  another  opportunity  of 
finding  out  what  was  making  him  look  so 
gloomy.  "I'm  just  on  my  way  to  meet  some 
friends,"  she  said,  "but  they're  friends  of 
yours,  too;  do  come  and  join  us!" 

"  No,  no.  no  " — the  general  backed  away — 
"I  couldn't  really  do  that." 

"  But  they'll  be  so  disappointed.'  You  know 
them  all— anyhow,  we're  five  and  you'll 
make  numbers  even;  of  course  you  must 
come." 

He  saw  no  reason  why  he  must  come,  but 
his  was  a  code  which  outlined  no  gentlemanly 
way  of  unhooking  a  charming  woman  who 
had  suddenly  become  attached  to  his  arm. 
The  general  gave  in,  and  cleft  a  way  for  his 
fair  companion  through  loitering  pedestrians. 

"Manuelo's,"  she  said.  "You  know  it,  of 
course?" 

He  knew  it,  but  had  never  been  inside;  it 
was  not  one  of  the  quieter  places.  As  he  fol- 


lowed hii_  CDiniJ.iiiiun  into  ihi  Miiall,  ovcr- 
( rowded  bar  ol  Manuejrj'h,  the  general'ii  npir- 
itHHiink ;  llu  y  n  adud  .i  kIiII  lower  level  wlicii 
he  Hiiw  ihe  |»arty  m  whim-  iindHt  he  wan  lo 
lunch  Uruula  had  «iid  that  la-  knew  ihem. 
hIh-  meant,  lA  courw.  thai  Ik-  knew  wlw(  ilu-y 
were  an  indi  ed  he  <li<l,  for  tliey  were  all 
young  (K-ople  who  a|j|Kar«-d  wiih  uitfailioK 
regularity  in  the  pagcn  <»l  ihc  iMipular  prenn 
The  general  did  indeed  make  the  numlM-r 
even;  there  were  now  three  women  of 
whom  Urnula  was  by  Home  years  the  (jUIchI  - 
and  three  men,  though  the  general  w<»ndere<l 
whether  Ihc  term  could  Ik-  ntretched  to  in- 
clude two  Huch  iK-ardlesH  ytjutliH  and  a  gray- 
head  lik«-  hims«-ll  He  edged  himself  into  ilu- 
liny  mche  in  which  three  of  the  party  were 
already  s<|ueezed,  and  found  liimst-lf  in  the 
|x)sition  of  not  (miy  ordi-ririg  drinks  for  six 
but  of  paying  for  Ihcm  when  bnjughl. 

XiiKY  moved  presently  into  a  larger  rcxim, 
Ursula  waved  the  general  lo  a  place  between 
the  girl  called  Klspeth  and  the  young  man 
named  Tony. 

"Tony,  l(X)k  after  the  general."  she  or- 
dered. 

Tony  did  his  In-st.  Though  somewhat  de- 
ficient in  intelligence,  he  was  a  good-natured 
youth,  not  long  out  of  scIukjI  and  anxious  to 
remove  from  the  general's  face  the  Irxjk  of 
cordial  dislike  he  saw  written  u|>jn  it. 

The  general,  indeed,  was  getting  angr 
His  ho|x-  of  a  tete-a-tete  with  an  attenliv. 
Ursula  listening  to  him  as  he  spoke  of  tin 
less  obvious  aspect  of  Paul's  engagement  had 
come  to  this— this- he  groped  for  suitable 
words  -  this  monkey  house. 

Tony  Perch,  for  his  part,  found  the  gen- 
eral heavy  going.  Where  Ursula  had  picked 
him  up  was  what  he'd  like  to  know. 

"Pity,  wasn't  it,  the  way  Old  Glory  just 
got  pipped  at  the  pos\.  in  the  twelve-thirty  ? " 

No  go.  The  old  boy  obviously  knew  not 
the  first  thing  about  form.  Didn't  even  fol- 
low the  trend;  one  ought  to  give  him  a  hint. 

"  You  don't  go  in  for  racing?  " 

The  general  savagely  broke  his  roll  in  two. 
"Never." 

Nevah.  Well,  that  hadn't  gone  very  far. 
What  did  those  Edwardians  talk  about? 
Oh -Oscar  W^ilde. 

"Quite  a  good  show,  that  revival,  didn't 
you  think?  We  saw  it  the  other  night  — you 
know  the  one  I  mean  — the  Oscar  Wilde." 

"Really?"  said  the  general. 

It  was  odd,  mused  Tony.  His  grandfather 
was  ahvays  harping  about  the  old  days,  when 
conversation  was  conversation.  This  old  crus- 
tacean must  have  been  the  notable  excep- 
tion. 

Ursula  met  the  look  in  the  general's  eye 
and  recognized  it  for  desperation.  She  gave 
the  waiter  a  casual  glance  that  told  him  not 
only  lo  bring  the  bill,  but  where  to  take  it;  ;i- 
the  general,  summoning  his  fortitude,  countec 
out  notes,  she  dismissed  the  others  and  bade 
them  a  casual  farewell. 

"Now  that's  over,"  she  said,  "and  we  can 
talk."  She  put  her  elbows  on  the  table  and 
rested  her  chin  on  her  hands,  making,  Os- 
wald thought,  a  very  charming  picture. 
"Now,"  she  said,  "tell  me  about  this  girl 
Paul's  engaged  to.  Nobody  seems  lo  have 
heard  of  her." 

"We  hadn't  heard  of  her,  either,"  said 
Oswald.  "  We  " 

"He's  been  horribly  secretive  about  it," 
went  on  Ursula.  She  gave  a  laugh  in  which 
the  general  detected  nothing  but  warm  good 
will.  "I  think  he  might  have  trusted  me  to 
be  discreet.  I'm  really  very  angry  with  him." 

The  general  took  even  this  statement  in 
good  faith,  and  his  admiration  for  her  sports- 
manship rose. 

"  It's  a  funny  business  altogether,"  he  said. 
"According  to  Paul,  she  doesn't  exist  at  all. 
He  says  quite  positively  that  he  never,  in  all 
his  life,  heard  of  a  Helga  de  Brulais." 

Ursula  smiled  again— a  slow,  broad  smile 
of  disbelief.  "Oh,  nonsense. '"  she  said.  "He's 
simply  forgotten  her,  the  philandering  little 
beast  that  he  is.  I  hope  she  hauls  him  into 
court  and  gets  a  nice  tidy  sum  out  of  him." 

"Well.  I  hope  she  doesn't."  said  the  gen- 
eral. "  It  isn't  a  thing  that  has  ever  happened 
in  our  family  before.  You  really  think  he  did 
know  her  once?  " 


lhafs  Putting ) 
Him  On  Ice,  j 


YOUR  SISTER'S  GIVING 
ME  A  ElAD  TIME,  KID - 
euT  I  DON'T  WAIU  TO 
AKE  IT  SITTING  Df.  ' 


TO  STOP  BAD  BREATH,  I  RECOMMEND 
COtGATE  DENTAL  CREAM.  BRUSHING  TEETH 
AFTER  EATING  WITH  COLGATES  MAKES  YOUR 
MOUTH  FEEL  CLEANER  LONGER-GlVES  YOi; 
A  CLEAN,  FRESH  MOUTH  ALL  DAY  LONG! 


And  Colgate's  has  proved  conclusively  that  brush- 
ing teeth  right  after  eating  stops  tooth  decay 
best!  In  fact,  the  Colgate  way  stopped  more  decay 
for  more  people  than  ever  before  reported  in 
all  dentifrice  history! 


LATER— Thanks  to  Colgatt  Dental  Cruam 


Brushing  Teeth  Right  After  Eating  with 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

STOPS 
BAD  BREATH 

and 

STOPS  DECAY! 

Colgate's  instantly  stops  bad  breath  in  7  out  of  10 
cases  that  originate  in  the  mouth !  And  the  Colgate 
way  of  brushing  teeth  right  after  eating  is  the 
best  home  method  known  to  help  stop  tooth  decay! 


COLGATe 

RIBBON  DENTAL 


n  CLEANS  YOUR  BREATH  WHtLE  IT 
CLEANS  YOUR  TEETH! 


L     \    I'     I     r.  -1 


II      «'      \l      I',         .1      I  »      I       U      N      \  I, 


IMnrcl, 


Like  flowing 

new  life  in  your  hair! 

Finesse  Shampoo  cleanses  an  entirely  new  way! 
Attracts  dust  and  grime  by  "magnetic"  action  .  .  .  but 
leaves  in  those  natural  oils  that  keep  your  hair  iiright 
and  beautiful.  From  one  Finesse 
shampoo  to  the  next,  your  hair 
will  be  alive  with  highlights! 


there  goes 
perspiration ! 


ff'here  your  bath  ends  .  .  . 
St opette  begins! 
One  swift  squeeze  of 
this  famous  flexi-plastic  bottle 
gives  you  double  assurance. 
Stops  odor  .  .  .  checks  perspiration 
.  .  .  effectively,  throughout  your 
longest  day.  And  nothing 
to  stick  your  fingers  in  .  . . 
no  mess.  No  clogged  pores. 
Wouldn't  you 
feel  safer  .  .  . 
ivith  Stopette? 

Two  sizes:  $1.25 
and  60r.  plus  tax 


W  herever  good  cosmetics  <ire  sold 


lULES  MONIENIER 


CH  ICAGO 


"Of  course  he  did!  Why  would  anybody 
waste  however  many  guineas  it  is  to  put  an 
announcement  in  the  Times,  if  they  didn't 
have  a  basis  for  making  the  announcement? 
You'll  find  that  one  of  Paul's  more  careless 
moments  in  France  or  Italy  or  Switzerland 
has  come  home  to  roost.  Helga's  probably 
the  pretty  little  thing  who  looked  after  him 
in  the  hotel  when  it  got  too  dark  to  ski." 

Something  in  her  tone  and  words  jarred  on 
the  general.  Looking  into  her  eyes,  he  saw 
their  hardness  and  mistook  it  for  brightness; 
her  flush  of  triumph  he  took  to  be  a  blush  at 
the  thought  that  Paul  might  be  free. 

"  I'm  glad  to  have  had  this  talk  with  you," 
he  said  sincerely. 

"It's  been  lovely,"  said  Ursula.  "But  we 
must  meet  again — we'll  see  how  this  thing 
works  out.  Tomorrow — we  must  lunch  to- 
gether. Tell  me  where  you're  staying  and  I'll 
call  for  you  at  half  past  twelve — we'll  drive 
somewhere." 

The  words  were  rapid,  the  tone  assured; 
before  the  general  could  muster  his  thoughts, 
he  had  admitted  that  he  had  no  engagement 
for  the  next  day.  He  had  intended  to  go  and 
see  Paul  and  then  return  home — Julia  would 
expect  him  by  Sunday  evening. 

Rising  to  follow  Ursula  out,  he  decided  to 
write  to  Julia  and  explain.  She  was  as  fond 
as  he  was  of  Ursula;  she  would  understand 
the  need  to  make  up  to  her  for  Paul's  defec- 
tion. 

M*AUL  drove  home  from  Selcourt  Street  in  a 
state  which  robbed  him  of  his  accustomed 
expertness  in  traffic,  and  rendered  him  deaf 
to  the  remarks  addressed  to  him  on  the  way 
by  the  outraged  drivers  of  other  vehicles.  At 
Lxjwndes  Crescent,  he  ran  his  car  into  the 
garage  and  went  into  the  house.  He  went  to- 
ward the  drawing  room,  and  found  himself 
alone  with  Elaine.  "Hello,  mother." 

Elaine  looked  up  at  him,  and  at  the  look 
of  dejection  on  her  face,  Paul  gave  a  low 
whistle  of  comprehension.  Only  one  person 
could  bring  a  conscience-stricken  look  to  his 
mother's  face. 

"Had  a  nice  talk  with  Uncle  Ossy?  "  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Oh,  he  said  the  usual  things,"  said  Elaine. 
"  Paul — what  happened  ? " 

"At  Selcourt  Street?  Nothing.  But  what 
are  you  looking  so  gloomy  about?" 

"I'm  not  gloomy."  Elaine  got  up,  walked 
across  the  room  and  arranged  some  cushions 
with  a  dissatisfied  air,  "Paul,  there  is  a  sort 
of  idea  going  about  that  you're  a— that 
you're  " 

"That  I'm  a  rake.  I  know,  my  pet.  It  be- 
gan when  I  dodged  a  dance  with  Great-aunt 
Miriam  at  a  tenants'  ball  when  I  was  four- 
teen, and  danced  with  the  gamekeeper's 
daughter.  It  roused  all  the  family  to  a  frenzy 
of  apprehension— and  it  hasn't  died  down 
since." 

"But  you  do— I  mean  you  have  gone 
about  with  a  great  many  girls  and  " 

'j'Yes,  my  cherished  mamma,  I  have." 
Paul's  voice  was  balm  itself.  "And  didn't 
Uncle  Mephistopheles  tell  you  that  it  was 
all  your  fault  for  bringing  us  to  this  wicked 
city?" 

"Well — he  never  felt  it  was  a  wise  move." 

"Mother  darling,  I  wouldn't  have  stayed 
down  in  that  Berkshire  mausoleum  unless 
you'd  chained  me  in  it— and  neither  would 
Philippa.  We  love  this  house,  and  we  love 
you,  and  we're  all  very  very  happy  on  the 
days  Uncle  Ossy  doesn't  call." 

"You  mustn't  take  it  too  light,  Paul. 
There's  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  a  lot  of  what 
he  said.  It's  true  that  Philippa — well,  she's 
not  really  a  useful  member  of  society,  is  she?" 

"No,  she  isn't,"  agreed  Paul  readily.  "I 
don't  really  know  many  girls  of  eighteen  who 
are.  She's  fairly  average,  you  know;  she  got 
whatever  that  certificate  was  she  went  in  for 
at  school — that  means  she  knows  a  very  lit- 
tle about  a  lot  of  subjects.  She  can  do  short- 
hand if  someone  reads  it  to  her  at  dictation 
speed,  and  she  can  type  with  two  fingers. 
Can  one  ask  more,  at  eighteen?" 

"But  her  music  " 

"She  gave  up  the  violin  at  the  age  of  fif- 
teen, God  be  praised." 

"But  there  was  that  promise  she  showed 
as  a  dancer  and  " 


there's  beauty  in  th 


To  make  your  hands  softer — ^yot, 
skin  more  beautiful,  the  mastt, 
blenders  of  Chamberlain's  hav 
created  this  clear,  golden  lotior 
Smooth  it  slowly,  gently-,  into  yov 
hands,  arms,  legs  and  shoulders.  Se' 
how  it  soothes  and  caresses  you 
skin  . . .  then  disappears  like  magi< 
leaving  only  its  exciting  I'cAr/  /oucf 
Try  it  ^roon  .  . .  and  discover  wh 
Chamberlain's  is  the  fastest-sellin 
clear  lotion  in  America. 

((iiiiikihu 

clear  lotion 


for 
hands 
and 
skin 


127 


(lailiiiK,  slic  didn't.  She  did  ilu- 
lalloon  dance  a(  the  ajje  of  live  and 
L  liie  house  down    l)ul  that  wasn't 
cinu.  'I'hnl  was  lier  sex  a|)peal." 
ive?" 

ive,  andal  lilt y-live  and  at  aiiiindicd 
2.  Pliiiippa's  the  sexiest  lliinn  a  cool 
laiactcr  like  yourself  ever  produced, 
iclf  Ossy  sees  it  without  undcrslaiid- 
ind  it  drivi's  him  to  call  it  all  sorts  of 
linns.  Why  do  you  let  him,  mother 
?  U7/.V  do  you  let  him  tear  your  chil- 
picces  and  sc'alter  the  hits  at  your 

I'aul    I  don't !  1  think  you're  all 
y  all  rinlit .  ImiI  it's  just 
re  model  children    model.  We're  v;(x)d- 

we've  K'ot  charming  manners  and 
idy  except  the  stuffy  Saxons  loves  us 
ich." 

t  that  a  little  .  .  .  conceited?" 
•e  than  a  little;  I'm  swinninn  the 
im  to  the  other  side,  and  between  the 
Ircmes-  Uncle  Ossy's  and  mine 
LHtle  plumb  center  and  net  back  all 
CO  normal  outlook.  Whal'll  you  do 
m  in  far-off  Africa  and  there's  no- 
I  brinn  you  round  after  his  visits?" 
I't  talk  about 
said  Klaine. 
irrid." 

sn't  horiid  at 
're  goinn  to  lly 
visit  me  every 

week  end. 
sworn." 

Now  tell  me 
.'Icourt  Street." 
ible,  and  a  lo- 
k  as  far  as  re- 
),"  said  Paul, 
ouse  is  appall- 
ne.  de  Brulais 
tuncleller  and 
emely  unlikely 
-  had  anythinji 
ith  the  notice, 
ighl  we'd  come 
'  our  fortunes 
1  something  she 

Uncle  Hugo 
it  Louise  upset 
iretty  badly — 
ng  about  that 
ir  in  Burma." 
n— you're  no 
on,  Paul?" 

no  further  on.  Pd  give  a  lot  to  know 
t  that  announcement  in.  and  why, 

not  prepared  to  go  to  the  lengths 
'swald's  going  to  in  order  to  find  out. 
;  five  weeks  left  in  England  and- 1 
enjoy  them.  If  the  uncles  and  aunts 

is  a  slur  on  the  family  honor,  they 
age  half  the  detective  force  in  the 
,  but  I'm  not  going  to  turn  myself 
)loodhound.  I  haven't  the  jowl,  for 
ig." 

was  a  pause. 

you,"  asked  Elaine,  "find  out  what 
that  woman  said  that  upset  Uncle 

ard  what  she  said,  but  it  didn't  make 
!nse  to  me.  He  looked  pretty  green, 
lid  Aunt  Louise." 
you  come  away  with  them?" 

"  Paul  hesitated.  "But  I  didn't  go 
hen  they  did.  I  went  back  into  the 

see  Mme.  de  Brulais?" 

I ...  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  went  back 

girl." 

you  mean  a  girl?"  asked  Elaine  in 
iment. 

2an  a  girl,"  said  Paul, 
e  considered  this  for  a  few  moments, 
then,"  she  said  at  last,  "she  must  be 
nustn't  she?" 

she's  not  Helga,"  said  Paul.  "But 
ling  to  try  and  find  out  something, 
ng  her  on  Thursday.  She — she  works 
•a's.'" 

)ra's'?  Bertha  Pembury's?" 
.  She's  young,  beautiful,  lives  at  Sel- 
treet  and  works  at  Flora's." 
i  was  a  long  silence. 
.  .  .  Paul  " 


Klaine  looked  apix  al- 


More  Nortti  and  South 

I  could  not  get  beyond  his  lips- 
Ail  night  my  body's  dream 
stayed  there: 
A  bird  that  did  not  stir  nor  drop, 
Its  joy  was  strangely  nailed  to 
air. 

I  cannot  say  if  it  was  love, 

Or,  granted  love,  of  flesh  or  soul; 
I  only  know  the  heart  knows 
realms 

More  north  and  south  than 
either  pole. 


"Yes,  mother?' 

"ShemuHtbe  ,„.„ 

ingly  at  her  son,  and  koi  no  help  from  hm  de 
hberately  expressioniesH  face.  "If  hhe  lives 
there,  she  must  surely  be  the  one  ihey  called 
llelt-a?" 

"She  had  nothing  to  do  with  il,"  sjijd  Paul 
with  calm  linality. 

"Oh."  Klaine  Ihoujjlu  ji  over  for  a  few 
moments.  "Am  1  goinu  to  see  her?" 

^  (HI  are,  darhng.  Antonia  is  the  reason 
I'm  goinn  to  keep  the  next  weeks  free.  I  need 
time,  because  I'm  going  lo  lay  siege  to  a  cita- 
del." Elaine  saw  thai  he  was  smiling,  but  she 
saw,  too,  something  in  his  face  ilial  she  had 
never  seen  before. 

"  What  is  she  like?  "  she  asked. 
"Like?"  Paul  took  a  long  lime  toconsider. 
"\Vell,  she's    she's  got  a  fringe." 

"A  fringe!"  Elaine's  voice  was  a  wail  of 
<lismay.  She  raised  her  eyes  round  with 
apprehension  and  sought  for  sfime  reassur- 
ance. "Are  you  are  you  ciuile  certain  she 
isn't    isn't  related  lo  Mme.  (k'  Mrulais?" 

"She  isn't  related  to  anybody."  There  was 
a  blithe  note  in  Paul's  voice.  "She's  a  i>ore 
li'l'  orphan  and"- he  bent  until  his  nose 
touched  his  mother's  — 
"you've  got  to  be 
very,  very  sweet  to  her, 
Lady  Saxon,  for  rea- 
sons with  which  we  shall 
not  concern  ourselves 
at  present.  See? " 

"Yes,"  said  Elaine 
truthfully.  "I  see." 

The  door  opened 
and  Petunia,  leaning 
against  it,  watched 
with  detached  interest 
as  Paul  rubbed  his  nose 
affectionately  against 
his  mother's.  "Man 
outside.  Didn't  catch 
the  name.  From  Scot- 
land Yard.  Shall  I 
fetch  him  in?" 

"No— wait,"  said 
Paul  hastily.  He  was 
opening  a  door  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room. 
"I'm  going  into  the 
library." 

"Oh,    Paul,  no!" 
wailed  Elaine. "  You've 
got  to  see  him." 
"No — you,"  said  Paul.  "If  you  say  I'm 
away  for  the  week  end,  he'll  go  away  at 
once."  He  turned  to  Petunia.  "Let  him  in, 
Petsy." 

He  vanished  through  one  door  as  Petunia 
went  out  the  other.  Presently  she  reappeared, 
ushering  in  a  man. 

Elaine  rose  to  her  feet  and  looked  inquir- 
ingly. "I'm  afraid  I  don't  "  she  began. 

"Lady  Saxon?" 

"Yes." 

"My  name  is  Warwick— your  brother-in- 
law,  General  Saxon,  came  to  see  me  this 
morning  at  the  Yard." 

"Oh.  Won't  you  sit  down?" 

Mr.  Warwick  sat  down  and  looked  at  his 
hostess,  waiting  for  her  to  open  the  subject 
which,  the  general  had  assured  him,  was  of 
such  vital  interest  to  them  all.  There  was  a 
somewhat  prolonged  pause. 

"I  think  spring  really  has  come,  don't 
you?"  asked  Elaine  at  last. 

"I'd  say  so — yes.  definitely." 

There  was  another  pause;  he  saw  that  she 
was  waiting  for  him  to  say  something,  and  a 
feeling  of  irritation  rose  within  him.  He  was  a 
busy  man,  and  he  had  come,  on  a  fine  Satur- 
day afternoon,  on  what  he  had  been  led  to 
believe  was  an  urgent  errand ;  he  had  done  it 
to  repay  some  courtesies  the  general  had  once 
extended  to  him,  and  he  was  anxious  to  do  as 
much  as  or  as  little  as  possible  and  go  back 
to  his  flat  at  Hampstead. 

"  I  came  to  see  what  I  "ould  do  about  this 
announcement,"  he  began.  "I  promised  the 
general  I  would  do  something." 

"Oh. "•■'Elaine  hesitated,  feeling  that  she 
could  scarcdy  explain  that  Paul  had  just 
come  to  a  decision  to  do  nothing  at  all.  It 
was  very  kind  of  Mr.  W'arwick,  especially  as 
(Conlitmed  on  Pane  129) 


\ 


\ 


\ 


BECAUSE  ONLY  ?e^f)(A£(!£ 


OFFERS  SUCH 
LUXURY  SHEETS 


^jfattc^t4/i^  Ca&t^  IN 

SUCH  Buxl^(5t-Pcmf)CAi/n^  ]^/iic^ ! 


AT 


If  you  love  luxury,  but  have  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  budget,  Lady  Pcppcrcll 
Sheets  are  the  buy  for  you !  Colors  are  so  exquisite,  yet  these  beauties  with  so 
much  extra  glamor  cost  only  pennies  more  than  Lady  Peppcrcll  white  sheets. 
That's  true  of  both  regular  Lady  Pepperells  and  Lady  Peppercll  S.nug  Fit* — 
the  new  wonder  sheet  made  with  corners  fitted  to  hug  your  mattress.  In 
muslin  or  percale,  in  white  or  colors,  there  are  no  thriftier  sheets  made! 

AND  BECAUSE  PEPPERELL  BRINGS  ME  BLANKETS  OF  MIRACLE  DYNEL! 

These  new  blankets  are  wonders — mothproof,  mildewproof,  shrink-  and 
stain-resistant  thanks  to  Dynel,  the  new  man-made  fibre.  They're  luxuri- 
ously textured,  cuddly  warm — the  most  practical  blankets  ever! 

•TRAIiE-MARK  — PEPPERELL  MANUFACTURING  COMPANY,  BOSTON,  M.\SS. 

LADY  PEPPERELL 


Her  eyes  as  stars  of  twilight  fair, 
Like  twilight's,  too,  her  dusky  hair. 
But  all  things  else  about  her  drawn  ' 
From  May-time  and  the  cheerful  dawn. 

WORDSWORTH 


(('(mliiiiicd  fnim  I'an,-  127) 

•  didn't  look  like  i\  man  who  liked  inler- 
riiiK  ill  otiuT  people's  ail  airs. 
She  was  eilher  paralyzed  by  shyness,  Mr. 
arwick  was  deciding,  or  she  was  menially 
■lic  ienl.  Ill  eilher  ease,  she  was  a  very  Kood- 
jkinu  woman.  I  le  knew  little  atxnil  women. 
L'  had  reached  the  a^;e  of  (ifly  without  mar- 
iiiK,  <'iii<i  liiid  never  renrelted  the  fact. 
"Have  you  known  (he  Keneral  lon^?" 
ked  I^laine  conversalionally. 
"No    yes,"  said  Mr.  Warwick.  He  l(M)ked 
Klaine    she  was  cool,  i)lacid  and  com- 
.■tely  unmoved.  If  he  left  mat ters  to  her,  lie 
)uld  he  sillinn  here  until  nightfall.  "Was 
at  your  son  I  iieard  talkiiiH  in  here?" 


Ilii  .  .  .  Paul,  yes,"  murmured  Elaine, 
)nderinK  how  much  he  had  heard. 
"And  it  was  Paul's  name,  was  il  not,  (hal 
peared  in  the  bo^us  announcemeul  ?" 
"  Bonus,"  murmured  Klaine.  "  Ho^;us.  Isn't 
;it  a  nice  word?  Ho).;us.  People  have  called 
I'  announcemeul  all  sorts  of  Ihin^s.  but  I 
e  bot^us  best ." 

"Your  brother-in-law,"  said  Mr.  War- 
ck,  struu.ulinji  on,  "said  that  your  son  iiad 
recollection  of  Mile,  de  Brulais." 
"No.  I'm  afraid  she's  bo^jus  too." 
"Could  he  have  forgotten  her?" 
"Oh,  (|uile  easily!  Paul  knows  a  ureal 
iny  Kirls-  Hi^'  could  have  forj^otten,  of 
.irse,  but  I'm  sure  he  didn't." 
"Can  you  tell  me  anything,"  asked  Mr. 
[irwick,  "that  would  point  to  anybody 
10  has  any  special  feeling  against  him?" 
"Nobody,"  staled  lilaine.  "has  any  feel- 
;  against  him.  The  only  people  who  dis- 
prove of  him — in  some 
,ys— are  his  uncles.  Do 
u  know  any  of  the  Sax- 
5  besides  the  general?" 
"No —  I'm  afraid  not. 
ok,  Lady  Saxon,  hadn't 
belter  go  into  this  busi- 
is  of  your  son's?  I  really 
1  promise  the  general." 
she  smiled,  and  it  struck 
n  -  suddenly  and  with  great  force— that 
;  must  once  have  been  very  beautiful, 
e  had  a  pretty  voice  too. 
'The  most  sensible  thing  for  you  to  do," 
d  Elaine,  "would  be  to  talk  to  Paul." 
at  would  be  best.  Paul  would  tell  him  at 
:e  that  they  were  going  to  leave  the  mat- 
as  it  stood.  "I'll  call  him,"  she  said,  ris- 
;.  "Oh,  Paul,  there  you  are." 
rhe  door  had  opened,  but  unfortunately 
'.  Warwick,  hurrying  to  open  it  for  Elaine, 
s  now  standing  behind  it. 
'Has  he  gone?"  inquired  Paul. 
'No— he's  behind  the  door,"  said  Elaine 
mly.  "His  name  is  Mr.  Warwick.  He's 
m  Scotland  Yard,  and  your  Uncle  Oswald 
ced  him  to  come.  Do  sit  down,  Mr.  War- 
;k,  won't  you?  Paul,  Mr.  Warwick  wants 
ask  you  about  this  bogus  announcement." 
"Oh — no!"  begged  Paul. 
"Oh,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Warwick  grimly, 
ren't  you  anxious  to  get  to  the  bottom  of 
And  if  not,  shouldn't  you  be?" 
"Yes."  Paul's  voice  was  sober.  "Yes,  I 
Dpose  I  should.  And  if  somebody'll  tell  me 
;  answer,  I'll  be  glad  to  know  what  it  is— 
t  I'm  not  prepared,  frankly,  sir,  to  spend 
'  last  four  or  five  weeks  in  England  behav- 
;  like  a  ferret  down  a  hole.  My  mother 
d  I  agreed— five  minutes  before  you 
■ne- that  we'd  let  the  whole  thing  drop." 
"Well,  in  that  case,"  stated  Mr.  Warwick, 
f  you're  satisfied,  I'll  leave  things  as  they 
But  your  uncle's  going  to  be  rather 
noyed." 

"Couldn't  you  give  him  the  idea — without 
sleading  him,  of  course — that  you're 
inking  the  matter  over?"  asked  Elaine 
titly. 

"Start  a  file  on  it,"  suggested  Paul,  "and 
Dve  papers  into  it  every  now  and  then." 
Mr.  Warwick  looked  from  one  of  them  to 
e  other  and  smiled.  "Y'our  standards,"  he 
Id  them,  "are  considerably  lower  than 
ne.  I  shall  tell  the  general  the  truth." 
"You  can  only  tell  him  half  the  truth," 
inted  out  Elaine.  "You  can't  give  us 
'ay.  You  can  say  you've  dropped  the  case, 
t  it  would  be  mean  to  tell  him  that  we 
opped  it  first — wouldn't  it,  Paul?" 


It  is  the  business  of  the  fu- 
ture to  be  dangerous. 

ALFRED  NORTH  WHITEHEAD 


"Treacherous,"  aKieed  I '.ml,  ■  al- 
ways susiHftted  that  we  iuiven'l  any  family 
feeling,  and  this'll  conlirm  il.  We  shall  Ix- 
outsiders." 

"I'arialiH."  said  Elaine.  "I'aul.  why  don't 
you  ask  Pelsy  to  hurry  lea  up?  Mr  War- 
wick, wouldn't  you  like  some  Ua?" 

"I'd  love  some  tea,  thank  you,"  said  Mr. 
Warwick  with  sincerity,  "but  I'm  not  ({oihk 
lo  stay  and  have  some.  Not  UKlay.  I  think 
the  general  will  be  coming  in,  and  I  don't 
feel  I've  got  very  much  to  re|jorl  lo  him." 

"Well,  come  another  day,  when  the  hue 
and  cry's  over,"  said  Elaine. 

"Thank  you.  I  will,"  H;nd  Mr.  Warwick, 
and  meant  il. 

Mr.  Warwick  had  timed  his  departure 
well,  for  only  ten  minutes  after  he  had  left, 
Petunia  admilled  ( leneral  Saxon.  Elaine  did 
her  besi  lo  look  |)leased  at  the  general's 
arrival,  and  begged  him  to  be  sealed.  The 
general,  however,  preferred  to  stand;  he  said 
that  he  was  i)aying  a  short  visit  only.  Had 
the  others  been  back  since  visiting  Selcourt 
Street,  and  if  so,  what  had  happened  there? 

"Paul  got  back,  but  I  don't  know  where 
he  went  later,"  said  IClaine  with  a  vagueness 
by  which  she  hoped  to  avoid  telling  untruths. 
"He  didn't  siiy  anything  much." 

"Anything  much?"  repeated  Oswald.  "He 
goes  on  an  errand  of  that  kind  and  comes 
back  and  you  have  nothing  lo  tell  me!" 

"I  think  Hugo  and  Louise  would  tell  you 
all  that  happened,  if  they're  in  now.  Paul 
said  they  were  rather  upset." 
"Upset  about  what?" 
"About  something  that  woman  said.  She 
told  their  fortunes." 

"She  Look  here," 

said  the  general,  "are  we 
talking  about  the  same 
matter?  I'd  be  very  glad, 
Elaine,  if  you'd  keep  your 
mind— for  once— on  what's 
being  said." 

"I'm    sorry,  Oswald. 
Couldn't  you  ask  Hugo? 
He'd  tell  il  all  so  much  more  clearly." 

"Well,  tell  me  what  you  can,"  the  gen- 
eral said.  "Did  they  have  any  trouble,  or 
didn't  they?  Is  a  demand  for  money  at  the 
back  of  it  all?" 

"No — oh,  no,  I  don't  think  so,"  said 
Elaine,  "although  I  don't  suppose  she  told 
their  fortunes  for  nothing— she  is,  after  all, 

a  professional  and  " 

"Who,"  demanded  the  general,  "are  you 
talking  about?" 

Elaine,  sitting  on  the  sofa,  gave  a  helpless 
little  shrug.  She  was,  she  realized,  making 
herself  foolish,  but  she  had  little  to  tell,  and 
the  general's  manner  always  gave  her  the 
feeling  that  she  was  being  cross-examined. 

"I  wish,"  said  Oswald  suddenly,  "that  I'd 
gone  myself.  But  I  couldn't  be  in  three  places 
at  once.  I  saw  the  Times,  and  I  went  in  to 
ask  Douglas  Warwick  to  take  up  the  matter." 
"Oh,"  said  Elaine,  "became  here." 
"  Did  he  have  any  theories?  " 
"He  said  he  thought  the  announcement 
was  bogus." 

"Well,  I  could  have  told  him  that.  I'll  go 
in  and  have  a  talk  with  him  on  Monday,  and 
see  what  he  thinks." 

"Oh  — aren't  you  going  back  before  Mon- 
day?" asked  Elaine  in  obvious  disappoint- 
ment. "  I  thought  you  were  only  up  for  a  day 
or  two." 

"I  came  up  for  a  few  days,  but  I've  de- 
cided to  stay  on  indefinitely.  I've  got  a  room 
at  my  club.  Incidentally,  I  met  Ursula  at 
lunch.  Was  there  anything— any  misunder- 
standing—between Paul  and  Ursula?  Julia 
and  I  agreed  that  we'd  never  seen  Paul  with 
a  more  presentable  young  woman.  Birth, 
breeding— she's  also  got  brains  and  more 
than  her  share  of  looks.  What  more  does  a 
young  man  want?" 

Elaine  could  have  told  him  that,  in  Ur- 
sula's case,  Paul  had  wanted  a  good  deal 
more:  a  kind  heart,  an  unselfish  disposition 
and  a  sense  of  humor,  none  of  which  Ursula 
possessed  in  any  marked  degree. 

"I  don't  think  that  Paul  was  ever  serious 
about  her,"  she  said. 

(Conlinued  on  Page  131) 


YA  R  D  L  E  Y 


r 

■HH  \ 

Nothing  so  subtly -expresses  ttie  charming 

woman  you  are  as  English  Lavender's 
lilting  fragrance— so  feminine, 
so  fresh.  A  unique  blend  of  rare  and 
precious  ingredients,  it  is  luxurious 
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(Conlittuitl  from  I'tmc  I2<>j 
■kirious?  Docsn'l  he  reali/i'  tlial  Uisnl.i 
ninul'"!  could  tnarry  anybody  atiy- 
?" 

liiinc  found  luTSflf  wondering  wliy,  wiili 
iiiii(|iic' opporlnnitic's,  Ursula  had  cotm- 
lie  ant'  <*'  tvvi'nly-six  without  choosinu 
«)dy.  Paul  'iff'  "ol^'  displaced 
serious  suitors.  She  made  no  coiiiiiu  iii . 
L'vcr. 

Well."  K'H'i'*'''  Oswald  ailcr  a  liinr, 
■y  were  seeing  a  n<">d  dfal  ol  cai  li  otlin 
re  lliisiiappcncd." 

liiit  he'd  dropped  her  ionj.;  hetore  lliis," 
IClaine  unguardedly. 

•;  would  have  taken  back  her  words  if 
could,  for  their  effect  on  Oswald  was 
nint;. 

Did  1  understand  \'ou,"  he  asked  ui  a  low, 
hie  voice,  "to  use  llu'  word  'dropped  ' ?  " 
A'ell  -yes,"  said  ICiaine. 
[  would  like  you  to  understand,"  said 
;ild  with  dignity,  "that  younn  men  do 

have  occasion  to  droi)  anybody  like 
ila  llannin^iton.  If  there  was  any  reason 
riiii;;  an  attachment  to  an  end,  I  can  as- 

yoa  that  the  impulse  would  not  come 
I  the  man's  side,  i)ut  from  Ursula's.  I 
Id  be  very  much  obliged  if  you  would  not 
llie  term  ajjain  in  this  connection." 
Not  if  you  don't  want  me  to,"  agreed 
[le,  "but  facts  are  facts.  I  feci  it's  wrong 
c,  knowinu  I'aul's  mind,  to  let  you  hope 
mything  between  him  and  Ursula.  He 
iped  her." 

wald,  with  an  air  of  coolness,  ignored  her 

is  and  drew  out  his  watch.  "I'm  going 

he  said,  "to  see  Hugo  and  Louise.  Per- 

!  I  can  get  a  lucid  account  of  this  morn- 

!  business  out  of  them." 

'ics,  do,"  said  Elaine  with  open  relief. 

ey're  sure  to  be  home  by  now." 

ugo  and  Louise,  however,  were  not  home 

n  the  general  called  on  them.  They  were 

hat  moment  seated  on  a  bench  in  the 

lie  late  afternoon  light  showed  Hugo's 
;ard  face  and  Louise's  pallor.  They  had 


HC-arcely  eaten;  ihey  liad  gone  back  to 
Lowndes  Crest:enl  for  a  meal,  but  after  ai- 
lempling  to  eat  ihey  had  driven  lo  the  park, 
I'  ll  llie  tar  and  walker!  and  lalketl.  Now 
Ihey  sal.  reviewiiH',  onee  iiinri'  the  day'n  lev- 
elalions. 

"  There's  not  much  to  >.;<)  on,"  sjiid  lliino 
wretchedly. 

"  There  could  Im'  more."  urged  l^nnse.  She 
li  id  regained  a  good  deal  of  her  normal 
sensible  manner,  "If  we  were  back  on  Mon- 
day and  presented  ourselves  as  a  pair  ol  ordi- 
nary clients  who  wunlc'd  to  have  ilieu  for- 
I  lilies  told,  she    — " 

'  I  dciii'i  like  it.  I  don't  like  it  at  all,  Aiul 
III  I'  ll  \nu  ihe  iriilli.  I^Hi,  I  don't  lliiiik  I 
could  ^;ei  myself  in  that  room  again.  I've 
never  believed  in  .ill  this  sorl  of  thing,  anrl 
I've  always  thoiighl  it  dangerous." 

"Hut  if  she  knew  so  much  aiul  yon  can'l 
deny  she  knew 

"1  (km'l  deny  she  said  some  uncanny 
things,  but  now  that  I've  had  some  giKxl 
fresh  air,  I'm  inclined  to  slick  to  what  I  said 
about  hypnosis.  We  could  (|uite  well  have 
imagined  that  she  was  saying  something, 
when  in  reality  we  were  thinking  cverylhiiii' 
ourselves." 

"And  if  that's  the  case."  said  I/niise,  "how 
do  you  account  for  Paul?  He  lii'ard  what  we 
did." 

Hugo  was  silent, 

"I  don't  understand  you,"  said  U)uise. 
"For  years  you've  lived  under  a  cloud." 

"Nonsense."  said  Hugo.  "I 

"Under  a  cloud.  Oh.  nobody  says  any- 
thing, and  I  don't  supjiose  they  even  discuss 
it  now,  but  you  know,  and  I  know,  that  you 
were  the— the  victim  of  a  monstrous  in- 
justice. Now  you've  been  given  a  glimpse  — 
only  a  glimpse— at  what  really  hapix-ned. 
and  you  refuse  to— to  take  up  your  own 
cause  and— and  light." 

l^)uise  paused,  a  little  breathless.  It  was 
the  longest  speech  she  had  made  for  many 
years,  and  her  brother  looked  at  her  grate- 
fully. 

"You're  a  stanch  girl,  Lou,"  he  said,  "but 
we've  been  over  it  all.  I  a.gree  to  it  all— 


Never  Underestimate  ihe  Power  of  a  Woman ! 


iliinigli  I  Hiill  leel  I'm  flreaiiiiiiK.  Slic  kMikt-d 
at  dial  cryitial  alfaii  and  Ht  ciiicd  lo 

"Slif  didn't  K  «  rii  anylliing,"  iiiat«-d  I^kii  < 
"She  tiHiitioned  iliiiigH  that  ,tv*liody  ii<. 
a  Hingle  miiiI    could  |)i>tMl)ly  havi-  kixtwn; 
about  (he  blue  handbag  miiIi  (In-  dci.  'n  uw 
It,  and  (he  blue  Huiinliiide  and  li  i 
who  walked  wKti  a  limp  'Tlia(  v. a  .hi 
who  liur(  Ills  foo(  and  lim|ii*d  for  a  wwk 
how  could  anyone  know  (lia(?" 

"Mii(  what  can  we  do?"  ankerl  Hugo. 

"Uail  a  moiiien(  le('n  <leal  lirwl  with 
what  liapiKiied  Cap(aiii  Si,  Clair  brought 
over  his  charger  for  you  (o  (ry  il  had 
thrown  him  the  day  Ix  fore  and  hi«  arm  was 
in  a  slm^;,  W  hile  yrju  (ric<l  i(.  he  held  your 
coa(  and  in  your  coat  was  the  key  (o  your 
dispatch  case  and  m  the  dispa(cli  citHc  were 
the  |)a|H  rH,  Af(er  a  time,  as  it  was  hot.  he  Haid 
he'd  pii(  the  coat  indtNirs,  He  went  m,  and  he 
was  in  there  long  enough  to 

"Hut  I>ou  " 

to  take  the  key,  o|H'n  the  cane  and 
remove  the  pa|M-rs," 

"  Mill  why?  We  were  friends.  He  did  all  he 
could  to  help  me  when  " 

"What  flid  he  do?"  demanderl  UniiHc. 
"  I  le  called  re^iiilarly.  he  bit  his  hp  and  sjiid  il 
was  a  i)afl  business,  he  told  yon  he  had 
talked  to  inople  on  your  l>elialf  aiifl  at  the 
lime,  we  believed  him.  Bill  now  I  don't.  You 
remember,  al  one  time  nobody  th(>ught 
he'd  go  very  far  in  the  service  and  l(X)k 
where  he  did  go.  He  ended  up  a  major  gen- 
eral and  the  director  t)f  half-a-dozen  com- 
panies. Ill-  not  only  got  you  out  of  tin;  way. 
he  also  li.xed  himself  in  everybody's  minds  as 
the  man  wIkj  behaved  so  well  and  did  all  he 
could  to  help  you." 

"Well,  even  if  all  that's  true,"  said  Hugo, 
"it  d(x;sn't  help  us.  Look,  L^ju,  haven't  you 
gone  off  into  a  siding?  Our  mission  wasn't  to 
discover  who  stole  my  papers;  it  was  to  clear 
up  Paul's  business.  That's  what  we  were  sent 
there  to  do." 

"Sent  there.  Quite  so — sent  there  by 
Oswald."  said  Louise,  with  dry  contempt. 
"Ordered  out  like  a  couple  of  corporals." 

"  Well— he  did  give  us  the  job." 

"He  did.  And  he  can  have  it  back,"  said 
Louise  with  finality. 

Paul  woke  on  the  following  morning  with  a 
feeling  of  delightful  anticipation.  It  was  Sun- 
day; he  was  going  to  see  Antonia.  He  sprang 
out  of  bed,  his  voice  raised  in  joyous  three- 
four  time: 

"Sweet  Sunday  morning,  oh 
Street  Sunday  mar — ■ — •" 

"For  the  love  of  heaven,"  said  Philippa, 
entering  and  shutting  the  door  with  a  bare 
foot,  "can't  you  stop  that  caterw^auling?  It 
isn't  eight  yet.  What's  bitten  you?" 

OTHiNG,"  declared  Paul,  "ever  bites  me. 
I  don't  keep  that  kind  of  company.  Turn  on 
the  bath  water  for  me,  w-ill  you?" 

"Not  yet."  said  Philippa.  getting  into  his 
bed  and  drawing  the  covers  closely  round 
her.  "  Not  till  you've  told  me  who  it  is." 

"Who  who  is?" 

"Who  she  is.  You  haven't  sung  Sweet 
Sunday  Morning  since  we  were  at  school. 
What's  her  name?" 

"Ursula." 

"I  know  jolly  well  you've  dropped 
Ursula.  Did  you  have  trouble?" 

"Entirely  betw^een  ourselves."  confided 
Paul.  "I  had  a  lot  of  trouble.  But  she  had 
nothing  to  get  hold  of.  We  dined  and  we 
danced— usually  in  company — and  that  was 
all." 

"With  the  exception  of  some  lunches,  sev- 
eral shows  and  one  or  two  race  meetings." 

"  Well,  perhaps.  How."  he  asked,  sitting  on 
the  end  of  the  bed  and  studying  his  sister, 
"are  your  affairs  working  out?" 

Philippa  frowned.  "I'd  like  to  ask  you 
something." 

"  I  can  tell  you  before  you  ask,"  said  Paul. 

"I'm  talking  about  " 

"          about  Robert  Meredith."  Paul 

walked  to  the  foot  of  the  bed  and  stared  at  his 
sister  soberly.  "I  know  you  are.  Phil,  but  I 
know  him  a  good  deal  belter  than  you  do, 
and  I  honestly  think  you're  off  your  beat." 


EE] 


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132 


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Philippa  regarded  him  calmly.  "If  I  told 
you  that  I  was  in  love  with  him— really, 
deeply --what  would  you  say  ?  " 

"  I 'd  say  you'd  read  the  symptoms  wrong," 
answered  Paul  promptly,  "and  I'd  follow 
that  up  by  advising  you — and  I  mean  this — 
to  think  a  bit  before  you  let  yourself  in  too 
deeply.  You've  got  a  lot  of  young  men  on 
your  list,  all  ready  and  eager  to  lead  you  to 
the  nearest  altar.  Bob  Meredith's  different- 
he's  a  decent  fellow  and  I  like  him,  but  even 
at  school  his  mind  was  never  anywhere  but 
in  the  science  laboratories.  Have  you  ever 
got  him  to  take  the  slightest  notice  of  you?  " 

"No,"  said  Philippa,  " I  haven't." 

"Then  there's  your  answer,"  said  Paul. 
"Bob  has  never  had  a  mind  on  girls,  and 
unless  you've  got  a  degree  in  hydraulics,  you 
can't  hope  to  say  anything 
that'll  interest  him." 

"Scientists  get  mar- 
ried," pointed  out 
Philippa. "I  didn't  fall  in 
love  with  him  because  I 
wanted  .o — it 's  been  creep- 
ing up  on  me  for  years." 

Paul  looked  at  her  for  a 
few  moments  in  frowning 
perplexity.  "But  you  cant  go  on  for  years 
and  years,  just  hoping  that  he'll  look  at  you 
one  day  and  register  the  proper  emotions." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  can,"  said  Philippa,  "but 
that's  not  what  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about. 
I  wanted  to  ask  you  to  get  me  an  invitation 
to  the  lunch  they're  giving  that  American 
professor  on  Tuesday  week." 

"Is  Bob  going  to  be  there?" 

"Yes,  he  is." 

"And  you  think  he'll  take  his  mind  off 
scientific  exchanges  long  enough  to  remember 
who  you  are? " 

"He  may,  and  he  may  not." 

Paul  said  no  more.  He  sat  on  the  bed,  and 
they  faced  each  other,  thinking  their  own 
thoughts,  until  the  door  was  opened  cau- 
tiously and  Barney's  head  appeared  round  it. 

"  I  heard  you  talking,"  he  said.  "  Is  break- 
fast going  to  be  early  today?" 

"Not  as  far  as  I  know,  but  since  you're 
up,"  said  Paul,  "you  might  slip  down  and 
bring  up  the  papers." 

"Can  I  borrow  your  slippers?"  asked 
Barney.  "It's  cold  in  the  hall." 

He  went  out  wearing  Paul's  slippers,  in 
which  he  was  obliged  to  shufifle  along  with  a 
great  deal  of  difificulty. 

"What's  the  hurry?"  asked  Philippa,  as 
the  door  closed  behind  him.  "Last  Sunday 
you  nearly  murdered  Barney  when  he  tried 
to  wake  you  hours  after  breakfast.  It  must 
be  this  girl." 

"It  must  be,"  agreed  Paul  equably. 

"What's  her  name?" 

"Antonia.  D'you  hke  it?" 

Philippa  considered.  "Not  particularly," 
she  said  at  last.  "Dark?  Fair?" 

"Dark— very  dark.  Small.  She's  got  a 
fringe.  And  she's— well,  sort  of  petite." 


You  can't  use  paper  to 
wrap  up  fire. 

—CHINESE  PROVERB 


"A  fringe  sounds  ominous.  Paul,  you  don' 
really  like  her,  do  you — I  mean,  more  tha 
all  the  others?"  ^ 
Paul  turned  from  the  door  and  faced  j 
with  a  frown  of  annoyance.  "  I 'm  very  tiim 
he  said,  "of  this  assumption  that  I'm  a  bat' 
terfly  tripping  among  the  honeypots.  I'lt 
going  to  bring  Antonia  home  soon,  audi 
you— if  any  of  you — so  much  as  give  her  thf 
idea  that  I 've  ever  looked  at  a  girl 
I  '11  grind  you  into  small  pieces." 

"If  she's  a  girl  with  any  sense, 
Philippa,  unmoved,  "she  won't  need  td' 
told.  Are  you  bringing  her  today?  " 

"No— not  today.  I'm  going  to  take 
out  to  lunch  today.  Tell  mother  I  won't  be 
to  lunch  or  tea.  And  if  things  go  well,  I  wonfl 
be  in  until  about  ten  tonight." 

He  ran  his  bath,  shaved] 
and  lay  in  the  warm  watei 
dreaming  of  the  pleasur( 
the  day  was  to  bring.  ai( 
couldn't  have  had  mi 
fun,  living  in  that  appall 
house  and  working  wi( 
those  two  harridans, 
tha  Pembury  and  her  hardj 
faced  sister.    He  woi 
take  her  to  all  the  places  she'd  never  been' 
He  would  marry  her  and  carry  her  away  wit! 
him.  They  would  be  happy— oh,  so  happy 
ever  after.  Oh  

"Sweet  Sunday  morning,  oh 
Sweet  Sunday  morning,  oh 
Ser-weet  Sunday  morning  in 
May." 

It  was  eleven  when  Paul  reached  Selcourj 
Street.  He  brought  the  car  to  a  standstill 
outside  No.  89,  marched  briskly  up  the  patr 
and  came  to  a  stop  outside  the  front  door 

It  was  open.  He  walked  quietly  up  thi 
stairs  and  stopped  at  Antonia's  door,  and 
thirty  seconds  later— was  still  standing  be-' 
fore  it  with  the  full  knowledge  of  the  blo' 
that  had  befallen  him.  She  was  not  there. 

Paul  stood  on  the  landing,  unable,  for  thi 
moment,  to  decide  what  to  do.  She  might 
have  gone  out  to  buy  a  paper.  He  wouli 
wait.  He  would  go  back  and  sit  in  the 
until  she  returned. 

He  turned  to  go  downstairs,  and  gave  ; 
slight  start;  an  old  gentleman,  noiseless  iri 
felt  slippers,  had  descended  from  the  flighj 
above.  He  carried  a  large  bag  which  looked 
so  heavy  that  Paul  instinctively  put  out  t 
hand  to  take  it  from  him,  and  then,  with  <i 
remembrance  of  the  odd  behavior  of  thd 
house's  inmates,  withdrew  it  as  hastily.  Tha 
old  man  obviously  took  the  gesture  as  cm 
of  greeting ;  he  gave  a  stiff  little  bow. 

"Emblatt!"  he  said. 

Paul  might  have  thought  this  a  foreigr 
salutation,  but  he  had  seen  the  name  writter 
on  a  card  and  fastened  to  the  hall  door. 

A  clatter  above  made  him  look  up,  and  h( 
saw  descending  the  stairs  one  of  the  ok 


ulC| 

caj 


4»lli4'r  Vi<>wN  of  Vogu4>  l*all«'rnN  on  I'atSew  <»»  &  (»» 


Vogue  De.sif;"  iN<>-  7887. 


Vogue  Design  N<».  7908. 


Vogue  Design  No. 
Vogue  Design  No. 

Vogue  Design  No. 

Vogue  De.sign  No. 


7738, 
7929. 

7962. 

7909. 


One-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  .30  to  38.  75c.  For  con- 
trasting collar  and  cuffs  on  polka  dot,  add  yard; 
for  collar  on  navy,  J4  yard;  for  ribbon  on  pink,  2 
yards;  for  ribbon  on  eyelet,  2  yards. 

Hat;  one  size,  22— 22J^  inches  bead  size.  Designed  by 
Mr.  John  P.  John  of  Mr.  John  Inc.  75c. 

Cap;  one  size.  40c. 

"Easy-to-Make"  bat,  scarf  included  in  the  pattern.  21 

to  23  inches  bead  size.  50c. 
Cushion  beret;  1'?.—T1V2  inches  bead  size.  Designed  by 

Mr.  John  P.  John  of  Mr.  Jobn  Inc.  75c. 
Hat;  one  size,  22— 22K  inches  head  size.  Designed  by 

Mr.  Jobn  P.  Jobn  of  Mr.  Jobn  Inc.  75c. 


7887  V, 


I 


EXPOSE 

your  own 

natural 

beauty 


FOU  N  DATION 


This  is  the  new  makeup  that's 
cream-misted  to  go  on 
smoother  — last  longer  —  make 
you  look  prettier  from 
the  moment  you  put  it  on. 
Sheer  Beauty  Liquid  Foundation 
7  shades,  1.25  and  1.75  (plus  lax) 

PARIS   '  ONQON    NEW  YORK 


I.kIks  lie  liad  noticed  yesterday.  Slie  laiiied 
.1  basket,  and  tliis  lime  I'aul  o)uld  startely 
ij'.nore  her;  lie  put  out  a  hand  anrl,  with  a 
re^;al  air.  she  surrendered  her  hiirdeii. 

■'Oh.  thann  you,  ihan^  you    yes.  (han^ 
you ! "  slie extlainied.  "  1 1  is  t(jo k<xxJ.  Conie 
I  shall  show  you  where." 

She  went,  with  surprising  UKiiity  for  one 
MO  longer  youiin,  down  the  stairs.  In  the  hall, 
she  turned  toward  Ihe  kilihen  and  Paul  s;iw 
that  she  meant  to  destend  Ihe  lower  lln;hl. 
In  tiial  case,  he  rellecled  with  a  sense  of 
fatality,  they  were  all  on  I  heir  way;  he  made 
a  swift  inovemeni  pasi  ihe  lady  and  |X)s- 
scssed  himself  of  ilu'  old  man's  hax,  which 
IHOved  to  he  as  heavy  as  it  looked.  Its 
owner,  surprised  hut  clearly  ple.ised,  ^;ave 
another  lillli'  lx)w. 

The  stairs  were  sleep.  'I  he  old  l.idy,  t.ilk- 
inn  voluhly,  went  (irst,  the  old  man  followed 
and  I'aul  hrounlit  u|)  Ihe  rear  and  found  iiiin 
self  in  the  kilchen 

It  was  a  lai  ^e  room,  dark  ;iii<l  r.ioomy,  wii  li 
an  enormous  deal  lahle  in  the  center.  I'aul 
swunu  his  burdens  oiilo  the  table  and  made 
as  if  lo  no.  but  Ihe  slout  lady  put  out  a  b< 
ringed  hand  and  detained  liim. 

"Ah,  no!"  she  impkded  in  her  rich,  deep 
voice.  "  You  shall  not !  Sie  all  I  make  is  the 
coffee,  and  you  shall  take  some." 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  I'aul.  "I   " 

"Hut  yes,  yes,  yes.  yes.  yes!  Noliody  shall 
refuse  when  1  ask  with  my  heart !  So  kind  as 
you  have  been,  will  you  leave  me  withotii 
sharing  my  coffee?  See— you  shall  ^rind  it." 

It  was  incredible,  but  he  was  urindiuK  ii. 
He    Paul  Denholme  Stead  Sa,\on  wa 
slandinn  in  a  semibasement  kilchen  in  ;i 
semisluin,  ^rindinK  coffee  for  a  no  doubt  forc- 
ibly retired  German  opera  singer. 

Paul  finished  his  grinding  and  brushed  hi- 
hands. 

"I  really  must  go,"  he  said  firmly.  "It's 
very  good  of  you.  but  I  have  an  appoint- 
ment." He  ran  up  the  staircase  and  found 
hinTself  confronted  at  the  top  by  the  care- 
taker, who.  stood  barring  the  door. 

"So.  Same  again ! "  he  growled  menacingly. 

"Out  of  the  way.  Chenka,"  said  Paul.  He 
had  heard  light  footsteps.  He  glanced  up 
and  his  heart  thumped;  he  was  right.  Up  the 
stairs  he  went  after  her.  He  caught  her  up  at 
the  top. 

She  was  wearing  the  black  suit  in  which 
he  had  seen  her  the  day  before,  with  a  small 
black  hat.  She  looked  up  at  him,  and  the 
delicate  brows  went  up. 

"You!" 

"Me.  Same  again."  said  Paul.  "I 've  been 
here  hours — all  the  morning,  waiting  for  you. 
And  I've  been  grinding  coffee  for  Mme. 
Olsen,  or  Frau  Olsen  or  Fru  Olsen — who 
cares?  Miss  Wyatt— Antonia—good  morn- 
ing!" 

Antonia  was  smiling.  She  opened  the  door 
and  looked  up  at  him.  "Are  you  coming  in?" 

"You  don't  suppose."  said  Paul.  "I  rose 
at  dawn,  cut  short  my  breakfast,  and  pre- 
sented myself  here  shortly  after  it.  in  order 
to  stand  out  on  the  landing,  do  you? " 

"Well  ...  sit  down,  won't  you?" 

"There's  no  lime  to  sit  down."  said  Paul. 
"  I 've  come  to  take  you  out  lo  lunch." 

"Oh"— she  made  a  little  sound,  half  dis- 
may, half  distress.  "I'm  so  sorry— I  can't 
do  that!" 

"But  you've  got  to  eat,"  argued  Paul 
reasonably,  fighting  off  panic. 

Her  voice  was  quiet,  her  manner  un- 
emphatic.  but  over  him  crept  the  feeling 
that  the  kind  of  pressure  he  was  used  to 
applying  would  have  no  effect  upon  her. 
"You  see,  it  isn't  only  my  own  lunch  I 
cook— I  could  leave  that,  of  course— but  it's 
Mme.  de  Brulais'." 

"Mme.  de  Brulais'?  But  it's— it's  mon- 
strous!" cried  Paul.  "You  can't  stay  in  on  a 
glorious  morning  like  this  to  keep  that  crea- 
ture alive!  Do  let's  go  out.  Antonia— 
please!  We'll  buy  something  for  the  old— 
the  old  girl  and  bring  it  back  to  her." 

Antonia  smiled,  and  shook  her  head.  "  I'm 
so  sorry,"  she  said  softly.  "I've  got  to  go 
down  and  start  all  this  cooking.  It  seems 
inhospitable,  but  —you'll  have  to  go." 

"  Not."  said  Paul,  glaring  down  at  her,  "on 
your  life.  You  owe  me  a  meal ;  you've  done  us 


The  most  famous  suit  in  America 
begins  with  Celanese*  acetate 


ORIGINAL  WONDER  FABRIC  IN  WEATHER- 
VANE  SUITS  RESISTS  WRINKLES,  MOTHS, 
SHRINKING 

Literally  millions  of  Americans  live  in 
the  crisp  suits  Handniacher  turns  out 
under  the  name  of  'Vt  eathervanes". 
The  secret  of  these  suits  is  a  very  defi- 
nite fabric — firm,  handsome,  and  some- 
how beautifully  tailored  looking.  The 
secret  of  this  fabric  is  Celanese*  acetate. 

ACETATE  IS  THE  "BEAUTY  FIBER" 

Called  the  "beauty  fiber",  acetate  is 
truly  a  wonder  liber.  It  helps  fabrics 
shed  wrinkles  and  mollis  astonishingly. 
It  can  give  them  a  crisp,  clean  surface. 
And  it  helps  keep  every  line  of  their 
tailoring  beautifully  in  shape. 
If  you've  never  worn  Handmacher's 
Weathervane  suits,  you'll  find  them  at 
one  fine  store  in  your  city.  You'll 
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Acetate  fabric  feels  remarkably  crisp,  makes 
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year  'round,  come  in  pastels,  black,  browTi, 
navy.  Suits  shown  are  $25. 


ACETATE,  the  beauty  fiber 


one  of  the  world's  great  textile  fibers 


New  finer  MUM 


stops  odor  {ongef! 

NOW  CONTAINS  AMAZING  NEW 
INGREDIENT  M-3  TO  PROTECT  UNDERARMS 
AGAINST  ODOR-CAUSING  BACTERIA 

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•  Creamier  new  Mum  is  safe  for  normal 
skin,  contains  no  harsh  ingredients.  Will 
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•  The  only  leading  deodorant  that  contains 
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CREAM  DEODORANT 

A  Product  oj  Bristol-Myers 


both  out  of  a  perfectly  good  lunch  in  the 
country.  You  can't  expect  me  to  go  home 
and  have  my  mother  giving  up  half  her  lunch 
to  me.  If  you  can't  come  out,  you  needn't 
throw  me  out;  you  can  at.  least  feed  me." 

"But" — Antonia's  small  hands  came  up 
in  a  slight,  helpless  gesture — "but  I  haven't 
enough  lunch  for  you." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Paul  comfortably. 
"I'll  have  half  Mme.  de  Brulais'." 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  gave  a  little  shrug  and  a  smile.  "Very 
well." 

He  stood  watching  her,  his  tongue  aching 
with  the  effort  of  holding  back  the  questions 
he  longed  to  put.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
Paul  was  at  a  loss  with  a  woman.  He  wanted 
to  know  everything  about  her,  but  he  was 
afraid  to  ask— yet.  Instead,  he  put  a  casual 
question. 

"What  were  you  doing  this  morning?  " 

"This  morning — when  you  came?"  An- 
tonia  looked  surprised.  "I  was  at  Mass,  of 
course." 

"Mass?  Oh,  then  you're  a — a  Catholic?" 

"Yes.  And  you?" 

"Church  of  England." 

He  followed  her  down,  carrying  the  uten- 
sils, and  soon  they  were  in  the  kitchen.  Paul 
took  obediently  the  knife  Antonia  handed 
him  and  went  to  work  on  some  carrots. 

It  was  Douglas  Warwick's  habit  to  walk, 
every  Sunday  afternoon,  to  Hampstead 
Heath  in  order  to  get  fresh  air  and  exercise. 

On  this  Sunday  afternoon,  however,  he 
found  himself  making  his  way  by  tube  to 
Lowndes  Crescent.  As  he  went,  he  framed 
well-sounding  sentences  in  his  mind,  tried 
them  over  to  himself  to  test  their  ring,  and 
discarded  them  as  hollow. 

He  approached  the  Crescent  with  his 
spirits  sinking;  No.  10,  No.  12 — there  was 
still  time  to  turn  back;  No.  14  .  .  .  No.  16. 
Well,  he  was  going  in,  he  decided  sturdily. 

Pausing  for  a  moment  before  pressing  the 
bell,  he  looked  squarely  and  firmly  at  his 
reasons  for  coming.  None.  Not  one,  he  told 
himself  grimly.  Only  an  urge  to  meet  again 
the  only  pleasant  woman  he  had  seen  for 
years.  He  liked  her;  he  liked  the  large,  fresh- 
looking  rooms;  he  liked  that  young  Saxon 
and  he  would  like  to  meet  his  sister  and  his 
younger  brother.  They  were  a  family,  and  he 
missed  family  life.  He  had  come  to  tea  with 
them— that  was  all. 

His  arrival  caused  some  consternation  in 
the  house.  It  was  recognized  that  neither 
Petunia  nor  Lotus  was  on  duty  on  Sunday 
afternoons — an  arrangement  which  resulted 
in  a  good  deal  of  argument  between  members 
of  the  family  as  to  who  would  get  the  tea, 
but  caused  no  inconvenience  over  the  matter 
of  answering  summonses  from  the  front 
doorbell,  since  nobody  ever  required  to  be  let 
in  at  that  lime.  Though  willing  to  be  called 
uix)n  any  other  day  of  the  week,  Elaine  and 
her  children  regarded  Siuiday  afternoon  as 
a  time  to  be  given  up  to  personal  matters; 
Elaine  did  her  mending,  Barney  sorted  his 
boxes  of  mechanical  parts  and  Philippa  ex- 
perimented with  a  series  of  nail  varnishes 
and  hair  tints,  shampoos  and  styles;  even 
Paul  had  been  known  to  tidy  his  papers. 
All  these  interesting  occupations  took  place 
in  the  drawing  room. 

^Mr.  Warwick's  summons,  on  this  Sunday 
afternoon,  had  an  extremely  upsetting  effect. 
It  was  some  time  before  anybody  heard  it  at 
all.  Elaine,  with  a  sewing  basket  by  her 
side  and  some  soft  white  fabric  on  her  knee, 
was  planning  a  round  trip  to  some  Conti- 
nental ports.  Philippa  had  washed  her  hair 
and  it  was  now  swathed  in  a  turban  of  pale 
pink  toweling;  she  and  Barney  were  seated 
on  the  long  piano  stool,  with  a  hymnbook 
before  them,  and  while  Philippa  played, 
Barney  sang. 

In  an  interval  between  one  hymn  and  the 
next,  Barney  put  his  head  on  one  side. 
"Thought  I  heard  something,"  he  said. 

"Can't  be  the  doorbell,"  said  Philippa. 
"Nobody'd  come  at  this  time." 

"There  it  goes  again— the  bell,"  said 
Barney.  "Shall  I  go?" 

"Well,  yes,  of  course,"  said  Elaine.  "I 
suppose  Paul's  forgotten  his  key." 


"Well,  if  it  isn't  Paul,  look  at  my  hair," 
said  Philippa.  "I'll  have  to  go  up  to  my 
room— blast!"  She  gathered  a  few  of  her 
scattered  belongings  and  went  upstairs. 

Barney  opened  the  front  door  and  stood 
looking  in  frank  surprise  at  the  visitor. 

"How  do  you  do?  "said  Mr.  Warwick. 

"Oh— how  do  you  do?"  said  Barney.  "Do 
you  want  to— I  mean,  I  suppose  you'd 
better  come  in." 

Mr.  Warwick,  a  little  uncertain,  followed 
him  inside.  At  the  door  of  the  drawing  room 
Barney  ushered  the  visitor  in. 

"Mother,  somebody's  come." 

Elaine  looked  at  the  visitor,  tried  earnestly 
to  remember  who  he  was,  and  rose  to  her 
feet  with  an  appearance  of  cordiality.  "How 
do  you  do,"  she  said.  "Won't  you  sit  down." 
It  was  the  man,  she  now  remembered,  who 
had  come  yesterday.  The  one  from  Scotland 
Yard;  his  name  had  gone,  but  perhaps  he 
would  say  something  that  would  

Mr.  Warwick  had  seated  himself.  "  I  hope 
this  isn't  an  intrusion,"  he  said. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Elaine.  "I'm  so  sorry 
Paul  i^n't  in — and  I  don't  know  when  he'll 
be  in,  I'm  afraid."  She  paused.  "My 
brother-in-law— General  Saxon— is  still  in 
London,  I  believe,  but  I  don't  expect  to  see 
him  today." 

This,  too,  passed  Mr.  Warwick  by,  but  he 
had  by  now  framed  his  own  excuses.  "I'm 
not  often  round  this  way  of  a  Sunday,"  he 
said,  "but  I  just  happened  to  find  myself 
passing,  and  I  hoped  you'd  forgive  me  if  I 
came  in  and  accepted  the  tea  you  offered 
me  yesterday."  He  gave  her  a  shy  but  ir- 
resistible smile;  it  was  out,  and  she  couldn't 

■■■■■■■■■■■■■ 

It  never  was  loving  that  emptied  tlie 
lieart,  nor  giving  tiiat  emptied  the 

purse.  —OLD  PROVERB 

■■■■■■■■■■■■■ 

say  he'd  beaten  about  the  bush — it  was  clear 
and  direct. 

Elaine  found  it  far  too  direct.  Sunday  tea 
was  a  scratch  meal,  good  enough  for  family 
consumption  but  not  calculated  to  impress 
visitors.  She  glanced  at  the  clock  and  looked 
hopefully  at  Barney. 

"Barney,  would  you  " 

"  I  got  tea  last  week  and  the  week  before," 
said  Barney.  "Can  I  ask  Philippa  to  do  it?" 

"  Yes — do.  Go  and  tell  Philippa  to  do  the 
tea  and  bring  it  in." 

He  raced  upstairs,  pausing  outside  Phi- 
lippa's  room.  "Mother  sent  me  up,"  he  said, 
"to  ask  you  to  do  the  tea  and  bring  it  in." 

Philippa,  curled  up  on  her  bed  reading, 
looked  up  with  a  frown.  "Why  can't  you  do 
something  for  a  change?" 

"A  change?  A  change !  I  got  it  last  week— 
you  know  I  did,"  shouted  Barney.  "And  the 
week  before.  AND  the  week  before  that. 
I  " 

"  Yes,  I  know.  You  broke  one  of  the  best 
cups." 

"Hey,  hey,  hey!"  came  Paul's  voice  frotn 
the  doorway.  "You  can  hear  you  two  yelling 
all  the  way  down  the  stairs.  What's  the  row? 
And  who's  in  the  drawing  room?" 

"It  sounds  like  the  one  who  came  yester- 
day—the Scotland  Yard  one,"  said  Philippa. 

"What's  he  want?" 

"I  don't  know  what  he  wants,"  said 
Philippa,  "but  I  wish  he'd  go  away.  I  sup- 
pose he's  come  to  talk  to  you." 

"Can't  see  why,"  commented  Paul.  "He 

and  I   "  He  paused  and  looked  at 

Barney.  "How  much  to  make  the  tea?"  he 
asked. 

"Half  a  crown." 

"A  bob,"  said  Paul. 

"Why  can't  I  get  five  shillings  an  hour?" 
asked  Barney  indignantly.  "It  isn't  my  or- 
dinary day  to  do  it— it's  overtime." 

"A  bob,"  repeated  Paul.  "Take  it  or  leave 
it." 

"What  happens  if  I  leave  it?" 
"Well,  you  leave  it — and  you  still  get  the 
tea." 

"Gimme,"  said  Barney. 


Shilling  in  hand,  he  went  downsta 
whistling,  and  Philippa  looked  at  Paul. 

"You're  early,"  she  said.  "I  thought  y 
were  going  to  make  a  day  of  it." 

Paul  made  no  reply ;  seated  on  the  bed, 
was  going  over  the  day's  events.  It  had; 
turned  out  quite  as  planned.  She  had  coi 
out  for  a  drive— not  a  long  drive,  but  th 
had  at  all  events  got  out  of  the  house  foi 
time.  She  said  little,  and  one  wouldn't  c 
her  vivacious,  but  she  had  other  ways  th 
that  of  speech  in  which  to  express  1 
thoughts;  sometimes  it  was  by  a  moveme 
of  her  small,  brown  hands,  sometimes  by 
expressive  shrug.  Most  of  all,  her  eyes  i 
fleeted  her  swift  changes  of  mood— th 
could  twinkle  at  his  attempts  to  amuse  hi 
or  dance  at  his  discomfiture.  They  could  lo 
aloof,  interested— they  could  even  look  coi 
It  was  a  pity  that  he  could  not  look  at  the 
when  he  was  driving— but  he  could  hear  h 
soft,  beautiful  voice. 

"Which  way  would  you  like  to  go,  A 
tonia  Miss  Wyatt?" 

"This  way,  that  way— wherever  you  lili 
but  I  mustn't  be  too  long."  i 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  I 'm  going  out  to  tea."  ' 

He  would  have  given  almost  all  he  had 
find  out  where  she  was  going,  and  with  whor 
she  must  have  friends,  but  the  thought jL 
her  spending  time  with  them,  when  |l 
might  spend  it  with  him,  was  maddeninj' 

"Miss  Wyatt." 

"Yes?" 

He  glanced  at  her  for  a  moment.  "Wli 
not  Antonia,  Antonia?"  .| 

"Oh"— she  made  a  Uttle  sound  as  if  c^j 
sidering  the  matter— "well,  then  I  shoul 
have  to  call  you  Paul,  and  then  we  shoul 
appear  to  outsiders  to  know  each  other  . . 
better  than  we  do." 

"You  weren't  thinking  of  calling  me  S 
Paul?" 

"Why  not?"  Antonia  leaned  back,  an 
the  ends  of  her  scarf  blew  up  and  dance 
round  her  head.  "I  like  saying  Sir  Paul;  i 
has  a  reassuring  sound." 

"May  I  call  you  Antonia,  Antonia?" 

"Certainly,  Sir  Paul." 

"And  will  you  tell  me  something  abou 
yourself,  please?" 

"Anything." 

"Anything?" 

"Almost  anything." 

"Oh.  Well,  first,  you  were  born.  Where? 

"Naples.  I  told  you — my  mother  wa 
Italian.  My  grandfather's  name  was  An 
tonio." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"Go  on,"  invited  Paul. 
"'^  "I  was  waiting,"  said  Antonia.  "When 
say  that,  I  always  wait  for  people  to  mentioi 
the  ice-cream  cart." 

"The — oh,  I  see!  A  sort  of  reflex,  liki 
stepping  into  your  room  and  saying  'oasis'.' 

"Yes — like  that." 

"Was  your  father  English?" 

"Yes.  He  was  teaching  in  Naples,  and  h( 
met  my  mother,  and  they  were  married  then 
and  I  was  born  there." 

"And  then  you  came  to  England?" 

"Not  until  I  was  eight — it  was  after  m; 
mother  died.  My  father  and  I  lived  in  vari 
ous  houses  in  London — my  father  was  stil 
teaching.  Then  we  went  to  live  in  Selcour 
Street.  It  was  a  nice-looking  house  when  m; 
father  first  went  there.  Comparatively,  tha 
is.  He  was  ofi'ered  a  fifteen-year  lease  of  ; 
flat  at  a  ridiculously  low  figure — and  hi 
took  it.  I  can  live  there  for  almost  nothing 
I  know ;  it's  terrible,  but  I  often  go  and  lool 
at  other  rooms,  and  the  ones  I  could  afforc 
aren't  so  very  much  better  than  Selcour 
Street.  And  I  can  save  money  for  the  thing 
love  most  in  the  world." 

"Clothes?" 

"No." 

"Theaters?"  ' 

"No.  Going  to  Italy.  I've  done  it  mon 
often  than  I  ever  hoped  I  could.  I'm  going  t( 
Florence  next  month." 

No,  she  wasn't,  he  swore  to  himself 
gripping  the  wheel  in  the  fervor  of  his  vow 
She  was  going  with  him  to  Africa;  ever; 
moment  between  this  and  the  time  of  hi 
(Continued  on  Page  130} 


\ 


Soft-Weve  is  two  thicknesses  of 
heavenly  softness  . . .  and  because  it's 
double,  Soft-Weve  has  all  the  practical 
firmness  you  need,  too.  Ask  for  this  gentle 
tissue  by  name  next  time.  Another 
great  Scott  paper  value. 


"SOFT-WCVE"  BEO.  u,  s.  F*T.  Orr. 


136 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


Mar.  |j9i 


most  make-ups  shout   IN/IftclG  lip  ! 

Magic  Touch  whispers  'Natural  Beaufy 


Your  Magic  ToulH  Cream  Make-up  is  so  subtle,  so  unobtrusive 
that  your  new,  wondrously  beautiful  complexion  looks  like 
your  very  own.  Makes  you  appear  a  person  with  lovely,  natural 
coloring  and  smooth,  flawless,  fine-textured  skin.  Hides  every 
little  imperfection — with  never  a  hint  of  that  "made  up"  look. 

So  easy  to  put  on — 

Such  magic  blending  ! 

Rub  your  fingertips  lightly  over  creamy  Magic  Toucli. 
Then  with  gentle  strokes,  smooth  it  on  face  and  throat, 
beginning  with  iorehead.  Replenish  the  cream  on  finger- 
tips as  needed.  No  clumsy  sponge  or  puff,  no  liquid  to  drip 
or  bottle  to  leak,  no  powder  to  spill. 


^    So  soft  on  your  skin — 

So  pleasant  to  use  ! 

Blends  like  magic,  without  streaking.  (Smoothing  with 
fingertips  gives  perfect  color-depth  control — longer  smoothing 
lessens  color.)  Your  skin  will  feel  so  velvety  solt — looh  so 
naturaUy  youthful,  fresh  and  clear.  Magic  Touch  is  new. 
(Don't  confuse  with  any  other  cream  or  stick-type  make-up.) 


^    Flawless  beauty — 

Natural-looking  loveliness  ! 

Look  in  your  mirror!  Your  complexion  is  flawless,  allur- 
ing. For  a  dewy,  fresh  look,  use  Magic  Touch  without 
powder.   Powder  over  lightly  for  a  long-lasting,  smooth 
mat-fmish.  (MagicTouchisneveroilyor 
greasy  looking — even  without  powder.) 


43tand  $1.00 


(Continued  from  Page  134) 
departure  was  going  to  be  spent  working, 
planning,  praying  for  that. 

He  heard  Philippa's  voice,  and  brought 
his  mind  back  to  the  present.  "She  seems 
more  elusive  than  all  the  others,"  she  was 
saying. 

He  got  up  slowly  and  stood  looking  at  her. 
"Do  me  a  favor,  will  you?  Don't  ever  say 
those  words  again." 

"What  words?"  asked  the  astonished 
Philippa.  "I  didn't  say  anything." 

"You  said  'all  the  others.'" 

"  I  only  "  She  broke  off  and  stared  at 

him.  "You  mean — you're  really  serious?" 

"Quite,  quite  serious,"  said  Paul  slowly. 

"You  mean — this— Antonia?" 

"This  Antonia." 

"But  .  .  .  you  mean  you  got  on  as — as 
quickly  as  all  that?" 

"  If  you  swear  to  keep  it  to  yourself,"  said 
Paul,  "  I  '11  tell  you  the  awful  truth:  I  haven't 
got  on  at  all." 

"Don't  tell  me— don't  tell  me  the  fatal 
ch.'  rm  didn't  work ! " 

"I  don't  know  whether  it  didn't  work," 
confessed  Paul,  "or  whether  she  has  such  a 
quenching  effect  on  me  that  it  can't  operate. 
I  Well,  what?"  he  asked  Barney. 

"Tea,"  said  Barney.  "I've  been  yelling 
my  head  off.  Y'ou'd  better  come  down, 
Paul— after  all,  it's  you  he's  come  to  see." 

"All  right,"  grumbled  Paul,  preparing  to 
descend.  "I  thought  he'd  agreed  to  drop  all 
this  sleuth-hound  business.  Come  on — let's 
go  down  and  see  this  fellow." 

"It's  a  bit  hard  on  mother  having  to 
have  him  all  this  time.  After  all,  it's  you  he's 
come  to  see." 

"Yes,"  said  Paul.  "I  suppose  it  is." 

It  was  a  conviction  that  was  to  remain 
with  Elaine  and  her  family  for  almost  two 
weeks  longer. 

Ursula's  plan  to  drive  somewhere  had  not 
appeared  to  Oswald  to  indicate  more  than  a 
lift  from  his  hotel  to  a  restaurant  in  town.  He 
was  somewhat  dismayed  to  learn  that  they 
were  on  their  way  to  an  extensively  pa- 
tronized roadhouse  some  distance  away. 

Their  lunch  had  been  long-drawn-out,  but 
agreeable  until  the  moment  came  for  the  pay- 
ment of  the  bill,  when  Oswald  had  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  prices  charged  were 
based,  not  upon  the  food  served  but  on  the 
time  clients  took  to  eat  it.  He  wished  that  the 
modern  woman  smoked  and  drank  less,  but 
he  was  forced  to  admit  that  Ursula  did  both 
with  a  maximum  grace  and  assurance. 

It  was  almost  five  before  Ursula  left  him  at 
his  club.  He  decided  that  he  would  have  a 
light  meal  and  go  early  to  bed;  he  was  more 
tired  than  he  had  realized.  He  would  retire 
early  and  walk  round  the  next  day  to  see 
Hugo  and  Louise.  He  rose  late,  and  was 
obliged  to  put  off  his  visit  to  Lowndes 
Crescent  until  the  afternoon. 

Louise  was  not  to  be  seen  when  he  arrived 
at  the  house.  She  had  seen  Oswald's  ap- 
proach, and  making  her  way  hurriedly  to  the 
study,  put  her  head  in  and  addressed  Hugo. 

"Oswald's  coming;  if  you  don't  mind,  I'll 
stay  in  my  room  until  he's  gone." 

Hugo  knew  what  the  words  implied.  It  was 
understood  between  them  that  they  had 
done  all  they  felt  possible  to  help  Paul ;  the 
matter  was  one  to  be  cleared  up  by  those  in 
authority.  It  would  be  no  use  tendering  a 
resignation  to  Oswald,  however.  A  certain 
amount  of  evasion  would  be  necessary,  and 
Louise  was  removing  herself  and  leaving 
Hugo  to  decide  how  far  evasion  could  go 
without  falling  into  falsehood. 

"  I  haven't  seen  Paul  since  Saturday  morn- 
ing," began  Oswald,  seating  himself  com- 
fortably. "Tell  me  what  happened.  Elaine 
went  off  on  some  gibberish  about  a  fortune- 
teller." 

"That  was  correct  enough,"  said  Hugo. 
"We  went  there  and  saw  the  place  and  this 
Mme.  de  Brulais  turned  out  to  be  a  fortune- 
teller, as  Elaine  told  you.  We  didn't  have 
much  success  at  making  her  listen  to  us— in 
fact,  I'm  convinced  she  didn't  know  the  first 
thing  about  who  we  were  or  why  we'd  come. 
If  she's  ever  heard  of  the  Times,  I'll  be  sur- 
prised." 

"Then  somebody  used  her  name." 


by  REGIS  PAINE, 

beauty  consultant 

New  look  for  tired  sweaters. 

The  magic  of  a  steam  iron 
works  wonders  on  often-worn 
woolen  sweaters.  Just  gently 
press  with  stamping  motion 
and  watch  your  favorite  winter 
wear  come  to  life  again.  Every 
sweater  girl  knows  underarm 
daintiness  can't  be  guarded  too 
carefully.  This  calls  for  Yodora 
— the  sure  beauty-cream 
deodorant  that  keeps  you 
wonderfully  fresh  and 
oh,  so  comfortable. 


Good  form  for  forma/s 

White  shoulders  and  whi 
ties  demand  perfect  groo 
and.  above  all,  smooth 
underarm  loveliness.  In 
shaving  under  arms  be  su 
your  blade  is  new,  your  n 
clean.  Shave  downward, 
slowly  and  gently,  to  avo* 
unattractive  scratch  mark' 
Then  apply  Yodora,  the ' 
deodorant  beauty  cream ' 
soothes  and  beautifies  yo 
underarms — keeps  you  ^ 
dancing  fresh,  sweet  and 
glamorous  all  through 
the  night. 


Scot  fo  mid-winter  blues. 

Change  your  outlook  with 
a  new  hair-do.  Beat  the  season 
with  a  bunch  of  gay  artificial 
flowers  pinned  to  your  coat, 
your  belt,  or  worn  pertly 
on  a  dress. 


One  thing  sure  that  always  lifts  the  spirits 
is  knowing  you're  just  as  lovely  and  desir; 
as  you  can  be,  because  gentle  Yodora  is 
safely  and  surely  protecting  you  from  the 
slightest  trace  of  perspiration  odors.  You  fi 
so  fresh  and  you  stay  that  way  all  day 
through.  (Yodora  keeps  your  underarms 
lovelier,  too,  because  it  smooths  and  softer 
your  skin  as  it  guards  your  daintiness.) 

Tiihes  or  Jors—10</.  SSf,  60<t 


I  L-  11  o  d  O 


<1  o  r  €1 


McKesson  &  Robbins,  Bridgeport,  Co 


liU'  likely.  Hill  if  they  did,  ilu  y  crod- 
:t  with  a  dauKlilL-r  thai  she  hasn't  Kot." 
she  hasn'l,  Ihin  somotxxly's  usin^;  her 
a  decoy,"  pronoiinted  Oswald, 
len  why  weren'l  Ihey  llu  rc  lo  see  us?" 
cause  they  expected  you  lo  no  as  s(K>n 

siiw  the  notice,  that's  why.  We'll  foi- 
up.  S()inehK)dy  at  that  house  is  wailing 
js,  and  we  shan't  disappoint  them." 

a  matter  ot  tact"    llu^o  paused  to 

his  words  carefully  "  I  can  tell  you 
au!  was  there  a^;ain  this  morning." 

was?" 

s."  IhiKo  saw  with  relief  lliat  his  slate- 
passed  willioul  cross-examination, 
was  no  need  to  explain  how  he  knew  of 
presence  at  No.  89. 
se  had  slept  l)adly  on  Sunday  niuiil 
id  risen  determined  to  jjay  a  second 

I  Mnie.  de  Hrulais  not  on  I '.mi's  l)e- 
iit  on  Hugo's. 

0  had  argued  and  expostulated  in 
le  had  driven  her  lo  Selcourt  Street  at 
nid  on  leaviuK  the  building  they  had 
ist  in  lime  to  see  Paul's  car  stop  befori' 

Paul  nettinn  out  and  noinn  into  the 

II  had  been  a  pleasant  si^ht  for  I  hi^o; 
vas  pursuing  matters  on  iiis  own 
t   a  wise  and  manly  proceeding. 

1  i;lad  he's  not  his  teeth  into  it,"  com- 
1  Oswald.  "I'll  riuK  him  up  and  ask 
come  and  see  me." 

ask  Paul  to  alonn  to  your  club," 
jiio.  "How  about  tonight?" 
lid  hesitaled.  "No,  not  tonight.  Pve 
"d  lo  dine  with  Ursula.  Pni  keeping 
ouch  with  this  affair— she's  naturally 
:ed." 

lid  rose  in  dignified  silence  and  t(x)k 
/e,  and  Hugo  walked  next  door  and 
lis  nephew  alone  in  the  drawing  room. 
Ilo,  there,"  said  Paul,  with  a  warmth 
:  his  relief  at  finding  that  the  visitor 
t.  as  he  feared,  his  Uncle  Oswald, 
ropped  in,"  Hugo  said,  "hoping  I'd 
alone." 

"  said  Paul  noncommitlally. 

ir  Uncle  Oswald's  just  left  me.  He's 

0  ask  you  to  his  club  sometime  to- 
'  to  have  a  talk  with  him." 

"  said  Paul  expressionlessly. 

1  dropped  in."  Hugo  fidgeted  a  little. 
'I  want  you  to  think  that  your  Aunt 
and  I  aren't  anxious  to  help  you  in 
tter,  but  we're  of  the  opinion  that  it's 
t  to  the  experts." 


SHI 
BELONGS 
TO  YOU 


CTUALLY,  of  course,  no  one  is 
L  set  apart;  we  all  belong  to  human- 
;  and  the  real  goal  that  we  would 
lieve  is  a  goal  that  everyone  wishes 
achieve.  It  is  a  goal  of  many  com- 
xities— this  goal  of  normal  living.  It 
luires  that  we  attain  dignity  as  bu- 
rn beings,  that  there  is  some  good, 
d-given  reason  for  our  existence, 
ne  purpose  for  us  to  fulfill.  It  requires 
it  we  be  worthy  of  love— both  the 
ing  and  the  receiving  of  it. 
[  must  live  the  day  as  it  comes  to  me, 
1,  if  I  am  wise,  I  will  live  it  tenderly, 
when  it  is  gone  it  is  a  day  that  has 
aped  into  eternity.  Perhaps  here  is 
■  key  to  the  real  goal  we  would  seek : 


EASTER  SEALS 


I'And  I  think  so  too,"  njnd  I'aul, 

"To  tell  y<ju  the  Irulli,"  went  on  Huko 

your  Aunt  buiiHc  m  IhorouKhly  u|»i*fl  over 
what  Mine,  de  Hmlais  told  uh  I  ^ave  in  ihi» 
'"'"^"'"H  •■">fl  ffrove  her  to  Sclcourl  Sired 
VVe  sjiw  you  as  we  came  away,  and  I  wa« 
glad  to  see  you  were  followiiiK  up  malterit  by 
yourself.  Did  you  Imd  om  anything?" 

"I    no,  I  didn't,"  silid  Paul. 

In  (he  comfortable  pause-  thai  followed,  he 
(joked  the  he  m  i\w  (ju,.  ^,,(1  (,  ||  „„  ,,ualm. 
He  had  found  out  a  ureal  deal,  ihoiiuh  not 
anything  that  would  have  interesled  lim 
uncle,  lie  had  found  out  what  lime  Anionia 
came  home  lor  luiuh.  lie  had  loiiiul  out  dial 
although  she  had  friends  male,  he  bitterly 
sus|)ected  who  called  at  the  Hho|)  al  live 
o'clock  and  look  her  out,  he  was  the  lirsl  who 
liad  shared  her  luncheon  salad. 

I  h'  came  out  of  Ins  reverie  lo  see  his  uncle 
i)reparing  lo  leave,  and  walked  lo  the  front 
d(K)r  with  him. 

"You  didn't  tell  mc,"  lu-s;iid.  "what  hap- 
pened when  you  and  Aunt  U)uise  went  hack 
this  morning.  Did  she  learn  any  more?" 

"Nothing,"  s;iid  Hugo.  "There  was  noth- 
ing Ix-yond  a  lot  of  disconnected  mutlering, 
and    now  and  again    the  name  Mandalay." 

"  Is  Aunt  Louise  going  on  with  it  now?" 

"Now  more  than  ever,"  said  Hugo  gkxjin- 
ily,  as  he  left. 

Paul  found  tiiat  one  hour  in  the  middle  of 
the  day  was  but  a  meager  pro|x)rtion  of  the 
full  twenty-four.  Perfect  though  the  hour 
spent  in  watching  Anionia,  in  helping  or 
hindering  Anionia,  it  did  not  comi)ensate  for 
the  long  evenings  spent  in  dreaming  of  her  as 
she  gave  unknown  but  hated  persons  the 
privilege  of  her  company.  Monday  evening 
was  long,  Tuesday  evening  interminable  and 
Wednesday  evening  not  to  be  faced.  He  had 
begged  her  to  break  her  other  engagements 
and  come  out  with  him ;  she  had  met  his  pleas 
gently,  but  without  giving  way  to  them.  She 
could  not  put  off  engagements  with  old 
friends  in  order  to  go  out  w^ith  somebody  she 
had  known  for  only  three  or  four  days.  On 
Thursday  she  was  free  and  they  would  have 
an  evening  together. 

Paul's  patience  snapped  at  exactly  half 
past  four  on  Wednesday  afternoon.  Getting 
into  his  car,  he  drove  to  Flora's,  a  small  but 
expensive  flower  shop  in  Bunch  Street.  He 
got  there  at  a  quarter  to  five;  it  was  loo  early 
for  Antonia  to  leave,  but  there  would  be  no 


A  BEAUTY  COURSE 


fOR  KITTY    .  .        IN  EVERY  CAN 


Barbara  is  misl'l>  proud  l>f<au»«-  she  has 
just  taken  her  first  steps,  thanks  t€>  Ireut- 
iiient  and  training  reeei\e<l  at  an  Kaster 
Seal  center  sponsored  by  th*'  Naticnial  So- 
ciety for  Crippled  Children  and  Adults.  Vou 
can  help  her  continue  her  treatinenl  by 
using  Kaster  Seals. 

to  see  the  world  clearly  as  the  only 
world  that  ever  will  be  given  to  us— at 
least  within  this  planetary  system  — 
and  to  see  it  for  what  it  is:  a  world  that 
gives  us  each  day  to  live  but  once. 

—From  a  slalenieni  by  Earl  Schenck  Miers.  who  is 
cerebral  palsied,  before  the  annual  conrenlion  of  the 
National  Society  for  Crip  filed  Children  and  Adults. 


HELP 

CRIPPLED  CHILDREN 


Fro///  //rr/r/  fo  foe  rafs  o'/oir  a//f/  f/row 

;  .../// 

V/GO/l  /^EAUTV 


On  a  Puss  'n  Boots  diet,  your  cat  quickly 
shows  the  benefits  of  good  nutrition 

What  a  joy  to  see  your  cat  really  at  its  best... full  of  fun... 
handsome.  And  that's  your  reward  when  you  put  your  pet  on  a 
scientifically  balanced  diet.  You  see  beauty  you  never  dreamed 
of ...  a  glossier  coat,  sparkling  eyes,  a  sunny  disposition. 

Puss  "n  Boots  IS  a  balanced  diet... far  more  perfect  than  any 
you  can  improvise.  It's  the  choice  of  veterinarians  and  breeders 
\\h(i"\  c  studied  cat  nutrition.  It's  fed  by  millions  of  pet  owners. 

HERE'S  HOW  PUSS  'N  BOOTS  ADDS  THE  PLUS 

It  assures  your  cat  of  all  the  proteins,  carbohy- 
drates and  minerals  it  needs.  It's  a  rich  source  of 
vital  Vitamin  D.  Puss  "n  Boots  is  made  from 
fresh-caught  whole  fish  with  selected  cereals 
added... no  scraps  or  by-products  or  fillers.  It's 
made  just  ]or  your  cat.  Choose  the  convenient 
8-ounce  can  or  the  economy  15-ounce  size. 


Coast  Fisheries,  Division 
of  the  Quaker  Oots  Co., 
Wilmington,  California 


PUSS  n  BOOTS 

AMERICA'S  LARGEST  SELLING  CAT  FOOD 
..ADDS  THE  PLUS  IN  HEALTH  AND  BEAUTY! 


Meadow  Gold  ^ 
^  Mealtime 
Adventures 


Recipe  for  Butter  Dainties 

1  cup  Meadow  Gold  Butter 

14  cup  Meadow  Gold  Cottage  Cheese,  drained 

and  sieved 
1  cup  sugar 

1  Meadow  Gold  Egg  yolk 
1  tap.  vanilla 

1  tsp.  finely  grated  lemon  rind 
2V2  cups  sifted  flour 
Vz  tsp.  salt 

tsp.  cinnamon 

Cream  butter  and  cheese  together  until 
light  and  fluffy.  Add  sugar  gradually  and 
continue  creaming.  Beat  in  egg  yolk,  van- 
illa and  lemon  rind.  Sift  flour,  salt  and  cin- 
namon together  and  add  to  creamed  mix- 
ture; mix  well.  Press  through  cooky  press, 
forming  various  shapes  on  ungreased  cooky 
sheets.  Decorate  with  colored  sugar  if  de- 
sired. Bake  in  moderate  oven  (350°)  12-15 
minutes  or  until  delicately  brown.  Cool  on 
cake  racks.  Makes  7  dozen  cookies. 


FoT  the  best  in 
cooking  and  eating, 
always  ask  for 
Meadow  Gold  Ice 
Cream,  Butter, 
Eggs,  Milk  and 
Cheese  —  if  it's 
Meadow  Gold 
it's  mmmighty  good  ! 

©  I  953.  BEATRICE  FOODS  CO 


FREE  RECIPE 


Ham  Supper  ^^^^^ 
Cheese  P.e^On  ^^^^^  of 
Write         '\o.,  Dept. 
?\ri20tlaSaUe  St., 

Chicago  i, 


harm  in  going  in  to  have  a  friendly  chat  with 
Lady  Pembury  and  her  sister  Olivia— hard- 
faced  harridans  both,  he  considered,  but 
twin  guardians,  nevertheless,  at  the  gate  of 
the  citadel.  He  had  spent  a  good  deal  of 
money  at  the  shop,  and  Bertha  Pembury, 
moreover,  had  married  a  godson  of  Aunt 
Julia. 

Paul  parked  his  car  behind  a  trim  vehicle 
that  was  standing  outside  the  flower  shop; 
he  saw  at  the  wheel  a  young  man  reading  a 
book,  and  in  an  instant  had  sized  up  the  situ- 
ation accurately:  this  lizard  was  waiting  for 
Antonia. 

After  a  glare  that  took  in  the  date  and 
value  of  both  the  car  and  its  owner,  Paul 
looked  up  at  the  flower  shop's  sign  and  with 
a  businesslike  air,  opened  the  door  and  went 
inside. 

The  welcome  from  Lady  Pembury  was  all 
he  could  have  desired. 

"My  dear  Paul ! "  She  was  large,  handsome 
and  beautifully  dressed.  "How  nice  to  see 
you.  How  is  your  mother?" 

"She's— oh,  she's  very  well,  thanks.  How 
is  Olivia?" 

"She's  magnificent— magnificent,"  said 
Bertha.  "She  did  the  entire  decorations  for 
the  Ponsonby  wedding— were  you  there?" 

"Yes,  I  was  there — they  looked  beauti- 
ful," said  Paul,  who  had  not  noticed  the 
decorations. 

"  Everybody  said  so — everybody.  She'll  be 
so  pleased  you  liked  them — I  must  tell  her." 
Lady  Pembury  stretched  her  neck  toward  a 
cream-colored  door  at  the  back  of  the  shop. 
"O-liv-i-c/?.'  Here's  Paul,  my  dear— he  wants 
to  talk  to  you  about  those  beautiful  effects 
you  got  at  the  Ponsonbys'." 

Olivia,  a  younger  edition  of  her  sister, 
pressed  Paul's  hand  in  gratitude.  "You're 
sweet  to  have  noticed  them,"  she  said.  "I 
thought  I  got  the  colors  rather  well." 

"Beautifully,"  said  Paul.  "They  were — I 
don't  know  quite  how  to  put  it — they  were, 
so  to  speak,  original .  .  .  new." 

"That's  what  I  thought,  too,"  said  Bertha. 
"And  now,  what  can  we  choose  for  you,  and 
where  shall  we  send  it?" 

"  I  can  guess,"  said  Olivia,  with  a  touch  of 
coyness.  "  We  don't  read  our  Times  for  noth- 
ing, do  we.  Bertha?" 

Bertha  brought  one  white,  beringed  hand 
down  with  a  thump  on  the  other.  "I'm  wool- 
gathering, dreaming,  out  of  my  mind!  Paul, 
my  dear,  my  congratulations.  Now  you  must 
tell  us  who  she  is.  Helga— as  I  said  to  Olivia, 
it's  not  English,  surely?" 

There  was  a  blank  pause.  The  two  ladies, 
beaming,  looked  at  Paul  and  Paul  returned 
their  gaze,  his  expression  one  of  complete 
noncomprehension.  He  had  come  into  the 
shop  with  one  idea  predominant,  and  the 
name  Helga,  together  with  the  circum- 
stances under  which  she  had  entered  his 
life,  were  far  from  his  thoughts.  The  wide 
smiles  of  the  sisters  now  became  arch  and 
knowing. 

"You  see.  Bertha" — Olivia's  voice  was 
openly  triumphant— "I  told  you.  Don't 
think"— she  turned  to  Paul— "that  little 
whispers  haven't  been  going  about." 

"Whispers?"  repeated  Paul. 

"Only  among  old  friends,  naturally,"  said 
Olivia.  "  Ursula  dropped  me  a  hint — just  a 
hmt — and  of  course  we  haven't  let  it  go 
any  further.  Paul— tell  me,  has  Scotland 
Yard  managed  to  find  out  anything  about 
it?" 

"No— nothing,"  said  Paul. 

"They  will,  of  course,"  promised  Bertha. 
"Ursula  says  that  your  Uncle  Oswald  has 
got  on  to  a  very  good  man — has  he  dis- 
covered anything?" 

"No — nothing,"  said  Paul. 

Anger,  slow  and  black,  was  welling  up 
within  him.  He  had  come  in  to  talk  of  An- 
tonia. He  had  been  resolved  to  introduce  the 
topic  tactfully;  he  had  planned  to  charm 
Bertha  into  unconsciousness  and  lure  Olivia 
into  allowing  him  to  go  backstage  and  talk 
to  Antonia.  But  the  plan  was  not  working; 
these  two  gossipmongers  stood  in  front  of 
him,  eager,  avid  for  details  of  his  private 
life. 

"I  wonder,"  he  said,  "whether  I  might 
ask  you  something." 


Bertha  blinked  a  little  in  surprise. 
"Why — certainly,"  she  said. 

"I  know  what  it  is,"  said  Olivia,  insuffer- 
ably arch.  "You  want  us  to  send  a  rather 
special  line  in  flowers  to  a  certain  lady  who 
might — I  say  might — have  been  a  teeny, 
weeny  bit  surprised  when  she  saw  the  an- 
nouncement the  other  day ! " 

"No,"  said  Paul.  "  It  wasn't  exactly  about 
flowers.  It  was  about — well,  it  was,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  about  Antonia." 

This  time,  the  blankness  was  on  the  two 
faces  before  him. 

"Antonia?"  repeated  Bertha,  after  a  time. 

"Yes.  She  .  .  .  works  for  you,"  said  Paul. 

"Antonia?"  said  Olivia. 

Bertha  spread  her  hands  wide  as  if  to 
show  their  emptiness.  "Never,"  she  said, 
"have  I  even  heard  of  an  Antonia." 

"Antonia  Wyatt,"  said  Paul,  desperate. 

There  was  a  pause  during  which  Bertha 
and  her  sister  stared  at  him. 

Bertha  spoke,  presently,  on  a  long-drawn- 
out  note  of  surprise.  "Miss  Wyatt?  You — 
you  want  to  see  Miss  Wyatt?" 

"My  dear  Paul" — Olivia's  voice  began  in 
surprise  and  ended  in  outrage — "what  in 


First  Heartache 

Bit  iti'ulah  '■VfMfcrwon  Smith 

It  seems  the  little  boy  next  door 
Just  didn't  speak  to  her  today, 

And,  after  school,  it  seems  that  he 
Went  somewhere  down  the 
street  to  play. 

She  told  me  this,  and  shrugged,  and 
smiled ; 

I  saw  no  signs  of  heartache  there. 
But  after  suppertime  I  heard 
Her  climbing  up  the  attic  stair. 

And,  later  on,  when  I  went  up 
To  dim  the  light,  to  tuck  the  bed. 

There,  on  the  pillow,  close  to  hers — 
The  old,  the  first  doll's  battered 
head. 


the  world  do  you  want  to  see  Miss  Wyatt 
about?" 

"  I  met  her,"  said  Paul.  "  I  understood  she 
worked  for  you,  and  I  thought  I 'd  run  in  and 
see  her.  Do  you  mind?" 

"Mind?  "  It  was  plain  that  Bertha  minded 
a  great  deal.  "We  have  only  one  assistant, 
and  we  have  to  pay  her  a  great  deal.  What 
she  does  with  her  time  outside  office  hours  is 
not,  of  course,  our  concern,  but  we  do  object 
most  strongly  to  people  coming  in  here  keep- 
ing appointments  and  " 

_  "There  was  no  appointment,"  said  Paul, 
"and  I'm  sorry  to  have  asked  you.  I'm 
afraid  I've  wasted  your  time.  May  I  buy 
some  flowers?" 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Bertha  frigidly. 

Paul  chose  an  expensive  bunch  of  flowers, 
took  out  a  card  and  scribbled  in  it  Antonia 's 
name  and  address.  "If  you'll  just  send 

those  "  he  said. 

jOlivia  glanced  at  the  card  and  became  red 
with  anger.  "You  mustn't  think,"  she  said, 
"that  we  shall  feel  justified  in  keeping  this 
matter  to  ourselves.  Your  Uncle  Oswald  is 
in  London  moving  heaven  and  earth  on  your 
behalf,  while  you  " 

"Good-by,"  said  Paul. 

There  was  no  response.  He  found  himself 
on  the  pavement  and,  as  the  mists  of  rage 
and  frustration  cleared  from  his  eyes,  saw 
without  emotion  tliat  the  small  car  was  still 
outside  the  shop;  at  the  wheel,  calm  and  pa- 
tient, sat  the  man  with  the  book.  Paul,  star- 
ing at  him,  found  bitterness  and  envy  welling 
up  within  him.  There  sat  a  happy  man;  a  pa- 
tient, sensible  man  who  had  elected  to  sit  and 


wait  until  Antonia  came  out;  an  intelligem 
man  who  had  nothing  to  reproach  himsel: 
with. 

It  took  a  sharp  walk  to  the  comer  anc 
back  to  bring  Paul  to  a  condition  in  which 
his  mind  could  work  clearly  once  more, 
had  to  see  Antonia  and  f^nd  out  if  th 
harridans  had  been  unkind  to  her,  bu 
her.  It  was  almost  five,  soon  she  would  ( 
out  and  He  must  see  her. 

He  saw  with  surprise  that  the  man 
getting  out  of  the  car.  He  was  going  toward  i 
Flora's;  he  had  gone  in.  Doubtless,  reflected 
Paul  bitterly,  he  was  buying  roses  to  com- 
plete the  picture  of  the  perfect  escort. 

A  vivid  flash  of  inspiration  dispersed 
Paul's  gloom.  Without  an  instant's  hesita- 
tion, he  turned  to  the  stranger's  car,  released  I 
its  brake  and  maneuvered  it  into  the  heav)  I 
traffic  of  Argent  Street.  There  was  a  spaa 
between  two  cars  parked  at  the  side  of  the 
road,  and  into  this  Paul  pushed  his  prize 
leaving  the  rear  protruding  well  into  tht ' 
middle  of  the  street.  Hurrying  back  to  tht 
shop,  he  paused  at  the  comer  for  a  backward 
glance  to  study  his  handiwork:  beautiful; 
couldn't  be  better;  already  cars  were  pilinp 
up  behind  the  bottleneck.  Crossing  the  road 
he  glanced  with  apparent  indifference  at ; 
young  man  who  had  come  out  of  Flora's  and 
was  standing  on  the  pavement  looking 
agitatedly  from  side  to  side;  he  looked  milj" 
interested  as  a  policeman  identified 
owner  of  the  vehicle  causing  a  serious  I 
struction.  He  displayed  mild  concern  at| 
sight  of  the  policeman  taking  out  noteh 
and  pencil  as  he  vanished  with  his  qi: 
round  the  corner,  and  unbent  to  bow  grav 
to  Bertha  and  her  sister  as  they  left  the  shop 
for  the  night.  j 

As  they  went,  he  sped  to  his  car  and  dro»e 
the  few  yards  to  the  entrance  of  Flora's. 
Switching  off  the  engine,  he  had  just  enou 
time  to  open  his  newspaper  and  slouch  back 
in  his  seat  when  Antonia  came  out  of  the 
shop  and  shut  and  securely  locked  the 
door. 

Paul  got  out  and  advanced  to  her  si4,' 
"Hello  there,"  he  said  easily. 

Antonia  smiled  up  at  him.  "Hello."  She 
hesitated.  "I  did  tell  you,  didn't  I,  that! 
was — that  I  couldn't  " 

"You  said  you  had  a  date,"  said  Pall 
"I'm  not  butting  in.  I  only  waited  to 
that  I  made  a  fool  of  myself  and  barged  into 
the  shop  this  afternoon  and  asked  for  you— 
and  got  a  nice  bright  raspberry." 

"You  asked  for  me?" 

"  Yes.  I  only  wanted  to  try  and  fix  a  defi- 
nite date  for  a  show  or  something.  But  the 
two  wildcats  wouldn't  let  me  see  you.  Did 
they  take  it  out  on  you?" 

Antonia  shook  her  head.  "No — they  didn't 
say  anything  about  it." 

"Well,  they  will,"  said  Paul.  "But  if  they 
do  anything  to  annoy  you,  will  you  let  me 
know,  and  I'll  tear  them  both  to  ribbons." 

"Of  course,"  said  Antonia.  She  glanced 
once  again  to  left  and  right. 

"He's  a  bit  late,"  commented  Paul. 
"Come  and  sit  down  for  a  minute  or  two 
until  he  puts  in  an  appearance — he  won't 
mind  that,  surely?" 

Antonia  shook  her  head.  "Thanks— it 
won't  really  be  worth  it,"  she  said. 

"Have  it  your  own  way,"  said  Paul, 
standing  beside  her.  "Will  you  come  and  see 
my  family  one  day?  I  cooked  your  lunch— 
you  come  and  cook  mine.  We'll  give  Petsy  a 
day  off." 

"Petsy?"  Antonia  was  making  an  effort 
to  appear  interested. 

"Petsy's  our  cook  " 

"  What's  the  time?  "  asked  Antonia. 

"Five — nearly  ten  past.  You  mustn't 
blame  the  fellow.  He's  probably  punctured 
his  bike.  Imagine  him  in  the  middle  of  the 
Knightsbridge  trafhc,  pumping  till  his  lungs 
burst.  What  did  you  say  his  name  was?  " 

"  I  didn't,"  said  Antonia.  Her  dark  eyes,  as 
she  glanced  up  at  him,  had  lost  the  look  of 
coolness  with  which  she  had  first  greeted 
him. 

Paul  looked  at  his  wrist  watch.  "Twelve 
minutes  past,"  he  announced.  "How  long 
would  you  like  to  give  him?" 

(Continued  on  Page  141) 


COLA  COMPANY 


"COKE"  IS    A    REGISTERED  TRADE-MARK. 


There's  a  difference, 
you  know, 
when  you 
serve  Coke 

Indeed  there  is ! 

Coke  has  a  flavor  unmatched  in  all  the  world 
...  a  sparkling  and  refreshing  quality 
that  sets  a  mood  for  entertaining. 
But  serving  Coca-Cola  does  more. 
It's  an  assurance  to  your  friends 
that  you  want  them  to  have  the  best. 
Serve  ice  cold. 


85%  of  the  dirt  in  your  home 
is  right  herejuin  your  rugs! 


^^Suction  alone 
cant  get 

rug-dirt  ouli 


It  tak.es  2  other  cleaning  actions  plus  suction 
to  keep  your  rugs  fresh  and  bright  .  .  .free  of 
germs  . .  .free  of  moths . . .  and  to  protect  rug  life. 
You  get  all  three  in  the  Triple- Action  Hoover. 


SEE  THE  HOOVER  DIFFERENCE 


Hoover  Triple-Action 
cleans  the  full  depth  V 
of  the  pile 


IT  BEATS,  AS  IT  SWfEPS,  AS  IT  CLEANS-ON  A  CUSHION  OF  AIR... LIKE  THIS 


Gentle  vibration — on  a  cushion  of  air — shalces  loose  the  deeply  embedded 
dirt  —  brings  it  to  the  surface  where  suction  can  carry  it  away.  In  addi- 
tion, sweeping  gets  stubborn  pet  hairs  and  litter,  grooms  and  erects  the 
nap.  The  Hoover  itself  does  all  the  work— you  simply  guide  it  as  it  glides 
over  the  rug.  You  don't  have  to  push  or  "scrub",  as  with  a  hose-and- 
nozzle  attachment.  Ask  your  Hoover  dealer  to  show  you  what  a  differ- 
ence Triple-Action  cleaning  can  make  on  your  own  rugs. 


Suction  alone  can  get 
only  the  surface  litter 

1 

A  suction  nozzle  does  a  very  good  job  of  cleaning  bare  floors,  lamp 
shades,  draperies  and  furniture.  But  dirt  that's  deeply  embedded  in 
heavy  rug  yarns  defies  evei^  the  most  powerful  suction.  It  is  this  deeply 
embedded  dirt  that  dulls  colors,  harbors  germs  and  moths  and  cuts 
away  at  the  nap  under  the  tread  of  feet  and  moving  of  furniture.  A 
hose-and-nozzle — having  no  dirt-loosening  action  to  aid  suction — is  not 
engineered  to  give  rugs  the  thorough  cleaning  they  need. 


You  can  own  a  Hoover  for  as  little  as 
$62.95 — low  down  payment  and  terms 
as  little  as  20?  a  day.  Ask  your  local 
Hoover  Dealer.  Prices  slightly  higher  in 
Canada.  Prices  subject  to  change  with- 
out notice. 

You  II  he  happier 

with  a  Hoover 

® 

The  Hoover  Company 

North  Canton,  Ohio 
Hamilton,  Ontario,  Canada;  Perivale,  England 


It's  TWO  cleaners  in  one 


Cleaning  tools — seven  of 
them  in  a  handy  carrying 
kit  .  .  . 


plug  into  the  side  of  your 
Hoover  as  easily  as  plug- 
ging in  a  light  cord  .  .  . 


to  convert  it  instantly  for 
bare  floor  and  above- 
floor  cleaning. 


18 


((  iiHliitiitil  fraiH  I'line  l.tS) 

!"welvc   minules,"   said  Antonia 
/  a  lot,  woiildn'l  you  say?" 
Veil "    Paul  spoke  as  one  nivinK  way  to 
lerous  iiiipulsf    "uive  liiin  a  couple  of 
tc's  more,  and  then,  if  he's  fornotteu  I 
1,  if  anytluMK's  I'l'ld  him  up    I  can  drive 
lome    to  my  home,  if  you'll  come." 
~wo  minutes,"  said  Antonia. 
the  end  of  two  minuti's,  I'aul  o|)ened 
oor  of  his  car  and  helixd  her  in  tenderly, 
'ou  mustn't  he  h:ird  on  him."  lie  said. 
isWyatt 
Veil?" 

Vill  you  come  and  mei'l  my  family?  " 

don't  see  why.  After  all.  we  don't 
'  know  each  other  very  wi'll  and  " 
"hat's  the  very  reason,"  said  I'aul,  "that 
ust  ni'l  to  know  each  other  Ix'tter.  First 
,  you'd  better  tell  me  about  your  rela- 
,  and  tiien  I'll  tell  you  aliout  mine, 
k  of  it  four  weeks  and  four  weeks  only 
ich  upon  a  liletime.  ^'ou've  tjot  twenty- 
ears  of  my  past  to  itivestiuate— and 
jot  .  .  .  how  many  years  of  yours?" 
JKhleen." 

ame  like  I'iulippa.  You'll  like  I'hilippa.  ' 
Id  her. 

»  she  pretty?" 

es.  One  of  liiose  honey  blondes,  but 
a  Kood  head." 

i  your  mother  .  .  .  are  you  like  your 
er?" 

eople  say  so.  That's  to  ,say.  we  look 
but  there  are  such  wide  differences  be- 

1  her  side  of  the  family  and  my  father's 

iny  cliaracteristics  we 

it  from  him  are  com- 

y  unlike  her.  You'll 

1  with  her — she  does- 

I  down  very  well  with 

axons,  because  they 

ist  the  purely  orna- 

jl.  They  think  she's 

-and  I  suppose,  by 
standards,  she  is." 

?y  drove  for  a  time 

■nee.  Paul  presently  brouuhl  the  car  to 

)  beft)re  a  lar,t;e  house.  Antonia  glanced 


was  made  welcome  and.  wilh  a  voice  which 
he  ho|)ed  was  casual,  he  address»-d  l-;iaine 

"I  was  woruliTiiiK,"  he  siiid,  "whether 
you'd  care  to  lunch  wilh  me  this  week  and  vfi 
on  to  the  C'adonan  lOxhibilion" 

I'^laine  k)oked  across  at  him  wiili  faint  Im-- 
wilderment. 

"Mother,"  explained  I'aul,  "never  k<xm> 
out.  She  dislikes  cocktail  p.irties  tK'cause 
they're  noisy,  she  won't  |)lay  hiu\v,r  Ix-caiisi- 
it  requires  concentration,  she  avoids  dinner 
parties  because  the  ix^opie  there  <'X|)ect  her 
to  talk  as  well  as  eat.  and  she  won't  d(j  any- 
thing else  because  it's  t(K)  much  trouble. 
Repeat  that  invitation  anain,  loudly  and 
clearly,"  he  urt.;ed  Mr.  Warwick,  "and  then 
listen  to  the  strin^^  of  iiallinn  excuses  that 
come  out." 


iiiLippA,  from  the  window  seat,  put  in  a 


O0OOOOOOOO 

It  If  always  a  poor  way  of 
reading  the  hearti  of  others 
to  try  to  conceal  our  own. 

—ROUSSEAU 

OOO0000OOO 


'here's  this?"  she  asked, 
xteen  Lowndes  Crescent, 
re  home." 


said  Paul. 


the  end  of  the  visit,  he  drove  her  slowly, 
ingly  to  Selcourt  Street  and  then  broke 
?ed  records  back  to  his  home.  There  was 
n  of  his  motlier  or  Philippa  in  the  draw- 
)om;  exploring,  he  found  them  in  Phi- 
s  bedroom, 
'ell?"  he  asked. 

ire  was  no  reply;  Philippa  was  seated  at 

ressing  table  arranging  her  hair.  While 

2  watched  her  critically. 

hat's  it,  I  think."  she  said.  "Paul,  pass 

scissors,  will  you,  please?" 

j1  found  the  scissors  and  handed  them 

i  impatiently. 

ome  on,  say  something,"  he  urged.  "  Do 

—  Hey !  Phil,  what  the  blazes  do  you 
you're  doing?" 

utting  a  fringe,"  said  Philippa. 

:onia  fell  into  the  life  of  the  family  with 
tness  and  an  ease  that  aroused  in  Doug- 
arwick  wistful  envy.  He  knew  nothing 

-  connection  with  Selcourt  Street;  he 
itroduced  to  her  as  a  girl  Paul  had  lately 
ind  he  wished  with  all  his  heart  that  he 
as  swiftly  win  a  place  in  the  afTections 
Saxons. 

GLAS  summoned,  at  last,  sufficient 
ge  to  ask  Elaine  to  lunch  with  him,  and 
walking  two  or  three  times  round  the 
ent  in  order  to  memorize  his  sentence, 
d  firmly  to  No.  16  and  was  admitted  by 
lia. 

ou're  lucky  this  evening."  she  said,  with 
•oad  smile  of  welcome.  "Go  'long  in — 

find  them  all  there." 

felt  himself  disagreeing  strongly  with 
)tion  of  luck,  but  went  into  the  drawing 
and  joined  the  pleasant  family  group. 
I  was  on  the  sofa  handing  screws  to 
:y;  Antonia  sat  beside  Philippa  on  a 
iw  seat,  and  Paul  watched  them  all  with 
inignity  of  a  Victorian  father.  Douglas 


word.  "You  won't  get  mother  out.  Other 
people  have  sat  just  where  you're  sitting  and 
tried  to  move  her    all  to  no  effect." 

"I  wish,"  said  Elaine,  "you  wouldn't  all 
talk  rubbish." 

"  It  isn't  rubbish,  darling,"  said  I'aul.  "It's 
the  solid  truth." 

"You're  all  extremely  silly."  said  Elaine. 
"If  you'd  only  give  me  time.  I  was  going  to 
say  that  I'd  be  very  glad  to  accept  Mr. 
Warwick's  kind  invitation." 

While  her  mother  lunched  with  Douglas 
Warwick.  Philippa  prepared  for  a  luncheon 
engagement  of  her  own.  She  was  almost 
ready  when  Barney  opened  the  door  of  her 
room  and  entered, 

"I  say,  Philippa,"  he 

began,  "could  I  "The 

words  died  on  his  lips; 
mouth  open,  eyes,staring, 
he  regarded  the  unfamiliar 
sight  before  him. 

Piiilippa  was  at  her  mir- 
ror, putting  the  finishing 
touches  to  her  hair.  Iler 
outfit,  usually  ga^  and 
chic,  now  consisted  of  a  plain  gray  coat 
and  skirt  and  a  drab  hat  of  the  pudding- 
basin  variety.  Her  fringe,  which  had  begun 
to  fluff  prettily,  was  greased  and  brushed 
straight  down  on  her  forehead;  the  rest 
of  her  hair  was  screwed  into  a  neat  and 
sensible  bun.  She  turned  upon  Barney 
fiercely.  "Go  away!"  she  said.  "1  wish  to 
heaven  you'd  knock  before  you  come  in." 

"You  — you  look  all  different,"  said 
Barney.  "Why?" 

Without  answering  the  question,  Philippa 
put  one  of  her  own.  "How  do  you  mean  — 
different?" 

"Well  "  Barney  found  it  necessary  to 

make  a  complete  circuit  of  his  subject  before 
he  could  make  his  report.  "You  look  sort  of 
brainy."  he  said  at  last. 

A  beam  of  joy  irradiated  the  countenance 
of  his  sister.  "Oh  — Barney,  do  you  honestly 
think  I  do?" 

"Well,  yes— but  why  do  you  want  to?" 
"Oh,  it  doesn't  matter— it's  just  some- 
thing I'm  trying.  I  want  to  look— well  — 
sort  of  terribly  intelligent.  Will  you  go  and 
fetch  something  for  me?  " 
"Where  from?"  asked  Barney  cautiously. 
"From  Petsy.  Go  down  to  the  kitchen 
and— look,  Barney,  don't  let  her  see  you, 
but  go  to  the  mantelpiece  where  she  keeps 
her  glasses,  and  bring  them  up  to  me." 
"  Petsy 's  glasses?" 

"Yes— go  on.  Hurry,  Barney— and  then 
go  phone  for  a  taxi." 

Barney  went  downstairs  with  more  alac- 
rity than  he  usually  displayed  over  errands. 
He  reappeared  with  the  air  of  a  conspirator, 
and  handed  a  spectacle  case  to  Philippa.  She 
took  out  the  glasses  and  put  them  on  gin- 
gerly, and  Barney's  gasp  of  admiration  told 
her  that  they  gave  a  professional  finish  to 
her  disguise. 

"Now  you  look  mar-velous,"  he  informed 
her.  "Just  like  an  owl.  Go  on— look  in  the 
glass." 

"It's  no  use  looking  in  the  glass,"  said 
Philippa.  "  I  can't  see  a  thing.  But  I  shan't 
be  walking  about:  all  I  want  them  for  is  to— 
well,  to  stand  about  with  them  on.  Now  go 
and  phone  for  a  taxi." 

(Continued  on  Page  143) 


from 

any 

angle 


it's  fine  upholstery 


Masland  Duran  is  always  in 
good  taste.  Comes  in  lovely  colors 
and  patterns  on  all  types  of  furniture. 
Write  for  free  folder  with  sample. 

The  Masland  Duraleather  Company, 
Dept.  L-3,  Philadelphia  34,  Pa. 


ONLY  MASLAND  MAKES  DURAN. 
THIS  TAG  IS  YOUR  PROTECTION. 


All  Masland  products  are  also  available  in  Canada. 


I.   A    n    I    K    S  '       II    O    M    K  JOURNAL 


March 


' "»     I     ••     S  ■        II     (I     \1     h         I     II     I      l(     N     \  I 


I  It 


(Continued  from  I'littf  I  II) 
;y  relumed  in  due  course  and  re- 
that  the  taxi  was  al   the  d(K)r. 
re  you  noinu  to  i)ul  the  jiiasseson?" 
red.  "When  you  net  there?" 
ini«  so.  Tiiere's  no  need  to  put  them 

ish  you  would."  said  Barney  yearn- 
I 'd  lieli)  you  downstairs  and  into  the 
:l  I  could  ask  the  man  to  see  you  \i,o\. 
iniit  the  otiier  end." 
Ilk  you,  hut  I'll  no  as  1  am.  (j(X)d- 
I  thanks." 

lad  not  returned  when  Klaine  not 
the  house  after  leavinn  Douglas  and 
ul  a  brief  account  of  the  exhibition, 
on  her  way  up  to  licr  room  to  channe 
ic  teli'i)lione  rann,  and  she  picked  up 
iver.  I'uttinn  it  down  after  her  con- 
n,  she  looked  at  Paul  m  some  be- 
enl.  "That  was  your  friend  Robert 
h.  He  telephoned  from  Clarid^e's. 
;re  a  lunch  party  there?" 
—what  happened?" 

.l"— Elaine  Icxiked  a  little  puzzled- 
pa  fell  down.  He  didn't  seem  very 
out  it  -he  said  her  face  was  a  little 
icr  glasses." 
ses?" 

I.  that's  what  he  said.  He  sat  next  to 
inch,  and  he  went  with  her  to  see  iier 
axi  and  she  walked  into  somelhinn 
and  cut  herself  on  her  glasses.  You 
liink"  she  hesitated— "you  don't 
he's  not  muddled  and  he's  bringing 
itirely  different  girl?" 
could  do  anything."  said  Paul, 
waited  restlessly.  At  the  sound  of  a 
ping  outside  the  house,  Paul  opened 
I  door  and  followed  his  mother  out. 
had  drawn  up  and  a  young  man 
Philippa  to  alight.  He  looked  at  her 

y- 

ow  do  you  feel  ?  "  he  asked. 

!,  thanks,"  said  Philippa.  "Hello, 

i  was  unable  to  reply  at  once.  She  was 
ig  Philippa's  attire.  A  glance  at  her 
r's  face,  however,  warned  her  to 
)  comment, 
sgo  in,"  said  Paul, 
very  kind  of  you."  said  Robert 
h  earnestly.  "  I  .  .  .  well,  if  you  feel 
1  the— in  the  way,  I  could  go  back  in 

I't  be  silly,"  said  Paul.  "You  can't 
ly  like— I  mean,  you  must  come  in 
re  a  drink  after  rescuing  Philippa 
what  did  you  rescue  her  from?  " 
•ipped,  that's  all,"  said  Philippa. 
on.  Robert." 

e  led  her  daughter  upstairs,  and  Paul 
)bert  into  the  drawing  room.  Fum- 


bling in  his  iXH-ket.  RolKTl  produce<l  a 
spectacle  case  and  lield  it  out. 

"I'm  afraid  they're  broken." 

"Had  luck."  tend  Paul  Hympjithelually. 
"But  you  can  iis»-  ihe  pair  you've  goi  (»n, 
can't  you?" 

"Oh,  but  thuse  aren't  mine."  explained 
RoImtI  anxiously,  "They're  your  Hinler'ti. 
She  had  them  on  when  she  ftll.  that's 
how 

Paul  ixMirtd  out  a  drink  for  Ihe  vittitor  and 
haiidcd  it  to  hmi.  "  1  low  did  she  fall  ? " 

"It  was  my  fault,  in  a  way."  explained 
Robert.  "  1  said  I 'd  see  her  into  a  taxi,  and  an 
wc  came  out  she  scciiu-d  to  to  lose  the  way. 
I  t(K)k  lur  arm  but  she  well,  shf  didn't 
notice  till'  step  and 

"  It  was  just  a  bit  of  bad  luck."  said  Paul, 
who  had  had  lime  to  weigh  up  the  situation. 
"  Hut  tlificdcK'sn't  stTin  much  harm  done. . . . 
How  is  It  this  IS  the  lirst  tiiiH'  you've  man- 
aged to  l(X)k  mi-  up  :ill  these  years?  I'm  olT  to 
Africa  in  a  couple  of  weeks  or  so." 

"Africa?  doinn  out  to  a  job?" 

"Yes.  llow're  things  with  you?" 

"Oh  "  Robert  seemed  to  lender  the 
question.  "I  was  rather  wondering  — " 

"Well?" 

"  Well.  I'm  never  very  g(K)d  at  getting  hold 
of  names."  s;iid  Robert,  '"but  your  sister's 
it  seems  odd.  but  it  wasn't  until  today  that  I 
connected  tiie  name  lliilippa  Saxon  with  the 
Paul  Saxon  I  knew  at  scIkk)!.  We've  neviT 
you  know,  we  only  hapiiened  to  get  talking 
today    because  we  chanced  to  sit  next  to 
to  each  other.  WeVlidn't  really  we  didn't 
know  each  other  formally,  as  it  were." 

"You  didn't?"  said  Paul  jxilitely. 

"No.  Stranne,  isn't  it?  I'd  be  awfully 
grateful  if  we  could  really  meet— if  you'd  in- 
troduce me  to  her." 

Paul's  face  was  expressionless.  "  You  mean 
you'd  like  to  be  introduced  to  Philippa 
formally?" 

"That's  it— yes.  They  say  it  isn't  done  at 
all  nowadays,  and  I  — I  supixjse  it  isn't,  but  I 
want  to  see  a  great  deal  more  of  her— Phi- 
lippa—and  before  coming  out  with  me,  she'd 
probably  like  to  feel  that  she  knew  who  I  was 
and— and  something  about  me.  At  the 
moment,  she  hardly  knows  who  I  am." 

"Then  I'll  tell  her."  promised  Paul,  "the 
moment  she  comes  down." 

Louise  made  her  way  next  door  to  call 
upon  her  nephew  Paul.  She  and  Hugo  had 
for  some  time  waited  for  him  to  come  in 
with  news  of  the  search  for  the  mysterious 
Helga.  The  fact  that  they  had  given  up  help- 
ing in  the  search,  reflected  Louise,  didn't 
mean  that  they  had  given  up  interest  in  it. 

She  found  Paul  alone  and  began  without 
preamble.  "About  this  business  of  yours." 
she  said.  "How's  it  going?" 


'/  don't  care  if  vow  misse€l  the  dance,  I  told  y  ou  distinctly  ^ 
I  would  only  call  you  once  for  breakfast  this  morning. 


"Ah  far  an  I'm  conternwl."  naid  Paul,  "il 
iHn'l  going  al  all  I've  left  ii  all  lo  ihe  |jrt>- 
feHHumaln" 

I^juiHe  looked  at  liim  keenly.  "TI>ar«  rw»t 
true,"  hIh-  u;tid  in  her  abrupt  (aHliion  "  Vour 
Uncle  Hugo  and  I  naw  your  car  ouUide  Ihc 
h<JUHe  III  Si-la*url  Slrcel  iht  ncxi  lime  we 
went  there" 

Paul  (»auH4-d  (or  only  a  tn'imenl.  "Oh,  bul 
I  waHn'l  with  Mine,  de  Brulain.  I  went  txick 
to  Sflcourl  Street  to  we  a  girl" 

"llelga!"  Htiiied  |>ouiHe  pomtively. 

"No,  not  Helga  .lunt    a  girl." 

IvOuiNc  made  an  impatient  wjund.  "Twih! 
Of  courtte,  I  lelga !  I  lave  you  lold  your  Uncle 
OHwald?" 

"No,"  siiul  Paul  gently. 

They  regarrled  each  <nher  in  Hilencc. 

"Well,"  Hiiid  Imwm:  al  laHl.  "Your  alfairH 
are  your  affairs." 

Paul  sighed  "How  can  weamvince  Uncle 
Ossy  of  that  ?  " 

"You  can't,  lie  and  your  Aunt  Julia  al- 
ways liked  managing  other  people's  buHinens. 
Lilely  I've  wished  that  your  Uncle  Hugo  had 
a  1(11  of  that    that  drive." 

"You  mean  you  wanted  him  to  follow  up 
Ihe  lead  Mme.  de  Hrulais  gave  him?" 

"Yes.  I  sup|x»se  you'll  think  I'm  a  silly  old 
woman,  but  I  can't  help  feeling  that  if  sfj 
much  of  what  she  sjiid  was  right 

"  Well,  why  nol  fcjilow  il  up?  What  do  you 
want  to  prove,  exactly?" 

"Oh  .  .  .  nothing  that  I  want  to- to  talk 
about.  All  I  want  y(jur  uncle  to  do  is  to  try 
and  f)Tove  that  any  one  of  the  things  she  said 
was  right.  I've  been  back  to  Mme.  de 
Hrulais  twice  and 

" Drawn  a  blank?" 

"A  complete  blank.  She  said  quite  dis- 
tinctly that  we  must  look  for  a  Burmese 
woman  ck)se  to  us— and  in  the  next  breath 
she  tells  us  to  go  to  Mandalay.  If  this  were 
sensational  fiction,  of  course,  I  should  at 
once  embark  with  your  Uncle  for  Mandalay. 
bul  let  me  reassure  you  that  I  haven't  any 
idea  of  going  so  far.  eilher  in  inquiry  or  in 
fact.  But  that's  all  I  got  out  of  her.  'Manda- 
lay. Mandalay,  go  to  Mandalay.'"  Louise 
broke  off  with  a  gesture  of  exasperation.  "  It 
certainly  sounds  fantastic." 

"  It  doesn't  sound  sensational  to  me."  said 
Paul.  "You  must  remember  that  I  was  with 
you  that  first  time.  What  ivas  it.  Aunt 
Louise."  he  asked  impulsively,  "that  hap- 
pened all  those  years  ago?" 

IjOUISE  stared  unsceingly  out  the  window. 
"Nothing  very  much,"  she  said  quietly. 
"Your  Uncle  Hugo  had  some  important 
papers,  and  they  disappeared.  Before  he 
could  report  their  disappearance,  a  Burmese 
girl  turned  up  and  handed  them  in.  Hugo 
was  sent  for,  and  asked  for  an  explanation — 
and  couldn't  give  one.  From  that  day  to  the 
day  we  sal  in  Mme.  de  Brulais'  room,  neither 
your  uncle  nor  I  had  ihe  remotest  idea  what 
lay  behind  the  dreadful  affair." 

"Then  you  think  that  the  man  Mme.  de 
Brulais  mentioned   " 

"She  said  that  a  man  w-ith  a  wounded 
arm  took  the  papers.  There  was  a  man  there 
that  day— his  horse  had  thrown  him.  and  his 
arm  was  in  a  sling.  He  was  called  Raymond 
Si.  Clair.  Nobody  liked  him,  bul  when  your 
Uncle  Hugo  was  in  trouble.  St.  Clair  was 
constantly  bringing  up  the  case  al  high 
levels  and — as  we  thought  then— trying  to 
clear  him.  But  I  don't  ihink  he  was  trying 
to  do  anything  for  Hugo— he  was  using  the 
afTair  to  win  a  reputation  for  himself.  And 
if  Mme.  de  Brulais  can  be  believed,  it  was 
St.  Clair  who  stole  the  papers  and  gave  them 
to  the  Burmese  girl." 

"Did  you  ever  find  out  who  she  was?" 

"Y'es — and  we  found  oul  where  she  came 
from.  Her  name  was  Min  Wei  and  she  came 
from  a  little  village  called  Palaung,  in  Upper 
Burma.  Il  was  comparatively  easy  to  find 
out  where  she  came  from,  bul  nobody  ever 
found  out  w'here  she  went.  According  to  Mme. 
de  Brulais.  she  went  to  Mandalay  " 

"Wait  a  minute!"  said  Paul  suddenly. 

"Hold  it  for  just  .  .  .  one  "  His  manner 

changed  and  became  eager.  "Look.  Aunt 
Louise,  this  is  an  awfully  long  shot  but  it 
might  have  a  connection." 

"Well,  tell  me."  urged  Louise. 


Ho\\r  to  keep 
pie  crust  edges  from 
getting  too  browR 

-  iinothor  (lie-biikiiiK         ^  _ 
hinl  from  Mnrii*  (jifford,     f    *"  ^% 
Armour'a  fumuun  ^ 
homr  vvonomiHt 


Pio  cruMt  (rd((uH  L-M|M-<;iiilly  '  ;.  !■  ..i  piea 
—  MO  ofU'H  Kct  overly  brown  before  the 
whole  pii;  iM  done.  Hut  they  ne^tdn't.  You 
cun  iivoid  overly  brown  or  burnt  edgeH 
by  Himply  cutting  n  Mtrip  of  nluminum 
foil,  uhout  two  ineheit  wide,  and  NhiipinK 
it  over  Ihe  edReM.  an  nhown  in  the  pic- 
ture below.  Hiike  in  a  42.')  F.  oven.  Remove 
the  Mtrip  of  aluminum  foil  iih  Hoon  aH  you 
take  thf  pie  out  of  the  oven. 


And,  for  pie  crust  that's  always  flaky  and 
flavorful,  be  .sure  you  use  Armour  Star 
Lard.  It's  the  lard  .so  many  State  Fair  pie- 
baking  champions  use.  Only  Armour  Star 
Lard  comes  in  the  handy  self-measuring 
cartons — with  Marie  GifTord's  famous 
5-minute  pie  crust  reiipe  printed  on  them. 
It's  an  easy,  accurate  recijx; — exactly  the 
right  recip>e  for  this  new-type  lard  that 
needs  no  refrigeration. 

Got  a  pie-baking  question?  Just  write 

to  Marie  Giflford,  Dept.  .592,  Box  2053, 
Armour  and  Company,  Chicago  9,  Illinois 
— for  her  Picture  Book  of  Pie-Making 
Hints.  It's  free! 


Now  available  in 
economical  3-lb.  tins  — 
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self-measuring  cartons. 


^nnoiir  Star 
Lard 


I;       A       l>        I         I".        >  II        U  l\ 


IVl  .1      (>     LI      It      1>     /\  Iv 


March, 


To  make  Ham 
more  than  marvelous... 

Glaze  with  l^o  syrup 


QUICK  GLAZE:  About  30  minutes 
before  the  ham  is  ready  to  come  from 
the  oven  pour  Karo®  Syrup  slowly 
over  top.  Have  ham  scored.  Bake  in 
hot  oven  (400°  F.)  about  10  minutes. 
Remove  ham  from  oven  and  pour 
Karo  slowly  once  more  over  entire 
surface.  Bake  until  brown. 


«^nutes°  r'"*"'  """^  in  boiJin 

™t  in  hain  '"°r<=  from  hS"^  15 

»eU  gfa  J'"  potato,  ^".JndtTni 


3  Kinds  of  KARO 


DARK  AND  RICH 
(Blue  Label) 


LIGHT  AND  SWEET 
(Red  Label) 


MAPLE-Y 
(Green  Label) 


"This  business  of  going  to  Mandalay.  I 'm 
talking  about  this  one  here— this  place— oh, 
Aunt  Louise,  you  musl  know  what  I 'm  talk- 
ing about !  You  must  have  seen  it  hundreds 
of  times— Mandalay.  Mandalay!  That 
restaurant  in  Leicester  Square.  It's  got  a  sign 
you  can't  miss— MANDALAY.  You  might 
find  something  there  besides  bad  food,  and  if 
you  don't  where's  the  harm?  I'll  bring  An- 
tonia— it's  time  you  met  her.  Mother  thinks 
she  was  handmade,  just  for  me." 

"I  

"Splendid  But"— Paul's  voice  became 
sober — "if  we  go  there  and  nothing  comes 
of  it,  will  you  be  very  disappointed? " 

"No,  I  won't,  because  I 'm  not  going  with 
any  hope,"  said  Louise  flatly.  "All  the  same, 
I 'm  coming." 

"Good." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Louise  rose  to  her 
feet. 

"One  o'clock,"  said  Paul.  "And  I'll  bring 
Antonia." 

"One  o'clock.  I  won't  mention  this  outing 
to  your  Uncle  Hugo.  If  it  turns  out  to  lead 
nowhere,  as  I 'm  sure  it  will,  then  I  '11  let  the 
whole  thing  go." 

"And  if  it  proves  anything?"  asked  Paul. 

"  In  that  case,"  said  Louise,  "  I  shall  buy  a 
crystal  of  my  own." 

Mandalay  was  small,  crowded  and  almost 
as  hot  as  its  name  implied.  The  food  was 
poor,  the  decorations  crude  and  the  waiters 
but  thinly  disguised  to  represent  Burmese. 
Of  the  real  East  there  was  nothing,  and 
Louise,  after  a  thorough  survey  of  her  sur- 
roundings, gave  up  the  hope  of  finding  a  clue 
to  her  own  problem  and 
concentrated,  instead,  on 
the  unexpectedly  pleasant 
task  of  making  friends  with 
Antonia.  Paul  watched  the 
two,  grateful  to  his  aunt 
for  her  swift  submission 
to  Antonia's  charm,  and 
full  of  admiration  for  her 
gallant  concealment  of  her 
own  disappointment. 

The  bill  was  paid,  and  they  made  a  dififi- 
cult  way  to  the  exit.  At  the  door  they  saw 
the  first  genuinely  Burmese  touch:  a  young 
Burman  smiling  and  bowing  to  the  clients  as 
they  left.  "Good-by;  sir,  madam,  mees — 
good-by.You  will  come  again?" 

They  bowed  politely  in  return.  "Are  you 
the  proprietor  of  this  place?"  asked  Paul. 

"Ah,  no!"  The  young  man  laughed. 
"This  place  belongs  to  my  aunt — she  is  well 
known  here,  and  you  can  often  see  her,  but 
she  returned  to  Burma  the  other  day.  Her 
health  is  not  as  good  as  it  was — she  finds  the 
winters  .  .  .  oh,  so  unpleasant  in  England ! " 

"I  hope  she'll  be  better  soon,"  said  Paul. 
"Has  she  gone  to  Rangoon?" 

"No — she  has  gone  to  her  home  in  Upper 
Burma.  It  is  a  very  small  place." 

"What  is  it  called?"  asked  Louise. 

"It  is  a  place  called  Palaung — have  you 
heard  of  it?" 

"No,  I  haven't,"  said  Paul,  "but  I  may 
have  heard  my  friends  speak  of  seeing  your 
aunt  here.  She's  called  " 

The  young  man  smiled.  "Her  name  is  Min 
Wei." 

Paiil,  pausing  to  assess  the  progress  of  his 
courtship,  told  himself  that  it  was  moving 
more  swiftly  than  he  had  hoped.  Day  by  day, 
he  had  secured  more  of  Antonia's  society;  he 
drove  her  to  and  from  Flora's,  and  he  had 
bribed  Chenka  to  provide  Mme.  de  Brulais' 
lunch,  thus  leaving  Antonia  free  to  lunch 
with  him  daily.  Her  evenings  were  spent  with 
him,  as  often  as  not  in  the  family  circle  at 
Ixjwndes  Crescent. 

Into  these  unclouded  skies,  Lady  Pem- 
bury  was  preparing  to  launch  a  deadly  mis- 
sile. An  inveterate  gossip,  she  had  more  than 
once  sprayed  jets  of  malice  round  her  circle, 
but  never  before  had  she  been  in  so  strong  a 
position  for  making  mischief ;  her  facts  were 
waterproof,  her  motives  could  not  be  ques- 
tioned; Paul  had  threatened  the  core  of  her 
well-being — he  was  philandering  with  her 
assistant.  His  friends  should  know  of  his 
treachery;  above  all,  Ursula  should  know. 


I  always  like  to  hear  a  man 
talk  about  himself  because 
then  I  never  hear  anything 
but  good. 

"  —WILL  ROGERS 


The  revelation  was  made  over  a  frieii 
drink  at  Bertha's  flat.  Handing  Ursula  [ 
second  Martini,  Bertha  brought  the  facts 
baldly,  and  waited  for  Ursula's  reaction 

The  results  were,  after  all,  not  so  rew  . 
ing.  Ursula's  self-command  had  neveJi 
nearly  deserted  her,  but  the  sight  ofijr 
hostess,  confidently  awaiting  some  betr 
of  feeling,  enabled  Ursula  to  face  her  wit) 
any  perceptible  change  of  countenance.! 

"Perhaps,"  said  Bertha,  slightly  dam 
"you  don't  believe  it?" 

Ursula  gave  a  laugh.  "Believe  it!Ofccje 
I  believe  it,  my  dear  Bertha.  I  haven't  kni^ 
Paul  Saxon  for  so  long  without  knoMg 
what  he's  capable  of !  If  it  wasn't  your  an . 
ant,  it  would  be  somebody  else's."  | 

"But  she  comes  from  that  address!" 

"You  mean" — Ursula  put  down  her 
carefully — "you mean  she's  Helga  WhaUr^ 
it-was?" 

"Well,  that  isn't  what  she  calls  he 
but  that's  certainly  where  she  lives." 

"  It  sounds  very  odd,  certainly,"  adm. 
Ursula.  "I'll  mention  it  to  his  uncle- 
seeing  him  tonight." 

Her  recounting  of  the  facts  to 
during  dinner  held  a  good  deal  more  w 
than  she  had  allowed  to  appear  b  je 
Bertha,  and  Oswald's  reception  of  the-Jis 
did  nothing  to  soothe  her  irritation. 

Pure  fabrication,"  he  declared  at  jt 
"  I  don't  want  to  seem  vindictive,  b\itk 
known  Bertha  Pembury  since  she  was  4, 
and  I've  always  been  aware— and  soJb 
sure,  have  you — that  she  can  be  extrd^ 
malicious  when  she  cares  to.  This  story 

"          must  be  te 

true,"  snapped  Uwa, 
abandoning  her  pojof 
affectionate  godchild  he 
was  tired  of  Oswald,  led 
of  curbing  her  naturi  n- 
stincts.  "It's  all  ^'te 
true,"  she  repeated,  It 
was  just  a  clever  wjof 
getting  hold  of  Paul,  i  it's 
all ;  she  calls  herself  Jie- 
thing  else— Wyatt— but  she's  obviousli|he 
Helga  you're  after.  The  only  thing  lef  ib- 
viously,  is  to  tackle  him.  He'll  be  w  ug 
for  you— he  must  know  that  Bertha  d  n't 
make  empty  threats,  and  she  told  hii  die 
was  going  to  speak  to  me." 

Oswald,  without  replying,  signaled^)  a 
waiter,  and  paid  the  bill. 

He  followed  Ursula  out  of  the  rest^iint 
and  was  a  little  taken  aback  to  fin  her 
asking  him — he  would  almost  havf  aid 
ordering  him — to  make  a  report  to  het>  his 
conversation  with  Paul.  Without  givi^hei 
a  direct  answer,  he  took  leave  of  her,  c  da 
taxi  and  directed  the  driver.  When  tl  .aa 
drew  up  before  No.  89.  Oswald's  lipsj;ht- 
ened  to  a  grim  line.  Ordering  the  dri;  to 
wait,  he  walked  firmly  to  the  doc;ind 
pressed  the  bell  nearest  to  the  name  ofime. 
de  Brulais. 

It  became  obvious  that  nobody  in'jded 
to  answer  the  bell,  and  Oswald,  by  nc^ir  a 
state  of  smoldering  rage,  decided  to  'ter. 
Both  the  outer  and  the  inner  doors  (jned 
to  his  touch,  and  he  found  himself  intjhail 
whose  inadequate  light  forced  him  to 'and 
still  until  his  eyes  could  accustom  then,|lves 
to  the  gloom.  A  form  descending  tht^airs 
made  him  move  aside — he  saw  that  it  Is  an 
old  man  carrying  a  heavy  basket. 

"Excuse  me  "  Oswald  began. 

"Excuse  me!"  A  voice  almost  in  ear 
caused  Oswald  to  step  aside  hastily,  .  ^^ 
saw  that  a  stout  woman,  coming  nois  ssl 
downstairs  in  slippers,  had  reached  h'j;if 
She  was  so  laden  that  the  general,  b 
nephew,  found  his  hands  going  ouau'"' 
matically  in  a  gesture  to  relieve  her.M"'^ 
he  could  withdraw  them,  the  womijha*' 
placed  in-  them  a  large  basket  and  a  rui8 
bag  containing  green  vegetables,  "i}^ 
you,  thang  you!"  she  exclaimed  fr"* 
accents.  "You  are  a  new  tenant?"  I  , 
Oswald,  speechless,  glared  at  her;  }■  '^^ 
him  toward  a  door  at  the  end  of  tljto'^ 
speaking  more  slowly.  !  . 

"You  have  no  English,  yes?  But  (at » 
nothing,  here.  Almost  nobody  but  jys"' 
speaks  with  fluency.  You  shall  comf !'  'W 


r  best  kitchen-ware 
)uy  in  years . . . 

mm 

VOGUE 

S-WAY 

ombmaHon 

OOKBR 


E  LOOKf 

cooks 


.19' 


(LIMITED  TIME  ONLY) 


higher  in  the  West  and  South  and  Canodo 


SAUCE 
PAN 


)ING  PAt^ 


AIM  IN  ONEl 

s  a  real  bargain  in  enameled 
The  Federal  all-purpose  Combi- 
1  Cooker  in  this  new  more  con- 
nt  size  is  low,  low-priced! 
attractive.  It's  easy  to  clean!  It's 
ed  in  sparkling  white  porcelain 
el  with  red  trim ...  a  perfect  match 
)ur  kitchen  appliances, 
aacity:  Bottom — 2  quarts.  Top — 
uarts.  Ideal  cooking  size, 
t  your  Federal   5-Way  Cooker 
^  while  they're  specially  priced. 
)ur  favorite  housewares  counter 
limited  time  only. 

AIRACLE-ELE^AENT  TITANIUM 

;s  all  Federal  Vogue  enameled 
whiter  .  .  .  stronger  .  .  .  longer- 
<g.' 


.  ENAMELING  &  STAMPING  CO.,  PIHSBURGH  30,  PA. 
>f  Nu-Brite  Aluminum  Ware  and  Aluminum  Foil 
Cavolier  Stainless  Steel 


ro<jiii  for  krssonH,  as  v.  in.iii>  k' mi'  nun 
done.  I  sliall  li-acli  you." 

(Oswald.  liamtiK  acrotw  her  in  Hlrannlwl 
silence,  oimikcI  the  door  Ix-forc  wliiili  sli«- 
sUxkI  and,  assiiminn  il  lo  Ix'  her  dt-minalion, 
|)itpare(l  lo  liand  back  Ins  burden  lie  hjiw 
bclore  him,  however,  a  sleep  Mu'.lil  ol  Hlairn. 
and  down  Ihese  his  companion  walker!,  leav- 
ing hini  with  no  chim  e  l)ul  lo  lollow  Oswald, 
making  his  way  wilii  dillicullv  down  llie 
narrow  stairway,  lound  liial  she  harl  led  him 
into  a  lai'Ke  kilclien  in  wliicii  he  saw  wilh 
horror  a  medley  ol  seedy-lookiim  ixthoiis  in 
process  of  preparinn  their  meals. 

I'Varinn  to  trust  iiis  voice,  he  laid  his  bur- 
dens uiMJii  the  table  and  stumbled  out  of  the 
kitchen  and  up  the  stairs.  On  arrival  at  the 
liead  of  tlie  stairs,  he  .saw  an  enormous 
woman  cominn  out  of  a  nxim  wilh  double 
doors,  and  rememlKTinK  his  brother's  de- 
scription, reali/ed  that  this  must  Ix-  the 
woman  he  was  seekin^;. 

"Madame    one  moment,  pleas*-." 
MiiU'.  de  Hruiais  threw  a  glance  over  her 
slioukler  and  frowned.  "Who  is  this?" 
"I  must  speak  to  you  immediately." 
"  You  can  see  I  am  not  at  home."  she  said 
abrui^lly,  prepariiiK  to  move  on. 

Oswald,  with  an  anile  movement,  placed 
himself  in  lier  way.  "That  won't  flo,"  he  said 
in  his  most  peremplory  manner.  "1  insist 

upon  " 

A  terrible  sound— a  howl  of  rano-  is-sued 
from  tlie  lips  of  Mme.  dc  Hruiais.  "This  i- 
how  I  will  not  be  pushed  here  and  jiushed 
Ihere,"  she  shouted.  "  I  liave  said  my  days  - 
Ihere  they  arc  outside,  plainly  to  read.  Is  this 
a  Monday  or  a  Wednesday  or  a  Friday? 
Therefore  you  will  not  slop  me  as  I  k<>  <>iil  to 

see  niy  friends.  You  will  " 

"You  will  not  leave  this  house,"  said  Os- 
wald doiJKedly.  "until  — — " 

"Clicnka!"  screamed  Mme.  de  Brulais  al 
the  lop  of  her  voice.  "Chenka!  Come  al 
once!  Chen-KA— come  here!" 

Chenka  came,  and  wilh  him  came  several 
intcresled  spectators.  Oswald  Ihrew^  a  des- 
perate glance  al  his  laxi  waiJing  outside,  and 
as  he  did  so  he  saw  somelhinK  Uial  made  him 
for  a  few  moments  oblivious  of  the  clamor 
around  him. 

i%  cvR— his  nephew's— had  drawn  up  out- 
side the  gate;  Paul  had  got  out  and  was 
assisting  somebody  to  alight.  A  girl  got  out, 
and  came  slowly  up  the  path,  through  the 
doors  and  to  the  scene  of  confusion  in  the 
hall.  Her  eyes  met  Oswald's  and  he  saw  in 
them  a  second's  bewilderment  and  then 
amazed  recognition.  Slie  stopped  and  he 
realized  that  she  was  waiting  for  him.  With 
an  abrupt  movement,  he  cleared  a  way  to 
her  side  and  foUow^ed  her  up  the  stairs.  She 
did  not  speak;  she  led  him  up,  opened  a  door 
and  ushered  him  into  a  room,  shutting  away 
the  noise  and  confusion  and  enclosing  him  in 
blessed  peace.  She  indicated  a  chair,  but 
Oswald  remained  standing  and,  taking  out 
his  handkerchief,  wiped  his  damp  brow. 

"Please  sit  down,"  said  Antonia  quietly. 
She  took  a  chair  and  he  sat  facing  her. 
"Y'ou  haven't  a  drink,  by  any  chance?"  he 

asked.  ,  ,» 

Antonia  shook  her  head.  "No.  Oh— yes! 

she  said  with  sudden  recollection.  "There  is 

sherry— would  that  " 

"It's  better  than  nothing,"  said  the 

general. 

Antonia  rose  and  poured  out  a  glass  ot  the 
sherry  that  Paul  had  brought  on  one  of  his 
visits.  She  took  it  to  him  and  sat  watching 
him  with  a  trace  of  anxiety. 

"Those  people— I'm  afraid  they  upset 
you,"  she  said. 

"Enough  to  upset  anybody,  said  Oswald 
with  a  faint  return  to  his  normal  manner.  "I 

^^rne  to  Look  here,"  he  said,  almost  m 

a  tone  of  appeal.  "I've  got  to  talk  to  you." 

Antonia's  voice  was  gentle.  "I  can  say 
some  of  it  for  you,"  she  said.  "You  thmk 
that  I  am  Helga  de  Brulais,  and  that  I  know 
something  about  the  announcement  in  the 
paper.  I  can  only  tell  you  that  I  am  nothing 
lo  do  with  Mme.  de  Brulais.  and  that  I  knew 
nothing  of  what  was  in  the  paper  until- 
until  your  nephew  came  and  asked  me  about 
it  "  She  hesitated.  "If  I  could  help  you,  I 


e  peaclies 
voii(J  pick  youiself 


Pick  LIBBY'S  off  your 
grocer's  shelf  and  you're 

picking  the  peaches 
you'd  pick  from  the  trees 

LlUUY  S  arc  Ui<  ji'-.j^  lirs  you'd 
reach  for  in  the  orchard — beau- 
tiful toscc,  "riKht"  to  the  touch,  their 
warm  crimson  "blush"  announcing 
their  very  hour  of  readiness. 

Open  a  can  of  Libby's  peaches. 
Note  their  texture,  neither  too  firm 
nor  too  soft,  their  gorgeous  golden 
color.  Mark  their  full  delicious 
flavor— the  goodness  that  Nature 
put  in  and  Libby  retained.  Treat 
your  family  to  Libby's— often! 
I.ihhy.  McNeill  &.  Lihhy.  Chicago  9.  III. 


V 


Dreaming  of  new  places? 


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would.  I  know  Mme.  de  Brulais  well.  She 
is  not  clean  or  tidy,  but  there  is  no  .  .  . 
concealment.  I  am  quite  certain  that  nobody 
could  use  her  as  a — as  an  accomplice." 

"  I  don't  doubt  you're  right,"  said  Oswald. 
"At  all  events,  I'm  not  going  to  tackle  her 
again.  I  " 

"In  my  own  case,"  said  Ajitonia,  "I  can 
only  tell  you  what  I  told  your  nephew.  I  know 
nothing — nothing— about  this  matter.  But 
I  see  very  clearly  that  if  I  had  wanted  to — 
to  make  up  a  plan,  a  scheme  for  meeting 
Paul,  this  would  have  been  a  way  to  do  it. 
But — I  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  it.  ' 

"I  know  you  didn't."  said  Oswald,  in  a 
tone  of  deep  regret.  "  I  know  you  didn't." 

It  was  no  good,  he  told  himself  gloomily. 
It  was  not  a  bit  of  good  sitting  here  and  look- 
ing at  her  and  trying  to  connect  her  with 
plots  and  schemes,  or  even  with  that  virago 
of  a  De  Brulais.  She  was  a  child — not  in 
years,  perhaps,  but  she  had  the  clear,  candid 
gaze  of  a  child.  He  would  stake  his  reputa- 
tion as  a  sound  judge  that  she  was  clear  of  all 
this  business. 

At  this  thought.  Oswald's  spirits  reached 
a  further  pitch  of  gloom.  Paul  had  seen  her 
and  had  obviously  come  to  the  same  conclu- 
sion about  her.  She  had  not  schemed  to  get 
Paul  .  .  .  but,  by  Jove,  it  looked  as  though 
she'd  got  him  all  the  same.  How  was  a  young 
man  to  be  talked  out  of  an  infatuation  for 
those  large  brown  eyes  and  that  flawless 
skin?  What  young  fellow  could  resist  that  air 
she  had  of — of  remoteness,  elusiveness? 

Oswald  pulled  himself  out  of  a  deep  reverie 
and  refused  a  second  glass  of  sherry.  He  rose 
to  his  feet.  "I'm  glad  to  have  met  you,"  he 
said.  "It's  cleared  my  mind  on  at  least  one 
point." 

She  gave  him  a  little  smile  and  led  him  in 
silence  to  the  door. 

The  general  intended,  on  leaving  Selcouri 
Street,  to  call  on  his  brother  and  announce  to 
him  his  intention  of  giving  up  all  active 
participation  in  the  search  for  Mile,  de 
Brulais.  He  ordered  the  driver  to  go  to 
Lowndes  Crescent  but,  halfway  there,  was 
overtaken  by  a  strong  desire  to  seek  the 
sanctuary  of  his  club  room,  order  himself  a 
drink  and  a  good  dinner,  and  go  to  bed.  Rap- 
ping on  the  window,  he  spoke  to  the  driver 
and  sank  back  on  his  seat  with  a  grunt  of 
relief. 

It  was  thus  that  the  news  of  his  visit 
reached  Lowndes  Crescent  by  indirect  means; 
Paul  heard  it  from  Antonia  when  he  called  to 
drive  her  to  Flora's. 

"You  mean,"  he  asked  in  astonishment, 
"you  mean  he  actually  went  to  see  you?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  think  perhaps  it  was 
Mme.  de  Brulais  he  came  to  see,  but  I  found 
him  in  the  hall,  hemmed  in  by  them  all.  He 
was  .  .  .  rather  shaken." 

"So  was  I,  the  first  time  I  went  there," 
Paul  reminded  her.  "  It  isn't  the  house,  you 
know — it's  the  succession  of  foreign  tongues. 
You  get  a  feeling  as  though  you'd  crossed  the 
Channel  without  knowing  it  and  lost  your- 
self in  a  Continental  zoo." 

"You  are  referring,"  said  Antonia,  "to 
the  home  I  love."  They  laughed,  and  she 
went  on  more  soberly.  "I  prefer  the  foreign- 
ers, in  a  way.  I  don't  get  the  same  feeling 
of  hopelessness  about  them  when  they're 
down  and  out.  Sometimes  Englishmen  .  .  . 
there  was  one  who  came  last  year — poor 
and  shabby.  He  got  ill  during  the  winter,  and 
I  was  glad,  because  it  gave  me  an  excuse  for 
taking  him  in  something  to  eat. . . .  And  then 
there  was  one  who  reminded  me  of  my  father, 
a  little  ...  he  fainted  on  the  stairs  and  ended 
up  just  outside  my  door.  We  found  that  he'd 
broken  an  arm— I  was  a  little  glad  of  that, 
too,  because  I  nursed  him  and  he  turned  out 
to  be  even  more  like  my  father  than  I'd 
thought.  But  he  didn't  have  the  same  ...  I 
think  the  word  is  acceptance  of  poverty  as  all 
those  others.  The  foreigners— at  Selcourt 
Street— seem  to  take  poverty  as  a  matter  of 
course,  but  the  Englishmen  struggle  and 
struggle  against  it,  and  it— it  wears  them 
out."  She  sighed.  "A  Continental  zoo  .  .  . 
your  Uncle  Oswald  looked  as  though 
they'd  put  him  in  a  cage  but  when  he  got  up- 
stairs, he  was— I  think  he  was  even  a  little 
kind." 


Paul  said  nothing;  he  could  see  that  the 
general,  looking  into  the  clear  brown  eyes, 
had  found  his  theories  sadly  out  of  joint. 

Hugo,  notified  by  his  brother  that  he  was 
looking  in  to  see  him,  showed  no  marked 
pleasure  in  the  forthcoming  visit.  "It  won't 
be  pleasant,"  he  told  Louise.  "He's  been  to 
Selcourt  Street  and  he'll  be  full  of  spleen 
and  " 

"  If  he  says  anything  about  Antonia— any- 
thing uncomplimentary,"  said  Louise,  "I 
hope  you'll  put  a  stop  to  it.  You'll  have  to 
see  him  yourself,  Hugo;  I  don't  feel  I  can 
listen  to  him  calling  her  names." 

"Do  you  like  her  as  much  as  that?"  he 
asked.  "I  don't  see  how  anybody  could  do 
anything  else.  The  girl's  good-looking,  quiet, 
good-tempered  and  well  behaved.  I  don't 
know  what  Paul's  intentions  are— though 
they  look  serious  enough— but  I  think  he's 
lucky  to  have  come  out  of  it  so  well.  And 
about  that  other  thing,  Lou  " 

"We  won't  discuss  that  either,"  said 
Louise  crisply.  "  I  know— and  I'm  absolutely 
certain  that  you  know  now,  though  you 
won't  commit  yourself— all  the  true  facts." 

"But  you  can't  do  anything." 

"No,"  admitted  Louise  reluctantly,  "I 
can't.  Look  here,  Oswald  will  be  here  in  a 
few  minutes — take  him  up  to  the  library,  will 
you?  I'll  stay  down  here.  In  fact,  I  shall  run 
in  and  see  Elaine." 

"Very  well,"  said  Hugo.  "I  must  say  I'm 
not  looking  forward  to  his  visit." 

Oswald  was  not  lookmg  forward  to  it  him- 
self. He  followed  Hugo  up  to  the  library  and 
gave  him  an  account  of  his  visit  to  Selcourt 

The  highest  that  we  can  attain  to  is 
not  Icnowledge,  but  sympathy  with 
intelligence.  — thoreau 

Street — an  account  which  omitted  almost  as 
much  as  Hugo's  description  of  his  own  visit 
had  done. 

"  Not  going  to  do  any  more,"  he  mumbled 
at  last.  "Paul's  been  determined  to  go  his 
own  way  ever  since  he  got  into  long  trousers. 
Well,  he  can  go  his  own  way  now,  and  God 
knows  where  it'll  lead  him." 

"That  girl— Antonia,"  said  Hugo.  "She's 
a  nice  girl,  as  far  as  one  can  see." 

"And  one  can  see  a  long  way,"  said  Oswald 
bitterly,  "without  knowing  the  smallest 
thing  about  who  she  is,  where  she  comes 
from,  who  her  parents  were."  He  rose  to  his 
feet  abruptly.  "  Well,  that's  all  I  came  to  say. 
I'll  be  off  in  a  day  or  two." 

"Are  you  going  next  door  to  say  good-by 
to  Paul?" 

"No.  I'll  look  in  and  do  it  tomorrow— I 
haven't  time  just  now.  I  met  St.  Clair  as  I 
was  coming  here  and  I've  promised  to  lunch 
with  him.  He's  calling  here  for  me." 

Hugo  stared  at  him,  the  color  draining 
slowly  from  his  face.  "What  did  you  say?" 

"St.  Clair.  What  are  you  looking  like  that 
for?"  inquired  Oswald  irritably.  "You  don't 
mean  to  say  that  after  all  these  years  you 
can't  hear  the  man's  name  without  connect- 
ing him  with  that  unfortunate  business?  It 
was  nothing  to  do  with  him,  after  all." 

"No,"  said  Hugo.  "No.  I  .  .  .  well,  I  was 
surprised,  that's  all." 

"I'd  better  be  off,"  said  Oswald,  glancing 
at  his  watch. 

Hugo  opened  the  door  and  the  two  men 
walked  on  to  the  landing.  As  they  went 
toward  the  stairs,  Hugo  heard  the  sound  of 
the  front  door  closing.  It  might  have  been 
Louise  going  out .  .  .  but  it  was  not.  She  had 
not  gone  out;  St.  Clair  had  come  in — they 
had  gone  into  the  drawing  room. 

Turning,  white-faced,  Hugo  addressed  his 

brother.  "There's  something  "  With  an 

effort,  he  got  his  voice  under  control.  "I've 
got  to  tell  you  something,"  he  said.  "I 
wouldn't  have  told  you  if  St.  Clair  hadn't 
zome  here  today,  but  .  .  .  well,  here  it  is. 
Louise  got  on  the  track,  lately,  of  some  evi- 
dence that  St.  Clair  wasn't  entirely  blame- 


less in  that  old  affair  of  mine  in  Burma.  She's  '> 
convinced  herself— and  to  tell  you  the  truth, ' 
she's  half  convinced  me— that  St.  Clair  had  | 
something  to  do  with  removing  those  1 
papers." 

It  was  some  time  before  Oswald  could 
speak.  "You're  raving,"  he  said. 

"Yes,  all  right,"  said  Hugo.  "We'll  leave 
all  that.  What  I'm  trying  to  do— I  beg  you, 
get  St.  Clair  out  and  get  him  out  quickly.'' 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  she— that  you've 
both  got  some  fantastic  idea  that  "  , 

"Yes,  quite  fantastic,"  said  Hugo.  "You've  1 
used  the  right  word."  , 

"You  don't  t-trust  "  Words  failed! 

Oswald,  but  Hugo  did  not  wait  for  him  to 
recover.  He  was  going  down  the  stairs,  and 
Oswald  followed  him. 

They  reached  the  hall,  and  Oswald  had  | 
'taken  two  steps  across  it  when  he  was  < 
brought  to  a  standstill  by  Hugo's  grip  on  his 
arm.  . 

"Quiet ! "  said  Hugo,  in  a  tone  Oswald  ham 
not  heard  him  use  for  half  a  lifetime.  | 

They  stood  still,  and  through  the  half-open 
door  of  the  drawing  room  they  saw  St.  Clair, 
his  face  chalk-white,  standing  on  the  hearth- 
rug staring  down  at  Louise,  who  sat  upon  the 
sofa,  speaking  in  a  quiet  voice. 

"         and  you  needn't  waste  time  in: 

denials,"  she  said,  "because  you  see,  wei 
know— step  by  step— what  happened  that' 
day.  You  brought  the  gray  over  for  Hugoj 
to  try,  and  you  and  I  stood  watching  him— j 
and  you  held  his  coat.  A  little  later,  youj 
took  it  into  the  house ;  you  took  the  key  on 
his  dispatch  case  out  of  the  pocket,  and  youl 
removed  the  papers.  You  took  them  to  the 
Burmese  girl  at  Palaung  and  told  her  what 
to  do  with  them.  She  took  them  and  then  shei 
disappeared —for  thirty  years." 

St.  Clair  made  a  visible  effort  to  pull  him- 
self together.  "I'd  like  to  see  you  try  and 
prove  all  this  balderdash,"  he  said  gratingly. 

"We  have  proved  it,"  said  Louise  with) 
deadly  calm  and  assurance.  "We  knew  the' 
woman's  name— Min  Wei— and  where  she 
came  from.  We  found  that  she  had  opened  a 
business  in  London,  with  her  nephew.  I've 
no  doubt  that — even  after  all  these  years- 
she  can  identify  you." 

"It's  a  pity  you  weren't  as  clever  as  this 
thirty  years  ago,"  said  St.  Clair  insolently. 

"A  great  pity,"  agreed  Louise.  "You 
wouldn't  have  found  it  so  easy.  You  did  find 
it  easy." 

"Easier  than  you'll  find  it  when  you  try 
to  put  things  back  as  they  were,"  he  said 
cruelly. 

There  was  a  sound  at  the  door,  and  he 
swung  round  to  face  Oswald  and  Hugo. 
Oswald's  face  was  gray.  St.  Clair,  after  a 
glance  at  him,  turned  to  Hugo. 

^Vhat  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked. 

"Nothing,"  said  Hugo.  "Let  the  mud  lie. 
All  these  years  I've  wanted  to  convince  only 
one  person  that  I  had  a  clean  slate,  and 
now" — he  turned  to  Oswald  with  a  twisted 
smile — "now  you're  convinced." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  St.  Clair  looked 
from  one  to  another  of  the  three  faces  before 
him,  and  saw  that  his  presence  was  all  but 
forgotten.  He  walked  to  the  door  and  went 
out.  A  moment  later  the  front  door  banged, 
and  Louise  gave  a  deep  sigh,  like  one  laying 
down  a  burden  after  a  long,  long  journey. 

Oswald  spoke  on  a  long,  wondering  note. 
"Raymond  St.  Clair,"  he  said.  "How  did 
you  find  out  all  this?" 

"It's  too  long  a  story,  and  it's  finished," 
said  Louise.  "Let  it  be.  I'll  go  and  make 
some  coffee,"  she  said,  rising  with  a  return 
to  her  normal  brisk  manner.  "  We  all  need  it." 

Paul  stood  beside  Antonia,  who  was  wash- 
ing the  glasses  in  which,  an  hour  ago,  they 
had  drunk  to  the  progress  of  the  romance 
between  Philippa  and  Robert  Meredith.  It 
would  take  Robert,  Paul  calculated,  some 
years  to  identify  the  emotion  which  others 
could  read  plainly  in  his  eyes  whenever  he 
looked  at  Philippa.  Robert,  of  course,  had 
unlimited  time  for  his  wooing,  but  in  his  own 
case  

Antonia  handed  him  a  glass  and  he  began 
to  dry  and  polish  it. 

(Conlinued  on  Page  148) 


icu,  iiiiiic  aiiu  luu: 


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illsbury  Cake  Mixes 

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Mi' 


I  Cake^MIX    j  C^eJMIX     Cake  JIIX 
Milk  is  all  you  add 

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/ 


PARIS  •  LONDON  •  NEW  YORK 


(Coiiliiincd  from  I'oitv  I4(>l 

"Do  you  realize,"  he  asked,  "that  in  ex- 
actly two  weeks  from  now  I  shall  be  on  my 
way  to  Africa?" 

' '  Yes, ' '  said  Antonia .  "  What  was  the  name 
of  the  place?" 

"The  name  doesn't  matter,"  said  Paul. 
"What  I  wanted  you  to  know  was  that  it 
isn't  quite  darkest  Africa.  It's  in  the  hills, 
with  good  water  and  quite  a  lot  of  twentieth- 
century  improvements.  My  house  has  got 
three  bathrooms,  though  none  of  them  has 
what  for  delicacy's  sake  we  shall  call  plumb- 
ing. There's  a  garden  too.  Do  you  like 
gardens?" 

"Some  gardens,"  said  Antonia  cautiously. 

"I  shall  have  four  servants,"  said  Paul. 
"All  quite,  quite  black  to  match  the  ebony 
elephants  on  the  mantelpiece—if  there  is  a 
mantelpiece.  What  I  wanted  to  ask  you  was: 
would  you  marry  me  and  four  servants  and 
three  bathrooms?" 

He  waited,  but  there  was  no  reply.  Antonia 
lifted  out  the  last  glass  and  placed  it  beside 
him  and,  picking  up  a  small  towel,  dried  her 
hands  carefully  upon  it. 

"  I  tried  to  get  round  to  asking  you  several 
times  in  the  last  week  or  so,"  went  on  Paul. 
"All  I  managed  to  indicate  to  you — I  hope — 
was  that  I  love  you  very  much.  Did  you 
understand  that?" 

"Yes.  I— I  did,"  said  Antonia. 

She  had  walked  to  the  window  and  was 
standing  with  her  back  to  him,  staring  out. 
Paul  lined  up  the  glasses,  opened  the  door 
of  the  cupboard  and  began  to  put  them  away. 
His  task  finished,  he  walked  over  and  stood 
behind  her. 

"Say  something,  Antonia,"  he  begged. 

Her  words,  when  they  came,  were  slow 
and  calm,  and  addressed  to  Selcourt  Street. 

"My  grandfather,"  she  said,  "was  Italian, 
and  his  name  was  Antonio." 

"I  know;  you  told  me." 

"  He  was  Antonio,  and  there  was  .  .  .  there 
really  was  a — an  ice-cream  cart."  Her  voice 
quavered  and  then  steadied.  "He  used  to 
push  it,  and  he  used  to  shout  as  he  pushed  it. 
He  had  a  stand  in  the  best  place  in  Venice. 
And  my  aunt — my  mother's  sister  " 

"Yes?"  said  Paul. 

"She  was  called  Maria,  and  she  sold  fruit 
in  the  market.  My  father  used  to  take  me  to 
see  her.  She  was  old — much  older  than  my 
mother,  and  she  looked  like  a  peasant  be- 
cause, you  see,  she  was  a  peasant.  In  Eng- 
land you  don't  see  peasants,  but  in  Italy  you 
see  them  working  in  the  fields,  like  my 
mother's  people." 

She  stopped,  and  they  faced  each  other. 
Two  tears  fell  slowly  down  her  cheeks,  but 
neither  she  nor  Paul  took  any  notice  of  them. 
After  a  few  moments  he  took  a  step  forward, 
picked  her  up  gently  and  made  his  way  un- 
hesitatingly to  the  only  chair  in  the  room 
that  would  hold  them  both.  Cradling  her  in 
his  arms,  he  held  her  against  him. 

"Why  are  you  crying?"  he  asked.  "Just 
because  you  can't  get  free  ices  any  more  ? " 

"No,"  said  Antonia. 

Because  I'm  not  in  the  ice-cream  or  fruit 
business?  .  .  .  Shall  we  give  up  this  idea  of 
Africa  and  go  to  Italy  and  revive  the  family 
fruit  and  ice-cream  businesses?  Buy  grand- 
father a  great,  big  " 

'He  died." 

"Oh.  Well,  I  don't  know  how  you're  going 
to  look  our  children  in  the  face  and  tell  them 
that  you  let  the  ice-cream  interest  go  out  of 
the  family.  And  children  living  in  Africa 
too !  Hot  and  panting,  and  no  ice  cream.  .  .  . 
Have  you  finished  crying  now,  Antonia?" 

"Yes." 

"Good.  And  have  you  any  more  speeches 
to  make  before  we  get  married?" 
"Yes." 

"Well,  go  ahead,"  invited  Paul.  "What 
do  you  want  to  get  off  your  chest  now?  " 

"I  love  you,"  said  Antonia.  "I  love  you 
with  all  my  heart." 

It  was  not  so  difficult,  after  all,  to  say 
good-by  to  his  Uncle  Oswald. 

"You're  determined,  I  suppose,  to  marry 
her?"  said  Oswald. 

"Quite,"  said  Paul  quietly.  "If  there  was 
ever  anything  in  your  mind  about  Antonia 


having  had  any  connection  with  that  an- 
nouncement, I'd— well,  I'd  be  very  glad  if 
you'd  rule  it  right  out." 

"Things,"  said  Oswald,  with  his  mind  on 
Hugo  and  Louise,  "are  not  always  what  they 
seem.  I'm  inclined,  myself,  when  suspicion 
points  toward  decent  people,  to  use  my  own 
judgment."  The  general  paused  and  sighed. 
"There's  just  one  more  thing.  It's  about 
Ursula.  I  don't  want  to  hark  back  to  old 
matters,  but  your  mother  said  plainly  that 
you  had  dropped  her." 

Paul  frowned  in  embarrassment.  "That's 
putting  it  strongly,  perhaps,  sir.  I  know  what 
you  hoped,  but  it  wouldn't  have  come  off, 
whether  I 'd  met  Antonia  or  not.  Ursula  and 
I  never  hit  it  off." 

"And  you  dropped  her?" 

"  I  .  .  .  if  >ou  want  it  that  way,  all  right.  I 
dropped  her." 

Oswald  came  a  step  nearer  and  put  an 
appealing  hand  on  his  nephew's  arm.  "Paul, 
my  dear  fellow,  would  you  tell  me  how  the 
devil  you  managed  it?" 


Stranger 

llli  Hlvannr  liraham  Vant'v 

I  love  a  stranger — stranger  every 
day 

Because  his  heart  is  deeper  than  I 
knew, 

And  sometimes  in  its  depths  I  lose 
the  way 

Where  once  I  thought  my  compass 

was  as  true 
As  any  sailor's.  Yet  I  must  confess 
That  love  grows  more  delicious 

when  I  find 
That  I  must  chart  new  courses  by 

a  guess, 

And  make  mistakes,  and  often  go 
it  blind. 

My  stranger  meets  my  blunders 

with  a  smile, 
For  I  am  strange  myself,  once  in  a 

while. 


The  news  of  Paul 's  engagement  caused  no 
surprise  anywhere;  his  mother  and  Philippa 
were  delighted ;  Hugo  and  Louise  were  warm 
in  their  congratulations. 

The  question  of  the  bride's  trousseau 
caused  some  heartburning.  Elaine,  with  all 
the  tact  and  delicacy  of  which  she  was 
capable,  urged  Antonia  to  allow  her  to  help 
and  Antonia,  with  her  gentle  smile,  shook 
her  head.  Louise,  without  any  tact,  indi- 
cated, in  a  forthright  manner,  that  no  girl 
could  be  expected  to  endure  the  humiliation 
of  accepting  a  trousseau  from  her  fiance  or 
her  fiance's  family;  that  an  aunt  was  not  to 
be  classed  as  family ;  that  no  aunt  was  going 
to  sit  by  and  see  a  Saxon  bride  going  out 
among  those  Africans  with  anything  short 
of  the  fullest  equipment  and  no  aunt  was 
going  to  sit  and  listen  to  any  rubbish  and 
nonsense  about  refusing.  That  was  all. 
Good-by.  It  would  be  amusing  to  go  shop- 
ping. Good-by  again. 

The  bridegroom-elect  found  himself  a  little 
in  the  way  during  the  last  days  before  the 
wedding.  In  the  course  of  clearing  out  his 
papers,  he  came  across  a  card  and  studied 
it  with  a  reminiscent  smile:  Beardsley;  dear 
old  Professor  Beardsley.  It  was  how  long — 
four  weeks,  four  years — since  he  had  driven 
away  from  the  college  without  any  premoni- 
tion of  what  was  to  come?  With  a  sudden 
grin,  he  decided  that  he  would  drive  out  to 
say  good-by — and  he  would  take  Antonia 
with  him. 

They  drove  to  the  college  two  days  before 
their  wedding;  Antonia,  hatless,  her  fringe 
lifting  softly  in  the  breeze,  leaned  back  in  the 


deep  hot  seat,  smiling  at  Paul  now  and  then 
as  he  reached  out  and  touched  her  hand. 

They  left  London  behind  them ;  soon  the 
village  of  Benham  was  in  sight.  Paul  drove 
to  the  college,  stopping  the  car  at  the  foot  of 
the  wide  stone  steps. 

"Shall  I  get  out?"  asked  Antonia. 

"Yes.  Come  on— this  is  going  to  be  a  sur- 
prise for  old  Beardy." 

He  took  her  into  the  echoing,  deserted  hall, 
and  up  the  wide  flight  of  stairs. 

He  knocked  on  the  door  and,  hearing  the 
invitation  to  enter,  ushered  Antonia  in— and 
saw  at  once  that  there  was  no  need  to  tell 
Professor  Beardsley  who  she  was.  The  old 
man  was  advancing  across  the  room  with  his 
hands  outstretched  and  his  eyes  gleaming 
with  welcome. 

"Antonia !  My  dear,  dear  Antonia ! " 

"Professor  Beardsley!"  Antonia  had 
grasped  his  hands  and  was  looking  at  the  old  j 
man  with  pleasure  and  affection.  "Why— I 
Paul,  you  didn't  tell  me!" 

"You  *noi<;  him?"  asked  Paul. 

"Of  course!  I  told  you— I  nursed  him  for 
two  months.  Didn't  I?"  she  asked  the  old 
man. 

"You  did.  And  now  what  is  all  this?"  de- 1 
manded  the  professor.  "You  must  tell  me."  j 

They  told  him,  but  most  of  the  telling  was 
done  by  Antonia.  A  mist  was  closing  round } 
Paul,  and  through  it  he  strove  to  see  things  I 
clearly  and  piece  them  together. 

Their  visit  did  not  last  long.  They  ex- 
changed good  wishes;  the  professor  wished 
them  luck.  They  left  him  standing  at  the  top 
of  the  stairs  and  walked  down  hand  in  hand. 

M*AUL  put  Antonia  into  the  car  and  she 

smiled  happily.  "It  was  nice,"  she  said.  "It 
was  lovely  to  find  that  there  was  a— a  sort  of 
link  between  us.  If  you'd  only  mentioned  his 
name — just  once !  It  would  have  been  nice  to 
think  that  the  professor  had  been  with  you 
all  those  months,  seeing  you,  teaching  you—  I 
linking  you,  in  a  way,  with  me!  He  " 

"  Wait !"  said  Paul  abruptly.  He  bent  and  : 
kissed  her.  "Don't  move — I'll  be  back." 

He  was  racing  through  the  hall  and  up  the 
stairs,  down  the  corridor  toward  the  pro- 
fessor's room.  He  had  opened  the  door  with- 
out knocking  and  was  staring  at  the  pro- 
fessor across  the  room. 

"  It  was  you ! "  he  said. 

"Yes,"  said  Professor  Beardsley. 

"But — why,  why?" 

"I  loved  her  as  I  would  have  loved  my 
own  daughter,  if  I  had  had  one.  If  I  could 
have  done  anything  for  her,  I  would  have 
done  it.  But  she  had  nothing,  and  I  could 
give  her  nothing,  for  I  had  nothing  to  give." 

"But  " 

"Let  me  go  on,  please.  You  came  to  my 
classes,  and  I  got  to  know  you.  You  liked  me, 
and  I  liked  you — very  much.  I  knew  that  you 
were  young,  rich  and  free.  Day  after  day  I 
looked  at  you  and  longed  for  the  chance  of 
bringing  you  and  Antonia  together." 

"But — but  you  could  have  done  it  at  any 
time,  at  any  moment ! " 

"Have  you  ever,"  asked  the  professor, 
"observed  the  results  of  bringing  together 
two  young  people  with  a  view  to  making 
them  like  each  other?  They  may — and  again, 
they  may  not.  I  thought  of  a  hundred  ways 
of  doing  it — and  rejected  them  all.  And  then 
I  thought  I  saw  the  way.  I  put  the  announce- 
ment in  the  paper.  It  was  all  chance,  you  see. 
//  you  went ;  if  you  saw  her  .  .  .  but  of  one 
thing  I  could  be  almost  certain;  if  you  saw 
her,  you  would  love  her.  ...  I  know  that 
what  I  have  told  you  will  rest,  forever,  be- 
tween you  and  me.  .  .  .  No,  no,  no,  no,  no — 
you  must  not  say  a  word.  A  thousand-to-one 
chance  came  home.  I  am  the  happiest  man 
in  the  world— and  so  are  you.  You  shall  call 
one  of  your  children  after  me,  and  I  shall  be 
a  godfather.  God  bless  you  both.  Good-by 
and  be  good  to  her." 

"What  did  you  go  back  for?"  asked  An- 
tonia. It  was  growing  dusk,  and  Paul  was 
driving  slowly,  her  head  against  his  shoulder. 

"We'd  forgotten  to  ask  him  to  the  wed- 
ding," he  said.  "If  I  pull  up  just  beyond 
those  lights,  Antonia  Saxon-to-be,  will  you 
kiss  me?" 

"Yes,"  said  Antonia.  the  end 


Wash-Wear  tests  proved  Supercale* 
Stronger,  Longer-Lasting, 
Costs  less  to  launder! 

Heaven  .  .  .  when  you  stretch  out  on  this 
silky,  caressable  softness.  You  feel 
pampered  in  luxury  all  over!  No  wonder 
the  legend  of  Supercale's  loveliness 
grows  year  after  year.  And  now — wash- 
wear  tests  add  a  new  economy  story! 
Tests  proved  them  stronger  than  all  other 
Types  tested,  including  coarse-woven 
muslins.  More  good  ncu  s — results  showed 
that  Supercale's  longer  service  and 
lower  laundering  costs  more  than  pay 
you  back,  over  years  of  extra  wear,  the 
little  bit  more  you  spend  to  buy  them. 
i\eier  has  luxury  been  so  thriflyl 


cSupcnalc 


For  pamphlet,  "Sove  with  Supercale," 

write  tO:  Wamwtta  Mills,  New  Bedford,  Mass 


e  au 


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K 


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M    A    N    U  F 
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E  T  T 

A     D  . 


THE  BIG  MOVE 


City  divellers  who  longed 
for  their  oivn  house  and  land. 
Bill  and  Fran  Calkins 
ook  up  hudgeting  .  .  .  are  now 
At  Home  in  Levittoivn, 
Pennsylvania. 

by  Betty  Hannah  Hoffman 

PHOTOGRAPHS  BY  VICTOR  JORGENSEN 


4T  42  Pleasant  Lane,  in  Levittown.  Pennsvl- 
l\-  vania.  a  tall,  dark-haired  young  man  is 
planting  dallodils  while  his  two  youngsters 
romp  ahout  handled  to  the  ears  in  snow  suits. 
Bill  Calkins  hums  as  he  hacks  away  at  the  near- 
frozen  earth  with  a  trowel.  Whether  the  hulbs 
ever  survive  the  remaining  cold  days  of  winter 
is  a  big  question,  but  for  the  past  five  years 
Bill  Calkins"  life  has  been  fdled  with  so  many 
question  marks  and  uncertainties  that  he  is  be- 
ginning to  take  most  things  on  faith. 

A  year  ago.  he  and  his  wife  Fran  felt  brttke 
and  discouraged.  Their  apartment  in  Camden. 
New  Jersey,  cost  close  to  SlOO  a  month, 
or  one  third  of  Bill's  take-home  pay.  Fran, 
who  suffers  from  a  bad  back,  struggled  up 
and  down  two  flights  of  stairs  a  day  w-th  wet 
laundrv,  tricycles  and  a  play  pen.  worried 

/  / 

nm  mim  ims 


about  the  effects  of  a  rough  neighborhood  on 
her  two  small  daughters.  After  five  years  of 
marriage,  their  total  savings  were  SI 50.  A  home 
of  their  own  seemed  a  complete  impossibility. 
I'hey  still  look  upon  it  as  a  miracle. 

To  the  outsider,  too.  Levittown.  Pennsyl- 
vania, seems  like  a  vast  mirage,  a  city  of  4000 
spanking-new  ranch  homes  where  a  short  year 
ago  were  acres  ot'corn  and  wheat.  250-year-old 
stone  farmhouses  and  red  barns.  Over  the  nar- 
row, high-crow  ned  "corduroy  "  roads  of  lower 
Bucks  Countv  dash  an  army  of  cement  mixers, 
bulldozers  and  trucks  erecting  a  new  Levitt 
home  every  sixteen  minutes.  By  1955,  Levit- 
town w  ill  have  20.000  such  homes,  making  it  in 
three  years  the  tenth  largest  city  in  Pennsyl- 
vania. More  than  a  housing  development. 
Levittown  will  eventuallv  contain  it^  own 


I 

i 


Hon  iMERm  LUES 


Movinj^  took  ^Yt  hours,  no  breakage.  Months  ahead,  Fran  and  Bill  saved 
empty  A&P  cartons,  ''carried  home  S2  worth  of  groceries  in  4  or  5  boxes. 
Stacked  them  in  the  basement.  When  we  counted,  we  had  90  for  packing!" 


"Big  windows  help  us  get  acquainted."  New  home  gets  built  every  16  minutes, 
new  young-marrieds  move  in  every  day.  Most  familiar  vehicles:  "baby  car- 
riages, bulldozers,  moving  vans."  By  1955,  town  will  be  tenth  largest  in  state. 


Safe  future  for  Lee  and  Anne:  schools, 
playgrounds  nearby.  Town  has  10,000 
children.  Streets  curve  to  slow  up  cars. 


"Close  to  4000 families 
are  here  now  . , .  a  year  ago 
it  was  corn  and  wheat.'' 


schools,  churches,  playgrounds.  Also  planned 
are  eight  Olympic-sized  swimming  pools,  ten 
baseball  diamonds,  a  town  hall  with  an 
opera-sized  stage  and  a  multimillion-dollar  de- 
partment-store shopping  center. 

"Life  seems  beginning  for  us  at  last,"  glows 
Fran,  a  long-legged  beauty  of  twenty-nine  with 
a  lovely  figure  and  strawberry-blond  hair,  as  she 
shows  off  her  new  home,  gleaming  with  brass 
and  furniture  polish.  A  dozen  times  a  day  she 
steps  out  to  admire  the  landscaping  of  their 
70'  X  lOO'  lot — the  young  maples,  the  grape- 
vine, the  rambling  rosebush,  the  flowering 
shrubs,  the  new  lawn,  all  included  in  the  $10,- 
000  purchase  price. 

"We  even  have  a  dog.  Ginger,"  she  adds, 
pointing  to  the  half-cocker,  half-terrier  hound 
the  Calkinses  acquired  from  the  dogcatcher. 
"It's  a  she,  but  it's  going  to  be  a  him  when  we 
get  around  to  it." 

"You  mean  a  shim,"  laughed  the  girl  from 
next  door. 

Neighbors  troop  in  all  day  to  visit,  young 
women  in  blue  jeans  with  bandanas  tied  about 
their  heads,  trailed  by  one,  two  or  three  tod- 
dlers. Fran  gets  out  the  coffeepot  and  they 
settle  down  to  swapping  ideas  and  rumors  about 
their  pet  subject  of  conversation — Levittown. 

Although  the  4000  houses  now  finished  have 
identical  floor  space,  there  are  four  variations 


I .'»:{ 


kiiises"  cliores  are  lilty-filty.  Su  Hill,  biuiiig 
lew  car  axle,  bought  Fran  a  brand-new  clean- 
mop.  ("Darling,  vou  remembered,  alter  all!'") 


the  basic  three-bedroom  Levittowner  house. 

pastel  shades  of  beige,  gray,  yellow, 
ik  and  green  with  contrasting  trim.  As  all  the 
uses  have  picture  windows  front  and  back, 
3  favorite  recreation  of  the  newcomers  is 
zing  into  the  lighted  homes  at-night  to  pick 
decorating  ideas.  One  day  a  woman  knocked 
the  Calkinses'  front  door  and  said  that  she 
d  been  admiring  their  white-painted  fireplace 
)m  her  bedroom  window  and  would  they 
nd  if  she  took  a  closer  look?  Fran  was  de- 
hted,  and  went  on  to  show  her  other  changes 
11  had  made.  A  half-wall  separated  the  kitchen 
hich  is  the  front  room)  from  the  living  room 
t  the  rear) ;  Bill  made  the  two  rooms  com- 
jtely  separate  by  building  bookcases  to  the 
iling.  The  third  bedroom  they  included  in  the 
ing  room,  giving  them  a  room  27'  long, 
hen  they  moved  in,  the  w  hole  interior  of  the 
luse  was  painted  in  an  ivory  color  speckled 
th  green.  Because  the  living  room  is  flooded 
th  sun  and  light,  they  changed  the  color  to  a 
ol  forest  green. 

Levittown  is  still  new  enough  to  provide 
enty  of  mishaps,  especially  before  phones  and 
reet  lights  were  installed.  A  neighbor  of  Bill 
id  Fran's  told  them  of  the  evening  she  set  out 
get  her  hair  set  in  nearby  Bristol,  planning  to 
:  home  by  ten  p.m.  By  the  time  she  reached 
ivittown  again,  however,  most  of  the  houses 


Week  end:  Calkinscs'  far  ii|>  on  jjH  k.  Hill  linkerti  on  cceetilrif  ".i')  (Jlds  (cost 
.?l2r))  tlial  "niii'<  line  wcckdaN     Inii  wiin'i  work  on  SaliirdavH  or  liolidays." 


^cai-old  Amu:  and  l-)<'ar-old  I^-c  "laiiglu  im-  to  do  im  things  at  finrre,"  Kran 
sums  up  fondly.  Loan  paid  mal<!rnily  cost;  she  worrii^s  over  lack  of  nent  egg. 


154 


''JVe  used  up  all  our  savings, 
borrowed  $550.  But  it's  a  miracle, 
oivning  a  home.  Well  swing  it. " 


Dinner's  at  6:30,  on  Bill's  return.  Mornings,  he  leaves  for 
bank  job  at  7  a.m.,  drives  five  miles  to  Bristol,  takes  train 
to  Philadelphia,  piqk*  up  car  on  way  home — travel:  three 
hours.  Fran's  going  to  learn  driving:  "Car's  a  necessity." 


Hazel-eyed  Lee  sparkles  with  mischief,  makes 
iVieiids  quickly.  "We  were  anxious  about  her 
111  city  parks  .  .  .  she  has  good  playmates  here." 


were  dark  so  that  she  couldn't  read  the  num- 
bers. She  spent  from  ten  until  midnight  driving 
about  in  circles  among  4000  homes  trying  to 
find  her  own.  She  was  almost  hysterical  when 
she  hailed  two  men  to  ask  directions.  Turned 
out  to  be  her  worried  husband  and  a  policeman. 
"Even  dogs  and  cats  can't  find  their  own  door- 
step in  Levittown,"  laughs  Fran,  who  is  forever 
taking  in  strays. 

The  Calkinses  have  be^n  bowled  over  by  the 
helpfulness  of  their  neighbors.  One  Sunday 
their  1935  Oldsmobile  refused  to  go.  Two  men 
from  next  door  appeared,  diagnosed  the  trouble 
as  a  broken  axle,  and  devoted  the  next  six  hours 
of  their  day  of  leisure  to  fixing  it.  Several  doors 
down  the  street  lives  a  woman  from  Indiana. 
Fran  first  met  her  when  her  automatic  washer 
started  vibrating  right  off  the  floor  and  Fran 
dashed  out  into  the  street  for  help.  The  woman 
from  Indiana  ran  in  and  forced  the  dial  back  to 
"Off,"'thus  stripping  the  gears  in  one  easy  op- 
eration, but  a  warm  friendship  was  formed. 
When  she  learned  of  the  erratic  behavior  of  the 
Calkinses'  jalopy  ("I  can  think  of  at  least  five 
occasions  in  the  past  two  months  when  we  got 
all  ready  to  go  someplace  and  it  wouldn't  start," 


A 


says  Fran),  she  insisted  upon  driving  Fran  in 
her  car  to  market  once  a  week.  "She's  always 
appearing  at  the  door  with  home-baked  cookies 
or  cake,  and  she  baby-sits  for  us  for  nothing," 
marvels  Fran.  "The  nicest  thing  about  Levit- 
town is  that  the  people  come  from  all  parts  of 
the  country  and  are  in  all  lines  of  work.  It  was 
built  because  of  the  world's  largest  steel  plant 
going  up  in  lower  Bucks  County,  but  we've 
met  very  few  steelworkers." 

Fran  Calkins  describes  herself  as  "a  light- 
headed kind  of  person.  I  always  look  at  the  fun 
side  of  things  and  overlook  the  difficulties. 
That's  when  I  run  into  trouble."  She  thought 
that  when  she  married  Bill  in  1947  he  would 
"help  me  settle  down"  and  "show  me  the  seri- 
ous side  of  things."  Bill,  on  his  part,  had  exact- 
ing standards  of  what  a  wife  should  be,  and  for 
several  years  this  situation  provided  plenty  of 
fireworks.  The  first  big  question  of  their  mar- 
riage was  whether  it  was  going  to  last. 

"The  day  after  the  honeymoon  ended,  we 
started  fighting  like  cats  and  dogs,"  reminisces 
Fran.  "After  a  particularly  bad  quarrel,  when 
Bill  would  tell  me  I  wasn't  the  kind  of  girl 

he  thought  he'd  (Continued  on  Page  164) 


\ 


I^oman/f'c- 

Willi  luiii   llic  <  ()|,,r  of  HiiiihliiiHr  . 
skill  lliiil  iH  liiiliaiilly  iri-A\  .  .  .  ii' 
no  w<>ri<l<i  June  I  In  vcr  in  cIiomiii  for 
llu!  HcrccirK  iiiDHl  nmiuiilic  ioIch! 


Til  is  is 

SC(TCt  of 

lovelier  skin ' 

says  f /me  Haver 


lily  beauty  care  you  can  make 
ur  own— simple  Lux  Soap  Facials! 
e  how  soon  tlie  Skin-Tonic  Action  in 
IX  care  brings  fresher  skin  to  you. 


Look  at  the  tantalizing  sparkle  of  June 
Haver's  skin — and  listen  to  this  romantic 
star's  beauty  tip.  "My  beauty  care  is 
simply — Lux  Soap  care.  I  find  a  daily 
Lux  Facial  not  only  cleanses  thoroughly, 
but  really  smooths  and  freshens  my  skin." 

Will  Lux  care  work  its  smoothing, 
softening  benefits  on  your  skin?  .  .  .  Yesl 

It's  the  gentle  Skin-Tonic  Action,  a 
toning  action,  in  Lux  care  that  makes 
such  a  lovely  difference!  It  helps  your 
skin  retain  dewy  moistness.  It's  this 
moistness  that  gives  skin  a  young  lumi- 
nous look  .  .  .  that  exciting  sparkle  men 
find  so  captivating. 

With  just  one  cake  of  Lux,  your  skin 
can  look  definitely  smoother,  definitely 
fresher.  So  try  daily  Lux  Soap  facials  now. 
Start  your  complexion  on  a  new  life  of 
loveliness  .  .  .  this  very  day. 


JUNE  HAVER  starring  in  the  20th  Century-Fox  picture  "THE  GIRL  NEXT  DOOR  ' 


Color  hy  Technicolor 


a  talented  musician  off-screen. 

ys,  "Two  things  are  daily  musts  for 
)iano  practice — and  my  Lux  Soap 
or  fresh,  sparkling  skin." 


Candidly  beautiful.  June's  radiant 
complexion  needs  little  help  from 
make-up.  She  tells  you,  "It's  so  easy 
to  have  naturally  beautiful  skin." 


"Lux  facials  work  so  quickly!  All  I  do  is 

massage  in  the  gentle  Lux  lather  with  my 
fingertips.  Then,  after  my  warm  and  cold 
rinse,  my  skin  looks  so  soft  ...  so  alive!" 


Nine  out  of  ten  screen  stars  use  Lux.  This 
gentle  beauty  care  is  guaranteed  by  Lever  Brothers 
Company  to  improve  any  normal  skin — or  your 
money  refunded.  Enjoy  Lux  Beauty  Baths,  too. 


mwJMERm  IMS 


Veal  Stroganojjl 
Buttered  Noodles    Vegetable  Aspic 
Apple  Pudding 


This  is  a  favorite  party  menu  of  ours — sometimes  I 
make  it  for  just  Bill  and  me  if  I  am  feeling  ambitious. 
Voal  Siroganoff.  Cut  \}i  pounds  thin-sliced  veal 
cutlet  into  ,'4"  strips.  Sprinkle  with  juice  of  1  lemon. 
Saute  1  onion,  chopped,  and  14  pound  mushrooms, 
sliced,  in  2  tablespoons  butter  or  margarine.  Remove 
mushrooms  and  onion  from  pan.  Add  2  tablespoons 


By  FRAN  CALKINS 

more  butter  or  margarine  to  pan  in  which  you  cooked 
the  vegetables.  Heat  until  sputtery  hot.  Drain  the 
veal  strips,  dredge  witli  flour.  Saute  in  the  hot  fat 
until  brown.  Season  with  1  teaspoon  salt  and  a  little 
pepper.  Add  onions  and  mushrooms.  Stir  in  1  cup 
thick  commercial  sour  cream  and  simmer  slowly 
until  cream  is  well  heated.  Serves  6.  VfaviabI*' 
A»pi<r.  Prepare  2  packages  lemon-  or  lime-flavored 
gelatin  dessert  according  to  directions  on  the  pack- 
age. Add  H  teaspoon  salt  and  2  tablespoons  vinegar. 
Chill  until  sirupy.  Fold  in  .3  tablespoons  finely 
chopped  onion,  1  cup  chopped  green  pepper,  and 
,^  1  cup  peeled,  seeded  and  chopped  cucum- 

ber. Pour  into  a  IM-quart  loaf  pan  or  mold. 
Chill  until  firm.  Unmold  and  garnish  with 
tomato  wedges  and  ripe  olives.  Serves 
6-8.  ApMtli'  i'utldina.  Mix  together 
'^4,  cup  sugar,  3  tablespoons  flour, 
1  teaspoon  baking  powder  and  i-i  tea- 
spoon salt.  Beat  1  egg  until 
light.  Add  to  dry  ingredients 
with  1  teaspoon  vanilla, 
cup  chopped  pecans  and  1 
cup  peeled,  cored  and  diced  tart 
apples.  Mix  well.  Pour  into  a 
greased  8"  pie  plate.  Bake  in 
a  moderately  hot  oven  — 
375°  F.— 30  minutes.  Cut  in 
wedges  and  serve  warm  with 
whipped  cream.  Serves  6. 
( Bill  also  loves  this  served 
with  vanilla  ice  cream.) 


j  Hot  Stuffed  Avocados 

I  Green  Salad 

j  Melba  Toast 

I  Diced  Pineapple  and  Raspberry  Compotei 


ilot  Stuffed  Avoeadoa.  Cut  3  avocado^ 
half.  Remove  pits.  Put  1  tablespoon  vinegar 
slice  of  garlic  in  each  half.  Let  stand  30  minu 
Melt  2  tablespoons  butter.  Blend  in  2  tablespo3 
flour.  Add  1  cup  light  cream  and  cook,  stirring  unt 
thickened.  Add  H  teaspoon  Worcestershire  sauci 
lli  teaspoons  salt  and  dash  of  pepper,  1  tablespoo 
grated  onion,  M  teaspoon  celery  salt  and  2  cup 


Chinese  Beef  and  Rice  Broccoli 
Brown-and-Serve  Salt  Sticks 

Chocolate  Ice  Cream 
with  Hot  Chocolate  Sauce 


This,  like  so  many  Chinese  dishes, 
is  terribly  economical,  and  stretches  amaz- 
ingly, h^s  a  good  nay  to  use  up  leftover  roast  - 
beef.  1'hinvtn'  Itovf  and  Hiro.  Saute  '  2  pound 
sliced  mushrooms  in  !i  cup  butter  or  margarine  un- 
til tender.  Add  1  stalk  celery,  cut  into  thin  crosswise 
slices,  1  large  peeled  onion  and  seeded  green 
pepper,  diced.  Add  1  peeled  clove 
garlic,  crushed.  Mix  in  2  tablespoons 
soy  sauce,  2  cups  cooked  rice  seasoned  with 
salt,  and  154  cups  cooked  beef  cut  into  strips. 
One  peeled,  diced,  fresh  tomato  may  also  be  added, 
f  desired.  Heat  through,   stirring  occasionally. 

It  will  brown  a  bit.  Just  before  serv- 
ing, break  2  raw  eggs  into  mixture 
and  stir  together  quickly.  At  this  point,  add 
H  head  lettuce,  chopped.  Don't  cook  after  lettuce 
is  added.  Serve  at  once,  so  lettuce  will  stay  crisp 
and  eggs  will  not  overcook.  Serves  4-6.  Serve 
with  additional  soy  sauce. 

This  dish  has  a  really  unusual  taste  and  has 
turned  out  to  be  something  of  a  specialty  of  ours.  It 
is  also  good  when  it's  made  with  strips  of  leftover 
roast  pork  or  chicken. 


cooked  crab  meat,  chicken  or  lobster,  and  a  dash  j 
cayenne.  Heat.  Pour  vinegar  and  garlic  from  avo|i 
cados.  Peel.  Fill  with  creamed  mixture.  Sprinkle  witl 
H  cup  grated  Cheddar  cheese.  Place  in  baking  par 
with  H"  water  in  bottom  of  pan.  Bake  15  minutes  ii 
moderate  oven — 350°  F. — till  cheese  melts.  Serves6 


Pork-Chop  Casserole 
Whole-Wlieat  Rolls 
String  Beans  in  Cheese  Sauce 
Fresh  Pears 


Pwrk-t'hop  VaHHvrwU'.  Season  4  shoulder  porr 
chops  with  salt  and  pepper.  Roll  chops  in  flour  an( 


"We  love  having  our  Iriciifls  stay  for  dinner,"  says  Fran  Calkins,  "wlicllicr  it's  sim|)le 
family  fare,  or  sometliing  a  bit  more  special."  Fran  and  Hill  ol'icn  carry  a  hig  tray  with 
dessert  and  coffee  into  their  new  living  room~-everyoii«'  \u-\\i~  liiin-cll.  Imncl  -tvle. 


I Inin-iiitil-l'iiti-iiiijilr  iirnil 
t'tjiantffu.s  nilh  liitlli  n-il  ('.rnmbs 
Cnltl  h'ruil  I'ir 


itrnii.  Tukc  u  fnc<jium  f)i/(;  mHcc  of  iiniokcd 
ic.nK  III  <  Ml  i\|M'  ham  (rut  ahiiut  '  ihirk).  S<;<ir»; 
fat  ariiiiiid  i-<lgc>,.  Hrojl  .'>  iniiiiilrx  on  one  hide,  turn 
and  Iirnil  .'{  iiiiinilf'-  nri  ntln-r  Hide,  'i'lirti  place  'i*- 
lliirk  f^lnv,  (il  hliurp  (ilieddur  i  licci.c  on  lo(i  of  Imin 
tilicc — cnou^li  til  I'ovcr  the  liain.  On  tfi|i  of  i:\wtme 
arrange  I  slices  canned  |iini-a|i|i|r.  Hroil  another  2 


then  brown  in  a  little  shortening.  Phu-e  in  a  shallow 
baking  dish.  In  the  pan  you  used  to  brown  the  chops, 
cook  %  cup  chopped  onion  and  1  peeled  clove  garlic, 
minced,  until  slightly  brown.  Sprinkle  about  iiaif  of 
the  onion  over  the  chops  in  the  baking  dish.  Then 
on  each  chop  place  a  '  ^"-thick  slice  of  tomato  which 
has  been  sprinkled  with  salt  and  pepper  and  then 


lusted  lightly  in  flour.  Sprinkle  the  rest  of  the  onion 
over  the  tomato.  Cover  pan.  Bake  for  1  hour  at 
'MS°  F.  until  chops  are  tender.  Remove  the  cover 
during  the  last  15  minutes.  Garnish  with  a  few 
slices  of  stuffed  olives.  Serves  4.  Strina  Bvanit  in 
Chvese  Sauef.  Make  1  cup  medium  cream  sauce, 
using  2  tablespoons  flour,  2  tablespoons  butter  or 
margarine,  1  cup  milk,  H  teaspoon  salt  and  a  little 
pepper.  Add  H  cup  grated  Cheddar  cheese  and  dash 
of  Worcestershire  sauce.  Heat  carefully  until  cheese 
is  melted.  Pour  over  cooked  green  beans.  This 
quantity  of  sauce  is  sufficient  for  1  pound  of  beans. 
Serves  6. 


Shrinip-aiul-Lohstcr  Creole  Rice 
Romaine-and- Artichoke-Heart  Salad 
Pineapple  Tapioca  Pudding 


Hcrcs  one  oj Our  all-lime  fdiorilfs-  l  ery  stretch- 
able  too.  Shrimp-and-lAthHlfT-  f'rt^tlf. 

Peel  and  devein  2  pnunds  raw- 
shrimp.  Chop  2  large  peeled 
onions,  2  seeded  green  pep- 
pers and  1  peeled  clove 
garlic.  Saute  in  3  table- 
sponns  butter  or  margarine 
until  peppers  and  onions 
are  tender.  Season  with  1 
teaspoon  salt,  }i  teaspoon  pa- 
prika, }/i  teaspoon  pepper, 
}/s  teaspoon  basil,  dash 
of  cayenne  pepper  and  '4 
teaspoon  Worcestershire 
sauce.  Add  2  cups  canned 
tomatoes  and  2  small  rock-lobster 
tails,  cooked,  shelled  and  cut  up.  Simmer 
5  minutes.  Add  the  cleaned  raw  shrimp,  mix 
thoroughly,  cover  and  simmer  10  min 
ules  until  shrimp  are  cooked.  Serve 
with  freshly  cooked  rice.  Serves 
6.  Pini-applf  Tapinra 
i'uddin».  Prepare  1 
package  vanilla  tapi- 
oca pudding,  following 
the  directions  on  the 
package.  Cool.  Add  1 
cup  drained,  canned 
crushed  pineapple.  Whip  Vi 
cup  of  hea\7  cream  and 
fold  in.  Chih.  Serves  6. 


minutes  or  until  cheese  melts  and  pineapple  is 
heated   through.   Serves   4.   fold  Frmlt  Fir. 

Two  cups  of  any  well-drained  fresh,  canned  or 
frozen  fruit  may  be  used  in  the  filling  for  this  pie. 
Raspberries,  peaches  and  strawberries  are  good. 
Combine  1 2  pound  marshmallow  s  (about  .32)  with 
H  cup  milk  in  top  of  double  boiler  and  let  marsh- 
mallows  melt  over  hot  water.  Cool  thoroughly,  but 
don"t  chill  to  the  jelling  stage.  Beat  out  the  lumps. 
Fold  in  1  cup  heavy  cream,  whipped,  1  teaspoon 
vanilla  and  '4  teaspoon  salt.  Arrange  marshmallow 
mixture  and  prepared  fruit  of  your  choice  in  layers 
in  a  baked  9"  pie  shell.  Chill  for  an  hour,  at  least,  in 
ref  rigerator.  (Take  from  refrigerator  about  20  min- 
utes before  serving  to  get  chill  out  of  crust.)  Serve 
w  ith  additional  fruit,  if  desired. 


158 


LADIES'       HOME       J    O    U    U    N   A  L 


March,  J9S3 


Don't  be  a 
die-hard 

Are  you  always  the 
last  girl  in  your  set 
to  take  up  a  new 
idea?  For  instance, 
when  it  comes  to 
sanitary  protection, 
are  you  still  wedded 
to  that  belt-and-pin  routine  every 
month?  Switch  to  Tampax  which 
is  worn  internally.  No  odor.  No 
chafing.  No  bulky  pads  to  dispose 
of.  .  .  .  Think  these  things  over 
and  next  time  you  buy  sanitary 
protection  ask  for  Tampax  at  your 
regular  drug  or  notion  counter. 
You'll  say  it's  wonderful!  Tampax 
Incorporated,  Palmer,  Mass. 


Dorft  be  a 
timid  soul 

Please  lady,  listen! 
Don't  hold  back 
from  Tampax  just 
because  it's  different 
from  the  familiar 
kind  df  monthly  pro- 
tection  you  have 
hitherto  used.  Tampax  is  doctor- 
invented  for  internal  absorption 
and  it  is  many,  many  times  smaller 
than  the  external  kind.  You  can- 
not even  feel  it  while  wearing.  No 
pins;  no  belts;  no  odor!  Wear  it  in 
tub  or  shower.  Millions  of  girls  and 
women  use  it.  Why  think  you  are 
any  different?  Sold  at  drug  and 
notion  counters.  Tampax  Incorpo- 
rated, Palmer,  Mass. 


Dorft  be  a 
know-it-all 


Don't  trust  to 
hearsay  when  con- 
sidering Tampax  for 
monthly  sanitary 
protection.  Test  it 
yourself.  Note  the 
small,  neat  form  — 
easily  disposable.  Note  the  slender 
white  applicator  for  easy  insertion. 
Note  the  great  absorption.  . . . 
Note  the  pure  surgical  cotton 
firmly  stitched  for  security.  When 
in  place  Tampax  is  conforming  in 
shape  so  you  cannot  even  feel  it. 
. . .  Sold  at  drug  and  notion  coun- 
ters in  3  absorbencies.  Month's 
supply  goes  in  purse.  Tampax  In- 
corporated, Palmer,  Mass. 


FAMILY-LIFE  i:OUR^»E§  FOR  TEEN-AGERS 

(Continued  from  Page  32) 


wasn't  there  before.  If  we  do  have  problems 
we  can't  solve  ourselves,  we  know  people 
who  will  be  glad  to  help  us  solve  them." 

Like  many  another,  this  family  has  many 
past  mistakes  to  forget  and  smooth  over;  but 
it  is  facing  the  future  with  confidence  be- 
cause of  what  it  has  learned  through  the  past 
nine  years  from  the  Family  Life  Education 
Council. 

Asheville.  in  those  tangled  days  during  the 
war,  found,  as  did  many  other  communities, 
the  problems  of  adolescence  and  of  disrupted 
family  life  were  brought  sharply  into  focus. 
Soldiers  from  nearby  Army  camps  sought 
recreation  in  Asheville  and  soon  social  work- 
ers, parents,  teachers  and  churchmen  were 
alarmed  at  the  growth  of  delinquency  among 
teen-aged  girls.  Venereal  disease  among  ado- 
lescents became  a  major  public-health  prob- 
lem for  the  first  time  in  the  city's  history. 
With  it  came  a  sharp  increase  in  juvenile 
crime  and  in  the  number  of  unsettled  homes. 
Desertions  and  divorces  were  everyday  hap- 
penings. Teachers  found  new  restlessness  and 
dissatisfaction  among  their  pupils;  parents 
helplessly  watched  increasing  tensions  rising 
between  them  and  their  children. 

The  citizens  of  Asheville  could  have  said, 
"Well,  these  are  difficult  times;  things  will 
straighten  out  when  the  war  is  over."  Or 
they  could  have  seethed  with  righteous  moral 
indignation  and  sent  the  youngsters  who 
erred  away  to  state  institutions.  But  they 
were  wiser  than  that.  In  these  problems, 
pointed  up  by  a  time  of  general  emergency, 
they  saw  a  lasting  threat  to  their  homes  and 
community — a  weakening  of  the  home  as  a 
moral  force  and  as  a  stabilizing  influence. 
The  cure  lay  only  in  prevention,  not  in  doc- 
toring up  a  bad  situation.  So  the  people  of 
Asheville  started  to  work. 

It  was  Dr.  Mildred  I.  Morgan  who  first 
brought  them  the  solution  they  finally  hit 
upon  as  the  sound  answer.  A  trained  sociolo- 
gist, Mrs.  Morgan  was  the  wife  of  a  professor 
in  an  Asheville  junior  college,  had  spent 
many  years  in  the  city  and  knew  the  prob- 
lem. She  knew  the  value  of  college  courses  in 
family  life  and  that  they  had  already  proved 
successful  in  some  progressive  high  schools. 

But  Mildred  Morgan  was  one  teacher  in  a 
community  of  124,000  where  thousands  of 
families  were  in  need.  How  could  she  do  it? 
Few  high-school  teachers  in  Asheville  were 
prepared  to  teach  these  courses  or  could  find 
time  to  fit  them  into  their  already  over- 
crowded schedules.  She  knew  that  the  prob- 
lem extended  even  beyond  the  city  schools, 
that  the  need  was  more  acute  in  rural  dis- 
tricts. 

Funds  were  available  for  only  one  trained 
high-school  teacher  of  family-life  problems. 
Mildred  Morgan  took  the  job— one  teacher 
for  124,000— and,  miraculously  enough,  fig- 
ured out  a  way  to  do  it.  Enlisting  support 
of  school  authorities,  she  organized  a 
community-wide  family-life-education  pro- 
gram for  parents,  teachers  and  students. 
Co-operation  was  the  keynote  of  the  project 
and  co-operation  was  what  she  needed. 

She  began  casting  about  for  allies.  Two  of 
the  first  and  hardest  workers  were  Dr.  W. 
Perry  Crouch,  energetic  young  Baptist  cler- 
gyman, and  Dr.  Catherine  Carr,  school 
doctor. 

"Doctor  Morgan  got  me  to  work  harder 
and  longer  on  this  project  than  anyone  else 
ever  got  me  to  work  in  my  life,"  Doctor 
Crouch  admits.  "  It  got  to  be  a  standing  joke 
at  home  that  Mildred  Morgan  could  get  to 
see  me  when  even  my  wife  couldn't." 

"It  was  the  V.  D.  situation  that  got  me 
started  looking  for  preventive  measures," 
Doctor  Carr  recalls.  "When  I  heard  Mildred 
Morgan  explain  her  idea,  I  just  knew  she  had 
the  right  answer." 

Men  and  women  like  these— volunteers 
who  were  willing  to  study,  teach,  preach,  or- 
ganize meetings,  raise  money— made  up  the 
Family  Life  Education  Council.  Mayors, 
businessmen,  teachers,  social  workers,  recrea- 
tion leaders,  parents  all  pitched  in  to  help 
themselves  and  their  children,  their  neigh- 


bors and  their  neighbors'  children  to  find 
happiness  in  their  present  and  future  homes. 

It  was  the  youngsters  themselves  who 
started  the  Homes  of  Tomorrow  Club.  From 
their  first  classroom  discussions  of  family  life, 
they  became  so  fascinated  that  they  asked  to 
continue  them  outside  the  classroom.  Co- 
operative, understanding  Doctor  Crouch 
suggested  they  make  a  real  event  of  it,  with 
dinner  first,  a  couple  of  hours  of  serious  dis- 
cussion to  follow,  rounded  out  by  an  hour 
or  so  of  dancing  and  games.  The  boys  and 
girls  of  Asheville  really  took  to  it. 

Now,  if  you're  an  adult  and  you're  lucky 
enough  to  get  in  on  one  of  their  monthly 
meetings,  you'll  hear  boys  and  girls,  breath- 
lessly and  seriously,  discussing  such  subjects 
as  how  to  develop  a  sound  attitude  toward 
sex;  how  to  understahd  and  appreciate  their 
parents;  Low  to  develop  their  personalities; 
how  to  act  on  a  date ;  what  sort  of  boy  or  girl 
to  marry. 

These  aren't  just  bull  sessions,  either.  A 
steering  committee  of  teen-agers  from  each  of 
the  county's  high  schools  invites  one  adult 
speaker  or  discussion  leader  to  help  talk  over 
the  question  of  the  evening.  Clergymen, 
teachers,  public  officials,  doctors,  or  anyone 
else  in  the  community  the  teen-agers  like  and 
trust,  have  been  guests.  Although  two  meet- 


Spring  Song 

Bfi  Klainv  SnmmvrH 

I  dust  a  chair. 

My  lover  is  coming. 
I  wash  my  hair. 

My  lover  is  coming. 
I  kneel  in  prayer. 

My  lover  is  coming 
Tomorrow,  tomorrow,  tomorrow. 


ings  of  the  club  are  held  simultaneously,  nei- 
ther big  meeting  place  will  hold  more  than  a 
fraction  of  those  who  want  to  attend.  Mem- 
bers take  turns  attending  the  meetings,  await 
reports  of  delegates  when  they  can't  attend. 
Discussions  are  picked  up  the  following  days 
in  the  classrooms  and  carried  on  enthusiasti- 
cally. 

Like  girls  everywhere,  those  in  Asheville 
want  to  know  what  makes  a  girl  popular  or 
unpopular  with  boys.  They've  discovered  the 
best  way  to  find  out  is  to  ask.  The  girls  in  a 
club  write  out  their  questions  and  submit 
them  unsigned  to  the  boys,  one  by  one,  for 
frank  answers  at  a  meeting. 

"  Do  boys  really  like  a  girl  who  goes  in  for 
heavy  petting?"  they  ask.  Many  are  sur- 
prised when  the  boys  say  they  don't. 

"What  about  rouge,  lipstick,  nail  polish, 
mascara?"  Again  the  vote  is  "No."  The 
boys  like  their  dates  to  be  well  groomed  and 
attractive,  but  

"  Do  boys  go  for  girls  who  keep  you  guess- 
ing? "  they  ask.  And  the  boys  answer  simply, 
"Do  you  like  fellows  who  do  that?" 

"  What  about  alcohol,  low-neckline  dresses, 
cigarettes?"  "That  stuff  is  out,"  the  boys 
have  declared. 

"  Does  a  boy  think  a  girl  is  immature  if  her 
parents  insist  on  her  being  home  by  a  certain 
hour?"  "Of  course  not.  We  have  deadlines, 
too,"  they  remind  girls. 

Girls  were  surprised  to  find  that  the  ma- 
jority of  Asheville's  teen-age  boys  were 
downright  conservative. 

"  I  guess  I  was  my  own  worst  enemy,"  ad- 
mits a  pretty  high-school  senior.  "  I  wanted 
the  boys  to  like  me,  but  I  didn't  know  I  was 
going  about  it  in  the  worst  possible  way  until 
we  began  our  family-life  discussions.  Parties 
and  dates  are  a  lot  more  fun  now  that  every- 
body can  act  natural." 


Early  in  the  program,  teachers  learned 
that  only  one  of  ten  teen-agers  had  received 
enough  reliable  sex  education  at  home  to  meet 
his  own  adolescent  problems.  Parents  and 
teachers  learned  together,  in  classrooms  and 
in  conferences,  to  discuss  this  subject  withthe 
youngsters  calmly  and  without  embar^as^ 
ment.  They  found  that  gradually  sex  educa- 
tion has  become  a  well-integrated,  easy-to- 
handle  part  of  the  program,  that  the  empha- 
sis now  in  club  meetings  and  classrooms  cen- 
ters on  social  attitudes  and  behavior. 

Atmosphere  has  changed  a  lot  around  the 
schools  too.  In  Asheville  schools  today,  teach- 
ers report: 

"You  see  little  of  the  coyness  and  shy- 
ness, the  sniggering  adolescent  self-con- 
sciousness which  is  so  conspicuous  in  many 
schools.  There's  no  more  scribbling  of  for- 
bidden words  on  walls  and  sidewalks.  In- 
stead of  the  usual  dingy  greens,  browns  and 
grays,  walls  are  painted  white,  because  we 
know  they  will  stay  that  way." 

There  have  been  fewer  hasty  marriages 
and  unhappy  divorces  among  young  high- 
school  students,  school  authorities  point  out, 
giving  full  credit  to  this  change  in  a  bad  situ- 
ation to  the  Family  Life  Education  program. 

"  I  wanted  to  marry  last  year  and  I  thought 
my  mother  was  unreasonable  when  she 
wanted  me  to  wait,"  says  a  pretty  high- 
school  senior.  "Now  I  know  she  was  right. 
Our  talks  in  Homes  of  Tomorrow  really  con- 
vinced me.  My  boy  friend's  in  the  Army  and 
he'll  soon  be  going  overseas.  When  he  gets 
back,  I'll  be  out  of  school  and  will  have  a 
job.  We'll  get  married  then.  Meanwhile  we'll 
both  be  saving  for  a  home  and— yes— even 
for  children." 

Many  a  fellow  has  stojjped  demanding 
more  allowance  than  his  family's  budget  per- 
mits, now  that  he  and  his  friends  have  dis- 
cussed the  value  of  money  and  how  to  use  it 
wisely  in  their  family  courses.  It's  made  a 
youngster  realize  just  what  his  father  is  up 
against  with  money  problems  and  the  ex- 
pense of  raising  a  family. 

"We  don't  fight  about  wearing  family 
hand-me-downs  any  more  in  our  house.  We 
know  better  now  what  it's  all  about,"  says  a 
girl  student  who  has  grown  up. 

The  council  works  from  every  angle  to  pro- 
mote a  healthier  family  life:  school  courses 
on  the  family;  adult  classes  organized  by  the 
P.T.A.  groups;  teachers'  institutes.  Modem 
theories  of  child  development  and  training 
are  brought  to  parents  and  teachers. 

The  council's  interest  doesn't  stop  with 
pupil-parent-teacher  education.  Wholesome 
recreation  outside  the  home  is  also  its  con- 
cern. It  has  helped  the  city  to  set  up  a  year- 
round  recreation  program  in  parks,  play- 
grounds, school  gyms  and  in  the  big  base- 
ment ballroom  of  the  public  auditorium.  It 
helped  establish  the  city's  first  mental-health 
clinic  for  parents  and  children  with  deep- 
rooted,  difficult  problems  that  cannot  be 
ironed  out  in  regular  Family  Life  programs. 
It  is  now  working  for  a  suitable  juvenile  de- 
tention home  so  that  no  boy  or  girl  will  ever 
have  to  spend  the  night  in  the  city  jail. 

This  great  measure  of  progress  costs  the 
city  $2703  yearly.  It  pays  for  telephone, 
stamps,  stationery,  the  salary  of  a  young  sec- 
retary and  small  fees  to  outside  leaders  and 
speakers  for  its  teachers'  training  institutes 
and  biennial  two-day  conference  for  parents. 
Until  1947,  parents  and  friends  of  the  pro- 
gram raised  this  sum.  Now  it  is  a  part  of  the 
Community  Chest. 

But  the  greatest  amount  that  is  collected 
for  the  program  is  not  measured  in  money.  It 
comes  in  terms  of  the  hard  work  and  neigh- 
borliness  and  heartfelt  good  will  that  the 
people  of  Asheville  pour  into  their  Family 
Life  Education  program. 

Not  all  the  problems  of  the  city's  yoimg 
are  solved.  But  no  one  has  the  slightest  doubt 
that  Asheville's  program,  which  has  brought 
new  happiness  and  a  feeling  of  security  to 
thousands  of  families,  is  laying  a  firm  foun- 
dation for  a  better  life  for  all  its  citizens. 

THE  END 


I.    'A    l»     I     I      >  II     i>     \l     I  I     II     I       1(     N     \  I 


159 


When  in 


If  you're  not  sure  ...  if  you 
haven't  actually  seen  the 
"Sanforized"  label  .  .  . 
think  twice  before  you  buy 
that  cotton  dress. 

anforized"  is  the  trustable 
de-mark  that  tells  you 
ur  cottons  can't  possibly 
■ink  out  of  fit  .  .  .  out 
fashion. 

Even  if  it's  your  favorite 
salesgirl — make  her  show  you 
"Sanforized"  on  the  label. 


doubt -dorit 


lett,  Peabody  &  Co.,  Inc.  permits  use  of  its  trade-mark  "Sanforized,"  adopted  in  1930,  only  on  fabrics  which  meet  this  company's  rigid  shrinkage  requirements.  Fab.-ics  bearing  the 

trade-mark  "Sanforized"  will  not  shrink  more  than  1%  by  the  Government's  standard  test. 


una  Home- 


"How  do  yoii  make  grass  grow?  What  flowers  can  we  plant? 
We've  always  been  apartment  people," 
said  Fran  and  Bill  Calkins.  "Now  that  we're  landowners, 

what  shall  we  do  ahoiil  om-  70'  by  100'  plot  of  ground?" 


driveway 


hawthorns 


Bv  N\NCY  CRAWFORD 


WHAT  will  we  do  about  the  drip  from  the 
roof?"  Fran  and  Bill  Calkins  asked 
Richard  Pratt,  the  Journal's  gardening  expert. 
"And  what  do  we  do  about  the  glare?  We  have 
that  too — and  bad." 

"Well,  first  the  drip,"  he  answered.  "For  this 
you  make  what  amounts  to  a  path — a  neat  strip 
of  gravel  running  right  alongside  the  house 
under  the  roof  overhang,  wide  enough  to  re- 
ceive the  drip.  It  makes  a  handy  path  from 
which  to  wash  windows,  make  repairs  and  paint. 
And  anyhow,  it's  not  too  good  to  plant  right  up 
against  the  house — not  good  for  the  house  or 
the  plants.  You  can  see  already  what  the  drip 
has  done  to  the  lawn  you're  trying  to  start  and 
what  it's  doing  to  those  little  shrubs  that  are 
planted  too  close." 

"Where  do  we  start  planting,  then,  and  what 
do  we  plant?" 

"You  can  start  as  close  to  the  drip  strip  as 
you  want.  In  the  case  of  your  house,  I  would 
start  right  across  the  strip  from  the  picture 
window.  There  I  would  make  a  planting  of 
white-birch  clumps.  This  planting  would  run 
along  the  strip  in  a  jogging  line  just  long  enough 

PHOTOGRAPHS    BY  VICTOR  JORGENSEN 


screen 
living 
strong 


to  make  a  screen  for  the  window — a 
that  will  very  pleasantly  shield  your 
room  from  the  street  and  filter  that 
afternoon  sun  glare  from  the  living  room.  White 
birch  is  very  twiggy,  so  that  even  in  winter  and 
without  its  feathery  foliage  it  does  a  nice  job." 

"But  aren't  birch  clumps  expensive?" 

"You  can  buy  three-stemmed  white-birch 
clumps,  six  feet  high,  for  about  four  dollars 
apiece,  dug  with  a  good  ball  of  earth  around 
their  roots,  wrapped  in  burlap.  Three  birches 
would  be  enough,  but  five  would  make  a  more 
immediate  effect." 

"What  about  the  front  corner  of  the  house 
over  there  where  the  house  looks  so  stark  and 
bare  from  the  street?" 

"There  I  would  plant  three  hawthorns,  one 
off"  the  corner  about  four  feet  from  the  house 
and  one  about  six  feet  away  from  it  on  either  side, 
also  about  four  feet  from  the  house.  These  are 
slender,  flowering  trees,  with  bright  red  berries 
in  the  fall,  the  same  price  as  the  birches." 

"Shouldn't  we  plant  any  flowers  in  front?" 

"The  best  thing  I  can  suggest  would  be  that 
bagful  of  daff'odil  bulbs  I  see  you've  bought. 


HOn'AMEBmMES 


Just  'naturalize'  them  in  the  lawn 
around  the  birches  and  the  thorns. 
September  is  a  good  month  foi 
planting  them;  they're  practicall) 
foolproof,  and  they'll  bloom  every 
spring  practically  forever.  Just  don'l 
cut  down  their  leaves  after  bloom- 
ing until  the  leaves  begin  to  dry 
out  yellow  and  have  finished  feed- 
ing the  bulb." 

"I  love  to  have  flowers  to  cut 
for  the  house — what  could  I  grow 
for  cutting?" 

"Both  daff'odils  and  day  lilies  are 
fine  for  cutting,  and  another  per- 
ennial that  is  easy  to  grow  and 
superb  for  cutting  is  chrysanthe- 
mums. About  the  first  of  Septem- 
ber you  can  pick  out  the  kinds  andi 
colors  you  like  at  a  roadside  plant 
stand,  and  by  planting  them  af 
home  and  keeping  them  well  wa- 
tered in  dry  weather  yoy  can  cut 
flowers  all  through  October.  Each! 
plant  will  easily  divide  into  several, 
(he  following  spring." 

"What  can  we  do  around  at  the 
back  of  the  house?  It  will  take 
years  for  the  little  shrubs  the  builder 
planted  along  the  property  lines  to 
close  in  our  lot.  How  can  we  get  privacy  now?' 

"Well,  you  wouldn't  ever  get  much  privacy 
from  shrubs,  hedge  or  fence  along  the  property 
lines,  unless  one  of  these  enclosures  was  ex- 
tremely high;  and  besides,  in  most  develop- 
ments there  are  restrictions  against  such  en- 
closures. The  best  thing  is  to  make  a  moderately 
small  enclosure  into  which  you  could  step  from 
the  house — an  outdoor  room,  say  about  twenty- 
five  feet  square,  with  a  four-  to  five-foot  fence 
around  it.  In  there  you  can  get  real  seclusion 
right  away.  The  children  could  play  there;  it 
could  have  an  outdoor  grill  for  pleasant- 
weather  meals  and  entertaining." 

"Wouldn't  it  be  a  good  place  for  flowers?" 
"That's  the  next  thing  I  was  going  to  suggest. 
It's  the  very  best  possible  place  to  grow  a  few 
flowers.  Grow  a  nice  colorful  and  easy  annual* 
vine  on  the  fence,  like  cardinal  climber.  Pave 
most  of  your  outdoor  room  with  whatever  yon; 
can  aff"ord — btick,  flagging,  gravel;  leaving  an 
open  bed  inside  against  d  sunny  part  of  the  fence 
for  your  flowers." 

"What  about  our  lawn?  How  can  we  make' 
the  grass  smooth  and  thick  and  keep  it  that  way?" 


u'vo  asked  the  liardcsl  (|ii('sli()ii  last.  lUil 
will  follow  a  few  simpler  rules,  and  are 
al)Iy  hieky,  you'll  gel  good  grass.  Spring 
crucial  lime.  As  soon  as  frosl  is  out  of 
"omul,  s|)read  I  he  whole  lawn  evenly 
liiiciy  ground  limestone  and  a  5-10-5 
er — lime  al  rale  of  2'^  pounds  every 
|uare  feel,  and  I  he  fertilizer  a  little  less 
lial,  aliout  I'j  pounds  every  100  square 
)o  it  only  when  the  grass  is  dry,  to  avoid 
ig.  Wherever  the  grass  looks  thin,  sprinkle 
;ood  grass-seed  mixture." 
hat  ahout  mowing  and  watering?" 
iver  mow  lower  than  1!  2  inches,  and  espe- 
in  warm  weather  leave  the  clippings  to  help 
iiid  mulch  the  gi-ass.  And  strangely  enough, 
Tie  to  water  well  is  before  hot  weather 
.  Heat  and  wetness 
rage  crab  grass— 
awn's  worst  enemy, 
better  to  let  your 
;et  a  little  brown  in 
leat  spell.  The  good 
s  will  survive  where 
'eeds  will  be  dis- 
ced." 


Table.  The  Calk- 
pet  coffee  table  cost 
.  "Fran's  cousin, 
rtist,  gave  us  an 
e  picture  frame 

she  got  at  an  auc- 
or  15  cents — very 
it  and  durable,  of 
1  oak,  part  gilded, 
rame  itself  is  30"  x 
We  refinished  it — 
avorite  routine  of 


Kvcry  l"<iw  niontliH  rniii  ami  Itill  imic  li 
up  till-  ^iliii'il  Iriiiitnin^  iiii  llii-ir  i  iilli-c 
laliic  willi  II  new  rout  <il  ^Wt  |iaiiil. 


varnish  remover,  pine  slain,  ami  a  gixtd  harii 
waxing.  We  Imd  piece  of  glass  cut  In  III  the 
center  seciiuu  lor  under  $.'5. 00.  We  had  a  [line 
base  made  to  rest  tlie  f  rame  on  for  about  S").0() 
jusl  four  legs,  and  a  magazine  shell  about  hall- 
way down,  which  wc  liiiisliid  in  llir  s|;iiii  to 
male!)  llie  frame." 

Rcjinishing  Job.  One  of  the  (".alkiiises'  hand- 
somest pieces  of  furnilure  is  an  old  Victorian 
washstand  on  which  they  did  a  complete  n- 
finishing  job.  'We  s[)otled  it  in  a  .Salvation 
Army  store,  for  $1.50.  It  had  iii<e  lines  (29" 
high,  31"  X  17"  top),  but  was  a  hideous  dark 
color,  and  we  bad  no  idea  of  what  the  wood 
would  turn  out  to  be.  We  could  only  hope. 
When  we  got  it  home,  ue  applied  several  coats 
of  varnish  remover, 
scraping  it  off  with  a 
putty  knife  and  paint 
scraper.  We  worked  at  it 
for  several  days,  two  or 
three  hours  at  a  time,  and 
gradually  an  attractive 
natural  light  oak  color 
began  to  appear.  Ml  the 
dark  stuff  oH",  we  sanded 
it  with  fme  sandpaper  and 
steel  wool.  (Oak  has  a 
deep  grain,  and  some  of 


Attractive  lamps  were  made  by  Bill  and  1  ran. 
Base  measures  9"  high,  10"  x  7"  across  lop. 
Heavy  iron  horsehead  fits  into  hole  on  lop. 


the  original  dark  finish 
rem.ained  dow'n  in  the 
graining,  which  gives  an 
interesting  eflect,  brings 
out  the  w  ood's  markings.) 
The  next  step  was  one 
coat  of  antique  pine-oil 
stain,  rubbed  on  with  a 

rag.     (Conliniied  on  Page  181) 


"While  refinishing  the  old  Victorian 
washstand,  we  found  that  the  longer 
we  waited  between  applying  the  wax, 
and  the  polisliing,  the  better  the  finish." 


Fran  decorated  the  outside  of  their  pho- 
nograph's speaker  wuth  a  replica  of  an 
old  Pennsylvania  Dutch  hex  sign.  H 
latches  on  front  of  cabinet  cost  §1.80. 


A  ji'wciry  rnf;ia\<  i  vull  jml  )<<ui  clnall 
cliild'h  nanii-  ami  aildn-H))  on  a  little 
tiiiMul  idi-iitificiilinn  dink  for  ')  rcnti)  a 
l<MliT.  Ini  u  lar^v  (((inniunily,  il'ii 
^'ood  iiimirano^  apiinhl  p'tlitig  loht. 


"Onr  laddcr-iiack  dining  chairs,"  -aid  fran  anil 
Hill,  "cosl  -SI ').'>."),  conic  knocked  down,  in  a 
package  which  includes  a  bottle  of  kIiw,  and  c*»ni- 
pfete  iiislructions  on  how  to  put  tlieiri  together. 

riiere  are  complete 
iiiateriaU  and  instriic- 
lionh  for  weaving  the 
•  liair  si-ats  too." 


"W  c  lia\  c  a  new 
garlgel  — a  drapery 
pfcater  that  is  so  ca.sy, 
llie  draperies  practi- 
cally make  them.selves. 
A  long  strip  of  cloth 
with  narrow  vertical 
slots  is  sewn  in  a 
straight  line  across 
the  top  of  the  material.  A  small  metal  forklike 
gadget  is  twisted  into  and  out  of  each  slot  in  the 
material.  Presto!  Pleats!" 

"We  use  a  set  of  small  wax  sticks— four  for  25 
cents,  in  four  colors — for  scratches  on  our  fur- 
niture, covering  cigarette  burns,  filling  in  cracks. 
Rub  it  in,  blend  with  a  small  piece  of  fiberboard 
that  comes  with  the  set,  and  you'd  never  know 
there'd  been  any  damage.  " 

The  Calkinses  have  a  new  puppy.  "Did  you 
know,"  they  said,  "that  if  you  put  a  clock  or  a 
large  watch,  wrapped  in  a  towel, 
in  the  puppy's  bed,  he  w  ill  sleep  '  ^^j^ 

the  night  through— won't  get 
lonely?" 

Have  you  longed  for  a  marble 
table  top,  and  found  that  it  was 
too  expensive?  There's  a  new 
marble-patterned  plastic  ve- 
neer, that  looks  for  all  the 
world  like  the  real  thing.  Wonderful  to  cover  the 
top  of  a  coffee  table,  give  a  Victorian  look  to  an 
old  bureau. 

"Did  you  know,"  say  the  Calkinses,  "that  making 
screens  is  easv?"  Bill  made  theirs  with  a  l"-wide 
frame  of  pine  strip- 
ping; cut  plastic 
screening  455  ■>"  x 
25' i"  and  tacked  it 
onto  one  side  of  each 
frame;  covered  the 
rough  edges  with 
strips  of  half-round 
molding. 


Sliding  panel  on  right  turns  this  end  of  the 
Calkinses  lirins:  room  into  den  or  extra  bedroom. 


lly  TYIVTHIA  MCADOO 

Fran  and  Bill  Calkins'  Levittown  house 
is  designed  with  living  room  plus.  The 
plus  factor  is  the  sliding  wall  that  con- 
verts the  long  room  into  two.  This 
arrangement  is  an  especially  good  idea 
for  small  houses,  as  it  makes  possi- 
ble extra  space,  hospitality,  privacy.  It 
also  makes  extra  decorating  problems. 

While  the  Calkinses  wanted  to  tie  the 
large  area  together  as  a  whole,  they  also 
wanted  to  have  two  separate  units — one 
of  them  for  guest-room  use  when  the 
sliding  panel  was  closed.  For  the  con- 
tinuity effect  they  chose  wall-to-wall 
cotton  carpeting  in  a  soft  beige,  and 
drapery  fabric  that  exactly  matched  the 
green  of  the  walls.  Brilliant  red,  sunny 
yellow  and  pale  beige  ^vere  selected  as 
slip  coverings  and  upholstery  colors. 

The  smaller  end  of  the  room  has  been 
planned  to  make  possible  its  use  as  guest 
room,  as  a  den,  or  as  part  of  the  larger 
room.  Bill  designed  the  desk  for  the 
alcove  which  was  formerly  a  closet, 
thereby  keeping  the  room  as  big  as 
possible  yet  providing  more  work  space. 
The  small  sofa,  upholstered  in  a  tan, 
tweedy  material,  converts  easily  into  a 
comfortable  double  bed.  Bill  designed 


the  unusual  lamp  base;  he  and  Fran 
made  the  outsize  burlap  shade. 

Both  love  pine  furniture  and  had  a 
field  day  in  secondhand  and  antique 
shops.  What  they  found,  they  refinished 
or  painted.  What  they  couldn't  find.  Bill 
designed  and  had  made.  For  the  main 
room,  they  made  their  coffee  table  from 
an  old  picture  frame;  painted  and  dec- 
orated the  radio  cabinet;  designed  the 
pine  end  tables  and  pair  of  lamps.  They 
painted  the  fireplace  white,  filled  the 
bookcases  with  plants,  china,  bric-a-brac 
as  well  as  their  books. 

Their  major  project  was  the  stenciling 
of  the  draperies.  To  give  design  and  in- 
terest to  their  inexpensive  sailcloth, 
they  stenciled  it  in  a  large,  bold  flower 
pattern,  dogw^ood  and  daisies.  Being 
widely  spaced,  this  design  is  excellent 
when  a  great  deal  of  yardage  is  to  be 
done,  gives  a  custom-made  appearance 
to  plain  fabrics,  is  simple  enough  to  be 
used  with  many  different  decorating 
schemes,  may  be  ordered  in  a  Journal 
pattern.  No.  2600,  for  25  cents.  Address 
Reference  Library,  Ladies'  Home  Jour- 
nal, Philadelphia  5,  Pennsylvania.  Use 
coupon  on  Page  30. 


Beige  rug,  soft  green  walls  are  backdrop  for  the  flaming  red  of  the  sofa, 
bright  yellotv  chair;  show  off pine  furniture,  brass  accessories.  Dogwood  and 
daisy  stencils  on  draperies  are  effective,  unusual  and  can  be  done  by  you. 


f 


□  □ 


Wh&n  finooks  and  mud-pios  mix  it  up 


THE  BIG  MOVK 

(Continued  from  Page  154) 


li  I  f  fiiffiiTi  II  -  iiiiif IT  • '  •ill  r  Ill  iiiirfiiiiiini 

Thats  no  qkcus^  to  hit  tho,  r^oof . 


Dot  SnappGhs  woi^k  (ika  magia, 

7 


And  thay'nG  absolutdy  (aundn/proof  ! 


Snap!  it's  open 

Snap!  it's  closed 

It's  a  SNAP  with 


DOT 


Dot  Snappers  are  the  fasteners  that  speed  up  dressing,  are 
completely  hiundryproof.  Look  for  them  on  all  children's 
wear.  And  for  home  sewing,  ask  for  Dot  Snapper  Kits  with 
professional  attaching  tool,  at  notion  counters,  $1.  Refill  25(i. 


UNITED-CARR 


First  in  Fasteners 


Cambridge  42,  Mass. 


mairied,  and  I'd  say  he  certainly  wasn't  the 
guy  I  thought  I'd  married,  Bill  would  climb 
out  of  the  Murphy  bed  and  move  to  the  sofa. 
He  could  never  get  more  than  four  feet  away 
from  me  in  that  tiny  one-room  apartment, 
but  it  seemed  like  a  million  miles." 

Fran  Parish  Calkins  was  raised  in  Upper 
Montclair,  New  Jersey,  where  she  progressed 
happily  from  piano  and  cello  lessons  to  Miss 
Sawyer's  Dancing  Class  and  formal  Satur- 
day-night dances  at  the  Junior  Assembly. 
She  was  pretty,  outgoing  and  fun-loving,  and 
the  extent  of  her  social  life  was  circumscribed 
only  by  the  strictness  of  her  parents.  "Dad  al- 
ways insisted  that  I  bring  a  date  home  first, 
and  if  the  least  little  thing  was  wrong  with 
him — if  the  boy  had  a  limp  handshake  or 
seemed  too  jivy— dad  would  forbid  me  seeing 
him  again.  Time  after  time  I'd  have  to  turn 
down  invitations  to  parties  and  dances — 
that  just  about  broke  my  heart.  Of  course 
now  I'm  glad  they  were  so  particular." 

Fran  solved  the  situation  by  going  steady 
through  most  of  Montclair  High  with  one 
boy  her  parents  found  completely  accept- 
able. When  she  went  away  to  art  school, 
Averett  Junior  College  in  Virginia,  she 
widened  her  social  horizons,  but  it  wasn't  un- 
til she  got  her  first  job  in  New  York  City  as 
a  file  clerk  with  Western  Electric  that  Fran 
felt  she  was  catching  up  on  fun  she  had 
missed.  This  was  during  the  latter  part  of  the 
war  and  Fran  was  pursued  by  a  bevy  of 
servicemen  stationed  near  or  around  New 
York.  "Those  were  the  gay  days — I  was 
always  leaving  my  desk  to  meet  the  Air 
Corps  at  the  Astor  or  the  Navy  at  the  Bilt- 
more."  Several  nights  a  week  she  stayed  in 
town  for  dinner,  dancing  or  a  show,  catching 
a  late  train  of  the  "  Weary  Erie  "  back  to  her 
home  in  Montclair. 

During  this  time  Bill,  whom  Fran  had 
not  yet  met,  was  slogging  his  way  through 
the  Vosges  Mountain  campaign  in  North- 
ern France  as  a  lineman  with  the  411th  In- 
fantry. His  was  the  first  regiment  of  the 
Seventh  Army  to  enter  Germany  and  was 
also  the  regiment  chosen  to  meet  the  Fifth 
Army  in  Italy.  The  only  child  of  a  naval 
officer.  Bill  had  led  the  relaxed,  sociable, 
cosmopolitan  life  of  a  "Navy  junior"  from 
Haiti  to  Pearl  Harbor  before  leaving  his 
studies  at  Drexel  Institute  in  Philadelphia 
to  enter  the  Army  in  1943.  Bill  is  a  tall 
(6'1"),  quiet,  extremely  well-informed  person 
whose  tastes  run  to  reading  (J.  P.  Marquand 
is  his  idol),  good  music,  good  food  and  good 
conversation.  When  he  first  met  Fran  on  a 
blind  date  after  his  Army  discharge,  he  was 
first  impressed  by  her  extreme  attractive- 
ness and  secondly  by  her  popularity:  "Not 
only  the  young  crowd  liked  Fran — all  the 
older  folks  seemed  very  fond  of  her."  Bill 
phoned  for  a  date  again  twice  in  the  same 
week,  and  soon  found  that  on  all  other 
dates  he  was  missing  the  fun  he  had  with 
the  lively  blonde  from  Montclair. 

Fran,  then  twenty-three,  had  seriously 
considered  marrying  two  other  boys,  but  she 
felt  that  Bill  had  far  more  maturity  even 
though  he  was  a  year  younger  than  herself. 
She  was  impressed  with  his  quick  mind,  his 
ability  to  mingle  easily  with  all  kinds  of 
people,  and  her  family  loved  him  on  sight. 
Fran  grins,  telling  about  it,  and  affection- 
ately rumples  Bill's  hair.  "I  sure  didn't 
marry  you  for  your  money,  honey." 

During  their  year's  engagement,  Fran 
continued  to  work  in  New  York  while  Bill 
commuted  to  Montclair  to  see  her  every 
week  end.  He  had  re-entered  Drexel  in 
Philadelphia,  where  he  was  taking  a  degree 
in  business  administration.  They  decided  it 
would  be  less  expensive  to  get  married. 
("Ha!"  interpolates  Bill.)  He  still  had  six 
months  of  college  to  finish,  but  they  figured 
they  could  make  out  with  Fran's  salary  and 
his  GI  allowance  of  $90  a  month.  They  in- 
tended to  postpone  a  family  for  several  years. 

Wearing  ivory  slipper  satin  with  heirloom 
rose-point  lace,  surrounded  by  six  attend- 
ants, Fran  was  married  at  a  candlelight 
evening  service  at  St.  Paul's  Episcopal 


Church  in  Upper  Montclair.  A  supper  n 
tion  for  150  friends  followed.  Fran  anc  i 
honeymooned  for  i  week  at  Sky  top  iii,, 
Pocono  Mountains,  and  as  long  as  Frar^^ 
no  housekeeping  responsibilities,  the  r. 
riage  was  idyllic.  "  Mother  had  tried  and  \,\ 
to  teach  me  to  cook,  but  I  simply  wii'i 
interested.  All  I  was  thinking  about  wa«n 
fun  of  marrying  Bill." 

Fran  was  thrilled  with  the  doll-size  a  t, 
ment  Bill  had  found  for  them  in  West  F  ii. 
delphia,  with  Murphy  bed  and  Purjjli 
kitchen.  She  spent  the  first  evening  in  jir^^ 
new  home  putting  away  wedding  preset  - 
her  sterling  silver,  fine  crystal,  linens  r, 
china.  The  next  morning  the  brideg:  t 
arose  to  his  wife's  first  attempt  at  break  i 
Fran  found  that  the  only  cooking  ut  ii 
she  had  was  a  glass  baking  dish.  She  era  r 
eggs  into  it,  put  it  into  the  oven,  and  !i, 
time  later  was  dismayed  to  find  the  "b  ri 
eggs"  hard  and  slippery  as  wet  rubber. 

Bill  was  taken  aback,  but,  still  hop  i 
Shortly  after  that  he  had  a  birthday  d 
Fran  spent  hours  preparing  her  first  ( i. 
When  it  came  out  of  the  oven  it  simplj  || 
apart.  Bill  suggested  kindly  that  they  ;  r 
the  icing  over  it  and  eat  it  with  a  sp  i, 
Fran  cried.  She  couldn't  believe  that  coovg  < 
could  be  so  difficult.  There  was  the  nightie  ■■ 
of  their  wedding  ushers  came  to  dir 
"The  roast  of  beef  was  tough  and  I  die 
mashed  potatoes  in  the  electric  mixer  ai(J 
seen  my  mother  do,  but  then  I  didn't  kjvi 
how  to  heat  them  up  again,  so  they  '  ei 
hard  and  stone-cold.  The  Limas  got  fini;  j 
too  soon  and  were  both  watery  and  col(^t  ■ 
was  a  nightmare  and  the  guest  never  retUhS: 
for  another  meal." 

As  Fran  and  Bill  look  back  on  their  < 
culties  now,  they  both  feel  that  Bill,  ar^. 
perienced  cook,  should  have  taken  over  ji 
kitchen  department.  As  it  was,  Fran  w  \ 
hurry  home  from  her  job  in  the  busi 
office  of  a  telephone  company  ("All  I  h  I 
was  customers'  complaints  all  day  Ion; 
terrific  strain  on  anybody's  patience  ")  to 
Bill  stretched  out  in  an  easy  chair  read 
without  so  much  as  a  potato  boiling.  "  I 
pose  it  was  because  he  was  an  only  cl 
whose  mother  was  a  wonderful  cook,  am 
was  used  to  being  waited  on,  "says  Fran  i 

Once  she  spent  an  hour  cracking  nuts 
handkerchief  to  make  Bill  a  fancy  des; 
which,  when  it  was  all  ready,  he  refuse^ 
touch.  She  soon  learned  that  before  tryin 
ambitious  dish,  it  was  best  to  ask  Bill  fir 
he  would  like  it.  "Bill  hates  surprises." 

Bill  says,  "  Instead  of  fussing  for  h( 
over  dessert,  I  couldn't  see  why  she  dii  i 
buy  a  pint  of  ice  cream  which  was  sure  tt  i 
good."  1 

"  I  was  trying  to  save  money,"  protj 
Fran,  who  was  earning  $41  a  week  at, 
phone  company.  "We  couldn't  afford- 
kind  of  things  you  liked— thick  steaks,  cht 
roasts  of  beef."  So  she  tried  to  econon 
with  spicy  casseroles,  high  consumers 
time  and  energy.  Under  the  pressures  << 
job  which  demanded  constant  tact,  tryin], 
keep  up  the  apartment,  please  her  husbg 
and  have  a  full  social  life — "We  went  i 
practically  every  night  in  the  week, 
Fran's  normally  sweet  and  cheerful  disp, 
tion  soured.  Then,  to  her  dismay,  five  moi^ 
after  the  marriage,  she  became  pregnant 

Although  it  was  a  shock  to  both  of  tlj 
at  the  time,  they  look  back  on  this  as  > 
best  possible  thing  that  could  have  happei 
to  their  marriage.  The  day  the  doctor  c 
firmed  Fran's  suspicions,  Bill  (by  then  gr, 
uated  from  college)  landed  a  promising 
as  a  trainee  with  the  Girard  Trust-C\ 
Exchange  Bank  in  Philadelphia  at  $21!. 
month.  Fran  quit  work  a  few  months  la 
and  finally  had  the  leisure  to  learn  housewi 
and  cooking.  She  became  elated  at  the  bab, 
coming — "Lee  drew  us  together,  made 
think  outside  of  ourselves." 

Just  before  she  was  bom,  they  moved  ii 
a  four-and-a-half-room  apartment  in  Cai 
den.  New  Jersey,  after  weeks  of  hunti 
"The  rent  was  $71  a  month,  plus  heat  a 


il,  s,  and  s(X)n  wi-iU  up  to  $77."  recalls 
il)!  As  I  was  llicii  caniiriK  only  a 
,  ,,  it  was  far  more  tliaii  we  could  afford, 
I  ( (Hildn'l  (ind  aiiytiiiuK  else." 
I  I  III  a  ioun  talk  with  his  father,  a  Navy 
iiider  now  stationed  in  Hnjoklyn,  who 
,i  ((Ted  to  Kive  the  younj;  Calkinses 
1  u.  i  k  after  Lee's  birth.  '"I'iiis  went  on 
r  VI  ar,  then  we  managed  to  whittle  il 
,(  I  lie  second  year  as  Hill  ^^ol  raises," 
I  II,  I'Yan.  "We  hated  to  do  il,  but  a 
many  of  our  friends  were  in  the  same 


loii  years  after  Lee  was  born,  the  Cal- 
^  had  another  dauKhter,  Anne,  now  one. 
s  a  |)relty,  black-haired  child,  preco- 
and  jjixyish.  Although  siie  looks  fragile. 
)acks  a  wicked  puncii,  accotdinjj  to 
K  who  is  constantly  breaking'  up  scraps 
■jcn  her  and  the  boys  in  the  neiKhtx)r- 
.  Anne  is  towiieaded.  and  blue-eyed  like 
nother— sweet,  cheerful  and  ^;enerally 
mplaininK— "My  little  puddin',"  Fran 
luiK^inK  her. 

ter  she  was  born,  their  second-floor 
Inient  became  harder  and  harder  on 
's  back.  She  also  felt  lhal  the  nei^^hbor- 

iiad  a  lot  lo 
vith  Lee's  a^- 
;ive  ways. 
x)Ut  Ihe  end  of 
,  the  Calkinses 
drove  oul  with 
end  lo  see  the 
)le  Levitlown 
I'S.  For  $10,000 

price  is  now 
iOO)  the  Levitt 
lers  offered  a 
;  e  -  b  e  d  r  o  o  ni 
:  with  such  lux- 
features  as  a 
Iburninglhree- 

lireplace,  alu- 
um  window 
as.Thermopane 
ire  windows, 
mlly  healed 
!,  and  a  fully 
Dped  electric 
en,  including 
ilomatic  wash- 
lachine.  All  re- 
:osls  are  guar- 
:d  by  the  Lev- 
ir  one  year  (for 
h  Fran  was 
ful  when  the 
er's  gears  were 

)ed).  Closet  space  is  ample,  and  for  ex- 
torage  each  home  has  a  small  utility 

back  of  the  open  carport, 
rrying  charges  amount  to  $61.50  a 
h,  which  the  Calkinses  fell  they  could 
ige.  Bill,  now  a  personal-loan  super- 
,  earns  $4446  a  year,  as  well  as  an  an- 

bonus.  The  stumbling  block  was  the 
I  payment  of  $500.  Fran  and  Bill  man- 

lo  pay  $100  in  January  to  reserve  a 
To  cinch  the  deal,  another  $400  was 
n  April. 

an  and  Bill  sat  down  with  pencil  and 
:  and  struggled.  They  still  had  their 

shares,  worth  $150.  They  figured  that 
y  could  save  $40  a  month  from  January 
)ril,  they  would  have  a  total  of  $270  and 

borrow  the  rest  of  the  down  payment 
Bill's  parents. 

was  hard  to  see  how  they  could  save 
I  month  from  Bill's  take-home  pay  of 
a  month.  The  Camden  apartment  took 
a  month.  Food  consumed  a  minimum 
00.  Saving  $40  a  month  would  leave 
$68  for  everything  else — insurance  pay- 
s,  doctor's  bills,  commuting  expenses, 
:leaning,  clothing,  and  so  forth.  After 
second  child  was  born  and  they  were 
nger  receiving  any  financial  help  from 
family,  the  Calkinses  had  given  up 
ically  all  clothing  purchases  except  for 
hildren,  and  the  grandparents  supply 
of  those.  Fran,  for  instance,  has  not 
It  a  dress  in  four  years  and  wears  a 
i-year-old  winter  coat.  Bill,  who  can't 
i  to  appear  at  his  desk  at  the  bank 
frayed  cuffs  or  shiny  pants,  buys  about 
uit  a  year  when  some  unexpected  wind- 


Next  Month 

are  the  Daniel  Doones 
of  yesteryear  ? 

SI  ILL  here.  llaroM  Youn^ 
wears  no  liiu-kskiii.t,  hiil  a  plai<l 
shirt;  scouls  no  Indian  Icrrilory. 
hut  was  at  the  HallU-of  tin-  Hul{;e; 
built  no  cabin,  liul  look  down  a 
§600  farniliousc  lor  luniltcr  and 
nails  and  built  an  eif;lil -room  home 
for  his  wife  and  two  (lan(-in<; 
daughters. 

Ile  .s  Daniel  Hoone's  great-great- 
grea  I -grandson.  You'll  meet  him  on 
Boone  IJoulevard,  Kansas  (^ity, 
Missouri,  when  you  read 


fall  coniCH  his  way.  OtherwiHc,  lliey  bank 
licavily  on  clothing  Kifls  at  birlhdayn  and 
Christmas.  They  cui  oul  what  liill  calls 
"all  g(K)d  catiriK."  Whereas  he  formerly 
loathed  halnbur^^er,  he  boKan  to  eal  il  un- 
complainingly three  mollis  a  week,  and  ukkh 
or  cheese  on  Saturday  niK'ht  ho  they  could 
have  a  small  roast  {\x>rk  or  |»t  roast)  on 
Sunday.  Hill  gave  up  browsing  in  secoiulhaiid 
lxK)kslores  tlxxiks  Ix-iiik  one  of  Ins  m.-ijor 
l)assion8).  They  gave  up  buying  all  phono- 
graph records.  They  gave  up  vacations. 
They  slopped  going  lo  the  dentist  regularly. 
What  hurt  most,  perhaps,  as  they  are  l)otli 
very  sociable,  was  giving  up  all  entertaining 
and  nights  out.  During  the  three  nionlhs 
they  were  saving  for  Ihe  house,  they  even 
gave  up  their  movie  a  monlh.  Hill  used  lo 
bring  home  one  .W-cenl  Italian  sandwich  to 
share  with  Fran  for  Saturday  lunch  he 
scratched  this. 

However,  living  costs  ke|)l  rising  last 
year  and  in  spite  of  their  most  strenuous 
efforts  Ihey  still  could  not  save  .$40  a  month 
Then  "oul  of  the  blue,"  relates  Fran  in 
awestruck  tones,  a  ciieck  for  .$80  arrived  in 
the  mail  as  an  income-tax  refund  for  Aniu  's 
birlh.  Then  Hill,  who  is  in  the  Naval 
Reserve,  went  <jn 
Iwo-week  training 
duly.  The  bank  for 
the  first  time  de- 
cided to  pay  Naval 
Reservists  full  sal- 
ary while  on  leave, 
so  Bill  cleared  $!.'")() 
on  the  deal.  In  April 
the  proud  cou|)le 
cashed  in  their  bank 
shares,  paid  $400. 
and  the  iiouse  was 
theirs. 

Filled  with  ela- 
tion, they  went  oul 
to  admire  their  first 
home."  Egad, "cried 
Bill  suddenly,  "it's 
in  the  slicks. "  F"or 
the  first  time  he 
realized  that  the 
nearest 


LI  (:w\  IN  I-: 

By  G.  M.  White 
How  Young  Amkkica  Lives 

in  the  April  JoUKNAL 


supermar- 
ket was  five  miles 
away,  with  no  bus 
service.  He  would 
have  lo  commute  lo 
Philadelphia  from 
Bristol,  also  five 
miles  away.  They 
would  have  to  have 
a  car. 

"This  was  the  final  straw,"  said  Bill.  "We 
almost  gave  up  Even  if  we  could  afford  an 
old  jalopy,  I  didn't  see  how  we  could  possibly 
keep  il  in  repairs  and  full  of  gas  and  oil." 

Anolher  blow  was  the  news  that  they 
would  have  lo  pay  $119  real-estate  tax  and 
fire  insurance  before  moving  in  September. 
Bill  again  got  oul  his  pencil  and  paper.  They 
would  have  moving  expenses.  They  would 
have  to  break  their  apartment  lease,  a  $50 
expense.  They  needed  draperies  and  traverse 
rods  for  the  new  house— even  at  the  whole- 
sale prices  Bill  could  get  through  certain 
connections  this  came  to  $80.  The  best  buy  in 
a  used  car  he  could  find  was  $125  for  a 
seventeen-year-old  Oldsmobile.  When  he 
added  it  all  up,  it  came  lo  $550. 

This  was  too  much  to  ask  from  his  parents; 
he  would  have  to  ask  the  bank.  The  monthly 
payments  to  repay  the  loan  made  Bill  wince — 
$34  a  month.  He  fully  realized  the  agony 
they  had  gone  through  trying  to  save  $40  a 
month,  and  how  often  they  had  failed.  But 
after  he  got  the  bank  loan,  another  provi- 
dential miracle  occurred.  He  was  assigned 
to  a  regular  unit  of  the  Naval  Reserve,  which 
means  that  he  will  soon  receive  $10  a  week 
extra  income. 

Of  the  two  of  them,  Fran  worries  far 
more  about  money  than  her  husband.  "She's 
a  string  and  paper-bag  saver,  like  her  New 
England  mother,"  says  Bill.  Fran  hates  living 
to  the  hilt  of  their  income.  "Once  when  Bill 
went  to  buy  two  ninety-cent  ties  as  gifts,  and 
bought  another  for  himself,  I  was  furious," 
says  Fran.  "  I  can't  feel  comfortable  without 
(Continued  on  Page  167) 


TO  SAVE  MONEY.. CLOTHES. .HANDS! 


Why  wa.ste  fjood  money  on  liif^h- 
priceH,  "miracle"  washday  j)r(Mliic  t.s 
when  Kki.s-N.vptiia  S<)a|> — ai  half 
the  coat — will  do  an  even  heller  job 
for  you? 

Ueiiieriiber!  Fels-Naptiia  — and 
only  Fels-Naptha — gives  you  the 
benefit  of  two  great  cleaners  working 
togellier  —  mild,  golden   soap  and 


gentle,  (lirt-loosi-niiig  naptlia.  What 
other  soap — whal  detergent — conid 
possil)ly  gel  all  of  your  clothes,  from 
hankies  lo  worksiiirts,  so  thoroughly 
and  .so  .safely  clean? 

Yes,  it's  jusl  plain  lior.se  sen.se  to 
save  your  money,  your  clothes,  your 
hands  by  using  llie  (lolden  I5ar  with 
the  clean  naplha  odor. 


CUTS  YOUR  "SOAP"  COSTS  IN  HALF! 


An  honest  soap  —  honestly  priced!  Also  available  in  Golden  Chips, 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


or 


Just  take 

K-  a  can  of  crushed  Pineapple /or... 
pineapple  tidbits  or  chunks 
sliced  Pineapple^  and  folloo)  your 

y/  favorite  upside -docon 
^  cake  method 


Pineapple  Growers  Association 
San  Francisco 


M  I 


I     •*  I 


I  0  7 


(CoiiliiiiiC'l  from  I'linc  loij 
iavin^!s."  Wlu'ii  she  was  Icn,  her  fa- 
inn  foldi'd  (iLirinn  I  he  depression  and 
suddenly  thrown  out  of  work.  "  II  was 
)liier's  ill  tie  iiesl  euK  that  pulled  us 
h." 

len  we  were  lirst  niarrii'd,  l-'ran  was 
liidinn  live-dollar  bills  atxuit  the 
lent.  hiiauine    a  banker's  wife!"  says 

ivas  such  a  wonderful  feelinu  lo  lind 
I''ran  reminds  hiin.  "  Ki'inembi  r 
jv  were  paekinu  in  Caindi'ii  and  I  un- 
1  ten  dollars  in  a  i)lant  stand?" 
as  fortunate  that  in  spile  of  Fran's 
alxnit  spendiiu;  money,  they  did  ac- 
.)ine  substantial  furniUire  in  the  lirsl 
llieir  marriage  mainly  wilii  a  $r)(}{) 
^;  check.  And  a  case  of  eyestrain  li'd 
i)a  profitable  hobby.  When  the  doctor 
'  him  to  read  at  nij^lU  (Bill  thinks 
;  of  reading  three  or  four  hooks  a 
le  was  frantic  for  somelhinK  to  do.  He 
elinishmii  old  i)ine  pieces  picked  up  in 
land  shoi)s.  They  look  wonderful  re- 
;  the  iireliKht  in  Iheir  handsome  new 
•ooin  with  its  touches  of  copper  and 
hriKhlly  filled  bookcases  and  warm 
f  yellow,  coral  and  t;reen. 


Once  a  year  the  Cail  inseh  Ioik*  I  all  ilieir 
money  problems  and  rc;.llv  splm  .',  IMI  ..,  i>, 
an  annual  Ixnius  > 
cent  of  It  on  LI  i 
the  holiday,  Fran  i-,  luii>i)il>  pl.inmnK  Unii 
one  h\n.  party  (jf  liie  year,  lo  which  iliey  in- 
vite as  many  as  forly  friendh  '  The  kU»w 
lasts  for  another  twelve  monlliH,"  HHiiles 
I'Van. 

Fran  still  dmiiken  t<«kin«  and  Ihe 
"drudgery"  of  housework  whicii  makcH  her 
liack  ache,  but  liill  nays  siie  now  does  \m>1\\ 
well,  lie  ofiiii  volunteers  to  help  with  llie 
children,  to  dry  dishes  or  make  lu'ds.  in  spile 
of  his  daily  three-hour  commulinu  trek  to 
and  from  Philadelphia. 

I  he  banker  sits  slum|M'<l  in  a  biK  chair  in 
the  living;  r(K)m,  his  eyes  roving  from  the 
mellow  pine  pieces  which  re(|uiri'fl  so  many 
hours  and  hours  of  sandinu,  lo  the  kimps  he 
made  from  inalerials  picked  up  secondhand, 
to  the  walls  he  painted.  I  le  regards  lliouuhl- 
fully  Ihe  toes  of  his  ancient  moccasins  winch 
have  km^  ano  kisl  iheir  color.  He  pulls  down 
his  ranged  sjKjrls  shirt  over  Ins  riiini)led 
slacks.  Then  he  springs  oul  of  the  chair  with 
a  kx)k  of  pleased  anlici|)alion  and  picks  up 
Ihe  trowel.  Out  into  the  uray  winter  day  he 
strides  lo  plant  more  spring  daffodils. 


Ho>v  ihv  Calkiiis<>s  SpcMul  Tlirir  M<>nr> 
Earli  Alonlh 


 S  ()I..10 

Ual   12.00 

I'olUM'lioii   o-OO 

iKiimc  lav.  .Ho<-iai  so<  iiiily. 

I>liil:i<l<  l|>liia            lax  .  10.00 

;iiaiil>   -■'>•'> 

iisiiratiro   II  .<>0 

lolical  <  ai<'  (iiii'lii<liii;:  li<»s- 

l>ilali/al  ion  iiisiiraiio«-)  .  12.00 

■<,,.<l   115.00 

tank  loan    .M.OO 


Clolli.s  

i  '.iir  ii|>kr<-|>  

(loniniiiliniz  

Klc<-|ri<il>   

Nc« s|(a|M'is  aiiil  niaua/.iniv 

<;iii,s  


.'t.OO 

;{o.<Hi 
:to.<Hi 

ll.OO 
(i.OO 
1.00 


I'olal  .S.'!7(>.7.'> 


iMcinllil>  ini  oMK-:  I)l..'>7 

;\<>(<-:  Itill  will  noon  reri-irf  fill  i 
from  I hr  iSai'til  lifscrrv. 


M\  Tin  K  SKI.F 

(Continued  from  I'anc  55) 


me,  for  example,  "Here  is  a  list  of 
at  a  prirate  dinner.  Among  the  guests 
elired  general  of  the  Belgian  army,  a 
,  viscount,  a  judge  of  the  English  Su- 
Court,  a  naval  attache  to  the  Belgian 
sador.  and  so  on."  I  was  lo  class  these 
It  people  according  to  their  rank  and 
ihe  seating  arrangement  accordingly, 
e  of  these  duties  were  amusing.  I 
1  among  other  things  that  no  English 
;  ever  presents  her  guests  with  finger 
when  a  member  of  the  British  royal 
is  present ;  the  finger  bowl  may  then 
lented  to  him  alone, 
countess  told  me  that  when  the  royal 
of  Stuart  was  in  exile  and  the  House 
lover  was  reigning  over  England,  nu- 
5  Stuart  followers,  when  the  ot!icial 
of  "God  Save  the  King"  was  pro- 
id.  held  their  wineglasses  over  the 
bowls.  This  meant  "God  save  the 
)ver  the  water,  which  was  in  point  of 
profession  of  fealty  toward  the  Stuarts 
)t  toward  the  ruling  monarchs.  From 
n,  to  the  present  day,  no  member  of  the 
1  royal  family  has  ever  seen  a  finger 
in  his  table,  except  his  own. 
des  all  these  things,  I  had  further  to 
irize  myself  with  all  the  orders  and 
itions  of  the  whole  world,  the  color  of 
ibbons  and  how  to  distinguish  the  dif- 
little  rosettes  which  are  worn  in  the 
ihole  and  which,  while  they  sometimes 
srely  the  insignia  of  some  minor  club, 
inies  also  denote  an  important  order, 
ides  Mme.  Martellini,  I  had  several 
teachers  who  visited  me  each  day  at 
nbassy.  Mme.  Janine,  of  the  French 
Jte  of  Rome,  taught  me  conversational 
h.  I  had  already  learned  the  elements 
slanguage  at  school, 
husband,  the  King,  and  I  have  a  great 
ection  for  the  French  language.  During 


the  official  ceremonies  and  the  thousand  little 
matters  of  daily  life,  we  speak  Arabic;  but  in 
lighter  and  gayer  conversations,  we  usually 
speak  French. 

My  husband  often  says,  "  Italian  should  be 
used  only  for  songs.  Intellectual  and  philo- 
sophic talks  should  be  held  only  in  Cierman. 
English  should  always  be  used  when  one 
wants  lo  avoid  betraying  one's  secret 
thoughts,  but  French  is  for  lovers,  children, 
and  for  play." 

Besides  that,  I  had  a  very  pleasant  Eng- 
lish teacher  from  the  British  School  of  Rome. 
My  music  teacher  w'as  Signora  Goeche,  one 
of  the  most  famous  and  feted  concert  solo- 
ists in  Italy.  When  I  was  with  her,  I  had  the 
feeling  that  she  was  leading  me  by  the  hand 
into  an  enchanted  land.  That  is  why  music 
has  become  of  such  deep  significance  to  me. 
Today  it  often  happens  that  I  remain  seated 
a  whole  afternoon  playing  my  phonograph 
records;  then  I  feel  happy  and  free.  It  is  to 
her  that  I  owe  this. 

Blond  Mme.  Nadamlinsky  came  every 
day,  too,  to  teach  me  self-discipline  and  phys- 
ical culture.  Countess  Saffy,  whose  husband 
was  an  Italian  diplomat  in  Egypt,  also  came 
fairly  often  to  teach  me  Court  etiquette.  And 
so,  each  day  for  almost  a  year,  I  had  to  go 
through  my  daily  hours  of  study.  I  was  free 
only  on  Sundays,  and  even  then  I  was  taken 
to  little  social  gatherings  so  that  I  should 
grow  familiar  with  the  customs  and  manners 
I  observed. 

At  times  I  was  overcome  by  a  great  wave 
of  homesickness.  Then  I  would  sit  down  at 
my  desk  and  write  long  letters  to  the  King. 
Everything  seemed  much  easier  as  soon  as  I 
had  written  to  him  and  given  him  a  share  in 
my  troubles.  However  many  letters  I  might 
receive,  his  were  always  the  first  I  opened. 

I  rernember  one  letter  in  which  he  wrote, 
"A  throne  is  a  very,  very  lonely  place.  The 


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whole  day,  from  early  morning  until  late  at 
night,  I  am  surrounded  by  people  who  expect 
something  from  me.  Some  do  not  hesitate  to 
use  the  most  clever  strategy  to  obtain  what 
they  desire.  1  rarely  have  a  moment  to  my- 
self, and  yet  I  am  always  alone.  Only  the 
thought  of  you,  my  little  friend,  and  the 
knowledge  that  you  will  soon  share  this  bur- 
den with  me,  comforts  me  today,  while  at 
the  same  time  it  disturbs  me." 

One  day  1  had  a  marvelous  surprise.  We 
left  for  Switzerland  together  with  the  Egyp- 
tian ambassador,  his  wife,  and  my  Uncle 
Mustapha.  We  stopped  at  the  Hotel  Des 
Bergues.  At  the  same  time  Farouk  was  trav- 
eling in  Brittany.  I  had  read  of  his  trip  in  the 
newspapers.  We  were  nearer  to  each  other 
than  we  had  been  for  many,  many  months. 
That  thought  thrilled  me  and  filled  me  with 
excitement. 

It  was  a  gray,  unfriendly  day  when  sud- 
denly someone  knocked  at  my  door.  A  hotel 
employee  handed  me  a  huge  bouquet  of  pink 
gladioli.  It  was  from  Farouk.  He  had  not 
been  able  to  come  himself,  because  of  an  im- 
portant conference,  but  he  had  sent  a  mes- 
senger with  flowers  which  he  himself  had 
chosen,  and  with  the  flowers  a  little  shining 
gift:  a  brooch  all  set 
with  precious  stones. 

The  whole  evening  I 
could  do  nothing  but 
look  at  his  gift.  And  the 
vaseful  of  gladioli 
seemed  a  sign  of  his 
nearness;  a  symbol  of 
his  thoughts  which  were 
always  about  me. 


Gift  Suggestion 

lti§  Klaine  V.  Kmtins 


I  Stood  at  the  rail  of 
the  American  steamer 
Excalibur  and  watched 
the  vast  Bay  of  Naples 
and  the  snow-tipped 
peak  of  Vesuvius  di- 
minish until  they  faded 
into  the  gray  sky  line. 

We  passed  within 
sight  of  the  Island  of 
Capri,  and  1  looked  at 
it  reminiscently 
through  field  glasses. 
During  my  stay  in  Italy 
1  had  visited  Capri 
briefly.  1  could  not  then 
know  that  this  little 
rocky  island  with  its 
two  humps  would  soon 
play  so  important  a 
part  in  my  destiny. 

I  was  returning  to  Egypt,  after  seven 
months  in  Rome.  My  days  of  playing  at  be- 
ing the  "niece  of  the  ambassador"  were  now 
ended.  I  had  worked  hard,  so  that  my  school 
days  seemed  ridiculous  in  comparison.  In 
seven  months  of  daily  tutoring  I  had  learned 
more  French  than  1  believed  possible.  I  was 
able  to  speak  it  fluently  now,  and  read  it  with 
pleasure.  I  had  absorbed  much  about  music 
and  of  general  knowledge,  and  as  I  joined  in 
the  small  social  occasions  on  the  S.S.  Ex- 
calibur—the  dinner  parties  at  the  captain's 
table,  the  ship's  concerts  and  occasional 
dances— I  found  myself  relishing  a  new  sen- 
sation :  that  of  being  completely  at  ease. 

M  KNEW  that  whatever  private  reports  had 
gone  to  King  Farouk  about  my  progress, 
they  could  not  but  please  him.  I  knew  from 
his  letters  to  me  that  he  was  happy  about 
my  studies.  He  had  expected  it  to  take  me  at 
least  a  year  to  reach  the  standard  that  he  had 
set  for  me  before  I  was  ready  to  assume  the 
responsibilities  of  becoming  Queen  of  Egypt. 
And  I  had  done  it  in  just  seven  months.  I  was 
happy  at  the  thought  of  going  home  to 
Egypt,  and  seeing  him  again.  But  most  of  all 
I  was  aware  of  a  sensation  of  achievement. 

It  was  all  the  more  painful  to  me,  after 
such  a  happy  journey,  to  discover  that  in  my 
absence  little  Zachi  Hashem  had  been  assert- 
ing that  he  was  utterly  heartbroken  that  the 
King  had  chosen  me. 

"I  will  marry  no  other  girl!"  he  had  told 
the  newspapers.  (He  did  though,  of  course.) 

But  it  worried  me  that  perhaps  Farouk 
would  decide,  after  all,  not  to  marry  me. 
There  were  so  many  others  he  could  have 


Give  a  mountain  to  a  child 
Who  was  nourished  on  a  plain. 
Let  him  drink  the  craggy,  wild 
Bigness  of  it  that  has  lain 
Only  in  a  word  before. 
Let  him  taste  its  evergreen 
Beauty,  staring,  and  explore 
Far  timber  line,  who  has  not  seen 
Anything  so  bare,  above  it. 
Even  for  one  hour,  give 
A  child  a  mountain,  let  him  love  it 
And  as  long  as  he  will  live 
Memory  of  it  will  remain 
To  enrich  him  on  his  plain. 


March,  19 

chosen.  All  my  hopes  and  dreams,  all  my 
hard  work  for  seven  months,  seemed  in  dan-1 
ger  of  being  swept  away  because  of  the  quar- 
rels and  arguments  of  politicians. 

I  need  not  have  worried.  Farouk  was  wait- 
ing for  me  with  my  mother  at  Alexandria. 
He  took  both  my  hands  in  his,  and  looked 
down  at  me  very  searchingly  and  earnestly. 

"You  have  changed,  cherie,"  he  said  at 
last.  "You  walk  difi'erently  and  carry  your-< 
little  head  more  proudly.  Have  you  changed  { 
in  your  feeling  for  me  ?  " 

He  seemed  so  anxious  to  be  reassured  th; 
I  found  it  impossible  to  think  of  him  as  beini 
so  much  higher  in  the  social  scale  than  I  w; 
"I  think.  Your  Majesty,"  I  replied, 
have  changed  in  one  important  point." 

I  watched  him  knit  his  brows.  "Wl 
point?"  he  asked. 

"I  think,"  I  said,  "that  I  now  have  cour- 
age to  call  you  'cheri.'"  He  threw  back  his 
head  and  burst  out  laughing,  then  he  hugged 
me  and  winked  at  my  Uncle  Mustapha  and 
my  mother.  "What  do  you  know!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "We  send  her  away  a  green  little 
sapling,  and  she  returns  to  us  in  the  full 
bloom  of  womanhood— and  impudence!" 

On  Farouk 's  next 
birthday,  February  11, 
1951,  the  Royal  Cab 
inet  announced  our  be 
trothal.  I  was  in 
eighteenth  year. 

Perhaps  I  should  exi 
plain  that  an  Islamic 
betrothal  is  not  likei 
your  Christian  mar- 
riages. It  is  very  dif-' 
ferent.  Usually  a  priest : 
and  his  assistant  go  to, 
the  house  of  the  bride-" 
to-be.   The  priest's 
assistant    carries  the 
marriage  register.  The. 
bride  is  never  in  the 
room  where  the  con- 
tract of  marriage  is  an- 
nounced. She  waits  in- 
another  part  of  the 
house  while  the  husband 
and  her  father— or  the 
chief  male  representa;! 
five  of  the  householdi 
to  which  she  belongs— j; 
sign  the  contract  andj 
shake  hands.  ^ 
The  husband  takes4i 
the  marriage  oath  in 
these  words:  "I  accept 
her  from  you  as  my  bride  and  receive  her 
into  my  household,  and  I  promise  to  protect 
her,  to  which  you  and  all  who  are  here  aa 
sembled  shall  be  my  witnesses." 

The  bride  is  not  required  to  take  any  oath, 
nor  does  she  make  any  promise.  Her  mother 
gives  her  consent  to  the  marriage  by  signing 
the  contract,  in  the  presence  of  two  chief 
witnesses  appointed  by  the  bridegroom,  as 
was  done  in  my  case.  Then  the  marriage 
bond  is  signed  on  her  behalf  by  her  father  or 
chief  male  relative  (as  in  my  case,  for  my 
dear  father  had  died  just  before  I  left  Egypt 
for  Rome).  The  husband  promises  only  to 
protect  her,  and  there  is  nothing  in  our  laws 
to  prevent  him  from  having  three  otheri 
wives  and  as  many  girl  friends  as  he  wishes, 
so  long  as  he  does  not  make  any  of  his  wives 
unhappy.  This  must  be  quite  a  problem  for  a 
husband,  and  I  am  rather  relieved  that  my 
own  husband  has  never  thought  fit  to  marry 
more  than  one  wife  at  a  time ! 

After  the  marriage  contract  is  signed,  the 
members  of  the  household  distribute  gifts  of 
sweets,  sirup,  coffee  and  cakes  to  the  guests, 
servants,  neighbors  and  all  the  poor  of  the 
district,  as  their  means  permit.  The  priest  is 
given  a  shawl  or  some  similar  gift,  and  each 
guest  receives  a  box  of  sweets.  In  rich  house- 
holds the  box  is  of  pure  gold,  but  it  can  also, 
be  of  silver,  copper,  wood  or  even  cardboard.; 

Afterward  there  is  a  buffet  reception.  Ate 
this  the  male  and  female  guests  meet  andf 
mingle  for  the  first  time,  and  this  is  often  tha 
first  time  that  the  bridegroom's  friends  see; 
the  bride,  and  sometimes— indeed,  quite 
often  in  the  more  religious  households  of 
Egypt— it  is  the  first  time  that  the  bride  is 


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IHTinitlid  lo  sjuak  dircclly  to  iier  liusbaiid, 
or  lo  touch  him.  I  lo  soiiictiiiu-H  puts  a  riiiK  on 
litT  liiiKiT,  1)111  more  usually  lie  waits  until 
I  lit- actual  wcddinKtlay. 

Tlu'  widdinn  day  may  l)e  llii-  very  cvemiiK 
of  thf  l)ctrothal.  or  months  afliTward.  It 
di|>cnds  u|K)n  the  social  standinK  of  tin- 
bridcKHM)!!).  A  iXKir  iH-asjinl  diniands  IiIh 
In  ide  at  once,  lo  work  for  liim  and  c(K)k  and 
look  after  iiis  household,  in  the  richer  fami- 
lies, the  Ki'HHn  shows  his  indeiH-ndence  by 
(iiliheiately  waitiiiK  lor  many  days  Ix-fore 
le  sends  for  his  bride  to  Ik'  brou^'.hl  lo  his 
bouse.  Not  until  this  is  done  are  the  pair  ac- 
tually married. 

I  hope  it  is  now  clear  how  much  rubl)ish 
has  been  written  alioul  myself  and  ZjicIii 
Ilashem,  and  the  silly  stories  alxnil  my 
"staying  in  iny  riMun  and  refusing  lo  come 
down  for  the  wi'ddiiiK  ceremony." 

before  the  betrothal.  Faroiik  told  me, 
",As  you  know,  my  dear,  I  could  make  many 
conditions,  and  extract  many  promises  from 
you." 

I  ncKlded,  for  I  knew  this  lo  be  true, 
"iiut  1  siiall  ask  you  to  promise  me  only 

one  tiling,"  he  said  ([uietly.  "I  shall  ask  you 
t(i  he  obedient  lo  me,  as  you  would  have  been 
lo  your  fatiier.  1  am  older  than  you  are, 
clirrie.  and  iiave  had  more  cxiierience  in  life. 
Promise  loobey  me,  and  in  return  I  ^ive  you 
my  promise  that  I  siiall  never  ask  you  lo  do 
anythinj;  siiameful,  or  against  our  reliuion; 
nor  sliall  I  ask  of  you  anylhiiiK  thai  I  do  not 
honeslly  feel  lo  be  in  your  own  best  interest . " 

IIf  course  I  uladly  ),'ave  him  my  promise, 
and  liave  been  \mni(\  lo  keeiD  il,  for  he  is  my 
husband  IhouKh  he  may  no  longer  be  Kin^. 

I I  was  three  months  later,  on  Ihe  sixth  of 
May,  lhal  Ihe  second  part  of  Ihe  ceremonial 
followed.  On  this  day  the  Kin^.  my  husband, 
sent  for  me  to  come  lo  his  household.  And 
thai,  of  course,  was  Ihe  greatest  day  of  my 
life. 

My  wedding  gown  was  so  rich  and  heavy 
lhal  il  almost  stood  up  by  itself.  My  molher 
helped  me  lo  pul  il  on.  Princess  Fawzia,  the 
King's  sister,  had  come  lo  accompany  me. 
The  gown  was  of  heavy  cream  satin,  em- 
broidered and  encrusted  until  il  was  nearly  as 
stiff  as  metal,  with  six  thousand  jewels  and 
more  than  one  million  pearl  sequins.  lis  very 
solidity  gave  mc  a  feeling  of  courage  for  the 
big  day  that  lay  ahead  of  me. 

"  It  makes  you  look  quite  a  queen,  Narri- 
man,"  my  mother  said  to  me,  and  her  eyes 
were  wet.  I  can  remember  how  it  rustled  like 
the  sea  as  I  walked  over  to  the  mirror,  lo 
look  at  myself.  There  was  a  long,  cream,  em- 
broidered train  lhal  seemed  to  spread  end- 
lessly across  the  room,  and  tugged  behind  me 
like  a  heavy  anchor.  I  could  hardly  walk  a 
step  until  it  was  lifted  and  carried  for  me  by 
my  four  little  bridesmaids.  Each  of  these 
bridesmaids  wore  identical  dresses  of  white 
organza  with  matching  Juliet  caps. 

My  bridal  veil  was  of  Venetian  lace,  care- 
fully preserved  and  centuries  old. 

Crowds  had  been  gathering  outside  my 
father's  house  since  earliest  dawn,  and  by  the 
time  I  was  dressed  and  ready  they  were  so 
dense  that  they  threatened  to  break  the  cor- 
dons of  police. 

I  said,  rather  nervously,  to  Princess  Faw- 
zia, "  Is  it  going  to  be  like  that  all  the  way  in 
to  Cairo?" 

"Yes— all  twenty  kilometers  of  it,"  she 
answered,  laughing.  "There  must  be  thou- 
sands of  them!" 

Afterward  I  read  in  the  newspapers  thai 
there  were  half  a  million  people  watching  me 
drive  to  my  husband.  To  me,  that  afternoon, 
it  seemed  as  if  all  the  population  of  the  world 
was  waiting  for  me  outside  my  father's 
house. 

A  huge  limousine  which  shone  in  the  sun- 
light like  a  jewel  was  waiting  in  front  of  the 
house  to  carry  me  to  the  Palace  of  Abdin. 
The  car  was  painted  a  bright  red,  like  all  the 
automobiles  of  the  Imperial  Court.  This  color 
is  a  privilege  of  the  King's;  no  one  else  drives 
bright  red  cars  in  Egypt. 

In  the  streets  people  were  crowding  one 
another,  and  soldiers  in  gala  uniforms  were 
pushing  them  back  and  standing  in  forma- 
tion from  the  door  of  the  house  up  to  the 
driveway. 


having 
trouble 
with 


1- 


/ 
#  n 


your 


ylons 


Haven't  you  been  embarrassed  and 
annoyed  time  and  again  by  snags  and 
runs?  Then  stop  washing  your  nylon 
stockings  the  old-fashioned  way  ..  .with 
soaps  and  flakes ..  .start  washing 
them  with  Nylast! 

Now  amazing  new  Nylast,  made  exclusively  for 
nylons,  actually  strengthens  and  protects  nylon 
stockings  as  it  washes  them.  No  soap,  no  flake  can 
do  that  for  your  precious  nylons.  Why?  Because 
Nylast  contains  vital  ingredients  by  DuPont  that 
coat  each  nylon  thread  with  invisible  protection 

against  snags  and  runs.  A  survey  among 
thousands  of  women  proves  that 
regular  Nylast  users  average  sixteen 

extra  wearingsl  So  tonight, 
strengthen  and  protect  your  nylons 
as  you  wash  them.  Cut  your 
hosiery  bills  in  half. 
Get  Nylast  at  your 

favorite  store  or 
supermarket. 


Nylasr 

for  washing  nylons 


A  product  of  Seaman  Brothers, 

makers  of  Air-Wick,  and  distributors 
of  other  dependable  household 
products  for  66  years. 


Tune  in  Pet  Milk's  "Truth  or  Consequences"  radio 
show,  NBC  Networl<,  every  Thursday  night 

c^y.'evn  new,  tasty 


HOW  TO  WAKE 
RIPE  OLIVE  TUNA  RING 

Biscuit  Ring 

Tuna-Olive  1  pet  Milk 

Sauce       I  1  (7  ounce)  can  tuna 
Ll  cup  canned  peas 
Biscuit  Ring:  Combine  Bisquick.JJ 
Milk  and  water  and  mix  ^^e 
onto  floured  boaid  and  K^^  rounds 
Roll  1/2  inch  thick,  together 
with  2-iiich  cutter  .  Pl^^^^^  circle.  Bake 
on  greased  baking  sheet  ^ 

in  hot  oven  (42o Jiegi        ^^^^^  gg^-v- 

TnTpSi^rard"--^^^^'^^ 

olive  sauce. 

Tuna-Olive  Sauce:  Cut  ojw^^^^^^^ 
into  large  pieces.  Or  bUce  pi  ^^^^^ 
Blend  together  soup  and  f^^^^  ^^.^.^^^ 
^p^a^ 'HiaTttS    serves  4.  ^  ^  ^  ^ 


It's  an  easy-to-fix  dish  created 
especially  to  help  you  perk  up 
Lenten  eating.  Feeds  . . .  and  pleases 
. . .  four  hungry  people 


Have  you  been  searching  for  a  Lenten 
main  dish  that's  different?  Lady,  look  no 
longer  . . .  you've  found  it ! 

New-recipe  Ripf,  Olive  Tuna  Ring  gives 
your  family  a  well-balanced  meal,  all  in 
one  dish.  It's  nourishing,  it's  filling — and 
above  all,  it's  mighty  good  to  eat. 

Make  it  soon! 


MANY  WAYS 


As  soon  as  the  people  saw  me,  they  began  , 
to  applaud.  It  sounded  like  the  roar  of  the  sea ; 
it  was  tlie  first  time  I  had  experienced  any- 
thing like  it.  Princess  Fawzia,  tlie  beautiful 
sister  of  the  King,  whispered  to  me  consol- 
ingly, "Don't  forget  to  hold  your  head  high, 
and  keep  walking  slowly,  so  that  your  little 
flower  girls  can  keep  step  with  you  .  .  .  and 
don't  worry,  you  look  entirely  charming." 
Dutifully  I  held  my  head  high.  And  I  could 
not  help  walking  slowly,  for  my  wedding 
dress  had  a  train  some  six  yards  in  length. 
And  to  my  own  surprise  J  noticed  that  as  1 
approached  the  car  the  weight  of  timidity 
left  me  and  I  was  able  to  smile.  I  believe  that 
this  change  was  due  to  the  smiles,  laughter 
and  applause  of  the  many  people. 

It  was  a  drive  of  about  eight  or  ten  miles  to 
the  Palace  of  Abdin,  where  the  King  was 
waiting  for  me.  I  was  happy  that  Princess 
Fawzia  was  accompanying  me  on  the  long 
journey.  Everywhere  the  streets  were  full  of 
applauding  ^spectators.  It  seemed  as  though 
I  were  slowly  driving  into  the  jaws  of  some 
roaring  whirlwind,  or  along  the  sliores  of  a 
tumultuous  sea.  Airplanes  circled  above  our 
lieads  in  formation,  but  we  could  not  hear 
them,  so  loud  was  the  applause  of  the  crowd. 

I  felt  Princess  Fawzia  place  her  hand  over 
mine.  "Of  what  are  you  thinking,  my  dear?" 
she  asked  me. 

"  I  was  just  thinlcing  that  I  shall  have  to 
work  hard  to  merit  all  this  devotion,"  I  re- 
plied. 

And  indeed  I  was  thinking  not  only  of  my 
husband,  Farouk,  wlio  had  done  all  this  for 
me,  but  of  the  people  themselves,  who  had 
come  from  so  far  and  waited  so  long  to  ac- 
claim me  and  to  wish  me  well.  To  be  a  queen 
does  not  consist  in  wearing  costly  robes  nor 
in  knowing  the  correct  etiquette  at  Court 
banquets  or  on  public  occasions.  I  no  longer 
belonged  to  myself  alone.  It  seemed  to  me  as 
though  I  had  been  broken  into  thousands  of 
small  pieces  and  strewn  to  the  crowds-  I  be- 
longed to  them  and  had  become  a  part  of 
their  lives,  just  as  these  people  had  become 
a  part  of  mine. 

Then  I  saw  the  King  standing  in  the  midst 
of  a  group  of  standard  bearers.  All  were 


wearing  formal  Prince  Albert  coats,  or 
brilliant  uniforms  with  broad  sashes, 
many  decorations.  Farouk  was  stanc 
among  them,  big  and  entirely  at  ease  |e 
smiled  at  me  as  the  car  came  to  a  hal  i 
front  of  the  group. 

I  had  no  time  to  be  nervous.  He  offered  ij 
his  arm.  It  telt  secure  as  steel.  I  felt  strerjh 
and  security  flowing  through  me,  as  we  slo  |y 
strode  up  the  imposing  red-carpeted  st:-. 
way  of  tlie  haremlek  of  tlie  Palace  of  Ab|i, 
which  was  from  now  on  to  be  my  home.  1 

The  palaces  of  the  Orient  are  divided  iio 
two  parts.  The  more  important  is  the  "|. 
emlek,"  where  the  king  lives  with  his  folli. 
ers  and  where  the  official  receptions  tie 
place.  Here  foreign  ambassadors  pres  t 
their  credentials  and  the  great  state  t. 
quets  are  held.  The  "haremlek"  is  thereji 
of  the  queen,  a  palace  in  itself,  where  |e 
lives  with  her  court  ladies. 

At  the  top  of  the  stair  the  guests  of  hctr 
were  waiting  to  greet  me;  at  their  head  is 
Prince  Mohammed  Aly ,  whd  was  then  heir]  - 
sumptive  to  the  Egyptian  throne.  At  his  s ; 
was  Sultana  Malek,  wife  of  a  former  suit, 
and  two  of  the  three  little  girls  whom  I  I? 
to  grow  to  know  so  well,  and  with  whoi  1 
was  to  share  so  many  strange  and  excil  j 
adventures:  tlie  two  elder  daughters  of  K:^ 
Farouk,  Princesses  Ferial  and  Fawzia.  B  i 
were  wearing  long  white  organdy  dres:, 
trimmed  with  pale  green  velvet  matching  ; 
velvet  bows  in  their  carefully  dressed  h 
They  were  watcliing  me  with  their  gi ; 
dark-browii  eyes  as  I  walked  up  the  sta . 
At  their  side  stood  the  beautiful  sisters  f 
the  King.  These  princesses  were  so  gowi  1 
that  every  dress  harmonized  with  th ; 
of  her  sisters,  like  so  many  colored  flow  ; 
in  a  carefully  arranged  bouquet.  They  1 
smiled  at  me  in  friendly  welcome  and  i 
mild  light  of  the  chandelier  illumina  i 
a  dazzling  medley  of  jewels,  silks  and  r;  - 
ant  faces. 

They  greeted  me  with  a  resonant  "  T<.  ■ 
anial"  This  was  the  first  lime  that  ro  i 
greeting  was  extended  to  me.  It  is  a  spe(|l 
politeness  of  the  Orient,  and  is  uttered  !' 
(Cmjtinited  on  Page  172) 


JENNIFER 


Elegant  on  your  table.  For  Elegant  as  appetizers.  Elegant  in  countless  recipes.  For  free 
a  party  touch  without  fuss,  When  you're  fixing  a  tray  booltlet  "Elegant  but  Ea.sy  Recipes  with 
and  for  only  pennies,  set  of  tidbits  to  sharpen  appe-  California  Ripe  Olives,"  write  Olive  Ad- 
out  a  bowl  of  gleaming,  big  tites,  don't  forget  to  add  visory  Board.  Dept.  D-3,  24  California 
ripe  olives  on  your  table  big  ripe  olives  Street,  San  Francisco  11,  California 


"I  just  said  I  dont  think  mothers 
get  enough  credit  for  being  motliers!" 


Ihere's  our  man  - 

You  can  always  find  the  jolly  Green  Giant 
ready  to  welcome  you  from  the  label 


1 


The  biggest  thing  about  the  Green  Giant  is  not  his  size. 
It's  the  feeling  of  confidence  you  get  when  you  see  his 
picture  on  a  label. 

That  picture  talks.  It  tells  about  peas  that  are  still 
babies  in  tenderness.  Tall,  golden  kernels  of  corn  with 
summer  in  every  mouthful.  Grown  with  care  such  as  no 
peas  or  corn  ever  had  before.  Then  picked  and  packed  at 
the  fleeting  moment  of  perfect  flavor. 

And  all  this  just  to  make  your  mealtime  life  a  little 
happier.  Any  wonder  he's  smiling? 


GREEN  GIANT  PEAS 
NIBIETS  MEXICORN 


NIBIETS  SCORN 
GREEN  GIANT'^rCORN 


mt  Company,  keadquarters.  Le  Sueur,  Minnesola;  Fine  Foods  of  Canada,  Ltd.,  Tecumseh,  Ontario. 
Ben  Giant."  "Del  Maiz,"  "Niblets"  and  "Mexicorn"  are  trade-marks  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Ofl.  GGCo.  ©  GGCo. 


172 


L   A    D    I    V.    S  ' 

If  you 

scrub  floors... 

launder 
clothes... 

wash  the 
car... 

or  bathe 
thebab}f 


II    O    M  E 


J    O    U    K    l\    A  L 


...you  need  the  LOTION 

MADE  FOR  BUSY  HANDS! 


If  housework  is  part  or  all  of  your 
day,  better  be  choose-y  about  hand 
lotion.  The  "glamour"  kind  is  fun  while 
you're  sweet  and  single — but  gather 
up  a  husband  and  a  household  and  see 
what  happens!  Then,  your  hands  need 
Italian  Balm — made  for  busy  hands. 

This  lotion,  with  medically-proved 


one  drop 


ingredients,  soothes  and  softens  rough, 
chapped  hands  overnight — and  used 
daily,  A'peps  them  smooth  no  matter 
what!  Like  an  "invisible  glove,"  it 
holds  in  softness,  keeps  out  dryness. 

Women  who  ]tnow  about  housework, 
insist  on  Italian  Balm,  for  no  other 
lotion  is  like  it.  25<5,  50?^,  1.00. 


Italiaiv  Balm 


BY  CAMPANA 


STOP  PAYING 
FANa  PRICES 

m  i-for^loort^^l 


AEROWAX  is  GOOD  wax 


HOW  TO  Him.l(<mouKJSm!4d^ 
DRAPES  &  SLIPCOVERS!  ^ 


free 


nplete 


llliful, 

t.  mfKjcrn  drapes  and  slipcovers 
rfect  for  modern  or  ranch-style 
homes.  Instructions  are  simple,  clear 
and  detailed — anyone  can  follow  them 
with    ease.    Redecorate    your  entire 
home — it's  so  easy,  costs  you  so  little 
T  you  make  your  own.  Send  fur 
your  FREE  instructions  now? 
NTASCA  weavers  GUIID  Dept.  S-f,  Itasco,  Te>as 


Americc's 
Largest-Selling 
Silver  Cleaner 


(Continued  fro?n  Page  170) 
both  men  and  women.  When  speaking  this 
greeting,  one  bo^^s  down  as  though  about  to 
touch  the  ground  and  then  touches  the  heart, 
the  mouth  and  the  eyebrows.  This  means, 
"Before  you  I  am  less  than  the  dust,  but  my 
heart,  my  hps  and  my  thoughts  shall  always 
dutifully  be  yours." 

The  various  officials  of  state  and  members 
of  the  diplomatic  corps  were  also  standing 
there  to  greet  me.  I  could  hear  my  name  and 
my  new  royal  title  spoken  in  more  than  a 
dozen  languages  by  men  whose  uniforms  or 
dress  suits  blinked  with  diamond-set  orders 
of  nobility. 

The  great  reception  hall  in  the  Palace  of 
Abdin  has  only  one  big  entrance.  And  so,  to 
reach  the  two  large, 
thronelike  chairs  upon 
which  the  King  and  Queen 
sit,  it  is  necessary  to  walk 
through  the  whole  length 
of  the  room,  a  matter  of 
some  eighty  yards.  I  sat  on 
one  of  the  thronelike  chairs 
with  my  husband  at  my 
side,  and  felt  that  from  this 
moment  onward  I  would 
have  the  strength  to  share 
his  life. 

That  night  Egypt  cele- 
brated until  dawn.  Fire- 
works crackled  in  the 
streets.  Every  important  building  was  illumi- 
nated with  searchlights  and  neons.  All  the 
ships  on  the  Nile  were  decorated  with  gar- 
lands of  paper  lampions,  and  every  poor 
family  in  Cairo  received  a  gift  of  clothing  and 
food  from  my  husband.  The  schools  were 
closed  and  all  hospitals,  asylums  and  or- 
phanages, in  the  whole  of  Egypt,  were  given 
food  and  money  with  which  to  celebrate. 

The  great  reception  in  the  Palace  of  Abdin 
lasted  until  four  in  the  morning.  Finally  the 
festivities  were  over  and  the  King,  my  hus- 
band, led  me  to  the  apartments  of  the  Queen. 
In  the  meantime,  all  my  belongings  had  been 
brought  from  Heliopolis  and  my  clothes  were 
already  hanging  in  the  closets  of  my  new 


O0O0OOOO0O 

The  men  of  the  nation  are 
what  their  mothers  make 
them,  as  a  rule;  and  the 
voice  which  those  men 
speak,  in  the  expression  of 
their  power,  is  the  voice  of 
the  women  who  bore  and 
bred  them. 

—JEROME  PAiNE  BATES 

©O00O0o©©e 


March,  l%i 

home.  It  seemed  odd  to  see  these  familiar  ob- 
jects in  these  new  surroundings.  Farouk  was 
very  tender  as  he  personally  led  me  through 
the  vast  apartments.  Then  he  kissed  me  on 
the  forehead  and  said,  "Chhie,  did  the  fes- 
tivities please  you?" 

"Very  much,"  I  answered.  "I  only  wish 
my  father  had  lived  to  see  this  day." 

Farouk  nodded  seriously.  "  I  would  have 
been  very  happy,  too,  if  my  father  had  seen 
it."  I  knew  how  much  his  father  had  meant 
to  him.  For  years  he  had  been  mourning  the 
memory  of  his  father. 

"Tomorrow,"  he  said,  "as  soon  as  we  are 
rested,  we  must  visit  the  graves  of  your  fa- 
ther and  of  mine.  We  must  pray  for  them; 
then  they  will  know  that  they,  too,  were 
present  at  our  wedding, 
for  indeed  they  were  pres- 
ent in  our  hearts,  were  they 
not,  cherie?" 

I  nodded;  I  was  close 
to  tears.  But  my  heart 
was  full  of  joy,  for  Farouk, 
with  all  his  tenderness  to- 
ward me,  and  in  his  al- 
most boyish  reticence,  was 
a  man  whom  apparently 
only  I  really  knew.  To  ev- 
eryone else,  he  was  the 
King  of  Egypt.  But  I  grew 
to  know  him  when  his 
only  wish  was  to  sit  on 
the  balcony  in  the  soft  night  air  and  speak  to 
me  of  his  hopes  and  troubles,  both  of  which 
he  had  in  full  measure.  Then  I  would  listen 
to  him  silently  and  stroke  his  hand.  And  I 
was  proud  that  my  nearness  seemed  to  do 
him  so  much  good. 

The  next  day  we  went,  as  we  had  planned, 
to  the  grave  of  King  Fuad,  his  father,  and 
after  that  we  visited  the  grave  of  my  father, 
who  if  he  had  only  lived  one  year  longer 
could  himself  have  signed  my  marriage  con- 
tract. I  closed  my  eyes  and  murmured  a 
prayer  for  my  father  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  he  was  very  near  to  me.  ^ 

(To  be  Continued) 


Political  Pilgrims  Carry  On 


ROBERTA  BAUER  AND  CHILDREN 

1CAN  free  myself  for  community 
work  only  by  enlisting  the  help  of 
the  three  older  children,"  says  Mrs. 
Bauer,  of  Portland.  Oregon.  (Roberta, 
Junior,  at  eight  months,  does  not 
simplify  the  schedule.) 

All  three  older  children,  even  5-year- 
old  Kent,  make  their  own  beds  and 
keep  their  rooms  in  order.  Kent  also 
empties  wastebaskets,  performs  other 
minor  chores.  The  girls,  Bette-B,  11, 
and  Mary,  8,  set  the  table,  do  the  eve- 
ning dishes,  with  the  help  of  the  dish- 
washer; Bette  gives  the  baby  supper 
while  Mrs.  Bauer  cooks  dinner.  "But 
none  of  this  would  be  possible  if  I 
didn't  have  an  understanding  husband 
who  realizes  that  I  am  happier  and 
easier  to  live  with  if  I  have  something 
to  do  besides  push  dirt  from  one  part 
of  our  ten-room,  old-model  house  to 
another." 

Mrs.  Bauer  has  been  active  in  the 
League  of  Women  Voters  for  several 
years,  but  the  recent  presidential  elec- 
tion was  her  first  experience  as  a  party 
worker.  A  registered  Democrat,  she 


calls  herself  an  independent  voter. 
After  twice  hearing  Governor  Adlai 
Stevenson  speak,  she  decided  to  work 
for  his  election.  She  served  as  a  Volun- 
teer for  Stevenson,  working  in  the 
committee  headquarters,  distributing 
leaflets — and  campaigning  among  her 
friends. 

"The  only  convert  I'm  sure  of 
is  my  husband,"  she  says.  "He  was 
undecided  until  the  last  minute  (we 
both  admire  Eisenhower)  but  he 
finally  cast  his  vote  for  Stevenson  too." 

This  winter.  Mrs.  Bauer  is  occupied 
with  the  program  of  the  Individual 
Liberties  Committee  of  the  League 
of  Women  Voters,  serving  as  research 
chairman  and  once  a  month  as  hostess 
in  her  own  home  to  the  50  or  60  mem- 
bers. This  project,  she  feels,  will  give  her 
valuable  legislative  experience,  espe- 
cially useful  when 
she  again  takes 
up  party  activity. 
"Anyway,  when 
I'm  asked  to  work, 
I  will,"  she  says. 


rmiiicii  PiiciiiM's  mm\ 


I.    \    II    I  I 


II  II 


Ml         I     II     I      l(     \     \  I 


SAVE^'i-RUGS. 


Lesson 

from  daughter 

She  learned  it  at  school.  Sani-Flush 
is  the  modern  way  to  keep  toilet 
bowls  sparkliiiti  clean  without  work. 
Quick,  easy,  sanitary.  Sani-Flush 
acts  chemically — no  messy  scrub- 
bing. Disinfects  too — just  follow 
directions  on  the  yellow  can. 

Be  sure  to  get  Sani-Flush  at  your 
grocer's.   No  other  will  do.  The 
Hygienic  Products  Co., 
Canton  2,  Ohio. 


RFUMED  with  a 


fresh,  mild  fragrance 


NWANTED  HAIR? 

IT'S  OFF  6eceu5c  IT'S  OUT 


k  as  a  wink,  superfluous  hair  eliminated.  Com- 
ly  removes  all  hair  from  FACE,  arms  and  legs, 
ks  future  growth.  Leaves  the  skin  petal-smooth. 


E  >=  I  I.  A  T  o  R 

magic.  Milady's  skin  becomes  adorable.  For  the 
t  down  or  the  heaviest  growth.  Seems  miraculous, 
)uf  39  years  experience  proves  it  is  the  scientifically 
:ct  way.  Odorless.  Safe.  Harmless.  Simple  to  apply. 
:rior  to  ordinary  hair  removers.  For  15  years  ZiP 
Hot  was  $5.00.  NOW  ONLY  $1.10.  Same  superior 
lula,  same  size.  Good  stores  or  bv  mail  $1.10  or 
O.D.  No  Fed.  tax.  Above  guaranteed,  money-back,  i 
)RDEAU  INC.  Bo»  C-ll.  SOUTH  ORANGE.  N.J.^ 

>  FALSE  TEETH 

Rock,  Slide  or  Slip? 

'ASTEETH,  an  improved  powder  to  be 
nkled  on  upper  or  lower  plates,  holds  false 
h  more  firmly  in  place.  Do  not  slide,  slip 
rock.  No  gummy,  gooey,  pasty  taste  or 
ing.  FASTEETH  is  alkaline  (non-acid), 
js  not  sour.  Checks  "plate  odor"  (denture 
ith).  Get  FASTEETH  at  any  drug  store. 

tn  mouth  tissues  change  —  see  your  dentist. 


:ORNS 


loved  by  Mosco,  also  Calluses. 
:k,  easy,  economical.  Just  rub 
Jars,  30c,  SOi*.  At  your  druggist.  Money  refund- 
if  not  satisfied.  Moss  Co.,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 


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nV.ST  \\  \Sl\¥.S 

(i  'otainiiiil  irum  J'my  /H) 

to  a  birthday  parly,  ll's  a  small  parly,  a 
Krown-up  one  and  as  lovely  a  one  as  you'd 
care  to  be  at.  St-e  that  cake?  Isn't  that  soiiic- 
tllin^;? 

If  you're  mixed  up  with  a  birthday, 
this  month  or  any  month  e.m-pt  the  real  hot 
ones,  this  is  a  ^(kmI  Ix't  lor  your  siip|x:r.  Sr» 
let  us  lx•^;in  where  supi)er  tx-uinninns  are  sup- 
lX)sed  to  iH'Kin,  and  that's  at  ilie  lK>^:innint^. 
(No,  I  did  not  take  tins  from  ( iertrude  Stem 
it's  strictly  mine.) 

HAKIJ)  OYSI  KHS  IN  .SCAI.I.OI'  .SIIKI.I.S 

Druiii  I  quurt  oyHlerH.  (wt  over  (lieni  well  for 
hilK  or  xhell.  Kver  try  hiliiii;  ii  kIk  II':'  Well,  I 
huvc.  (loiiHiill  your  deiiliHl  pninlii.  (  :iiii|t 
oyHlerH  line.  Cm  up  1  ulalkH  eelrry  iiiiil  2 
p<'el<-d  iiicdiuiii  oiiioiiH.  I'ul  in  a  elioppiii^ 
liou  I  and  rliop  lordlier  niilil  really  linr.  Mell 
'2  lalilesp<Min!-  Iinlter  or  niar;:arinr  in  a  lr\  in^ 
pan.  SinnniT  llit-  ri'lory  and  oniiMiH,  linl  do 

not  let  llieni  lirovvn.  \dil  2  lliin  Aii  vH  I  in, 

niiiu-ed  line,  alon^  uilli  a  peeled  elove  of 
>;arli<',  niineed  line  I<h>.  .S|irinkle  uilli  I  liay 
leal.  eruHlieil,  and  '  j  leaspiMin  lliyine.  \dd  a 
lit  lleoysler  licpior  lo2rnpHM>fl  bread  rrniidis. 
S<nieezeoul  and  a<id  lo  llie  mixture.  .Simmer, 
very  slowly,  alioul  Mi  rnimileHover  low  heal. 
Add  oysters  and  season  willi  '  ^  leaspiHin  sail 
and  a  dash  of  Tahaseo  sanee.  Sinnner  now  un- 
til oysters  are  <'<H>ked  and  llavors  come  to- 
gether in  true  marriage.  \dd  seasonings  as  yon 
taste  and  if  needs  Ik-.  Stir  in  I  slightly  beaten 
egg.  Stir  over  low  heat  2  niimites.  Divide  in 
scallop  shells,  (lover  with  bullered  erumhs. 
Sprinkle  with  paprika.  Bake  in  a  m<ideral<- 
oven,  .'i.'iO  1'".,  about  211  minutes.  Makes 
enough  for  (>— 8  shells.  Shells  may  be  fixed  sev- 
eral hours  before  diiuier  and  baked  at  the  last 
minute. 

Leapitig  lightly.  There  are  sighs  of  satis- 
faction when  the  party  folks  learn  what  the 
entree,  the  second  course,  the  heart  of  the 
supper,  is  to  be.  Chicken  is  the  universal 
favorite,  as  popular  as  Jcx;  DiMaggio  with 
Yankee  fans  when  he  used  lo  take  his  prac- 
tice swings  during  the  World  Series.  Chicken 
will  appear  always,  I  trust.  Broiled  to  a  crisp 
tenderness,  fricasseed  and  baked  and  fried. 
The  last  companioned  by  apple  fritters  and 
potato  puffs  and  tomatoes  and  pineapple 
and  made  divine  with  a  sauce  like  yellow 
cream. 

Another  way.  And  now  there  is  another 
way  of  making  a  chicken  proud  of  its  role. 
Only  be  sure  it  is  chicken  and  not  an  old  hen 
or  rooster.  Such  are  sometimes  palmed  off  on 
Ihe  trusting  young  or  the  careless,  and 
whether  smothered  or  in  a  chicken  pie,  are 
easily  spotted.  So  be  sure  yours  is  young  and 
has  the  right  family  connections. 

SMOTHKRKl)  CHICKKN 

Have  a  .S-pound  roasting  ehieken  cut  up  as 
for  fry  ing.  (Save  giblets  and  cook  in  seasoned 
water  to  use  later  for  sandwiches  or  make 
into  doodads  for  the  hors-d'oeuvre  tray.) 
V^'ash,  dry  and  dredge  pieces  in  34  cup  Hour 
seasoned  with  salt  and  pepper.  It  is  easiest  if 
you  put  the  seasonings  and  flour  in  a  paper 
bag,  shaking  the  chicken  in  the  bag  a  piece  at 
a  time. 

Heat  )/i  cup  butter  or  margarine  and 
1^  cup  shortening  together  in  a  Duteh-oven- 
ty  pe  pot.  The  kind  you  use  for  chowder  and 
such.  BrowTi  a  few  pieces  of  chicken  at  a 
time  in  butter  or  margarine.  Remove  the 
last  pieces  of  chicken  and  add  the  remaining 
seasoned  flour  lo  the  pot.  Mix  well  until 
smooth  and  brown  il  a  little,  stirring  like  all 
get  out  every  minute.  Add  1  quart  canned 
chicken  broth.  And  be  sure  it's  strong  and 
clear.  Cook  until  smooth  and  thickened, 
stirring  even  if  your  arm  aches.  It  won't,  but 
stir  anyhow.  Take  out  about  1 '  i  eups  of  the 
gravy  to  heat  later  and  pass  with  the 
chicken.  Put  the  brow  ned  chicken  back  in  the 
remaining  gravy.  Cover  tightly  and  simmer 
on  top  of  the  range  1  hour  over  low  heat. 

The  chicken  and  gravy  may  be  baked  in  a 
covered  roaster  or  casserole  in  a  moderate 
oven,  350°  F.,  for  about  the  same  length  of 


.  ■  ■ ....... 

'fX^-l^  yfi^SfSy  y^—^ /^^^^k  I  ""^l/^J^    Itriiiiilliiiiiiii  in  ni  ir        "^t-  y 

'/  '  )  iJQyfs  //  ^/^    ^^^^  '  'fliiri:  mill  Kiiiliiiiini il 

RUG  Magic 

-^r^-y  -FREE  to  Every  Reader     -<j>ii\ .. , 

ii'^  Jf<y  Your  I  ^rs4xl  I 

^rKrZ^ft^ t^\t  '  '  '"'"'■'^  ('(>ii|)iiii  or  il  |)<)sl(:iril  for  tin;  fiiKin  ,t 

^i^^Pjr  I  Imk,  new,  moiiey-saviiiK  OIhor  l>ook,  /,0  jxi{j<:'i 

■  ol  52  up-      „/  Huyit  and  iiutiM  roorrui  in  uetiiul  colors.  Telia  ^^^^ 
and ''"two 'ton«      '"'w  to  Kct  luxurious,  new,  decp-texturcd,  Revers- 

ccTlori  "cajua*  '  l*roa(llooiii  HuKS  like  these  at  a  bil?  saving  J    ■■  ' 

new  texluie  and  I  hy  sendinK  your  disc:ariled  Uukh,  (Jarpets,       ^*«^  ^      ^#  full' 

tmboised   effects,  |  Clothiiit?  to  the  Olson  Factory  at  our  ex|>Gn8e.  Color 

leaf  and  floral  dc-  . 

ligns,   colorful  Early  I 

American  and  Ori-  |  YOUR  NAME  

cntal  patterns,  ovals  .  (c> 

—regardless  of  colors  ■  ADDRESS  Cite 

in  your  old  materials.  ■   

ANY  SIZE  up  to  16  !  TOWN  STATE  .....  r  

h.,  seamless,  any  ^  Qur  78th       r\  ,   ^  ^  Kt      Dii.^  ^         Dept.  A-94 

length.  ^^^^        OLSON     KUG     CO.     Chicago  41.  III. 


LAMPS  TOO,  DESERVE 


Gay,  colorful  fashions  in  home 
decorating  are  these  loveliest 
of  lampshades.  Smartly  styled 
in  all  shapes  and  sizes,  they 
match  the  sparkling  freshness 
of  the  new  season. 


Save  time  and  money.  Read 
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THE  \\JI  VIXjA  company 
at  Essex,  Connecticut 


4  ^ 


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CHOCOLATE 


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3  DELICIOUS  FLAVORS:  CHOCOLATE,  PENUCHE,  COCONUT 

■■JUNKET"   (Ree.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off.)  Is  the  trade-mark  of  Clir.  Hansen's  Laboratory.  Inc..  LlttJe- Falls.  N.  Y., 
for  Its  fudge  and  frosting  mix  and  for  Us  rennet  and  other  food  products. 


time.  But  watrh  it.  For  gravy  cooks  down 
and  you  should  add  some  more  broth  if  you 
need  it.  So  keep  a  can  extra.  I  believe  in 
keeping  your  powder  dry  and  your  eyes  wide 
open.  And  watch  your  aim. 

They  called  them  this.  If  tomatoes  were 
once  called  love  apples— and  I  know  that 
they  were — it  wasn't  such  a  misnomer.  They 
have  lovers  galore.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  give 
them  a  lead  role  in  the  smothered-chicken 
production,  and  I  leave  it  to  you  to  say 
whether  their  opposite  player,  the  green 
pea,  has  done  well  in  the  part,  for  here,  girls, 
they  are: 

BAKED  TOMATOES  AND  PEAS 
Cut  a  slice  off  the  tops  of  7  medium  ripe 
tomatoes.  Scoop  out  the  inside  pulp,  leaving 
a  "wall"'  that  will  keep  the  tomatoes  from 
faintiug  at  the  post.  Sprinkle  the  insides  of 
the  cups  generously  with  salt  and  pepper, 
and  please  add  souie  sweet  basil.  Oh,  what  a 
difference  that  makes!  Remember?  Turn 
the  cup.,  upside  down  in  a  bakiug  pan.  Bake 
in  a  moderate  oven,  3.50°  F.,  for  10—12  min- 
utes. Meanwhile  cook  2  packages  frozen 
peas  as  directed  on  the  package  or  heat  2  cans 
peas,  (^'ben  you  can  pick  them  in  the  garden, 
pick  them  there.  That  would  be  in  July.)  Drain 
and  seasoH  with  '  2  teaspoon  salt  and  a  dash 
of  pepper  and  }  3  cup  butter  or  margarine.  Fill 
the  tomatoes  with  peas.  This  provides  six  serv- 
ings w.ith  an  extra  for  the  platter.  And  may 
the  hungriest  man  win. 

Can  you  smell  them?  Come  in  out  of  the 
cold  March  air,  wind-blown  and  hungry  and 
mad  at  the  weather.  Come  in  the  kitchen 
door.  Mother  won't  mind  the  tracks  so  much 
if  you  don't  mess  up  the  rugs.  But  cross  as 
you  may  be,  one  of  those  heav&ly  odors 
assails  your  sensitive  nostrils  and  so  in  the 
kitchen  you  linger.  You  feel  no  further  in- 
terest in  the  rest  of  the  house.  You  sit  down 
in  the  high-back  rocker  with  the  calico 
cushion,  between  the  windows.  It's  warm  in 
the  kitchen,  you  rock,  and  mother  bustles 
from  table  to  stove  to  pantry  and  back  again. 
And  presently  she  reveals  what  you  knew 
long  ago.  Knew  the  minute  you  opened  the 
door.  There  are  biscuits  in  the  oven!  Hot 
biscuits — that  accounts  for  the  fragrance  in 
the  air. 

You  know  the  best.  You  know  what  they 
are  like.  You  visualize  them  as  the  baking 
lime  is  ending.  Light  as  a  cloud  over  the 
mountain,  flaky  as  a  pie  baked  by  fairy 
hands.  Filled  with  a  sweetness  that  doesn't 
come  from  sugar  or  honey.  I  know  these 
things.  I  have  been  there.  And  remembering 
such  tender  morsels — I  forgot  to  say  cut 
them  small — they  naturally,  almost  without 
volition,  went  into  this  birthday-party 
supper. 

HOT  BISCUITS 

Sift  2  cups  flour  with  3  teaspoons  baking 
powder  and  1  teaspoon  salt.  Take  '^-^  cup 
milk.  Have  it  just  so,  and  pour  in  cup  salad 
oil.  Do  not  stir  together.  Pour  into  the  dry 
ingredients.  Stir  with  a  fork  until  the  mix- 
ture cleans  the  sides  of  the  bowl  and  makes  a 
ball.  Knead  the  dough  lightly  on  a  floured 
board  or  pastry  cloth.  Roll  3^2"  thick  and  cut 
out  with  a  biscuit  cutter.  Place  biscuits  on 
an  ungreased  baking  sheet  and  bake  in  a 
hot  oven,  450°  F.,  about  15  minutes,  or  until 
golden  brown.  Makes  about  a  dozen  biscuits. 

The  resting  place.  Oysters,  smothered 
chicken,  baked  tomatoes  with  peas  and  those 
beautiful  biscuits,  what  more  could  you 
wish  to  make  your  meal  complete?  But  wait. 
There's  more  to  come.  Maybe  you  ought  to 
take  a  walk  around  the  block  or  down  to  the 
pasture  gate.  But  you  won't.  You'll  stay 
right  where  you  are  and  take  a  breather  and 
enjoy  an  appetite  rejuvenator,  which  in  this 
case  is  a  cool,  fresh,  appealing  bowl  of  well- 
dressed  salad. 

GREEN-BEAN-AND-PIMIENTO  SALAD 

Snip  off  the  ends  of  1  pound  green  beans. 
Wash  and  cut  the  beans  in  half  and 
cook  in  boiling  salted  water  until  tender. 
Drain  and  chill.  Be  sure  that  no  water  hangs 


THRIFTY  ONE-DISH  MEAL 

chicken  with  Rice.  Brown  1  cut-up 
fryer  in  V4  c.  oil;  remove  to  casserole. 
Saute  1  c.  raw  rice;  add  1  minced  onion, 
V2  minced  green  pepper,  1  minced  gar- 
lic clove;  saute  briefly.  Add  3  Herb-Ox 
Chicken  Cubes  dissolved  in  2  c.  hot 
water,  1  tbsp.  salt,  Vs  tsp.  pepper,  4 
tomatoes  quartered,  1  cup  peas.  Com- 
bine rice  with  chicken.  Bake  covered 
in  400°  oven  30  min.,  uncover  and 
bake  40  min.  more.  (Serves  4.) 


Now  in  new  re-usable 
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Re-usable  in  myriad  ways. 
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4 


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'II       l(      N      V  I 


iiroui"!  "illi  iIk-  Ih-iiiih  — or  uiih  i,„y  ,,||„.,. 
vcfjclulilr,    I'lir    llic    iiiiilliT   III'    lliiii.  Miv 

l'<Mlk(Ml      llCllMH      Uilll      '1      lill>l<-H|MMIIIH  lliri'll 

l<MH|)i>(>ii  (Irird  iii  fifiniiit  ami  i ., 
rii|i  Hliiir|>  l''rcii<li  ilrcHHiii^.  \i|i|  ,|  |ii||,.- 
iiiiiK'Cil  onion.  'I'lir  union  in  a  nialli-r  of 
IiiHlf,  liul  iTh  rIoHc  lo  a  nninl  ihohI  iil\»avH. 
Soi  l  ol'iioiiilH  ii|>  olhcr  llavorM.  (  !oin|il<'iiirii|n 
anil  roin|ilini<-nlH,  il  yon  knou  \>lial  I  iiiraii. 
And  I  f,MH'MH  >  ou  ilo.  <  iliill  2  lioiirH.  'I'ohm  \t  iih 
I  <|iiarl  loin  asHorlcd  halad  ;^ic<'iim. 

It  has  til  he.  'I'licic  isoiic  lluii^'.  no  one  can 
or  will  <lisal)iisf  in\  iiniid  of.  Tiial  is  tiio 
cl()j;ma  of  ice  cTi'aiii  at  parlifs.  II.  has  lo  he 
or  it's  no  |)ari  y. 

Tlu  tortoniqiikk.  A  biscuil  torloni  is  one 
of  liic  favorite  ice  creams  in  the  list.  I  wish 
a  neat  little  cup  of  tlie  luil-spanuied  delicacy 
could  Ko  to  yoii  i'll  alonn  with  ihe  receipt, 
liut  the  next  best  ihin^'  is  to  make  and  en- 
joy il,  with  your  quests.  I  lere  is  your  receipl . 
And  many  happy  returns! 

<,n  iciv  HHMOM  ici:  <:i{i:\M 

(!riiiiiiil<'  (>  sinall  Iwo-day-old  almond  niai-a- 
roons.  iiiakiii<:  alioiil  '  i  ('ii|i  i  riinilis.  Dice 
I'liji  candied  elieirifs  and  rlioji  '  cup  sailed 
loasled  aliiioiids.  Sailed  roasted  u almi Is  arc 
delicious  liere  loo.  I'lil  I  «|iiarl  \aiiilla  ici- 
cream  in  a  lioul.  Itrcak  up  >Nilli  a  spoon.  Lei 
il  sofleii  a  liil.  \dd  inai  aroons.  clierricH  aiul 
mils.  Slir  <|iiickly  lo;;ellicr.  Press  iiilo  pap<T 


one  llial  \oii  iiei 
"iicli  a  one  ttill 


d  one. 
•  onir 


II 

aiTOMM. 


•iiid  d)'iir 
liel  llial 

"■•ikH.  I  lie  l.iui,  I  „,„/  ,1,^  iheniioin- 

eler.)  Take  il  from  ilie  heal  ami  |H.iir  llie 
Hirnp  ;;radi,allN  over  .J  e;;;.  ,.|„,e.  I.ealen 
Hllll.  I.eali,,;;  llioroii^diU  a-  no,i  add  il  \dd 
II  jHlicli  of  Hall  ami  I  lea»|„M,u  \  amila  Heal 
nnlil  Ihe  iiiixliiie  i.  m|,,„„>  „„,|  ,,.,u,|.  „|,  ,„ 
lliifl\  peak-  and  uill  iiol  run.  riiil  vmiIi  >e|. 
I""  v.-ehd.lc  coloring,  lo  l|,e  -hade  »o.,  ad- 
' K'-l  il  lookii.;;  hke  a  cir.  u- 
I'OMler.  Keep  il  it,  ||„.  u„„.^  delicale  and  re- 
lined  cale<;or\  .  The 
eoloriiij'. 


same  an  m 


iiml 

II  I ilif  I.I 


crve  il.  Kelree/e  iinlil 
/inn  a^aiii.  Keeps  well 
ill  llie  Irays  al  normal 
rcfrifiera  lor  leinpera  - 
lure  for  several  days, 
rcrve  in  ihe  paper  I'lips 
nariil.-ilied  lo >  our  lancv. 
)r  molded,  or  in  your 
landsoinest  glass  or 
•hiiia  ho«l.  The  one 
lhal  heloiigs  tograndina 
)r  lhal  -Viinl  Susie  i;ave 
you  on  your  aniiivcr- 
iary. 


DEFENSE 
BONDS 


"The  flower!^  that 
irow"  etc.  A  birthday 
iemands   a  birthday 
:ake.  You  may  have  as  many  candles  as  llie 
eal  years  call  for.  Or  you  may  find  out — if 
■ou  care  to— how  many  years  liave  been  de- 
ermined  upon  as  Ihe  celebrant  shall  agree 
o.  Or  just  put  candles  on  as  you  choose  and 
orgel  the  years  that  have  passed.  Look  to 
he  years  ahead,  as  Robert  Browning  did. 
'Grow  old  along  with  me!  The  best  is  yet  to 
<e,  the  last  of  life,  for  which  the  first  was 
node."  Count  the  candles  that  way  and  the 
vish  will  come  true,  no  matter  how  many 
tay  lighted.  Il  works.  I  Imow. 

BotKjnet  and  bom/nets.  The  bouquets  on 
his  cake  do  not  fade  when  the  day  is  done, 
rhey'are  preserved  in  wax  and  their  fresh 
leauty  is  of  a  long-life  strain.  You'll  learn 
he  simple  trick  of  preservation  before  you 
inish  this. 

BOUQUET  BIRTHDAY  CAKE 

Ireain  ^-4  cup  hiillcr  or  iiiar<rarine  «itli  234 
lips  sufiar  nnlil  lifrhl.  Add  3  ej;ns,  one  at  a 
iine.  heatint;  well  afler  each  addilion.  Add  2 
easpoons  vanilla  and  3  s<piares  iinsw  eelcned 
liocolale,  inched.  Sill  lo^jellier  3  cups 
ake  flour,  'j4  teaspoon  sail  and  1^2  'ea- 
poons  bakini;  soda.  Add  ihc  dry  iiigrcdienls 
o  the  creanie<l  inixinre  allernalely  willi  I  ^  2 
ups  sourinilk  or  hullcrmilk,  heating  siiioolh 
Iter  each  addilion. 

Poi^r  into  two  •)"  greased  layer-cake  pans 
I'hich  have  been  lined  with  wax  paper  and 
reased  again.  Bake  in  a  moderate  oven, 
50°  F.,  for  l.*!  minutes.  Cool  10  minutes 
11  the  pans  before  taking  out  on  a  cake 
ack. 

Icing:  Mix  1)2  cups  sugar  with  32  eup 
later  and  a  pinch  of  cream  of  tartar  in  a 
eavy  pan.  Stir  well.  Cover  tightly  and  bring 
o  a  boil,  slowly.  Cook  until  the  sirup  spins 
louble  thread,s,  or  to  a  teinperalnre  of 
50°  F.  (This  means  a  can<ly  iherniomeler. 
f  you  baven"l  one.  gel  it  or  bint  to  sfime  near 


NOW  EVEN  BETTER 


Make  il  in  the  niornim^.  If  you  waiil  lo 
make  the  cake  or  any  cake,  for  that  mat- 
ter in  Ihe  morniim,  there's  a  problem,  or 
il  liKiks  like  one.  You  sliouldn't  try  pllllln^' 
il  in  the  refrigerator.  Hut  you  go  ahe.-id  and 
make  your  cake.  Choose  and  buy  Ihe  (lowers, 
and  some  lit  lie  advice  Ix'kMigs  here.  And  here 
it  is: 

Decoration  and  the  wayof  il.  In  I  he  spring 
you  may  use  grajX'  hyaciiilhs.  siilla.  hlies 
of  the  valley  and  the  liny  miniature  dalliKlils 
and  narcissus.  Hut  miniatures.  No  sun- 
flowers need  apply.  Sweet  peas.  liny.  Rose- 
buds. The  list  to  ch(X)se  from  is  long  and 
lovely. 

HV/.v  not  to  wane.  The  word  to  t>e  im- 
parted now  is  lhal  these  flowers  are  waxed 

soudle  cups  or  pack   >  a  Ir.-e/.ing  Iray.  I)e-    Not  bou.ght  waxed,  not  waxed  (lowers  txuight 

peiidson  whai  and  how  and  why  yon  wish  lo    from  a  haberdasher,  bul  waxed  by  yon.  And 
i-^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^         ^^'^  strange  rile  is  here 

lo  you.  The  beautiful 
result  here  for  you  to 
gaze  on. 

MOW    10  W  \\ 

Mel  I  enough  parallin — 
ihe  kind  >oii  use  lor 
sealing  jelly  glasses — 
lo  (ill  a  small  liow  I  up 
lo  the  deplb  of  2"  or 
3".  Sel  the  bowl  in  a 
pan  of  water  an<l  heat 
until  the  wax  melts. 
\\  ax   shonlibri    be  so 

  liol  thai  il  "cooks  the 

petals."  bul  just  melted. 
Keep  the  wax  in  a  pan  of  hoi  water  over 
very  low  heat  as  yon  wiirk.  Thai  «a\  il 
doesn't  gel  loo  liol  or  loo  c<ild. 

The  camlleliolder  comes  from  the  sh<ip 
in  se<-tions.  Lay  il  Hal  on  the  i-ake  plate,  or 
sel  <lireclly  on  the  table  around  the  cake. 
Leave  about  '  2  " '''''ins  on  the  llowers — bold 
the  stems  with  sinall  tweezers.  Dip  the 
blossoms  (piickly  into  and  out  of  the  wax 
and  luck  them  in  around  the  candles. 
For  the  cake,  leave  longer  sl<'ms  on  some  of 
the  flowers  lo  make  a  spray.  'Llie  llowers. 
vva.xed.  w  ill  look  as  fresh  as  the  day  ihey  were 
waxed  a  week  afterward.  ^  on  woiildn'l  keep 
cake  that  long — not  if  it"s  ihei-ake  I  think  il 
is — bill  you  may  want  lo  make  the  «'ake  in 
ihe  morning.  Fresh  blossoms  out  of  water 
v\oiild  will  before  you  could  say  Jack 
Robinson.  The  spray  is  easy  lo  lake  out  be- 
fore cutting. 

Salt  acres.  Some  years  a.go  I  had  an  herb 
garden  up  in  Connecticut.  Maybe  some  of 
you  remember  my  writing  various  pieces 
about  il  and  about  some  of  its  lovely  inhabit- 
ants. 

I  read  many  books  about  herbs  and 
I  had  herbalist  friends,  among  them  Rosetta 
Clarkson,  who  had  a  magnihcenl  herb  gar- 
den in  Westchester  Co.,  N.  Y.  She  wrote 
beautiful  herb  books— Green  Ench.\nt- 
MENT  and  Magic  G.'VRDENS  were  two.  and 
full  of  enchantment  they  were  loo.  .And  now 
Rosetta  Clarkson  has  gone  w-here  celestial 
gardens  grow  and  where  she  must  be  per- 
fectly al  home. 

Her  husband  has  written  a  book  about  this 
remarkable  woman  and  her  work.  It  is  a 
memoir  and  more.  A  labor  of  love.  I  recom- 
mend il  lo  you  for  quiet  and  inspiring  read- 
ing when  the  March  wind  blows  outdoors  and 
you  are  thinking  of  the  herbs  and  flowers  in 
your  garden  getting  ready  lo  w^ake  up  once 
again.  tuk  km> 


There's  only  one  Swift's  Premium 
Bacon...witlitliat  delectable 


176 


^ilie  ascd  to  wear  Size  42 


Uy  Oairn  Croirell  Norman 

Reality  Editor       the  Journal 

Is  it  possible  for  a  woman  to  gain  so  much  weight 
she  renders  herself  incapable  of  becoming  a  mother? 

After  receiving  many  letters  from  young 
l\.  married  women  who  blame  their  childless- 
ness on  their  excessive  weight,  the  Journal  put 
this  question  to  three  doctors  well  qualified  to 
answer.  All  three  replied  with  a  resounding 
"Yes."  Each  doctor  in  turn  said,  "I  personally 
have,  among  my  own  patients,  women  whose 
excessive  weight  is,  or  has  been,  the  sole  cause 
of  their  infertility."  Following  is  one  doctor's 
observation: 

"If  you  weigh  twenty  pounds  or  more  above 
your  ideal  weight,  you  are  considered  obese. 
Doctors  believe  the  greater  the  obesity  the 
lower  may  be  the  index  of  a  woman's  fertility. 
This  effect  on  fertility  is  apparently  due  to  a 
combination  of  disturbances  of  metabolism  and 
endocrine  function.  The  endocrine,  or  ductless, 
glands  include  the  thyroid,  pituitary,  pancreas 
and  sex  glands.  These  glands  form  their  own 
intricate  network  and  are  meant  to  function  in 


Ruth  lovingly  holds 
the  baby  son  she  thoug/it 
she  might  never  have. 


At  130  pounds,  Ruth  talces  on  a  new 
refinement  and  definement  of  face,  figure  and  personality! 


perfect  synchronization  with  oi!e  another.  Mal- 
function of  any  one  of  the  endocrines  can,  in 
itself,  be  sufficient  to  prevent  conception  or  in- 
terfere with  the  ability  to  carry  a  pregnancy  to 
term." 

Following  is  Ruth  Albrecht's  accounting  of 
her  own  inability  to  have  children  because  of 
her  excessive  weight,  as  she  has  told  it  to  us. 


T WOULD  like  to  thank  the  Journal  for  pub- 
lishing the  inspirational  letter  from  Helen 
Fraley,  who  lost  160  pounds  through  sensible 
dieting.  My  life  as  a  fat  girl  so  closely  parallels 
Helen's  I  felt,  as  I  learned  of  the  agonies  and 
heartbreak  she  suffered,  I  was  reliving  my  own 
childhood,  teens  and  twenties.  Reading  her 
story  prompts  me  to  tell  mine — with  the  sin- 
cerest  hope  that  it,  too,  may  help  other  over- 
weight women. 

Less  than  two  years  ago  my  husband  and  I 
considered  our  marriage  far  from  ideal.  Today 
we  are  one  of  the  happiest  young  couples  in 
town.  Each  time  we  hold  our  adorable  six- 
month-old  son,  Stephen,  in  our  arms  we  have 
to  remind  ourselves  this  is  not  just  a  wonderful 
dream  but  the  real-life  happiness  that  comes 
from  having  a  child  of  our  own. 

I  was  24  when  Syl  and  I  were  married  six 
years  ago.  From  the  start,  having  a  baby  took 
priority  rating  in  our  plans  for  a  perfect  future. 
Why  couldn't  we  have  a  baby  we  wanted  so 
much?  It  took  me  four  years  and  five  doctors 

before  I  found  out.  (Continued  on  Page  184) 


II     '  '     \l  I 


I       W       I  II         N        \  \ 


fliey  |Mii  ilisii  ""lOO  in  ilioir  linii*  wiili 


lie  Kiiifi  of  Iv  Si.  I.ouis,  111., 
^s,  "Lady  VVililroot  Sliiimpoo  jifia 
I  s(mI|i  pilik-clcun  .  .  .  wiislies  awiiy 
1  iiiul  jj;riiiu!  in  a  lwiiiklin}i;...gli?am3 
/  liuir  u'illioul  11  spi'ciiil  rinse." 


ft 


rna  Kelly,  East  Oiuiifie 
J.,  says,  "Lady  Wddioot 
ampoo  is  so  qnick-snilsing — 
'  hair  gets  cleaner  sooner, 
ys  cleaner  longer.'' 


Here  are  ff>ur  winners 
in  Wildroot's  nation-wide  $100 
Model  Hunt.  They  aren't  professional 
models — just  four  girls  with  beautiful  hair 
who  keep  it  beautiful  with  Lady  Wild  root 
Shampoo.  Discover  a  glowing  $100  gleam 
in  your  hair,  too.  Begin  using  Lady  Wildroot 
Shampoo  made  with  Lanolin,  today !  Leaves 
hair  i  adiantly  clean . . .  sparkling  with  highlights . . . 
lovelier  than  you  ever  dreamed  it  could  be. 
Watch  how  this  soapless  liquid  cream  shampoo 
whips  to  sudsy  froth  in  seconds.  Feel  how  silky  soft 
it  leaves  your  hair.  Try  Lady  Wildroot  Sliampoo 
—  and  find  the  hidden  gleam  in  your  hair! 


Lorraine  Sansoin,  New  Briiiiswii  k.  Can.,  says, 
"L-iidy  Wildroot  Shampoo  gets  my  hair  whistle- 
clean  . . .  leaves  it  with  sunny  highlights." 


llizabeth  Jane  Lewis  of  Denver,  Col.,  says,  "Lady  Wildroot 
hampoo  makes  my  hair  so  soft  .  .  .  and  it's  fun  to  use 
:ie  same  grown-up  shampoo  Mommy  does. 


You  can  ^     HkIO  inches)  shelving 

,o«.P«"""'"?  l„dse.wal>»'     s„,|  Nop"" 


/ 

Three  Sizes 

29p   59c  98ji 


178 


L   A    D    I    E    S  '       HOME  JOURNAL 


March,  J9; 


story 
on  why 


feel  so  good 

...the  fashion-flex 
arch  cradles . . .  lifts 
...helps  balance 
and  support  your 
every  step! 


8 


95 


for  the  itore  nearest  you,  write: 
PETERS  SHOE  COMPANY,  SAINT  LOUIS 


"MARY,  I  WAIVT  TO  TELL  YOU" 

(Conlinucd  from  Page  46) 


But  the  nagging  depression  would  not  go 
away,  and  on  his  office  desk  the  picture  of 
Mary  looked  straight  at  him,  as  if  accusing 
him  of  something. 

It  was  years  since  Mary  had  given  him 
that  picture  on  his  birthday,  almost  apologiz- 
ing for  it.  "Maybe  you  would  have  liked 
something  else — that  set  of  pipes  " 

He  wouldn't  have  liked  anything  else.  The 
expression  around  the  eyes,  the  smile — it  was 
Mary  herself,  captured  for  all  time  in  that 
picture.  He  had  said,  "Why,  it's  just  what  I 
wanted."  An  inadequate  darn-fool  thing  to 
say,  when  it  was  what  he  always  said,  for  the 
ghastly  ties  the  boys  picked  out  for  him,  the 
lumpy  ash  trays  Nancy  bought  with  saved 
pennies  at  the  dime  store. 

He  looked  away  from  the  picture  and 
riffled  through  the  morning  mail.  Mary  had 
known  how  he  felt  about  the  picture.  Of 
course  she  had.  Mary  knew  how  he  felt  about 
her.  A  man  was  married  twenty-four  years 
and  he  loved  his  wife,  and  she  knew  it.  With- 
out any  falderal  and  violins  playing  and  lace- 
paper  hearts.  Without  any  poetry  or  hand 
kissing  or  flowery  speeches. 

It  wasn't  even  necessary  to  think  about  it. 
He  didn't  know  why  he  was  thinking  about  it 
today,  unless  it  was  this  funny,  nostalgic 
weather.  And  the  fact  that  the  house  was  so 
quiet  now,  with  the  children  grown  and  gone, 
and  he  and  Mary  alone  again,  as  they  had 
been  when  they  were  first  married. 

Suddenly  even  the  office  seemed  too  quiet, 
and  he  began  opening  and  closing  drawers, 
slamming  the  files  with  a  tinny  crash,  drum- 
ming his  fingers  on  the  desk  top. 

When  his  secretary  came  in,  sleek  and 
pretty  in  her  new  brown  suit,  he  found  him- 
self speculating  about  her.  There  she  was,  a 
stunning  girl  with  a  diamond  ring  on  her  left 
hand.  Somebody  loves  Miss  Ames,  Ben 
thought,  and  I  wonder  what  he  says  to  her.  I 
wonder  if  he  tells  her  she's  like  a  rose.'' 

As  she  flipped  the  shorthand  notebook 
closed,  and  stood  up  to  go  back  to  the  outer 
office,  Ben  heard  himself  saying,  almost  in- 
voluntarily, "Miss  Ames,  what  does  your 
young  man  call  you?  Besides  Peggy,  I 
mean." 

She  looked  startled,  and  Ben  flushed. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said.  "I  can't 
think  why  I  asked  such  a  thing." 

"Why,  that's  all  right,  Mr.  Hartford,"  she 
said.  She  looked  down  at  the  doorknob,  then 
up  at  him,  and  a  dimple  whose  existence  he 
hadn't  suspected  flashed  in  her  cheek.  "If 
you  really  want  to  know,"  she  said,  "most 
of  the  time  he  calls  me  Birdbrain." 

Ben  laughed  as  she  closed  the  door.  There 
you  had  it.  No  Hearts  and  Flowers  in  this 
day  and  age.  He  means  sweetheart,  but  he  calls 
her  Birdbrain,  and  she  translates  it  herself. 

He  and  Mary  had  been  like  that.  They 
never  needed  to  talk  about  Love,  with  a  cap- 
ital letter.  Why,  when  he  proposed  to 
Mary  

Well,  actually,  he  never  had;  not  really. 
There  hadn't  been  any  moonlit  garden,  no 
tender  scene  on  a  honeysuckle-covered  porch. 
After  all,  they  were  the  generation  that 
kicked  sentiment  out  on  its  ear. 

ARY  had  been  a  pert  little  flapper,  with 
spit  curls  and  a  hat  like  an  overturned  sauce- 
pan. And  there  were  new  phrases  to  go  with 
the  new  short  skirts:  "I'm  crazy  about  you, 
baby.  You're,  the  cat's  pajamas,  the  bee's 
knees."  So  you  never  had  to  talk  about  love. 
You  could  say  it  all  with  a  wisecrack,  and  a 
pat  slang  phrase.  And  later,  over  the  years, 
you  said  it  by  bringing  home  a  pay  check, 
and  a  bunch  of  flowers  for  an  anniversary,  by 
fixing  the  kitchen  faucet,  and  not  getting 
mixed  up  with  other  women.  You  said  it  all 
indirectly.  You  never  had  to  put  it  into 
words. 

It  was  warm  in  the  office,  and  Ben  went  to 
open  the  window,  even  though  there  was  no 
breeze  to  come  in.  It  looked  like  summer,  and 
it  felt  like  summer,  but  there  was  the  unmis- 
takable haze  of  autumn  hanging  over  the 
city,  and  suddenly  he  had  a  terrible  sense  of 
time  passing.  Not  so  much  time  passing  as 


time  blowing  away.  Time  cast  on  the  wind, 
and  dissipated  into  blowing  clouds  that 
rushed  off  into  nowhere.  Why,  only  yester- 
day it  was  summer,  and  today  

A  man's  whole  life  could  be  passed  in  the 
subtle  changing  of  the  seasons,  without  his 
ever  having  said  the  things  he  felt ;  his  wife's 
whole  life  could  be  blown  away  without  her 
ever  having  heard  them. 

He  sat  down  at  his  desk  and  said  irritably 
to  Mary's  picture,  "Stop  nagging!" 

Oh,  he  could  say  that,  all  right.  Phrases 
like  that  always  came  easy.  "Stop  nagging, 
Mary,  for  the  love  of  Pete.  I  know  what  I'm 
doing.  .  .  .  Mary,  why  don't  I  have  a  clean 
shirt?  That  isn't  so  much  to  ask.  . . .  Why  do 
we  have  so  much  meat  loaf?  A  man  can't 
say  he  likes  something  without  getting  it  ev- 
ery day  for  six  months.  .  .  .  Always  fussing. 
If  I  don't  want  to  wear  rubbers,  I  won't  wear 
rubbers.  ...  Do  you  have  to  talk  so  much 
when  we're  trying  to  play  bridge?  .  . .  Mary, 
you  worry  too  much.  .  .  .  You  don't  disci- 
pline the  children  enough.  .  .  .  You  always 
wait  until  I'm  comfortably  settled  and  then 
ask  me  to  do  something.  .  .  .  Mary,  you 
don't  Mary,  you  always  " 

Oh,  those  words  came  easily,  automati- 
cally. But  the  other  words  

What  had  he  said  when  the  children  were 
born,  and  he'd  felt  so  filled  with  love  and 
pride  he  could  have  burst  with  it?  And 
Mary's  head  on  the  pillow,  weary,  but  to  him 
more  beautiful  than  angels.  Where  were  the 
words  then?  Unspoken,  buried  under  the 
kiss,  the  awkward  pressure  of  the  hand 

And  where  were  the  words  for  that  awful 
time  in  the  thirties,  when  she'd  made  a  game 
out  of  stretching  the  money,  a  joke  out  of 
stew  and  beans  and  Spanish  rice,  out  of  put- 
ting on  a  patch  or  making  over  a  dress?  He 
would  sit  and  look  at  her  and  think  that  she 
was  wonderful,  that  she  was  like  no  other 
woman  in  the  world;  but  where  were  the 
words  that  would  have  told  her  so? 

For  the  other  things?  The  bedtime  song 
drifting  out  of  the  baby's  room,  the  sleepless 
nights  when  the  children  woke  in  a  night- 
mare, the  shared  terror  when  Jack  came 
down  with  pneumonia.  What  words  had 


there  been  for  the  crisp  cotton  dresses  in  th  • 
morning,  the  hot  coffee  steaming  in  the  cui!  I 
for  the  clean  house  and  sweet-smelling  liner  j  i 
what  words  for  the  smile  that  never  failed?  ;  i 

Something  left  unsaid.  Something?  Ever^  \ 
thing,  Ben  thought  wearily.  Everything  k 
unsaid.  Bui  she  knows.  She  must  know.  She' 
never  been  one  of  those  neurotic  women  whoa, 
ways  need  to  be  reassured.  There  was  never 
time — well,  there  was  that  one  time. 

He  remembered  that  woman — what  wa 
her  name?  Betty?  No,  Binnie.  Binnie  Chan 
dler.  Some  school  friend  of  Mary's. 

She  had  come  to  dinner,  elegant  in  a  blaci 
dress  with  pearls.  Slim  and  worldly  and  beau 
tiful  (and  why  shouldn't  she  be?  There  wen 
no  demanding  children  in  her  world,  n 
steamy  soapsuds  to  straggle  her  hair,  ni 
dishes  to  wash,  no  floors  to  mopj,  she  hadsa 
at  the  table  talking  amusingly,  in  her  light 
just  faintly  patronizing  voice.  She  ha( 
charmed  the  children,  and  brought  into  thi 
house  a  breath  of  something  strange  and  al 
luring,  something  as  exotic  as  her  perfume. 

After  she  had  gone,  Ben  remembered 
Mary  looked  for  a  long  time  in  the  mirror 
and  when  they  had  gone  to  bed  she  turned t( 
Ben  in  the  dark  and  said,  in  a  voice  likez 
child's,  "Oh,  Ben,  Ben,  do  you  love  me?" 

The  question  had  embarrassed  him,  anc 
made  him  angry.  Not  at  Mary,  but  at  Bin- 
nie Chandler,  for  bringing  her  musky  per 
fume  into  his  orderly  house,  for  being  pret 
tier  than  Mary,  looking  younger  than-Mary 
and  sitting  at  his  table  where  Mary  mi| 
look  at  her  and  know  these  things. 

Because  he  was  angry  at  Binnie,  he  spo 
gruffly.  "For  the  love  of  heaven ! " 

She  had  never  asked  him  again. 

That  was  the  answer  he  had  given  her, 
still  he  expected  her  to  know.  Miss  Amet 
young  man  calls  her  Birdbrain  and  the  office 
boy  greets  his  girl  with  a  long  low  whistle,  and 
they  are  supposed  to  know  loo.  The  vocabulary 
of  the  times. 

And  it  wasn't  enough,  Ben  thought. 
Maybe  that  was  why  you  saw  so  many 
women  hurrying  along  in  the  streets,  tv$ 
(Conlinned  on  Page  ISO) 


By  MARCELENE  COX 


A GOOD  home  is  a  place  where  children 
can  do  what  they  like  .  .  .  but  not  to 
somebody  else. 

Everyone  knows  the  kind  of  house  that 
has  too  much  break-a-back. 

Misprint:  "For  her  losing  number,  she 
sang  .  .  ." 

Age  melts  on  the  gentlehearted  like  snow 
upon  a  warm  surface. 

Husband 's  report  on  his  housework  dur- 
ing wife's  absence: 

My  grade    Your  grade 
"Mopping  (all linoleum)  C 

Sweeper  (five  rooms)  B 

Dishes  C 

Wastepaper         Too  windy 

Bedmaking  D 

Dog  A+ 

Garbage  A — 

(Note:  Modesty  gives  you  the  chance  to 
raise  my  grade!) " 

A  woman  can  sympathize  with  a  man's 
love  for  his  old  burned-out  pipe;  she  feels 
the  same  way  about  a  certain  pot  in  the 
kitchen. 


We  no  longer  have  a  special  cleaning  day  ■ 
at  our  house.  We  wait  until  one  of  the 
suitors  announces  his  intended  arrival  and 
then  the  whole  place  is  immediately  put  in 
shining  order. 

The  art  of  making  a  father  feel  appre- 
ciated: popaganda. 

Child-psychology  book:  a  manual  to 
raise  children  without  using  manuals. 

What  a  mother  should  save  for  a  rainy 
day  is  patience. 

Why  is  it  that  everyone  loses  gloves  but 
no  one  ever  finds  any  ? 

A  woman  whose  marriage  failed  says, 
"If  I  were  a  brid^  again,  I  would  learn  to 
estimate  accurately  how  much  housework 
can  be  done  in  a  day;  and  then,  religiously, 
I  would  plan  to  do  only  three  fourths  that 
amount,  thereby  assuring  enough  time  left 
over  for  companionship  with  my  husband." 

In  spring,  little  boys  are  tearing  to  go. 

"Don't  mind  that  telephone  pole, 
mother.  It's  been  hit  before." 


I.  A  I)   I  i; 


"    *>    M    r.      J   <»   IJ    It    N  A  I. 


170 


t 


Scientific  proof!  Using  precise  Tracer  Method 
technique  (above),  university  tests  prove  New 
Fresh  superior  in  keeping  underarms  dry. 


Trigere  designed  her  gown 
of  Alen^on  lace  over  silk  taffeta. 
I  ler  deodorant,  Fresh,  designed 
for  gentler,  surer  protection. 


gentle  JYEW  FRESH  zvill  give  yon  np  to  180%  more  nnderarin  protection 
than  other  leading  cream  deodorants.  Proved  by  university  scientists! 


Now  the  greatest  improvement  in  deodor- 
ants m  years  is  in  New  Fresh.  By  a  skillful 
change  in  formula,  New  Fresh  is  now  up  to 
180%  more  effective  than  other  leading  cream 
deodorants!  It  outperforms  all  the  others  in 
keeping  underarms  dry.  It  stops  odor  com- 
pletely! Yet  it  is  still  as  creamy  soft,  as  extra- 
gentle  to  skin  as  ever! 


Superior  new  formula !  Tracer  Method  Tests 
made  in  a  famous  university  laboratory  prove 
that  the  gentle  new  moisture-control  formula 
in  New  Fresh  is  far  superior  in  astringent 
action  to  other  leading  cream  deodorants! 
And  it's  the  astringent  action  in  deodorants 
that  keeps  underarms  dry . .  .  actually  keeps 
you  and  your  clothes  safer! 


Aicw  f^esfc  keeps  ^^>^  ljy%j^lUj       LcHAe  JifiAAjOA^C. 


Sure,  yet  gende!  Stops  underarm 
odor  instantly  .  .  .  keeps  underarms 
dry.  Creamy,  gende  to  sldn.  Safe  for 
fabrics.  Use  Fresh  daily. 

Fresh  is  also  manufactured  ond  distributed  in  Canoda 


L   A    n    T    F.    S  '       HOME       .]    O    U    U    N   A  L 


Mar 


Doiit  give  an  inch 
to  your  waistline/ 


'''^"'''">H,|,„|,M.„l.„|,„l.i.l'"l"''' 


Counting  calories?  There's  one  treat  you  can 
eat  with  a  clear  conscience.  Instead  of  those 
"heavy"  desserts,  make  a  habit  of  topping  off 
meals  with  tart-sweet  Florida  grapefruit. 

Half  a  Florida  grapefruit  (or  a  tall,  tall  glass  of 
Florida  grapefruit  juice)  is  lower-than-low  in 
calories*,  sky-high  in  the  Vitamin  C  you  need 
every  day  .  .  .  especially  when  dieting  ...  to 
help  you  maintain  bright-eyed  stamina. 

If  dieting  saps  your  energy,  makes  you  irritable, 
you  may  not  be  getting  enough  "C".  It's  one 
vitamin  your  body  doesn't  store,  needs  daily. 


Eat  all  you  want  of  these  ( 


Florida  fresh  grapefruit.  Shipped  on  piclcing 
day  to  reach  you  fresh  and  full  of  Vitamin  C. 

Florida  frozen-concentrated  grapefruit  juice. 

Store  in  freezing  compartment.  Loaded  with 
precious  Vitamin  C. 

Florida  canned  grapefruit  juice  and  sections, 

and  citrus  salad  (orange  and  grapefruit 
sections  mixed).  Economical,  easy  to  serve, 
rich  in  "C"  and  nutritional  values. 

Florida  Citrus  Commission,  Lakeland.  Florida 

rida  Gxapefruit 

So  good,  so  many  way^ 


(Continued  from  Page  17H) 
little  lines  between  their  brows.  Maybe  that 
look  was  on  their  faces  because  they  couldn't 
be  sure,  because  their  men  never  told  them. 
Maybe  the  men  never  would,  until  it  was  too 
late,  and  then  they'd  look  back  and  think,  / 

wish  I'd  lold  her — /  wish  I'd  said  

Ben  felt  suddenly  frightened,  as  if  it  might 
already  be  too  late.  He  reached  for  the  tele- 
phone. 

"Hello,"  Mary  said.  "Ben?  What's  the 
matter? "  Because  he  never  called  during  the 
day  unless  something  was  the  matter. 

And  then  he  felt  foolish,  because  there 
wasn't  any  reason  for  his  call,  and  he  didn't 
have  anything  to  say,  but  hearing  her  voice 
had  reassured  him.  There  was  still  tiine,  and 
tonight  he  would  find  some  way  of  saying 
what  he  felt. 

All  afternoon  phrases  went  through  his 
mind,  bits  and  snatches  of  the  things  that 
Mary  ought  to  know, 
the  things  he  would 
tell  her. 

When  he  drove 
home,  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  lived  on 
the  pleasantest  street 
in  all  America,  and 
his  own  house  was 
the  best-looking 
house  on  the  street, 
the  one  that  looked 
most  like  a  home. 

As  he  went  in  the 
door,  everything  said 
"Mary."  The  scarlet 
leaves  in  a  vase,  the 
draperies  she  had 
made  herself,  the  slip 
cover,  the  table 
scrubbed  and  scraped 
and  varnished,  the 
bookshelves  she  had 
sketched  for  him  to 
iriake  in  the  base- 
ment. 

Don't  thinki haven't 
noticed,  Mary.  Even  if 
I  didn't  think  to  tell 
yon  at  the  lime.  All 
these  things.  Mary. 
Every! hing  in  the 
house.  All  part  of  the 
way  I  love  yon. 

He  was  standing  in 
the  hall  when  she 
came  in  froiri  the 
kitchen,  touching  the 
leaves,  and  he  looked 
up,  startled,  as  if  she 
had  caught  him  in  a 
guilty  act. 

' '  Do  you  like 
them?  "  she  asked.  "  I 

thought  they  brightened  up  the  hall  a  bit." 

He  said,  "Pretty,"  and  calmly  put  his  hat 
in  the  closet,  as  if  he'd  had  no  intention  of 
saying  anything  else. 

There  was  a  chance  to  speak  before  dinner, 
when  she  came  into  the  living  room.  "We're 
just  waiting  for  the  potatoes,"  she  said. 
"They're  hard  characters,  this  batch." 

She  smiled,  and  for  just  a  moment  it 
seemed  to  Ben  that  she  looked  exactly  as  she 
had  in  the  first  days  of  their  marriage.  Some- 
times a  little  girl  will  look  at  you,  and  you 
catch  a  startlingly  clear  glimpse  of  exactly 
the  kind  of  woman  she  will  be;  and  some- 
times, when  a  woman  smiles,  you  see  again 
the  girl  she  was. 

Mary,  you  tvere  so  little,  so  pretty.  I  never 
thought  I  could  love  you  more.  It  didn't  seem 
possible.  But  each  day  adds  something,  each 
year.  I'm  at  the  dangerous  age,  Mary.  I'm  at 
the  age  when  wives  are  afraid  their  husbands 
will  fall  in  love;  and  I  have.  With  you  all  over 
again. 

Mary  asked,  as  he  looked  at  her,  "  Is  there 
another  smudge  on  my  nose?" 

"No,  no,"  he  said  hastUy,  and  something 
came  floating  up  out  of  the  past.  "  I  was  just 
wondering ;  whatever  happened  to  that  blue 
dress  you  used  to  have?  " 

"Blue  dress?  Which  blue  dress?  " 

"You  know,  that  one  that  had  beads  or 
something  on  the  skirt." 


COULD  YOU  SAY  IT  WITTIER? 

Edited  by  John  M.  Henry 

"A  man  is  pretty  safe  if,  when  putting 
his  foot  down,  he  puts  it  in  the  foot- 
steps of  his  wife." 

MRS.  GARTH  CHAMPAGNE,  Ames,  Iowa 

One  great  trouble  with  the  world  to- 
day, especially  on  the  international 
level,  is  that  people  don't  trust  one 
another  ond  have  excellent  reasons 
for  not  doing  so.  olin  miller 

in  the  Chicago  Sun-Times  Syndicate 

A  perfect  husband  is  one  who  needs 
only  a  little  improving. 

FRANKLIN  P.  JONES 

in  The  Saturday  Evening  Post 

Boy  down  the  street,  in  training  with 
the  Dixie  Division,  writes  that  the 
Army  rifle  weighs  9.48  pounds. 
"However,"  he  postscripts,  "after 
you  tote  it  a  few  miles,  the  decimal 
point  drops  out."  tom  ethrioge 
in  Rolling  Fork,  Miss.,  Pilot 

A  woman  was  filling  out  an  accident 
report.  She  had  dented  the  fender 
of  a  parked  car  while  trying  to  park 
her  own.  One  question  on  the  report 
was  "What  could  the  operator  of  the 
other  vehicle  have  done  to  avoid  the 
accident?"  "He  could  have  parked 
somewhere  else,"  wrote  the  woman. 

Holdrege,  Nebraska,  Citizen 


"Beads!"  Mary  said  incredulous! 
then  she  laughed.  "Oh,  you  mean 
ago." 

"I  guess  it  was  quite  a  while  ago." 

"Ages,"  she  said.  She  thought  a  m> 
"Now,  let's  see.  Nancy  wore  it  ono 
Halloween  costume,  and  then  I  think  i 
it  to  the  Salvation  Army.  Although  i 
imagine  what  they  did  with  it.  It  was 
olous  thing."  She  looked  at  him,  her  h 
one  side.  "Now,  Ben,  what  ever  mat 
think  about  that  old  dress?  " 

"Well  ,  I  don't  know.  "His  voice  was 
ble,  because  he  hadn't  said  what  he 
to  say ;  how  he  could  remember  exact 
she  looked  in  it,  the  funny  little  tr 
sound  of  all  those  beads. 

Mary,  you  were  lovely  in  that  dress.  1 
you  shimmer  and  gleam.  And  there  was  i 
velvet  dress  that  I  remember,  with  a  wi 
collar ;  and  a  re, 
and  one  spring 
hat  with  a  wrt 
roses  around  Ik 
I  never  said  how 
I  was  of  you 
proud  I  am 
Sometimes  I  )■ 
noticed  a  new  j 
or  when  you'd  Ch]  > 
hair,  but  if  I  ha 
you  every  ti 
thought  you  I 
lovely,  I  woul^\ 
had  to  say  iievef  \ 
"  I  don't  knot 
I  thought  aboui 
he  repeated  ti, 
Mary  was 
smiling.  "^ 
mind.  Come  c 
dinner." 

They  talke 
trivialities,  but 
the  meal  was ' 
Ben  did  an  ur 
edented  thing.  ] 
feredtodrvthed- 
"Why,  Ben," 
said,  surprised, 
don't  have  tc,' 
that."  " 
"I  know  it, 
said  vehement!', 
just  happen  tc 
like  it,  that's  all 
Actu  ally, 
wanted  to  be 
her;  but  when 
were  at  the  sir 
depressed  him  t 
her  washing 
dishes,  rinsing  t 
putting  them  ii 
rack.  The  bright  kitchen  light  showec 
gray  in  her  hair.  He  hadn't  realized. 

/  meant  to  give  you  so  much,  Mary.  A 
coat,  a  pearl  necklace,  a  trip  to  Europe.  - 
of  your  own,  and  a  maid  to  wash  the  d 
I'll  never  be  able  to  give  them  to  you,  ant 
must  know  it,  but  you've  always  made  me_ 
big  success,  instead  of  just  another  plodol 
am  a  success,  though,  because  I  have  you\ 
the  children.  No  millionaire  has  more  \ 
that.  j 
"What  ever  happened  to  those  dishes' 
were  going  to  get  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly,  s( 
ing  at  a  cracked  saucer  that  he  was  dr; 
"The  ones  with  the  gold  border  or  whai 
it  was." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  They  were  expen 
and  we  don't  really  need  them." 

"  Doggone  it,"  he  said  belligerently. 
didn't  you  get  them?  Too  expensive! 
not  ready  for  the  poorhouse  yet." 

"Well,  I  know,  but  I  just  thought  

"Get  'em!-  Doggone  it,  if  you  want 
get  'em." 

"Maybe;  I'll  see." 

He  said  crossly,  hanging  up  the  dish  tc 
"Ought  to ^ get  what  you  want  once  : 
while." 

He  left  the  kitchen  and  wandered  al 
the  house  restlessly,  turning  the  televi 
set  on  and  off,  looking  out  the  window 
nothing,  coming  to  look  over  Mary's  sh 
der  as  she  sat  writing  to  the  boys. 


.to 


(till 


II     t)     M  I, 


I    ')    V    l(    N    A  1. 


I  U  I 


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"For  pity's  sake.  Ik-n,"  hIic  said  linally, 
and  lie  retired  iM-liind  ilie  evening  |)a|V-r,  lo 
;tr(.;iie  it  out  Willi  liimseif. 

He  lnj^!hl  think  llie  words,  Ixil  they 
wouldn't  come  out.  If  he  could  just  start  out 
simply.  "Mary.  I  just  wanted  to  tell 
you  .  .  .  I've  been  thinkini^  ,  ,  .  1  never  said 
thisix-'fore  "  Mayhx- just  plain,  "Mary,  I 
love  you."  He  sat  behind  the  pa|KT,  staruu; 
bhndly  al  the  |)rinled  words,  :ind  when  the 
dock  chimed  it  was  a  terrible  sound.  Time 
passing,  and  everylhinK  l<:fl  unsjiid  .  .  .  ev- 
crylhinK  left  unsaid. 

"Ben." 

"What?  What,  Mary?" 

She  was  KatherinK  up  the  i)a|x:r8,  cmpty- 
inK  the  ash  trays,  as  she  always  did  at  Ixd- 
lime.  "I  was  Ix-'ninniiiK  to  think  you'd  none 
lo  sleep." 

".lusl  reading  the  pa|KT." 

She  smiled.  "You  haven't  iK-en  turning 
any  paKCS." 

lien  couKhed,  "Well,  maytx;  I  was  doz- 
ing." 

"  Ready  lo  come  lo  bed  ?  " 
"I  Kiit-'ss  so," 

She  was  lurnin^  out  the  lamps,  one  by 
one.  There  was  only  the  liuhl  from  the  hall, 
and  the  one  by  his  chair.  'l"he  house  was 
(luiet  and  Ihe  liuhl  was  soft,  and  if  he  was 
ever  uoing  lo  lei!  her,  this  was  the  lime.  This 
was  the  lime-  the  time  

"  Mary ! "  It  came  out  louder  than  he'd  in- 
tended. It  was  like  a  voice  coming  from  a  dis- 
tance, like  a  call  for  help.  She  turned  in  the 
doorway,  anxiously, 

"Yes,  Ben,  What  is  it?" 

Oh.  the  words  were  there,  but  they  tangled 
in  his  throat.  They  stuck  there,  unwilling  lo 

come  out.  Mary,  I  love  you  /  only  waul  lo 

tell  you  Oh,  Mary,  Mary  

"Yes,  Ben?"  She  was  waiting  for  iiim  to 
speak. 

There  was  a  pain  in  his  throat  now.  "It's 
nothing,"  he  said.  "It's  just  ...  I  thought  I 
heard  the  wind  blowing  up.  It's— it's  almost 
autumn,  Mary." 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  long  time,  and  it 
was  a  look  of  such  tenderness,  such  love  that 
he  could  scarcely  bear  it.  Then  she  came 
over  to  him,  and  kissed  his  forehead  gently, 
and  said: 

"Yes,  Ben,  darling.  Yes,  it  is." 

And  the  tenderness  was  in  her  kiss,  and  in 
her  voice,  and  Ben  knew  then  that  even  if  he 
never  said  the  words,  even  if  he  never  told 
her  what  was  in  his  heart,  she  knew. 


l  OrXi;  UOME-IU  ILIIEKN 

(Continued  from  Page  16 Ij 

Then  waxing  with  hard  paste  wax — four 
coats.  It's  hard  work,  but  it's  worth  it.  (We 
ordered  2  pint  of  stain  and  '  2  pint  of  wax 
for  $2.00  from  a  place  in  Massachusetts.) 
Last  of  all,  we  removed  the  brass  handles 
from  the  chest,  cleaned  them  with  brass 
polish  and  steel  wool,  coated  them  with  clear 
nail  polish  to  guard  against  tarnish,  and  put 
them  back  on  the  chest." 

Phonograph.  "Our  phonograph  and  record 
player  started  out  as  a  kitchen  cabinet  (33" 
high— 373  2"  X  22"  on  top)  in  unfinished 
white  pine,  which  we  ordered  from  Sears, 
Roebuck  for  $15.00.  The  first  thing  we  did 
was  to  have  a  carpenter  finish  ofT  the  top 
and  bottom  with  strips  of  double-curve  ogee 
molding.  (Cost  of  this  operation,  $6.00.) 
We  fitted  the  phonograph  into  the  upper 
left-hand  side,  taking  out  the  bottom  of  the 
left-hand  drawer  to  give  the  record-player 
spindle  enough  room.  Below,  on  the  left, 
there  is  plenty  of  room  for  storing  records. 
We'took  our  radio  from  the  small  cabinet  it 
was  in,  and  put  it  on  the  top  shelf  at  the 
right  of  the  new  cabinet— faced  it  over  with 
poster  board,  with  holes  carefully  cut  in  to 
allow  the  controls  to  come  through.  The 
speaker  went  below,  on  the  lower  right.  We 
then  painted  the  entire  cabinet  with  a  dark- 
ish-green flat  paint,  followed  it  with  a  coat 
of  shellac,  and  a  rubdown  with  steel  wool. 
Then  a  good  waxing.  We  decorated  the  out- 
side with  decals  in  an  attractive  Pennsylvania 
Dutch  design."  the  end 


THE  OlDEST  -AND  STIU  THE  MOST  DEPENDAIIE  NAME  IN  STEAM  HONS 


STEAM-O-MA 

AND  DRY 


NEWl 

PUSH  THE  BUnON 
FROM  STEAM  TO  DRY 
\H  10  ll^OH^l 


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TELL  ME,  DOCTOR 

(Continued  from  Page  39) 


know.  It  isn't  enough  just  to  know  that  you 
don't  gel  hay  fever  from  golden  rod.  I've 
known  a  woman  to  be  terribly  allergic  to 
cotton— ordinary  cotton  bed  sheets,  for  in- 
stance, so  common  a  thing  that  everyone 
overlooked  it." 

"I  had  my  allergies  thoroughly  tested  out 
last  year." 

"All  the  scratches?" 

"All  the  kinds  of  scratches  that  anyone 
could  think  of,  I  imagine.  They  didn't  find 
anything." 

"I'll  accept  that  because  I  think  I  have  a 
more  likely  cause.  Endocrines  we  must  not 
lose  sight  of,  though  the  fact  that  your  men- 
strual periods  are  regular  and  normal  in 
length,  in  spite  of  the  pain,  argues  against  an 
endocrine  factor.  And  that  leaves  the  most 
likely,  and  certainly  one  of  the  commonest 
causes  of  all  for  painful  menstruation — the 
ordinary  menstrual  mechanics.  And  here  I 
am  positive  I  have  found  something." 

"  I  wish  you'd  explain  it  to  me,  Doctor." 

"First,  I'm  going  to  have  to  take  the  time 
to  give  you  a  lesson  in  physiology,  abbrevi- 
ated though  it  may  be." 

"  Maybe  you  won't  have  to  take  so  much 
time  as  you  think.  I've  read  up  pretty  thor- 
oughly on  female  physiology." 

"Good  girl!  Then  you  should  know  all 
about  the  menstrual  cycle  and  the  part  the 
pituitary  gland  takes  in  it,  and  all  that." 

"Yes,  Doctor,  I  think  so." 

"Good.  Now  at  some  time  in  every  month 
there  arrives  that  part  of  the  menstrual  cycle 
/>R'hen  the  uterine  lining  is  cast  off  and  ex- 
pelled into   the  vaginal 
canal;  this  constitutes  the 
menstrual  flow.  Normally, 
it  should  be  a  simple  phys- 
iological function  accom- 
panied by  a  minimum  of 
discomfort.  Such  a  happy 
condition   presupposes  a 
free  passage  through  an 
unobstructed  uterine  ca- 
nal. 

"Suppose,  on  the  con- 
trary, there  does  exist  an  obstruction,  however 
small  it  may  be.  It  could  consist  of  a  slight  nar- 
rowing of  the  canal  near  its  outlet  due,  say.  to 
some  minor  inflammatory  factor,  or  to  some 
small  degree  of  congestion,  or  perhaps  just  a 
thickened  production  of  cells.  1 1  wouldn't  have 
to  be  a  large  obstruction  to  make  lots  of  trou- 
ble at  one  point,  just  about  where  the  neck  of 
the  uterus  joins  its  body.  Instead  of  an  easy, 
steady  flow  it  would  require  considerable  ef- 
fort on  the  part  of  the  uterine  body,  which  is 
composed  entirely  of  muscle  fibers,  to  expel 
its  contents.  There  is  one  of  the  most  poten- 
tial sources  of  pain  in  menstruating  women. 

"  It  doesn't  have  to  be  a  very  extensive  ob- 
struction to  cause  trouble — just  enough  to 
impede  the  menstrual  flow  which  Nature  is 
attempting  to  start.  After  the  first  day  Na- 
ture will  probably  be  successful,  the  obstruc- 
tion will  be  to  a  degree  obliterated  and  the 
pain  will  be  ended,  or  at  least  mitigated.  In 
your  case  there  is  an  additional  factor." 

"  I  suppose  you  can  actually  see,  or  feel,  a 
narrow  spot  in  the  uterine  canal,  as  you 
described." 


Sometimes,  but  not  always.  It  is  fre- 
quently so  small  as  to  defy  demonstration. 
How  do  I  know  it  is  there,  then?  Because  a 
thorough  dilation  of  the  uterine  canal  will  re- 
lieve, at  least  temporarily,  a  high  percentage 
of  these  cases.  Another  way  I  know  is  from 
the  fact  that  most  of  these  cases  of  dys- 
menorrhea, painful  menstruation,  have  radi- 
cal relief  from  the  time  their  first  baby  is  de- 
livered. Because  the  delivery  accomplishes  a 
thorough  dilation  of  the  cervical  canal." 

"Then  if  I  get  married  and  have  a  baby,  I 
will  have  no  more  menstrual  pain  and  I 
won't  have  to  have  any  operation." 

"I  couldn't  promise  that,  but  I  will  say 
that  it  is  unlikely." 

"But  I  don't  expect  to  get  married  for  a 
long  time." 

"There  still  remains  dilation,"  the  doctor 
told  her. 


There  is  no  lovelier  way  to 
thanic  God  for  your  sight, 
than  by  giving  a  helping 
hand  to  someone  in  the 
darlc. 


—HELEN  KELLER 


"But  you  said  that  wouldn't  be  perma- 
nent." 

"It  might  be— I  couldn't  tell  about  that. 
In  any  case,  the  treatment  could  be  re- 
peated, if  necessary.  However,  with  you 
there  is  the  other  factor  I  mentioned,  which 
I  will  try  to  explain.  The  ordinary  uterus  has 
a  very  slight  bend  in  the  long  axis  of  its  body. 
In  your  case,  however,  the  bend  is  much 
more  acute,  so  that  the  long  axis  of  the  uterus 
is  shaped  something  like  a  letter  c.  I  think 
there's  little  doubt  of  its  being  a  factor  in 
your  trouble." 

"What  can  be  done  about  it.  Doctor?" 
the  patient  asked. 

"The  same  treatment  I  have  already  de- 
scribed. Thorough  dilation  of  the  cervical 
canal,  possibly  accompanied  by  curettement 
of  the  uterine  canal." 

"Why  coes  the  curettement  have  to  be?" 

It  might  not  be  needed.  However,  curette- 
ment might  remove  thickened  or  congested 
membrane  which  otherwise  could  find  its 
way  out  only  with  difficulty.  Some  doctors 
insert  a  plug  after  the  dilation,  which  remains 
for  some  weeks  and  tends  to  keep  the  uterine 
body  straight  and  the  canal  open." 

"Then  you  don't  approve  of  the  operation 
my  doctor  mentioned  in  his  letter?" 

"  I  don't  approve  of  it  for  you,  at  least  not 
at  this  time." 

"  Why,  I  understood  it  was  one  of  the  lat- 
est things,  and  dead  sure  to  work." 

"There's  httle  doubt  that  it  would  work. 
As  to  being  one  of  the  latest  developments  of 
surgery,  it  is  far  from 
that.  You  will  find  resec- 
tion of  the  presacral  nerves, 
in  severe  cases  of  dysmen- 
orrhea when  all  conserva- 
tive measures  have  failed, 
recommended  in  any  good 
surgical  text  of  a  decade 
ago.  Ordinarily  a  surgical 
text  ten  years  old  is  worth 
just  about  four  cents  a 
pound  for  the  paper  that 
is  in  it.  No,  I  don't  recommend  presacral 
neurectomy  in  your  case. 

"In  the  first  place,"  the  doctor  went  on, 
"it  is  a  major  operation  permanently  sever- 
ing important  nerve  structures;  and  it  seems 
a  shame  to  be  so  radical  in  dealing  with  a 
young  girl  like  you,  who'll  probably  be  mar- 
ried in  a  year  or  two,  raise  a  family  and  be 
rid  of  this  curse  of  menstrual  pain  with  the 
birth  of  her  first  child.  If  there  were  no  other 
recourse,  I  can  see  how  your  monthly  suffer- 
ing might  be  so  great  as  to  warrant  any- 
thing being  done — anjything.  We  believe  that 
relief  can  be  obtained  by  a  much  more  con- 
servative procedure,  consuming  less  time, 
expense  and  even  with  less  personal  danger. 
If  you  were  some  poor  old  woman  suffering 
from  an  incurable,  inoperable  pelvic  cancer, 
I'd  say  by  all  means  cut  the  nerves  and 
give  relief.  With  a  young  girl  like  you,  I 
agree  with  Doctor  Tint  that  it  would  be 
radical  treatment,  to  be  used  only  as  a  last 
resort ;  I  think  we  ought  to  try  the  other  first — 
and  that's  what  I'm  going  to  write  him." 

"  I  know  that  he  will  follow  out  whatever 
line  of  treatment  you  suggest,  Doctor." 

"  I  shall  be  interested  to  hear  how  this  case 
comes  out.  Miss  Beige.  I  wish  you'd  drop  me 
a  line  after  a  few  months,  and  let  me  know 
how  you  are  getting  on." 

"Indeed  I  will.  Doctor.  I  only  hope  the 
relief  won't  be  too  temporary." 

"I'm  pretty  certain  it  will  last  for  a  year 
or  two,  and  that  might  suffice.  Even  if- the 
minor  oj)eration  had  to  be  repeated  at  some 
future  time,  it  would  be  a  lesser  ordeal  than 
the  major  one.  And  that  neurectomy  could 
always  be  done  in  the  event  of  complete 
failure  of  other  means." 

"That  is  true.  Doctor.  Thank  you  so  much 
for  all  the  time  you've  given  me.  And  you 
will  write  to  my  doctor?" 

"This  very  day,  I  promise  you." 

Tell  Me,  Doctor  will  be  published  in  book  form  by 
Didier  Publisher,  660  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  21  — 
price,  S.'i.-'>0. 


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SEE  WHERE  YOU'RE  CLEANING 

For  best  results,  SPONGE  on 
a  thin  coat  of  "GLASS  WAX" 
with  a  damp  cellulose  sponge. 
You  see  it  go  on  . . .  never  skip 
dirt .  The  SPONGE  reaches  every 
corner,  cleans  every  square  inch. 
"GLASS  WAX"  dries  in  a  jiffy, 
cleans  quicker,  easier,  better. 

SEE  HOW  SPARKLING  CLEAN 

Now  wipe  off  the  dry  "GLASS 
WAX".  Dirt  disappears  too— 
"GLASS  WAX"  absorbs  every 
bit  of  it.  Your  windows  come 
shining,  sparkling,  crystal-clear. 
No  streaks,  no  misses.  Wonder- 
ful inside  and  outside! 


CUTS  TIME  AND  WORK  IN  HALF.  Not  just  one  but  8 
ctiemicals  combine  to  dissolve  every  kind  of  grease, 
grit,  soot,  dirt.  No  fuss,  no  muss — and  "GLASS  WAX" 
keeps  windows  clean  longer.  EXTRA:  "GLASS  WAX" 
polishes  mirrors,  silverware,  chrome,  tile,  porce/a/n. 


ALSO  S9i  AND  98< 


wood  cream"  *no  gold  seal  are  traoe  maqks.  qouo  seal  co.,  BtsMAitCK,  m 


SECRET  OF  SOFT,  LUSTROUS 

natural 
furniture 
beauty 

CLEANS  FIRST— THEN  POIISHES 


■  WAS  TOO  FAT  TO  HAVE  A  BABY!" 

(Continued  from  Page  176) 


In  the  beginning,  we  were  simijly  surprised 
at  the  unexpected  delay  in  getting  our  family 
started.  But  as  lime  passed,  surprise  turned 
into  apprehension  and  finally,  for  me,  real 
fear.  Suppose  I  never  have  a  baby!  At  the  end 
of  our  first  year  of  marriage,  I  took  my  wor- 
ries to  a  doctor.  His  nurse  recorded  my  weight 
at  something  over  200  pounds.  The  doctor 
gave  me  a  thorough  physical  examination, 
then  asked  me  questions  about  my  general 
health.  I  had  never  had  any  serious  illness, 
but  I  mentioned  what  I  considered  to  be 
"two  minor  health  complaints":  1— I  felt 
tired  a  good  deal  of  the  time;  2 —Severe 
cramps  accompanied  my  extremely  irregular 
menstrual  periods.  He  listened  with  apparent 
interest  and  sympathy,  then  said; 

"You  appear  to  be  in  perfect  health,  Mrs. 
Albrecht.  I  see  no  reason  why  you  cannot 
have  a  baby.  Go  home— and  stop  worrying ! " 

My  husband  and  I  were  immensely  re- 
lieved and  encouraged  to  hear  such  good 
news.  Once  again  we  planned  for  the  baby 
we  believed  we  would 
have.  But  a  year  went 
by  without  success. 
Frustrated  and  disap- 
pointed, I  consulted  a 
second  doctor.  Follow- 
ing a  thorough  exami- 
nation, he  confirmed 
the  first  doctor's  diag- 
nosis. Again  Syl  and  I 
believed  and  planned  — 
but  to  no  avail.  With 
mixed  feelings  of  hope— 
and  hopelessness  — I 
persisted  in  seeking 
medical  help.  Two  more 
doctors  saw  me,  ex- 
amined me  and  waved 
me  out  of  their  offices 
with  the  now  familiar, 
"Don't  worry,  Mrs. 
Albrecht,  you're  in  good 
health.  No  reason  why 
you  cannot  have  a 
baby." 

None  of  their  opti- 
mistic forecasts  came 
true.  By  now  we  had 
been  married  four  years. 
As  much  as  Syl  and  I 
tried  to  console  each 
other  or  pretend  it 
didn't  really  make  so 
much  difference,  dis- 
illusionment clouded 
our  otherwise  perfectly 
happy  marriage. 

Gradually  we  began 
to  feel  like  outsiders 
among  most  of  our 
young  married  friends. 
Their  little  families 
were  well  under  way  and  the  "baby  talk" 
that  crept  into  (or  dominated)  every  social 
get-together  unintentionally  but  automat- 
ically excluded  the  "childless  Albrechts."  As 
a  result,  Syl  and  I  alternated  between  declin- 
ing our  friends'  invitations  and  feeling  left 
out— or  accepting  them  at  the  cost  of  reveal- 
ing the  envy  we  could  no  longer  conceal. 

One  day  late  in  November,  1950,  when  I 
was  feeling  particularly  tired  and  unnerved, 
a  fearful  thought  entered  my  head.  Some- 
thin^  is  radically  wrong  with  my  health.  Per- 
haps it  is  kindheartedness  which  keeps  the  doc- 
tors from  telling  me.  Tearful  and  frightened,  I 
went  to  the  telephone  and  made  an  appoint- 
ment for  the  next  afternoon  to  see  a  doctor  I 
had  not  seen  before. 

I  told  this  doctor  of  the  worries  that  had 
mounted  over  the  years  to  culminate  in  this 
terrible  belief  that  I  must  be  ill.  He  seemed 
to  sense  my  deep  concern  and  listened  pa- 
tiently to  all  I  had  to  say.  Then  he  examined 
and  weighed  me,  and  called  a  hospital  to 
make  an  appointment  for  me  to  have  a  basal- 
metabolism  test  on  the  following  morning.  I 
was  to  return  to  his  office  the  next  day  to 
learn  the  results.  Vastly  relieved  at  having 
had  a  chance  to  tell  my  troubles  to  this 
kindly,  interested  man,  I  went  back  to  his 


No  Other  Love 

Itii  Klizuhvtli  Jif^'arlamt 

Your  gentleness  has  softened  all 

my  days. 
When  you  bend  toward  me  your 

warm  curving  mind, 
You  calm  the  thoughts  that  one 

time  coiled  and  twined; 
My  name  is  first  of  those  I  hear 

you  praise; 
In  every  room  of  yours  my  chair  I 
find  — 

And  you  know  surer  ways  of  being 
kind. 

Yet  still  in  dreams  I  see  your 

coin-pure  face 
Cut  out  in  stone  and  set  where 

torches  hiss, 
Washed  in  the  sun,  as  in  a 

legend's  mist, 
Borne  up  by  wreaths,  high  in  a 

flag-filled  place. 
While  I,  forgot,  shake  ravenous 

for  your  kiss : 
The  first  is  peace.  There  is  no 
love  but  this. 


office  in  better  spirits  and  with  more  optimisn 
than  I  had  felt  for  a  long,  long  time. 

"Mrs.  Albrecht,"  he  began,  "  I  believe  yoi 
are  in  good  health.  Your  metabolism  is  nor 
mal.  There  is  no  reason  to  suspect  that  lacli 
of  thyroid  is  causing  your  trouble.  Truthfully 

I  do  not  see  why  you  cannot  " 

My  heart  sank  at  the  sound  of  these  fa- 
miliar words. 

"  cannot  have  a  baby,"  he  continued, 

"except  for  this^I  think  you  are  too  fat  to 
have  a  baby!" 

I  couldn't  believe  my  ears.  Not  one  of  the 
other  doctors  had  mentioned  my  excessive| 
weight  as  a  possible  cause  of  my  troubleJ 
"  But,  doctor,"  I  protested,  "  I  have  been  fatJ  \ 
ever  since  I  was  a  child.  I'm  just  naturally! 
fat  —the  way  some  women  are  just  naturally! , 
thin."  ij 
"  It  isn't  natural  for  a  woman  5'6"  tall  to" 
weigh  237  pounds;  137  is  more  like  it.  Lose! 
that  extra  100  pounds  and  I'll  wager  you'll 
become  a  mother  within  a  reasonable  time."-! 

I  could  have  shouted,j 
with  glee.  For  the  firsts 
time,  a  doctor  had  sug-1 
gested  a  constructive] 
plan  for  me  to  follow,  j 
Even  if  it  didn't  work,^! 
I  knew  I  would  feel' 
better  for  having  tried' 
something.  . 

"In  addition,"  the| 
doctor  went  on,  "I  be- 
lieve such  a  loss  of 
weight  will  simultane- 
ously regulate  your  en- 
docrine balance  and 
thus  eliminate  the  ab- 
normal irregularity  and 
pain  you  are  now  suf- 
fering with  your  men- 
strual periods.  It  goes 
without  saying,  of 
course,  that  once  you  1 
have  shed  your  heavy  1 
weight  burden  you 
won't  have  so  much  to 
feel  tired  about !" 

In  the  next  half  hour, 
the  doctor  and  I  went 
over  my  diet  plan.  I  ■ 
was  not  to  exceed  800  ^ 
calories  a  day.  I  was  i 
not  to  substitute  foods  ] 
of  less  or  different  nu- 
tritional value  for  those 
listed  in  the  diet,  since 
to  do  so  would  disturb 
the  careful  balance  of 
protein,  carbohydrate 
and  fat  the  diet  con- 
tained. I  was  not  to  lose 
more  than  an  average 
of  21-2  pounds' a  week. 
Finally,  I  was  told  to  report  to  the  doctor's 
office  once  every  two  weeks  so  that  he  could 
check  my  progress  and  keep  an  eye  out  for 
any  danger  which  might  result  from  a  possible 
vitamin  deficiency. 

I  started  my  diet  that  evening— November  j 
30,  1950.  Dinner  consisted  of  a  single  lamb 
chop,  half  a  baked  potato,  green  beans,  grape- 
fruit sections  on  lettuce,  and  black  coffee.  A 
far  cry  from  the  creamed  concoctions,  hearty 
helpings  and  rich  desserts  I  was  accustomed 
to  having!  By  September  1,  1951,  I  had  lost 
107  pounds.  Three  months  later,  I  became 
pregnant.  Our  son  was  born  September  10, 
1952.  All  my  doctor's  wonderful  predictions 
came  true.  As  a  result  of  my  weight  loss,  my 
periods  are  painless,  occurring  regularly  ev- 
ery twenty-eight  days.  Far  from  being  the 
tired,  listless  girl  I.  used  to  be,  I  now  get 
around  with  the  kind  of  speed  and  energy  I 
never  knew  existed! 

I  will  say  the  first  few  months  of  dieting 
were  very  difficult.  It  took  will  power  and  the 
ever-present  vision  of  my  goal  to  keep  me 
from  accepting  the  freshly  baked  chocolate 
cake  or  savory  apple  pie  my  hostesses  would 
offer  me  in  the  beginning.  But  I  knew  if  I 
cheated  once,  I  was  not  playing  fair  to  that 
baby  Syl  and  I  wanted  so  much. 


EYES  TIRED? 

TWO  DROPS -QUICK  RELIEF 


When  yc.^iir  oyo:;  soein  dull  diid 
full  of  sleep,  relief  comes  in 
seconds  with  just  two  drops  of 
Murine  in  each  eye.  Murine's 
seven  tested  ingredients  cleanse 
and  soothe  your  eyes  as  gently 
as  a  tear  so  the  feeling  of 
fatigue  seems  to  float  away. 
Try  it  today.  Murine  makes  ^ 
your  eyes  feel  good! 


MURINE 

-for  your  eyes 

KrCISTERKD  U.  S.  PATEN  I   Oi  l  ICE 


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I  have  wonderful  a)-operalivo  friends. 

VVheti  ihcy  realized  how  very  serious  I  was, 
Ihey  st()i)i)ed  serving  the  pastries,  yxiXMo 
chi|)s,  cookies  and  sweet  sf»ft  drinks  wo  were 
accustomed  to  havill^;  at  our  s<K'ial  uel- 
toKetliers.  'Hiey  substituted  fresh  fruit  or  un- 
sweetened fiuit  juice  lea  or  coffee,  iced  or 
hot,  (k'peiidin^;  U|xm  the  weatlier.  (Some  of 
the  chuhhier  ^;l^ls  were  deh^hted  to  lind 
they,  t(M),  were  k)siIl^;  .a  lit  He  weight  as  a  re- 
sult of  my  diet !) 

My  presenl  weiulil  is  KiO  poiiiuls.  (I  ^^aiiicd 
3)  iMHiiids  during  iny  prev.iiaru'y.  but  k>sl 
Iheni  (|uile  effortkssly  within  two  months 
after  Stt'i)lien  was  liorn.)  My  measurements 
are:  i)usl,  waist,  2.^)";  iiips,  'Mi".  IJefore 
my  diet  I  measured  from  "top  to  t)ottom" 
12",  48".  My  dress  size  has  dwindletl 
from  a  matronly  Size  12  to  a  youthful  Size 
14    or  a  junior  WW 

The  hai)|)iness  I  derive  from  my  tremen- 
(knis  weiKhl  loss  is  evident  in  almost  every 
|)liase  of  my  life.  For  the  first  lime,  my  hus- 
band and  I  dancing  in  public  |)lace8.  I 
wear  briuhl,  Kay  ciotiies  wilhoul  feeling  as 
lliounh  I  l(K)k  like  I  lie  side  of  a  barn !  When  a 
birthday  or  anniversary  comes  uji  I  can  say 
to  my  relatives  and  husband.  "I'lease  no 
more  practical  household  ^ifls.  I  want  some 
pretty,  sheer  lingerie  -  or  a  blouse ! "  Things  I 
never  dared  wear  lx;fore. 

Nowadays  I  can  apiiear  on  a  beach  in  a 
bathing  suit  with  reasonable  i)ride  in  my  slim 
figure.  In  my  predict  days  Syl  and  I  were 
"evening  swimmers,"  going  to  the  beach 
when  all  other  bathers  had  left  so  that  I 
might  escape  the  embarrassment  of  being 
seen  and  laughed  at. 

I  know  my  husband  used  to  love  me  sin- 
cerely despite  my  cumbersome  size.  But  I 
can't  mistake  the  new  and  obvious  pride  and 
pleasure  he  feels  in  his  family  today! 

Kulli  AlbrtM'lil'N  ll«Mlu4*in^  l*lan 

I 

The  800-calorie  reducing  diet  outlined 
bek)w  is  the  one  Mrs.  Albrecht's  doctor  gave 
her  to  use  as  a  guide  in  working  out  her 
successful  reducing  routine. 

Her  own  imaginative  touch  gave  variety 
to  her  diet  menus.  For  example:  Her  daily  al- 
lotment of  cheese  became  the  basis  for  tasty 
luncheon  salads.  Raw  vegetables  were  some- 
times forsaken  at  main  meals  in  favor  of  be- 
ing kept  chilled  in  the  refrigerator  for  between- 
meal  bites.  Broiled  mushrooms  or  broiled  to- 
matoes often  joined  her  lean  meats  to  make  a 
more  flavorful  dinner.  Baked  grapefruit  be- 
came a  special  dessert.  On  lazy  Sundays, 
when  she  would  have  two  meals  a  day  in- 
stead of  three,  her  cube  of  yellow  cheese  was 
saved  to  melt  over  her  toast  for  breakfast— 
or  into  her  baked  potato  for  dinner.  Tea  with 
lemon  revived  her  energy  and  her  spirits  on 
busy  afternoons.  Cafe  an  lail  (equal  parts 
hot  skim  milk  and  black  coffee)  turned  into 
another  soothing  between-meals  favorite. 

Ruili  i\lbr«M'lii*j<  nu-i  <>uMiii«> 

BltHAKVA!iT 

Fresh  fruit— medium  serving 
1  egg  (boiled  or  poached) 
1  slice  toast,  thinly  buttered 
1  glass  skim  milk 
Coffee— plain,  if  desired 

LUNCH 

1  egg 

Cottage  cheese,  2  tablespoons  (or  1  cube 

yellow  cheese) 
1  glass  skim  milk 
1  vegetable  (average  serving) 
1  large  serving  fresh  fruit  (no  sugar  added) 

DINIVER 

1  serving  lean  meat 
1-2  potato 

2  vegetables  (average  servings) 

1  serving  fresh  fruit  (1  small  orange  or  \4 

apple  or  '  2  pear  or  '  2  grapefruit) 
Tea  or  coffee— plain,  if  desired 

Choose  from  these  vegetables: 
Lettuce,  cucumbers,  spinach,  asparagus,  en- 
dive, celery,  mushrooms,  tomatoes,  Brussels 
sprouts,  water  cress,  cauliflower,  radishes, 
cabbage,  onions. 


She's  chic  on  a  budget 

She  uses  Eaton's  Open  Stock 
POST  PREFERRED 

.  ■flic's  known  for  her  gootl  taste  and  her  smart 
.chopping  for  value.  .No  wonder  her  choice  i*  an 
Eaton  Open  Slock  Letter  [•'upcr  with  matching  paper 

and  envelopes  always  available.  .She  buys  paper  or 
envelojies  as  needeil  (they're  »old  HCparatcly)  wa«te« 

nothing,  never  has  to  apologi/i:  for  niia-matchcd  letters. 
Katon's  Post  Preferred  i.s  an  airy-light  travel  wonder, 
perfect  for  long,  long  letters,  for  air  mail.  The  crisp 
envelopes  are  tissue  lined  to  keep  your  messages  private. 
White,  Blue,  Grey,  Tan.  At  fine  stores,  everywhere. 

ITt  do  not  lell  direct 

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Matching  envelopes,  cither  size,  25  to  the  package,  50c 

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In  Canada:  Deluxe  Uph.  Co.,  Ltd.   •  Waterloo,  Onl. 


March^  J9 


HOW  FLORENCE  DELFINO  LOST 
25  POUNDS...AS  MILLIONS  SAW 
HER  DO  IT  ON  TELEVISION 

Knox  Eat-and-Reduce  (all-food,  no-drug)  Plan  Provides  3  Good 
Meals  a  Day. .  .Without  Pills,  Wafers,  Exercise  or  Hunger 


Before:  IBlVb  pounds^—     After  Starting:  152  pounds 


■J 


Finish:  136 '4  pounds 


MRS.  DELFINO  SAYS:  -i  can 

hardly  believe  my  minor.  Not  long  ago 
I  was  shapelessly  stout.  I  couldn't  wear 
the  new  fashions.  I  was  simply  miser- 
able. I  tried  many  ways  to  reduce  but 
they  didn't  help  me.  And  then  I  started 
on  the  Knox  Gelatine  Eat-and-Reduce 
Plan.  ]  shall  always  bless  that  day. 


"This  amazing,  easy  plan  reduced  my 
weight  25  pounds.  Reduced  my  bust  4 
inches,  my  waist  3V2  inches,  my  hips 
6'/2  inches.  The  pleasant  Eat-and-Re- 
duce diet  was  like  a  dream.  Three  de- 
licious meals  a  day  with  eggs,  meats, 
desserts  and  most  everything  I  like.  Not 
an  hour  of  hunger  or  discomfort." 


Eat  Your  Fill  and  Lose  2  to  5  Pounds  a  Week 

Mrs.  Deltino,  Stamford,  Connecticut,  housewife,  is  only  one  of 
the  great  many  thousands  of  grateful  people  who  have  achieved 
glamorous  slimness  with  the  proved  Knox  Gelatine  Eat-and- 
Reduce  Plan  —  the  only  reducing  plan  proved  dramatically  to 
millions  on  television.  If  you  are  overweight  because  of  too 
many  calories,  you,  too,  may  reduce  easily  and  safely  while 
enjoying  three  good  meals  a  day. 


Knox,  the  real,  unflavored  Gelatine  is  the  key  to  this  new-day  Reduc- 
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 1 


Choose  from  these  fruits : 

Apples,  apricots,  cantaloupes,  grapefruit,  or- 
anges, peaches,  pears,  pineapples,  plums,  tan- 
gerines. 

Diet  Rulos 

Meat  may  be  boiled,  broiled  or  roasted. 
Eat  no  fried  food,  pastries,  puddings,  and  so 
on. 

Use  no  lard  or  butter  in  cooking. 
Prepare  vegetables  without  milk,  oil  or  dress- 
ing. 

Water  may  be  taken  as  desired,  also  tea  and 

coffee  without  cream  or  sugar. 
Salt,  pepper  and  vinegar  may  be  used  as 

desired. 

The  important  thing  about  this  diet  is  to 
keep  the  protein  content  and  the  calories  un- 
changed. You  may  make  substitutions  of  one 
item  of  food  for  another  item  if  the  protein 
content  and  calorie  value  are  the  same. 

You  may  use  this  low-calorie  salad  dress- 
ing: ^2  pint  mineral  oil  beaten  into  1  egg 
yolk  slowly.  Add  1  tablespoon  catchup  or 
chili  sauce,  and  salt,  pepper,  mustard  and 
paprika  to  taste. 

FORTKAIT  OF 
DORA  MAAR 

(Continued  from  Page  52) 

critics  who  has  written,  "People  who  try  to 
explain  pictures  are  usually  barking  up  the 
wrong  tree."  Yet  a  recent  list  of  books  and 
articles  on  Picasso  includes  550  items,  a  rec- 
ord in  the  history  of  contemporary  art. 

Contradictions  equally  curious  appear  in 
Picasso's  work.  He  began  by  creating  some 
of  the  loveliest,  the  most  moving  images  of 
the  twentieth  century:  a  mother  sheltering 
her  child,  a  family  of  circus  people,  a  young 
horseman  against  the  sea,  a  blind  beggar— all 
painted  with  a  pervading  tone  of  blue.  The 
dominant  color  changed  gradually  from  blue 
to  rose.  Then  followed  his  discovery  of 
Iberian  and  African  fetishes,  and  his  can- 
vases became  monstrous  nightmares  of  prim- 
itive fantasy.  Primitivism  merged  into  Cub- 
ism, and  natural  forms  were  disintegrated 
and  recombined  to  create  geometric  and 
prismatic  patterns.  After  some  years  he  re- 
turned to  subjects  conceived  in  a  mood  of 
tender  beauty:  ballet  dancers,  lovers,  gods 
and  goddesses,  often  drawn  in  pure  line,  like 
the  incised  designs  on  Etruscan  mirrors. 

Each  change  startled  collectors  but  did  not 
lessen  their  admiration.  Has  it  worried  Picasso 
that  this  spotlight  of  fame  has  followed  every 
deviation?  Nothing  that  he  has  painted  or 
drawn  has  lacked  appreciation.  He  has  been 
misunderstood,  defamed,  attacked,  but 
through  the  years  there  have  always  been 
patrons  to  buy  his  pictures,  no  matter  how 
bizarre.  It  was  different  with  the  great  mas- 
ters of  the  last  half  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Neglect,  and  often  poverty,  was  their  lot. 
The  successful  painters  of  the  Salons  of  that 
era  are  now,  with  few  exceptions,  the  for- 
gotten painters. 

Adulation,  perhaps  unwanted,  has  fol- 
lowed Picasso  even  in  his  strangest  quest. 
For  the  last  twenty  years  he  seems  to  have 
set  himself  this  problem :  how  can  objects,  es- 
pecially the  human  face,  be  so  deformed  that 
the  monstrous  will  arouse  an  aesthetic  emo- 
tion? In  this  bizarre  search  Picasso  has  occa- 
sionally created,  almost  as  by-products,  works 
of  moving  and  conventional  beauty.  The 
portrait  of  Mile.  Maar,  a  painter  and  close 
friend,  which  is  dated  April  20,  1941,  is  a 
haunting  tribute  to  the  loveliness  of  a  gifted 
and  fascinating  woman.  Its  tones  seem  im- 
pressed on  the  canvas  by  some  emanation  of 
affectionate  memory. 

But  this  canvas  is  an  exception.  There  are 
at  least  sixteen  portraits  of  Mile.  Maar,  and 
in  most  of  them  her  features  are  displaced 
and  redistributed  until  she  is  metamorphosed 
into  such  a  grotesque  monster  that  the  spec- 
tator shudders  with  horror.  The  paintings 
Picasso  has  done  in  recent  years  make  up  a 
Grand  Guignol  of  art.  Do  they  also  mirror 
"the  gigantic  shadows  which  futurity  casts 
upon  the  present,"  and  thus  prophesy  some 
coming  terror  of  the  human  spirit? 
JOHN  WALKER 

Chief  Curator,  National  Gallery  of  Art 


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i         THIS  >!  A II II I  Alii  K  UK  S  \\  tiUf 

((  ciiliiiKi;!  from  I'ukc  -iOj 


i'licn  Hill)  ;iiul  I  wore  liviiiK  toKelher,  he 
II  ciitiri'ly  (liUcrciU  story.  TIktc  weren't 
flowers  Iheii!  Bob  yelled  ;i(  me  and 
d  on  ine  and  criticized  until  I  hardly 
which  way  was  up.  My  iiair  didn't 
iin,  iny  clothes  didn't  suit  him;  he  com- 
xl  of  my  cookinn.  he  showed  me  how  to 
le  vaciitiin  and  he  even  told  me  the  way 
iild  change  the  baby's  diai)ers.  He  was 
r  to  please  than  mamma  in  one  of  lu  r 
s,  and  when  1  don't  please  people  a 
s  nie  almost  sicU. 

ve  always  been  that  way."  conrided 
When  I  was  a  little  uirl  an<l  would  come 
i  room.  I  would  around  and  kiss  ev- 
dy  there  the  women,  the  men,  the 
en.  Because  mamma  had  to  work,  my 
>  and  I  were  always  bein.u  i)arked  some- 
new,  and  I  ^;uess  I  must  have  tiiou^ht 
rybody  liked  me  I  wouldn't  iiave  to 
a^;ain.  Moving  so  mucii  and  chan.uinn 
ch  kept  me  kind  of  scared  as  a  child, 
ve  done  everything  to  make  my  mar- 
:i  success  and  it  hasn't  worked,"  .)ill  af- 
i.  "Last  year  Bob  complained  so  much 

my  family  interfering;  that  the  chil- 
ind  I  moved  to  Seattle  with  him.  His 
I,"  the  youn.t;  wife  said  tensely,  "lives 
ttle.  Two  months  of  that  was  as  much 
y  human  could  stand.  liob's  oldest 
.T  moved  in  with  us, 
d win  is  stuck  up  and 
[iwns  on  iiim  sicken- 
Kdwin  liiinks  I'm  a 

and  Bob  lau.i;hed 
t  ime  Kdwin  made  fim 
Then  one  nij^ht  Ed- 
nsisled   I  darn  his 

why  should  a  wife 
brother-in-law's 


lin^?  — and  Bob 
i  Edwin  up.  We  had 
ble  tight,  all  three  of 
len  Edwin  called  up 
lother-in-law  and 
what  she  thought,  and  she  said  I 
I  darn  the  socks.  What  business  was 


ter  that  quarrel,"  said  Jill,  "I  packed 
d  brought  the  children  back  to  my 

Mamma  and  both  my  sisters  a.greed 
ne  about  the  socks.  So  did  my  three 

they  live  near  us. 

)ne  of  my  family  ever  did  like  Bob. 

single  one  of  them  is  on  my  side, 
ve  done  everything  for  me.  Alice  — 
Tiy  oldest  sister— got  me  a  filing  job 

own  firm.  Alice  is  the  brainy  one 

family;  all  the  men  in  Alice's  eom- 
lave  tried  to  hold  her  back,  but  she's 
y  earning  more  than  Bob.  I'm  not  spe- 
interested  in  my  job,  but  Alice  and 
la  both  say  I'll  be  interested  in  time, 
amma  is  taking  care  of  my  baby  and 
s  baby,  too,"  said  Jill,  continuing  the 
a;ue  of  her  family's  goodness  to  her. 
f  us— except  Bobby,  Jr.,  who's  staying 
aarding  home— live  in  this  apartment 
pment  mamma  superintends.  With 
la  working  and  all,  the  care  of  the  two 

is  hard  on  her  nerves  and  her  health, 
e  hardly  ever  complains, 
amma  has  always  said,"  Jill  went  on, 
ivould  do  anything  in  the  world  for 
or  Alice  or  me  to  make  up  for  our  hav- 
lo-good  father.  My  mother  isn't  really 
.  When  things  gel  on  her  nerves  she 
k  spells.  That's  why  Bobby.  Jr..  has  to 

this  boarding  home.  He's  active  and 
and  three  children  would  be  just  too 
for  mamma. 

tsy  is  the  beauty  of  our  family,"  Jill 
ffered  with  an  enthusiasm  wholly  un- 

by  envy.  "Her  ex-husband  never  did 
:iate  her.  Betsy  works  in  a  place  with 

attractive  salesmen,  and  they  fall  all 
lemselves  dating  her.  She  goes  dancing 

every  night."  And  then  abruptly  Jill 
:ed  before  she  hurriedly  confessed  that 
had  arranged  several  dancing  dates  for 
I  thought  I  ought  to  postpone  dating 
ny  decree  was  final,  but  Betsy  insisted 
g  was  silly  and  mamma  finally  agreed 
ed  recreation  so  I  wouldn't  be  forever 


The  mission  of  the  dog — I 
say  it  with  all  reverence — 
is  the  same  as  the  mission 
of  Christianity,  namely,  to 
teach  mankind  that  the 
universe  is  ruled  by  love. 

—  HENRY  C.  MERWIN 

Dogs  &  Men  (Houghton  Mifflin  Co.) 


,^0/  -J.^  -^Sff 


m()|)ing  around  and  crying  over  a  panl  thai 
can't  be  mended. 

"It  isn't  as  Ihough  there  was  anylhm^.' 
irroufi  in  my  dales."  said  Jill.  "A  few  kisses  is 
all  I  ever  allow.  I  don't  care  Ux)  much  alxnii 
sex.  as  liob  will  tell  you  himself.  In  my  o|)in- 
ion  sex  is  is  messy.  Mamma  thinks  the 
same.  And  you  should  hear  my  sister  Alice 
and  my  three  aunties  on  the  subject '  None 
of  liiem  ever  was  married. 

"Hut  now  I'm  sure  you  underslaiul."  .|ill 
s,iid  Ml  conclusion,  "the  kind  of  advice  I 
iu((l.  I  want  to  work  out  some  way  I  can 
earn  enough  money  to  make  a  loving,  |wace- 
lul,  siHulf  life  for  me  and  my  two  children. 
And  that  means  liob  isn't  in  it.  After  all  my 
family  has  done  for  me,  I  can't  |X)ssibly 
change  my  mind  again  alxtul  the  divorce. 
Mamma  would  never  forgive  me.  Besides.  I 
can't  take  Bob's  yelling  and  arKuing  aiu 
criticizing  a  single  minute  longer." 

Bob  tells  his  side: 

"I  was  tall  enough  for  my  wife  unlil  her 
mother  got  at  her,"  Bob  said  belligerently 
to  the  counselor  with  whom  Jill  had  |)revi- 
ously  spoken.  A  stocky  young  man,  his  angry, 
unhajipy  voice  sh(X)k  the  window|)anes  in 
the  oOice.  "Jill  doesn't  want  to  divorce  me 
and  take  away  my  chil- 
dren, whatever  she  says. 
It's  her  mother  and  her 
meddling  sisters  and  her 
nosy  aunts  who  want  to 
push  me  out  of  the  family. 
They  or  nobody  else  is  go- 
ing to  push  me  around." 
declared  the  husband  who 
had  been  pushed  into  the 
divorce  court.  "I  know 
what's  best  for  my  own 
wife,  I  guess.  I  know  how 
to  har  dle  Jill  and  make 
her  happy.  All  I  need  is 
to  get  her  and  my  children  back  where  they 
belong. 

"Jill's  family  have  teamed  up  on  me  and 
poisoned  her  mind,"  said  Bob.  "They're  the 
ones  who've  convinced  my  wife  it's  practi- 
cally indecent  to  have  a  husband  and  sleep 
with  him  and  listen  to  his  opinions.  Why 
shouldn't  Jill  listen  to  me  instead  of  her 
bossy  mother?  If  I  try  to  show  her  how  to 
use  the  vacuum,  she  cjuotes  her  mother  at 
me. 

"It's  the  same  with  everything  else.  I 
want  Jill  to  wear  her  hair  long,  and  last 
spring  her  mother  persuaded  her  to  gel  a 
poodle  cut.  Blue  is  my  favorite  color  for  .Jill, 
and  one  time  her  mother  deliberately  talked 
her  into  spending  my  money  on  a  pink  dress. 
When  I  told  her  exactly  how  she  looked,  she 
up  and  left  me.  She  and  the  children  stayed 
away  six  weeks  that  time,  while  she  and  her 
mother  and  her  sisters  and  even  her  aunts 
hashed  over  what  a  heel  I  was.  Whenever  I 
tell  Jill  to  do  something,  she  and  the  kids 
are  gone  again.  What  kind  of  marriage  is 
that? 

"Jill's  mother  wouldn't  like  any  son-in- 
law,"  Bob  said  bitterly  and  reviewed  the  rec- 
ord. "She  got  rid  of  Betsy's  husband  in  their 
first  year,  and  doesn't  seem  to  notice  Betsy  is 
unhappy  and  is  turning  into  a  cheap  little 
gold  digger  who  will  wind  up  someday  in  an 
awful  mess.  There  was  nothing  wrong  with 
Betsy's  husband.  It's  because  of  my  mother- 
in-law  that  Ahce— that  hot-shot  career 
girl— is  turning  into  a  crabby,  frustrated  old 
maid  who's  always  jumping  on  men  because 
she  doesn't  know  how  to  catch  one.  Alice  is 
only  twenty-nine  but  she's  already  darn  near 
as  bad  as  those  dried-up  old  aunts  of  theirs. 
I'll  bet  my  bottom  dollar  my  mother-in- 
law's  everlasting  bossiness  and  convenient 
sick  spells  had  a  lot  to  do  with  her  own  di- 
vorce. I  sure  would  like  to  meet  Jill's  father 
someday.  I  pity  that  man. 

"A  short  guy,"  five-foot-five  Bob  then  said 
to  the  counselor  "has  enough  headaches 
without  being  driven  nuts  by  in-laws.  I 
haven't  ever  had  it  soft  in  my  ow^n  family. 
My  parents  were  divorced,  too,  and  my  fa- 


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6e  sure  it^ 

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188 


L   A    D    I    E    S  ' 


H    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


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ther  sent  money  for  my  older  brother  to  go 
to  college,  but  he  didn't  even  answer  the  let- 
ters when  my  turn  came.  Edwin  is  a  big  six- 
footer  and  played  football,  and  I  guess  my 
father  was  proud  of  him.  Edwin  was  forever 
beating  up  on  me,"  Bob  recalled,  "when  we 
were  kids.  I  used  to  crawl  in  through  the 
basement  window  when  I  got  home  from 
school  for  fear  he  would  be  waiting  in  the 
front  hall.  Last  year  Edwin  made  trouble 
between  Jill  and  me,  and  I  guess  I  should 
have  thrown  him  out  on  his  ear,  but  I 
couldn't  figure  a  way.  Somehow  I'm  still 
halfway  afraid  of  Edwin. 

"In  business  I'm  always  at  a  disadvan- 
tage," Bob  went  on,  "with  big  guys  grinning 
to  themselves  and  thinking  I'm  barely  out  of 
short  pants  and  don't  know  beans.  I've  lost 
several  jobs  getting  mto  fist  fights  over  that 
very  thing.  Maybe  that's  why  a  lot  of  guys 
my  age  are  better  off  financially.  If  I  can't 
be  the  head  of  my  own  family,  with  my  own 
wife  and  kids  looking  up  to  me,  I've  got 
no  confidence  to  hold  any  kind  of  job  or 
e  .en  feel  like  a  man.  Jill  claims  my  voice 
is  too  loud  and  my  manners  are  bad. 
Why  can't  she  realize  if  I 
don't  speak  up  and  make 
my  presence  felt  I'll  be 
shoved  off  in  the  corner 
every  time?  Believe  me. 
business  is  no  cinch.  And 
you  certainly  have  to  yell 
around   her   family  and 
mine  if  you  expect  to  be 
heard ! 

"  I  want  you  to  help  me  straighten  out  this 
mess  with  Jill,"  said  the  harried  young  hus- 
band in  conclusion.  "This  time  I'm  afraid 
she  really  will  go  ahead  and  divorce  me.  Tell 
me  how  to  get  my  wife  and  children  back.  I'll 
do  anything  you  suggest — whether  it 's  reason- 
able or  not.  All  Jill  and  I  need  is  to  get  our 
relatives  off  our  necks  and  to  be  by  ourselves." 

The  counselor  says: 

"Bob  and  Jill  both  came  from  broken 
homes,  and  neither  one  was  emotionally 
prepared  or  educated  to  defend  their  own 
home  and  love  against  outside  attack.  Both 
their  families  interfered  outrageously  in  their 
marriage,  with  Jill's  mother  as  the  chief 
offender.  I  never  met  that  lady.  However, 
1  suspect  her  overprotectiveness  and  her 
intolerable  meddling  in  all  her  daughters' 
lives— she  actually  told  Jill  how  often  and 
when  to  grant  Bob  his  marital  rights  and 
checked  up  by  telephone— sprang  from  an 
attempt  to  cover  up  her  own  failure  in  mar- 
riage. Few  young  couples  could  have  got 
along  smoothly  under  such  conditions. 

"Nevertheless,  Bob's  and  Jill's  own  per- 
sonality difficulties  complicated  their  prob- 
lems. These  young  people  knew  nothing 
about  each  other  or  their  own  natures.  Al- 
though Bob  was  greatly  surprised  when  I 
pointed  out  the  fact,  he  was  as  dominating 
as  his  mother-in-law.  He  was  also  intensely 
overcritical  of  the  shortcomings  of  others— a 
typical  symptom  of  basic  insecurity.  When 
Jill  reacted  to  his  excessive  criticisms  by 
withholding  from  him  her  love  and  atten- 
tion, Bob  became  even  more  insecure  and 
hence  more  critical.  Neither  realized  their 
bitter  quarrels  were  inevitable  unless  they 
changed  their  own  entrenched  attitudes. 

"  It  wasn't  Bob's  right  as  a  husband  to  tell 
Jill  how  to  choose  her  clothes  and  wear  her 
hair,  to  show  her  how  to  cook  and  clean,  to 
criticize  and  superintend  her  every  act,  any 
more  than  it  was  her  mother's  right.  Bob 
was  endeavoring  to  boost  his  own  faltering 
ego  at  his  wife's  expense.  He  had  a  bad  case 
of  small-man  trouble,  fostered  by  a  neglect- 
ful father  and  an  elder  brother  whom  he 
simultaneously  feared,  envied  and  admired. 
This  had  led  Bob  to  believe  the  way  to  prove 
his  strength  and  manhood  was  to  behave  like 
a  household  tyrant  and  a  social  boor.  After 
consultation.  Bob  came  to  understand  the 
origin  of  and  reason  for  his  belligerent  atti- 
tude. He  also  perceived  that  his  aggressive- 
ness—incidentally, a  sure  sign  to  shrewd  ob- 
servers of  insecurity  and  weakness— had  not 
only  endangered  his  marriage  but  definitely 
handicapped  him  in  earning  a  living.  Jill 
wasn't  the  kind  of  girl  who  could  tolerate 


It  is  twice  as  hard  to  crush 
a  half-truth  as  a  whole  lie. 

—AUSTIN  O'MALLEY 


rudeness  and  bullying,  and  few  en  c 
will  put  up  with  it.  When  Bob  sa  ii,  j 
truths,  he  determined  to  alter  his  per \\^]  ] 
and  his  attitudes.  In  an  amazing! i  si 
space  of  time,  he  did  so.  He  just  hai  t  -a 
plied  that  kind  of  thought  to  himself 

"Nor  had  Jill  done  any  positive  thkij 
about  Bob  or  herself  or  her  marriage,  orj 
stance,  she  was  unaware  of  how  her  rsoi 
ality  had  suffered  from  her  parents'  vc* 
and  her  unstable  background  as  a  chi  i  T| 
girl  had  subconsciously  set  herself  the 
winning  the  complete  approval  of  ev(  i  ba| 
at  all  times— an  impossible  assignme  .  s" 
was  much  too  sensitive  to  criticism  ( ^ 
at  her  or  at  anybody  even  remotely  It 
fied  with  her.  Consequently  she  wa  > 
sively  embarrassed  by  other  people's  ]k  ^ 
opinions  of  her  husband. 

"  In  the  first  years  of  her  marriage,  e  r.i 
between  her  husband  and  her  motlu- 
to  duck  the  criticisms  of  both  and  u 
and  win  the  approval  of  both.  When  . 
fort  inevitably  failed,  habit  turned 
ward  the  person  who  had  domina  i 
thinking  the  longest— her  mother 
she  should  have  bet 
ing  toward  her  h  i 
and  searching  lu 
mind.  In  her  concc 
satisfying  everybod : 
wishes  and  gainir 
versal  approval,  J 
lost  all  track  of  h 
wishes  and  her  o\\  n 
indeed,  her  dut>  - 
and  make  decisions  and  choices  as  ar  dui 
Not  only  did  she  hurt  Bob;  she  outra;:itt 
spirit  of  marriage  when  she  ran  to  her  mil 
to  report  marital  differences  she  shouihav 
thought  through  herself. 

"  It  was  obvious  Jill  didn't  really  dire 
divorce;  for  one  thing,  the  action  haibef 
pending  nearly  a  year.  In  seeking  ;  d 
vorce  she  was  dodging  the  responsib  ly  i 
choice  and  literally  yielding  her  own  .11 1 
the  wishes  of  the  majority— her  fam|-.  I 
first  she  and  I  merely  discussed  her  jitu: 
as  it  would  be  without  Bob.  After  ori  t« 
consultations,  in  which  Jill  probably  <il  il 
first  concrete  thinking  of  her  life,  sj  ai 
mitted  that  as  a  divorced  woman  wi  |  tv 
children  she  would  face  tougher  pp  len 
than  those  she  was  trying  to  run  awaj  iror 
By  then  she  also  realized  that  by  di^jcii 
Bob  she  would  subject  her  children^  i 
upbringing  as  unsatisfactor;'  as  her  ov  h; 
been. 

"Another  important  point:  for  tl  fir 
time  Jill  saw  she  had  been  regarding  B  |)  n 
as  a  person  but  as  a  husband  who  ma|:h 
unhappy.  She  had  been  giving  less  att  !iti( 
and  thought  to  a  man  who  needed  exii  a 
tention  than  she  gave  to  any  one  of  hejrel 
fives  or  even  casual  acquaintances. 

"By  the  third  consultation  Jill  was!!a( 
to  try  marriage  again  with  a  dififereniat 
tude.  But  she  lacked  the  courage  to  .'e; 
the  news  to  her  family.  And  she  still  cc  dr 
endure  the  fact  that  Bob  was  two  incH  ti 
short.  1 

"The  second  difficulty  was  solved  iniSt 
prisingly  simple  way.  Bob  bought  a  p  r 
the  so-called  'elevator'  shoes  and,  so  r 
casual  observers  were  concerned,  becafe 
tall  as  Jill.  I 

"The  other  difficulty,"  said  the  coujel 
with  a  smile,  "was  equally  easy  to  'Iv 
Jill  said  nothing  to  her  family  of  her  ar 
She  had  acquired  the  spunk  to  decid(  h 
it  was  none  of  their  business.  One  la 
night  she  and  Bob  packed  her  bags,  gat  ;ri 
up  their  youngsters  and  eloped  the  s,oi 
time! 

"That  was  a  year  ago,"  conclude jitl 
counselor,  "and  the  reconciliation  lite 
Just  last  week  Jill  telephoned  that  shiar 
Bob  hadn't  had  a  real  quarrel  since  t !  r 
union.  Also— though  this  may  sound  lil  tl 
end  of  a  fairy  story— Bob's  additional  I  g 
plus  Jill's  pride  in  him  and  his  appea  n 
gave  the  young  man  sufficient  confidei'; 
seek  and  find  a  much  better  job.  Fu  le 
more,  Jill's  mother  had  called  on  ther  ar 
congratulated  her  son-in-law  on  the  b 

Editors"  Note:  This  case  history  was  coinpit  |a 
condensed  from  actual  records  by 

DOROTHY  CAMERON  DISNEY 


^    Mil.-,-       II    .1    \|    I.       Jul     |(    .N    A  I. 


Now . . .  lca(Hii«;  ail l()iiiali<*  waslu  r 
makers  pac  k  a  box  of 
in  every  new  ma<*liiiH^! 


Wonderful  new  washing  powder 
cleans  and  rinses  without  suds! 

Willi  (l((/,cris  (»f  wi<l«-ly  a(lv«Tli.s<*(i  luuinlry  powdtrrH,  why 
(Iocs  rvrry  Icadid}^  aiilomal ir  vva>-li<-r  riiakfr*  advist*  you  to 
use  ully 

B«'(:aus<'  ull  is  suds-fn-r.  And  rriariufarlunTs  know  tliat 
old-style  sudsing  powders  are  aelualiy  liarniful  in  a  modern 
aiitoiiialic  washing  rMacliirie. 

Suds  smollicr  and  di  lcat  die  lunihling,  swirling  action  so 
iinportaiil  lo  thorough  washing.  Suds  overflow  and  clog  the 
nieclianisin.  Worse  yet,  suds  cling  to  clothes  instead  of  rinsing 
clean.  Suds  leave  a  sticky  deposit  thai  makes  your  clothes 
gray  and  dull. 


No  phony  suds  to  pay  for! 


With  soap  plus  bleach,  bluing,  softener  22c  per  wash 

With  ordinary  detergent  plus  bleach  10c  per  wash 

With  suds-free  "all"  4 '/2c  per  wash 

From  actual  laundry  tests  by  a  leading  university. 


Suds-free  all  lets  your  machine  run  smoothly,  freely,  the 
way  it  was  huilt  to  run.  There's  no  messy  overflow.  And  all 
rinses  completely  —  no  suds  scum  to  leave  your  clothes  only 
half -clean. 

You  always  get  a  gloriously  beautiful  wash  with  all.  Shirts 
and  sheets,  fdmy  underlhings  and  baby  diapers,  even  grimy- 
work  clothes  come  out  sparkling  bright,  sweet-smelling,  sur- 
gically clean. 

all  is  an  honest  washing  powder.  Every  particle  works 
instead  of  foaming  away  in  phony,  useless  suds.  No  extras 
to  buy  either.  Whitener  and  water  softener  are  right  in  the 
formula.  That's  why  all  costs  less  by  the  wash,  by  the  week, 
by  the  year. 

Follow  the  advice  of  the  wash- 
ing machine  manufacturers.  Use 
the  modern  washing  powder  made 
especially  for  your  machine  — 
new  suds-free  all.  You've  paid 
for  modern  automatic  washing. 
Get  it  at  its  very  best!  Bu\  all 
at  appliance,  grocery,  hardware 
and  department  stores. 


uoronteed  bir^ 
1  Hoaseke«pin{  J 


*  Apex,  Bendix,  Frigidaire,  General  Elecfrlc,  Hof point,  Maytag,  Norge,  Westinghouse,  Whirlpool  —  every  top-flight  maker  recommends  "all". 


promise  (/oc/  Y/  taste,  the 

^^^mt^a^—  -^^^""^"^  More  shortening  is  the  secret  of  this  finer, 
"buttery"  flavor  that  beats  all  other  crackers  hollow!  The  crisp-as-possible 
crispness  comes  from  a  new,  special  baking  process.  And  the  flakier,  melt-in- 
your-mouth  tenderness  hits  a  new  high  in  goodness !  Now  don't  miss  out. 
New  Ritz  is  really  something !  Just  taste  and  see ! 


190 


NATIONAL  BISCUIT  COMPANY 


Remember...  A/oTa/z/^/G  JTi^Te^  AS  GOOD 


AS- 


-Sur 


One  sure-fire  conversational  gambit  when  you're  among  strangers  at  a 
party  is  to  ask  your  nearest  companion,  "What's  the  craziest  thing  thai 
ever  happened  to  you?"  Whether  it's  President  Eisenhower  or  Miss 
Mouse,  a  gleam  will  come  into  the  eye,  a  smile  to  the  lips,  and  "Well,! 
thought  I'd  die!"  is  apt  to  begin  the  account  of  a  ridiculous  experience. 
Here  are  samples  collected  from  our  fellow  editors,  authors,  photogra- 
phers and  theatrical  friends.  You  go  right  on  where  we've  left  off  andsei 
how  much  fun  you  can  have! 


I  1ST 


STRIP  TEASK.  The  department-store  heads  at  Alt- 
man's  were  meeting  in  the  directors'  room,  to 
decide  on  my  doing  some  model  rooms  in  the 
store.  They  were  all  assembled  very  formally 
around  the  huge  mahogany  table  when  I  arrived  a 
few  minutes  late.  I  had  stopped  in  at  home  to  put 
on  a  new  coat-dress  that  fastened  at  the  side  with 
three  buttons.  I  had  never  worn  it  before.  One  of 
the  men  said,  "Won't  you  take  off  your  coat?"  I 
said,  "Thank  you!"  and  started  to  slip  right  out  of 
my  dress,  to  the  delight  of  the  gentlemen,  who 

thought  I  must  surely  have  worked  in  burlesque  or  even  be  Gypsy  Rose  herself. 

Henrietta  Murdock 


CHEESE  IT,  THE  VOPSt  Do  you  have  % 
idea  of  what  it  means  to  be  caught  with  W 
goods  on  you,  and  still  be  completely  innocent? 
That  almost  happened  to  me,  and  a  more  ridicu- 
lous, frightening  predicament  I  never  hope  to  be 
in  again.  Once,  riding  on  a  Fifth  Avenue  bus,  I 
reached  up  to  grab  a  post  while  standing,  when  to 
my  horror  and  amazement  I  realized  that  I  had 
walked  out  of  the  Lord  and  Taylor  department 
store  with  a  handbag  on  my  arm,  which  I  had  just 
been  looking  at  and  did  not  buy.  In  confusion  ami 
embarrassment,  I  leaped  off  the  bus  and  rushed  back  to  the  store  and  confessed 
my  error  to  a  salesclerk,  who  took  the  bag  and  examined  it  in  a  puzzled  way.  "But, 
madam,  this  is  not  a  Lord  and  Taylor  bag — it's  a  Bonwit  Teller!"  All  I  could  do  was 
to  creep  away  with  the  guilty  evidence  still  on  me  and  go  on  to  the  other  store.  I 
simply  could  not  face  repeating  my  confession  to  another  salesgirl,  so  I  did  the 
really  dangerous  thing,  which  was  to  slip  the  bag  back  on  the  counter  when  no 
one  was  looking,  which  would  have  convicted  me  of  shoplifting  had  a  store 
detective  seen  me  do  it.  Inez  Haynes  Irwin 


I'AltlHUV  THE  OVERSmilT.  I  spend  about  half  of 
my  time  traveling  between  my  home  in  St.  Louis  and 
points  north,  south,  east  and  west — not  excluding 
Journal  headquarters  in  Philadelphia  where  I  have  to 
check  in  with  my  editors  every  so  often.  My  husband, 
a  busy  St.  Louis  lawyer,  usually  counts  on  meeting  me 
at  the  airport  for  week  ends  and  driving  out  to  our  farm. 
One  week  end  last  summer  we  were  on  our  way  from 
the  airport  to  the  country  and  stopped  en  route  at  a 
service  station.  I  left  the  car  and  returned  a  few  min- 
utes later  to  discover  that  my  husband  had  gone. 
"Where's  my  husband?"  I  asked  the  service  man.  "Oh,  he's  gone,  ma'am."  I 
waited  just  long  enough  to  give  him  a  chance  to  get  to  the  farm,  where  he  often 
drove  by  himself,  and  phoned  him.  Knowing  that  six  receivers  go  up  when  the 
phone  rings  on  the  party  line,  we  confined  our  conversation  to  "Hello,  Joe?"  and 
his  reply  "Oh  .  .  .  I'll  be  right  over!"  '         Margaret  Hickey 

EAMOI  S  LAST  WOltBS.  When  I  was  a  young  reporter  on  the  Des  Moines 
Register,  my  city  editor  sent  me  over  to  the  Associated  Charities  headquarters  to 
interview  its  director,  Horace  Hollingsworth,  on  the  subject  of  planned  parent- 
hood. At  the  end  of  the  interview,  Mr.  Hollingsworth  very  graciously  escorted  me 
out  to  the  reception  room,  which  was  crowded  with  people,  and  his  parting  words 
before  an  astonished  audience  were,  "Let  me  know  what  luck  you  have  with  birth 
control!"  Gladys  Denny  Shultz 


i 


HAT  EVER 
HAPPENED 

ro  ME'' 


ST  .l.Vf*  FlU'Slt.  l.ciKiic  and  I  had  just  cdiiic  lo  I        u  I  ami  had  hccn  In  mu 

new  hoiiso  oid)  a  da)s.  It  was  a  Fiiihiy  adornodii  and  it  had  l)ccn  [Huii  iiii^  rain 
all  morning.  Our  car  iiad  hccn  parked  under  the  porte-eoehere  so  that  we  could 
hop  into  it  wilhoul  f;el  liiifj  wcl.  When  we  went  out  lo  f;el  into  the  ('ar,  we  discov  - 
ered  it  was  gone!  ()h\iouslv  soiueonc  had  come  up  holdly  atid  stolen  it  light  Iroiii 
under  our  noses,  and  we  called  the  police  of  Sania  Monica  lo  re|iort  the  lliclt. 
Since  the  ear  couldn't  have  heen  gone  lor  more  llian  a  hail  hour,  we  expected  lo 
hear  that  it  had  heen  relrievi-d  hy  nighliall.  Hut  no  such  luck!  Days  went  hy,  the 
rain  eonliuLied  relentlessly  and  Lenore  and  the  Santa  Monica  police  were  getting 
(juite  nasty  to  each  other.  At  tiie  end  ol  ahout  four  days  our  maid  walked  into  the 
living  room  from  the  garden  (yes,  it  had  slopped  raining)  and  solenmly  announced, 
"Madam,  the  car  is  here."  "Oh,  lovely,"  said  Mrs.  (lotten,  "so  they  caught  the 
thieves,  did  tiieN  y"  "Well,  not  exactly,  madam,"  said  the  maid.  "It's  at  the 
hottom  of  the  swimming  pool,  at  the  deep  end!"'  Our  diiveway  is  on  a  slight  in- 
cline and  the  hrakes  were  not  firndy  enough  (ixed,  so  our  car,  a  new  I,incoin, 
hail  rolled  genllv  down  the  hill,  across  the  lawn  and  into  the  pool  at  the  end 
of  the  garden.  None  of  us  had  heen  walking  around  tiie  garden  hecause  of  the 
rain,  and  it  wasn't  until  the  maid  took  her  little  stroll  that  the  discovery  was 
made.  Incidentally,  after  the  pool  was  drained,  a  crane  was  imported  to  haul  oui- 
Lincoln  out,  to  the  accompaniment  of  nuicli  raucous  clowning  among  our  friends, 
and  so  on.  It  ran  beautifully  for  years!  Once  it  was  dried  out  and  regreased,  the 
dousing  seemed  to  have  a  preservative  effect.  Jnstcpii  Cottkn 


AKOTIIKU  I.AXIil'AliK.  This  is  a  true  story 
which  happened  to  a  young  Englishman  in  his 
government's  foreign  service,  who  must  for  obvi- 
ous reasons  remain  nameless.  Early  in  his  career 
he  was  assigned  to  become  tiie  British  representa- 
tive in  a  remote  colony  in  Africa.  In  order  for  him 
to  qualify  for  the  post,  it  was  necessary  for  liim  to 
learn  the  language.  It  was  not  a  language  tliat  was 
taught  in  any  regular  language  school  or  college — 
in  fact,  he  had  to  advertise  for  a  tutor  in  the  news- 
paper. The  tutor  was  forthcoming  and  he  em- 
barked on  an  eight  months'  course  of  intensive  study.  At  the  end  oi  the  period  he 
made  arrangements  to  take  his  examinations,  only  to  discover  that  he  had  learned 
the  wrong  language! 


THOUSAXDS  UEAit!  Twenty  minutes 
before  broadcast  time  on  a  day  when  I  was 
doing  the  program  before  a  group  of  club- 
women at  the  Waldorf,  my  secretary  came 
dashing  into  my  bedroom  after  hearing  an 
anguished  cry,  to  find  me  and  my  corset  in  a 
death  grip,  the  zipper  like  a  cobra's  teeth  sunk 
into  my  flesh — refusing  to  budge.  My  house- 
keeper ran  for  some  kitchen  gadgets  and  then 
buzzed  for  the  superintendent  and  his  toolbox 
while  I  hobbled  to  the  telepiione  to  alert  Stella 

Karn,  my  manager.  We  had  enough  implements— screw  drivers,  files,  saws— to 
open  a  safe,  but  none  made  any  impression  on  that  stubborn  zipper.  Wlien  I 
began  to  get  paler,  Mrs.  D.,  my  secretary,  went  for  the  doctor  who  lived  in  our 
apartment  house  and  paced  up  and  down  his  office  frantically  pleading  with  him 
to  hurry  and  not  bother  to  sterilize  the  instruments  in  his  little  black  bag.  Fmally 
he  followed  her  to  the  elevator  and  just  as  the  strains  of  Beautiful  Lady  (my 
theme)  came  floating  out  of  our  radio  and  I  heard  Vincent  Connolly  explauiing 
that  I  had  heen  unavoidably  detained,  the  doctor's  pincers  and  file  came  to  grips 
with  the  zipper  and  won!  Bruised  and  patched  and  minus  my  corset,  I  got  dressed 
and  reached  the  Waldorf  only  ten  minutes  late,  my  only  thought  that  I  had  to 
face  250  women  and  a  mike  and  explain  about  my  battle  with  a  zipper!  Which  I 
did.  and  every  bodv  roared  witli  laughter.  Mary  M.\rgaret  McBride 


than  government  standard 


That's  why 

HOKMa  tm 

IS  America's  favorite  2  to  1! 


Other  favorites  by  Hormel 


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1 


192 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


March,  1953 


after  25 

drying  skin 

begins 
to  show  ! 


fV Itch  out  for  dry  skin  signs 

It's  noticeable — and  disturbing — the  way  skin  often 
begins  to  shoiv  dryness  after  25.  At  about  this  age,  the 
natural  oil  that  keeps  skin  soft  and  fresh  starts  decreasing. 

You  need  a  special  replacer  to  offset  this  drying  out  of 
your  skin's  natural  softening  oil.  Use  this  special  Pond's 
lanolin-rich  Dry  Skin  Cream. 

See  below  how  this  quick  !/«-drier  works  to  soften  and 
repair  common  dry-skin  troubles  all  over  your  face  and 
throat.  Get  this  wonderful  help — now! 


Crepy-Dry  Eyelids  make  your  sliin  look 
darkened,  fade  out  your  eyes. 
To  Lighten  and  Soften— Give  eyelids  a  nightly 
cream-over  with  lanolin-rich  Pond's  Dry 
Skin  Cream.  Touch  cream  to  inner  corners  of 
eyes — tap  gently  out  over  lids.  This  special 
rich  cream  is  homogenized  to  soak  in  better. 


That  Matronly-Looking  Sagging  starts  to 
show  along  your  chin-line. 
To  Tone  Up  Chin-Line — "Pinch  along"  from 
point  of  chin  to  ears  with  lanolin-rich  Pond's 
Dry  Skin  Cream.  This  treatment  brings  cir- 
culation up,  gives  this  dry  skin  the  lift  and 
rich  lubrication  it  needs. 


Tiny  Dry  Lines  Etch  In  between  your  eyes, 
on  forehead. 

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CAN  WE  TRUST  ALL  OUR  DOCTORS? 

(Continued  from  Page  53)  W§ 


immune  from  accidents  or  the  possibility  of 
being  sued.  The  doctor  never  knows  when  a 
patient,  who  may  be  one  out  of  25,000,  will 
react  badly  to  a  certain  type  of  anesthetic, 
serum  or  drug.  In  many  such  instances, 
there  are  no  foolproof  tests  that  can  be  ad- 
ministered in  advance.  Furthermore,  this 
area  of  "irreducible  minimum"  is  especially 
broadened  today,  when  the  healing  and  sur- 
gical arts  have  moved  so  far  into  new  fron- 
tiers that  physicians,  in  their  heroic  efforts  to 
save  lives  and  alleviate  human  misery,  often 
must  deal  with  treatments  about  which  full 
facts  are  not  yet  known. 

The  American  Medical  Association,  which 
is  medicine's  own  self-regulating  professional 
society  (corresponding  to  lawyers'  bar  asso- 
ciations and  the  regulatory  bodies  of  reli- 
gious organizations),  frequently  gets  reports 
of  shocking  cases  of  malpractice,  however. 
When  it  receives  such  complaints,  all  the 
AMA  can  now  do  is  pass  them  along  to  the 
state  and  county  medical  societies,  with  the 
recommendation  that  these  local  organiza- 
tions investigate  and  act.  The  AMA  has  no 
police  powers.  Authority  flows  upward  to  it 
from  the  various  local  and  state  societies 
which  comprise  its  membership,  not  down 
in  the  other  direction,  so  the  AMA  is  practi- 
cally powerless  as  of  now,  it  says. 

For  their  part,  state  and  medical  groups 
plead  it  is  difficult  under  their  laws  and 
regulations  to  drop  a  member  for  negligence 
or  incompetence.  Some  spokesmen  say  there 
is  not  much  even  the  local  medical  societies 
can  do  except  in  the  way  of  reprimand,  which 
would  only  hurt  the  doc- 
tor's pride.  (Some  alert 
local  societies,  of  course, 
put  teeth  in  the  reprimand 
by  curtailing  the  offender's 
hospital  privileges,  which 
hurts  his  pocketbook.)  But 
it  is  contended  that  it  is 
almost  impossible,  under 
the  laws  of  most  states, 
for  the  licensing  boards 
(these  are  state  bodies,  separate  from  the 
doctors'  own  societies,  but  working  in  close 
co-operation  with  the  slate's  doctors)  to  re- 
voke a  medical  practitioner's  license  for 
negligence  or  incompetence. 

However,  medical  societies  are  self- 
governing  organizations,  and  laws  and 
regulations  can  be  changed.  The  fault  of 
organized  medicine  is  that  the  good,  com- 
petent doctors,  recognizing  and  deploring 
the  moral  sickness  in  the  bad  doctors, 
have  been  loath  lo  invoke  a  quarantine. 
Lately,  however,  realizing  that  the  disease, 
unless  checked,  may  completely  destroy  pub- 
lic confidence  in  doctors,  leaders  in  the  medi- 
cal profession  are  attempting  to  do  some- 
thing—a little,  at  least— in  the  way  of  self- 
cure.  Forthright  statements  are  coming  from 
men  like  Dr.  John  T.  T.  Hundley,  past  pres- 
ident of  The  Medical  Society  of  Virginia, 
and  other  prominent  spokesmen.  Taking 
their  text  from  the  words  of  Christ  as  re- 
corded by  Luke  in  the  New  Testament,  they 
are  prescribing  to  their  colleagues,  "Phy- 
sician, heal  thyself!" 

In  some  areas,  where  offenders  ignore  this 
prescription,  progressive  medical  societies 
try  conscientiously  to  enforce  a  cure  by 
disciplinary  action.  The  American  Medical 
Association,  too,  is  dropping  its  traditional 
protective  conservatism  and  is  speaking  with 
unprecedented  frankness,  on  the  need  for 
medicine  to  clean  its  own  house. 

Is  the  cure  taking  hold?  It  is  hard  to  say. 
As  with  cancer,  the  failures  are  more  shocking 
and  far  more  numerous  than  the  recoveries. 
There  still  is  great  reluctance  on  the  part  of 
doctors  to  pass  judgment  on  their  fellows. 
It  is  still  a  rarity  for  a  doctor  to  lose  his 
license  for  anything  short  of  criminal  mal- 
practice. Though  exact  statistics  do  not 
exist,  I  found  evidence  that  the  number  of 
malpractice  cases— most  of  which  never 
reach  the  courts— annually  run  into  many 
thousands.  It  is  beginning  to  worry  the 
medical  profession  as  medical  malpractice 
has  long  worried  its  victims. 


The  most  influential  of  all 
educational  factors  is  the 
conversation  in  a  child's 
home.    —WILLIAM  temple 


When  I  began  my  research,  I  thouglii 
it  might  be  hard  to  find  cases  involving 
what  might  be  called  indefensible  mal- 
practice. The  opposite  proved  to  be  true. 

The  appellate  courts  have  sustained  numer- 
ous verdicts  against  doctors,  holding  them 
guilty  of  negligence,  incompetence  and  some- 
times even  fraudulent  concealment  of  their 
errors.  I  have  talked  with  doctors  who  have 
been  sued,  some  unjustly;  with  lawyers  on 
both  sides  of  the  fence,  who  have  opened 
their  files  to  tell  me  of  cases  under  investiga- 
tion or  about  to  reach  trial ;  and  with  insur- 
ance men  who  ruefully  relate  how  mal- 
practice verdicts  have  grown  higher  and 
higher.  The  higher  verdicts  are  accompanied, 
of  course,  by  a  corresponding  astronomical 
increase  in  the  cost  of  malpractice  insurance. 

It  should  be  pointed  out  here  that  there 
are  many  such  cases— far  more  than  th; 
indefensible-malpractice  suits— in  which  hon- 
est and  competent  doctors  are  victimized 
by  unjust  suits.  These  usually  are  instigated 
by  dead  beats  who  want  to  escape  paying 
their  bills.  Sometimes  they  are  filed  by  psy- 
chopaths, for  vengeful  or  avaricious  reasons. 

On  the  West  Coast,  an  outstanding  au- 
thority on  medical  malpractice.  Dr.  Louis  J. 
Regan,  who  is  both  a  doctor  and  a  lawyer 
and  who  serves  as  general  counsel  on  mal- 
practice to  the  Los  Angeles  County  Medical 
Association,  tells  of  a  woman  who  went  to 
three  doctors  complaining  of  abdominal 
pains.  Each  time  X  ray  revealed  an  open 
safety  pin  in  her  stomach.  The  woman  would 
hysterically  berate  the  previous  doctor  for 
"not  removing  it."  On  the 
third  occasion,  she  an- 
nounced she  had  a  lawyer 
who  was  going  to  sue.  For- 
tunately, the  first  doctor 
had  preserved  the  pin  he 
had  removed.  Comparison 
of  the  three  X  rays  showed 
it  was  a  different  pin  each 
time ! "  The  pin  swallower," 
Doctor  Regan  reports, 
"was  put  away  in  a  mental  institution." 

The  malpractice  situation  can  be  sum- 
marized as  follows: 

1.  There  has  been  an  alarming  increase  in 
malpractice  suits.  Medical  leaders  blame  this 
largely  on  the  increased  avarice  of  som 
practitioners,  who  give  the  whole  profession 
a  bad  name. 

2.  There  also  is  evidence  of  an  increase  in 
indefensible  malpractice.  Some  authorities 
argue  this  point,  but  others  concede  it.  It  is 
admitted  that  some  of  the  new  generation  of 
doctors  place  their  personal  convenience 
above  the  best  interests  of  their  patients. 
Others,  to  line  their  pocketbooks,  perform 
totally  unnecessary  operations,  or  attempt 
treatments  for  which  they  are  not  qualified. 

3.  Many  of  the  suits,  as  is  demonstrated 
by  the  number  that  are  thrown  out  of  court, 
are  baseless.  On  the  other  hand,  many  pa- 
tients who  should  recover  for  horrible 
injuries  sustained  at  the  hands  of  in- 
competent or  careless  doctors  find  it  im- 
possible to  collect  because  of  the  tradi- 
tional reluctance  of  medical  men  to  give 
the  legally  necessary  "expert  testimony" 
against  their  colleagues. 

4.  The  situation  is  hurting  the  public,  doc- 
tors and  the  practice  of  medicine  in  general. 
As  the  burned  child  fears  fire,  doctors  have 
become  jittery  of  being  sued.  Some  physi- 
cians actually  hold  back  certain  possibly 
beneficial  treatments  from  their  patients  for 
fear  of  getting  into  trouble. 

5.  So  far  as  actual  expulsions  from  the 
profession  are  concerned,  virtually  noth- 
ing is  being  done  by  organized  medicine 
to  rid  itself  of  the  incompetents.  Doctors 
who  traffic  in  narcotics,  abortions  and 
other  criminal  acts  are  expelled  when 
convicted,  but  few  who  are  forced  to  payoff 
in  civil  courts  for  professional  bungling 
are  ever  dropped.  This  is  a  definite  factor 
in  loss  of  public  confidence  toward  the 
medical  profession. 

6.  Certain  corrective  programs  are  being 
developed  by  some  progressive  medical 


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cii'tiis,  and  by  ilic  forlliriuhl  crusading  of  a 
ruiinlx  r  of  leading  doclors.  Their  actions  and 
words  arc  l)<■^;lnMinK  l<>  rouse  tlic  slumlx'rinn, 
coniplaci-nt  momlwrs  of  llie  medical  profes- 
sion into  realizinti,  as  Doctor  Hundley,  of 
Virginia,  says,  thai  "one  rotten  apple  will 
spoil  the  barn;!." 

Dr.  jolm  Trible  Thomas  Hundley,  mem- 
ber of  an  old  VirKinia  family,  is  a  (ifly-four- 
year-old  I.ynciiburK  |)liysician  who  is  the 
imniediale  past  president  of  liis  slate's  medi- 
cal society.  I-'or  twenty-five  years  he  has 
been  concerned  with  what  he  terms  the 
"dcfmile  delerioralion  in  the  friendly  and 
UuslinK  altitude  of  the  public  lo  the  medical 
profession,  and  llie  development  of  an  alli- 
lude  of  suspicion."  Before  "soundinn  off." 
he  approaclied  the  i)robleni  scicnl ideally  by 
conduclinK  a  one-man  |K)11  of  1(K)  residents 
of  his  area,  a  selected  cross  section  of  the 
community.  What  they  lold  him  about  doc- 
tors led  him  lo  conclude  there  was  "consid- 
erable justification"  for  the  public's  loss  of 
conlidence  in  llie  medical  profession. 

Ill  iiis  valedictory  address  lo  The  Medical 
Sociely  of  Virginia,  Ihe  outKoinK  president 
bluntly  told  iiis  colleagues: 

'''riu'  iii«-<li('al  |H'<>r<-.s><ii>n  Liiouh,  aiul 
lh<'  piil>li<-  siis|M-<-|s.  ihiii  iill  is  not  \v<-ll. 
'I'll*'  \asl  Mill  jiiril  >  oltlio  piiKl  i  I  ioin-rs  «>r 
iii4-(li<-iii<-  and  prart  i<'<'  I  Ik-  iilralH 
«>f  profession.  Itiil  llii'ir  ai«-  excep- 

lioiis.  'I'lio  ar«-  few,  hiil  llu-ir  nii.si|«-<-dK 
.stand  out  like  sort- lliiniilis.  \s <ine  rol  Icii 
appU'  >vill  s|M>il  tilt-  l>;irr<-l,  .so  tlx-  nii.s- 
<l<*e<ls  ofone  hlat'U  sli<-*-p  in  a  eoniiiiiinily 
will  counli-rael  the  skilirul,  <-<>n.s<-icii- 
tious,  raillifiii  and  unst-Uisli  pra<-liec  of 
the  halanee  of  tin-  prolession." 

In  an  interview.  Doctor  Hundley  unequiv- 
ocally lold  me  that  the  medical  profession 
"  too  frequently  justifies  things  thai  it  should 
condemn."  As  an  example,  he  lold  of  a 
Virginia  doctor  caught  red-handed  in  "an 
unelhical  acl."  A  patient  had  an  insurance 
policy  which  paid  a  doctor  a  stipulated 
amount  for  an  operation,  bul  paid  a  larger 
amount  if  Ihe  organ  was  removed.  "The 
doctor  merely  operated  on  the  organ,"  Doc- 
tor Hundley  related.  "Later,  seeking  the 
larger  fee,  he  clumsily  altered  the  hospital 
records  lo  indicate  falsely  that  the  organ 
had  been  removed. 

"A  committee  of  our  society  assembled  all 
the  data  and  turned  it  over  to  the  insurance 
company.  No  action  was  taken,  and  the  man 
still  is  practicing." 

There  is  a  border  line  between  indefensible 
medical  malpractice  and  the  type  of  acci- 
dents that  cannot  be  wholly  avoided.  It  is 
this  partly  intangible  boundary  which  deter- 
mines the  outcome  of  literally  thousands  of 
malpractice  claims  yearly.  In  attempting  lo 
determine  whether  the  border  line  often  is 
transgressed.  I  sought  out  victims  who  had 
collected  malpractice  judgments,  and  recon- 
structed other  cases  with  the  help  of  attor- 
neys, legal  records  and  medical  societies.  In 
reporting  these  cases,  I  shall  use  fictitious 
names  for  both  plaintiffs  and  doctors,  even 
where  the  names  are  matters  of  court  record. 

The  first  incident  I  investigated— and,  in 
many  ways,  the  most  touching,  since  it  in- 
volved a  child— was  the  Martin  case.  Nine 
years  ago  last  December.  Mrs.  Dan  Martin, 
a  schoolteacher  and  a  highly  intelligent 
woman,  went  to  the  hospital  to  have  her 
second  child.  She  was  thirty-nine.  Mrs. 
Martin  had  had  a  difficult  time  when  her 
iirst  child  was  born  twelve  years  earlier.  Her 
doctor— the  same  man  who  attended  her 
during  the  first  delivery— decided  that  a 
Caesarean  section  would  be  necessary. 

Mrs.  Martin  went  into  the  city  to  have  her 
baby  at  a  hospital  of  established  reputation. 
Because  of  the  wartime  shortage  of  nurses, 
she  made  arrangements  for  a  personal  friend, 
a  registered  nurse,  to  go  with  her.  This,  as 
it  developed  later,  was  fortunate  for  her. 

Mrs.  Martin's  surgeon,  Dr.  A.,  who  was 
one  of  the  chiefs  of  the  obstetrical  depart- 
ment of  the  hospital,  arranged  for  a  young 
intern.  Dr.  X..  to  assist  him.  The  baby,  a 
perfectly  formed  girl,  was  delivered  and 
turned  over  to  the  intern  for  care.  The 
surgeon  was  unable  to  give  any  personal 
attention  to  the  child,  because  Mrs.  Martin 
(Conlinued  on  Page  195) 


Society's  <  liii  .Mrs. 
(iliarles  A.  .Miiiiii,  Jr.'n 
hlcck  Itrowii  liair  is  u<l- 
in  i  red  everywhere. 
Michael's  adept  fiii(.'ers 
shape  it  after  clcaimiii^' 
with  Iciidercst  (ioiiti 

HlwilMpOO. 


MICHAEL  OF  THE  WALDORF 


Society  hair  stylist 
advises  ""babying'  shampoo  for 
Breath-taking  llair-dos 

TREAT  HAIR  TENDERLY  as  1)  a  h  y 

skin.  It  is  actually  a  part  of  the  tender, 
inner  skin.  Basic  ingredient  of  Conti 
shampoo  is  imported  olive  oil.  same  as 
used  in  beloved  Conti  Baby  Oil,  Conti 
Baby  Powder,  famed  Conti  Castile  Soap. 
Brilliantly  compounded  for  the  special 


needs  of  hair,  C(jiili  ■  bubyiiif;"  sham- 
|)oo  leaves  hair  just  rifrht  for  obedient 
liair-dos.  Pure.  Safe.  Cannot  cause  dry* 
in*.'  of  liair.  A  natural  r»il  jircKJuct  for 
\()ur  hair's  natural  loveliness. 

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regular  size.  89  cents,  family  size. 


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Two  fresh  faiihion  viewpoints — each  a  matter  of  bright  button  strategy. 


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THE   BELTED   CABANA  S H 1 RT  -  flashing  La  Mode's 
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talllode 


JL,    »\    IJ     1     r,     .-^  11     <(     :>l     I-,        J     II     u     1«     IN     \  I, 


March. 


'mom  wrn'mm 


made  in  less  4hat)j|/|||Jl|fr 


Rice/ 


lAesk  made  oP  4hin^  you  already  have  on  hand ! 
 ^  CdSt?  Jusf  l2^-lo2S*^  a  serving! 


/bA  Quick-Quick  Meals 


Here's  the  handiest  cooking  idea  of  the  age . . . 

Minute  Rice  "Pick  o'  the  Pantry"  Suppers!  Glam- 
orous one-dish  meals  you  fix  in  a  few  minutes  with 
Minute  Rice,  canned  soup,  and  any  meat,  poultry, 
seafood,  eggs  or  cheeseyou  happen  to  have  on  hand ! 

rf 


Think  of  the  dozens  of  tempting  combinations 
you  could  dish  up  right  now,  with  things  in  your 
pantry  or  refrigerator.  But  remember— only  quick, 
quick  Minute  Rice  makes  these  meals  so  fast,  so 
easy,  so  sure  to  be  perfect! 


LONG' 


Herei  all  Ybo  need  ftr  PICK  0' THE  PANTRY ^^PPERSt 


^"'"'V  WHITE 


1  PACKAGE  OF 
MINUTE  RICE 

iMlNUTE^ 

;  Rice 


1  CAN  OF 
CONDENSED  SOUP 


1  CUP  OF  CANNED 

OR  LEFTOVER 
MEAT  OR  SEAFOOD 
.  .  .  EGGS  OR  CHEESE 


PLU^ 


CONDENSED 

SOUP 


Cream  of  Chicken 
Mushroom      Tomato  Asparagus 
Celery       Vegetable     Green  Pea 

Here's  all  you  do:  Prepare  I'/icups  Minute  Rice 
as  directed  on  package.  Let  stand  10  minutes. 
Meanwhile,  heat  soup  and  Vi  cup  milk  in  sauce- 
pan, stirring  occasionally.  Mix  and  add  the  cooked 
seafood,  meat,  eggs,  etc.  and  a  dash  of  pepper. 


Tuna  Fish 

Salmon 

Fish  Fillets 

Crab 

Shrimp 

Lobster 

Bacon 

Ham 

Tongue 


Dried  Beef 

Frankfurters 

Luncheon  Meat 

Leftover  Roast 

Chicken 

Turkey 

Cheese 

Hard-cooked  eggs 
Mushrooms 


Product  of 
General  Fo< 


Mix  and  heat.  Serve  as  an  a  la  King  (pour  sauce 
over  rice);  Jumble  (mix  sauce  with  rice);  or 
Casserole  (mix  sauce  with  rice,  top  with  buttered 
bread  crumbs,  brown  lightly  under  broiler).  Treats 
4  or  5— in  less  than  15  minutes! 


Quick  and  Delicious! 

Minute  Rice  gives  you  perfect  rice  every 
time!  Fluffy,  snowy,  tender! 

Quick  and  Ea^y! 

No  washing!  No  rinsing!  No  draining! 
No  steaming!  Minute  Rice  is  pre-cooked 
to  save  work  and  guesswork. 

Quick  and  Nandy! 

Keep  Minute  Rice  on  hand  always!  Get 
the  large  economical  Family  Size! 


tonight-try  this 
"picko'the  pantry"supper 

Tuna  Rice  Jumble.  Prepare  l!4  cups  Minute  Rice  as 
directed  on  package.  Combine  1  can  cream  of  mushroom 
soup  and  Vi  cup  milk.  Heat,  stirring  occasionally.  Add  1 
can  tuna  fish,  drained  and  flaked,  2  tablespoons  diced 
pimento,  dash  of  pepper.  Mix  and  heat  thoroughly.  Stir  in 
2  teaspoons  lemon  juice.  Add  the  rice  and  mix  lightly. 
Garnish  with  lemon  wedges  and  parsley.  Delights  4  or  5. 


1  (Colli  in  mil  from  I'ant-  IV.Ij 
!dinn  jirofusL-ly  from  a  heIn()l■^lla^^(• 
ii  cd  his  full  at  lent  ion. 
ilcrn's  cliiff  dulic-s  were  to  tie  llie 
I  place  droi)s  of  silver-nitrate  solii- 
he  baby's  eyes.  As  Dr.  A.  liimself 
tided,  the  apijlicalion  of  silver  ni- 
(liiires  no  particular  skill.  "It  is 
le  said,  "t)y  nmlwives,  nurses,  slu- 
hysicians,  and  even  those  who  are 
;ated  in  medicine  in  any  way."  It 
jiw  of  most  states  that  the  eyes  of 
I  infants  shall  be  treated  s<H)n  after 
til  such  a  solution. 
Martin's  baby  became  the  victim  of 
■r  of  tragic  circumstances.  The  safest 
of  administering  silver  nitrate,  which 
ospilals  observe,  is  lo  use  ampules 
:1  by  druu  houses.  Use  of  tlie  seale<l 
i  minimizes  danger  of  deterioration 
1  aj;e,  and  the  possibility  for  error  in 
■n^^th  and  (|uanlity  of  the  solution, 
lartin's  hospital  mixed  its  own  solu- 
id  handed  it  out  in  jars.  Interns  and 
using  it  on  newl>orn  infants  simply 
up  the  solution  in  a  syringe,  or 
•,  and  s(|uirted  away, 
was  what  happened  to  Mrs.  Mar- 
by,  and  st)melhinn  went  wrong.  Her 
cstilied  that  the  supervisor  handed 
em  the  b(.)llle  and  syringe.  "He 
I  the  silver  nitrate  in  the  left  eye," 
.  "Then  he  went  lo  the  right  eye  and 
a  great  many  drojjs.  It  wasn't  just' 
fto. ...  He  said  to  the  supervisor, '  Do 
nk  1  hit  it?'  She  said,  "I  don't  think 
h  that,  he  went  back  and  inillcd  the 
again." 

with  this  dubious  procedure  there  is 
a  debatable  possibility  that  damage 
ave  been  avoided  if  the  infant's  eyes 
■n  promptly  irrigated,  as  is  the  cus- 
ere  they?  Mrs.  Martin's  nurse  testi- 
re  was  no  irrigation  during  the  "five 
minutes"  in  which  she  was  present 
e  solution  was  applied.  The  intern, 
vorn  deposition,  said,  "The  silver 
was  washed  out  with  saline  solution 
ic  acid,"  but  he  did  not  say  how  soon, 
morning  ugly  red  circles  were  dis- 
around  the  baby's  eyes,  and  there 
vy  discharge.  The  hospital  went  into 
of  activity,  placing  the  child  in  a 
room  with  nurses  assigntxl  to  her 
d  a  prominent  eye  specialist  in  at- 
;e.  It  did  this  without  consulting  the 
.  The  efforts  w^ere  too  late.  The  right 
ittle  Linda  Martin,  as  she  had  been 
was  horribly  burned  and  useless;  the 
was  scarred  and  it  was  touch  and  go 
■  it  could  be  saved, 
hristmas  Day.  Mr.  Martin  went  to 
pital  to  bring  home  his  child,  then 
eeks  old.  He  had  paid  his  wife's  bill 


and  his  attorney  advised  him  not  lo  pay  any 
charges  for  the  six'cial  care  the  hospital  or- 
dered for  the  child  He  was  |)resented  with 
a  large  bill,  and,  as  he  recalls  it,  "I  ihouglii 
I  was  going  to  have  lo  (ight  to  gel  out  of 
that  i)lace  with  my  baby."  They  took  home 
another  sjjccial  nurse,  as  Lind.i  s  burned  eyes 
re<|uired  hourly  attention, 

Atxntt  three  weeks  later,  Linda's  right  eyi- 
began  reacting  badly.  "It  wasn't  like  an  eye 
at  all,  il  was  like  proud  (lesh,"  sjiys  Mrs. 
Martin,  who,  even  after  nine  years,  Ikih 
difliculty  talking  alxnil  il.  She  and  Mr. 
Martin  took  the  baby  lo  s«'e  the  sjH'cialisl 
since  deceased  whom  the  hosi)ilal  had 
called  into  the  case.  After  examining  ihe 
baby  and  directing  continuation  of  the  pre- 
scrilx'd  treatment,  he  called  in  his  assistant 
as  a  witness  and  demanded  i)ayment  of  his 
bill,  approxim-itely  !i;2(K).  Mr.  Martin,  who 
is  a  soft-siMiken,  nonlx-lligerent  man,  ex- 
l)lained  that  his  attorney  had  advised  him 
not  to  pay  until  the  matter  was  settled  with 
the  liosi)ital.  The  doctor  Ix  came  abusive  and 
insulting.  "Unless  half  the  bill  is  paid  before 
you  leave  here  tcxiay,  I  will  not  go  on  with 
the  careof  your  child."  he  told  the  distraught 
parents.  Mrs.  Martin  was  semihystericiil 
when  they  left.  They  transferred  the  case 
immediately  to  another  eye  specialist. 

Meanwhile,  the  hosi)ital  had  held  an  in- 
quiry. It  claimed  that  lalxjratory  tests 
showed  the  strength  of  the  solution  was  2.1 
per  cent  and  contended  though  the  law  of 
that  slate  stipulates  that  a  1  per  cent  solu- 
tion be  used  -  that  this  strength  was  not  dan- 
gerous. The  Martins,  however,  never  have 
believed  the  hospital's  story. 

By  the  following  May,  careful  treatment 
had  restored  partial  vision  to  Linda's  left 
eye,  but  the  right  eye  was  in  such  deplorable 
condition  that  an  operation  for  its  removal 
was  imperative.  It  was  necessary  to  implant 
a  plast  ic  ball,  over  which  a  glass  eye  later  was 
placed.  Linda  underwent  two  operations. 
The  doctor  who  performed  the  ojx;rations, 
incidentally,  told  me  that,  in  his  opinion, 
mandatory  use  of  silver-nitrate  solution  in 
the  eyes  of  newborn  infants  is  "a  cruel,  al- 
most medieval  and  unnecessary  process"  and 
that  the  law  should  be  repealed.  "  In  cases 
where  infection  is  suspected,  penicillin  or 
other  noncaustic  drugs  can  be  used,"  he  de- 
clared. (The  AMA  says  that  "most  authori- 
ties" still  favor  silver  nitrate.) 

Eventually,  the  Martins  filed  suit  to  re- 
cover for  Linda's  injury.  Costs  of  the  opera- 
lions,  the  glass  eyes  which  must  be  specially 
blown  and  replaced  at  freciuent  intervals, 
and  other  special  care  were  straining  their 
modest  income.  The  law  is  such  that  the 
hospital,  as  a  nonprofit,  charitable  institu- 
tion (though  it  takes  private  patients  for 
pay),  was  immune  from  financial  responsi- 


"There  tvill  be  a  special  prize  for 
the  one  who  goes  home  first!'' 


bihly.  Ihe  mlein  by  iIijh  lime  wan  in  iIm 
Army  and  out  (»f  the  country ;  even  il  a  judg- 
ment w;w  relumed  .igainsi  hitn.  it  is  doubtful 
if  Ihe  MarlinH  could  have  (oINrie*!  it.  nu- 
suit  liad  lo  fx-  liltd  againxl  Dr.  A  .  the  nur 
geon.  Kven  Ihough  lie  actiuiily  had  no  |Kirt  in 
the  (Limage  to  Ihe  kiby,  ilic  .\Iarlinh  anfl 
they  did  not  like  lo  do  it.  for  ihey  do  imiI 
blame  I)r,  A  were  force<l  lo  contend  thai, 
as  diief  of  the  o|x  rating  r</»m,  he  was  legally 
resiKjnsible  for  the  inlern'H  negligi  nce. 

I  he  cane  linally  came  lo  trial  in  March, 
lfM7.  The  intern  Homewliere  ovcrHea>t 
could  not  Ix'  sunimonefl  as  a  wilnetw.  "Sit  far 
as  d(xtors  are  conti  rned.  we've  got  a  cUtnttl 
corijoralion  lu  re,  "  one  of  Ihe  Martini*'  allor- 
neyscommente<i,  "  It's  practically  im|X(s«ible 
to  gel  onedixtor  lo  testify  against  anolhi  r. 
In  this  cas<',  we  were  lucky  the  nurw  wan  a 
friend  of  Mrs.  Marlin'H.  She  saw  Ihe  whole 
thmg  and  was  willing  lo  testify." 

ICven  so.  the  trial  judge  ordered  a  nonsuit 
in  favor  of  the  defiaidani  d(xlor,  holding 
that  under  legal  precedents  m  that  slate  he 
was  not  liable  for  the  intern's  negligence.  Il 
was  two  years  laler  tx'fore  the  Marlins'  at- 
torneys won  a  rt  vers;il  in  Ihe  slate  Supreme 
CxHirt  making  legal  lustory,  incidentally, 
in  that  state.  By  this  time  the  whole  subject 
had  Ix-come  so  ])ainful  to  the  Martins  that, 
rather  tliiin  go  Uirou;;h  a  new  trial,  ihey 
agreed  to  settle  Linda's  claim  for  ^;iL'..")l)().  .\ 
good  part  of  this  went  for  lawyers'  and  wit- 
ness fees  and  other  special  exjK-nses.  Wluil 
remains  is  a  small  price  for  an  eye. 

Dr.  A.,  who,  all  agree,  was  personally 
blameless,  still  is  delivering  babies  in  his  home 
city.  He  disass<x-iated  himsi-lf  from  the  hos- 
pital where  the  accident  occurred.  Tlie  'hos- 
pital, of  course,  still  is  in  business.  Dr.  X., 
the  intern,  served  in  the  Army  Medical 
Corps;  returned  to  continue  hLs  medical 
training;  was  recalled  to  military  service  for 
duty  (in  this  country)  when  the  Korean  war 
broke  out,  and  now  has  an  appointment  as 
pathologist  at  an  Eastern  hospital.  He  is  a 
member  of  the  medical  society  of  the  county 
in  which  the  accident  (xxurred.  He  says  he 
always  has  regretted  the  accident  deeply,  but 
does  not  feel  he  was  lo  blame. 

Often,  dreadful  things  hapiien  to  patients 
and  there  is  no  financial  recovery  at  all.  1 
traced  one  such  incident,  which  I  shall  call 
the  Drury  case,  by  digging  back  into  legal 
records  of  a  Southwestern  stale.  The  case  in- 
volved a  fantastic  set  of  circumstances  result- 
ing in  the  death  of  an  unl»m  child  and  its 
mother.  The  two  doctors  involved,  whose 
conduct  had  been  scathingly  criticized  by  the 
Court  of  Appeals  of  their  slate,  not  only  won 
their  case  but  still  are  practicing  medicine. 

On  February  8,  1934,  Mrs.  Drury  was 
delivered  of  a  child  at  her  home,  twenty 
miles  from  a  town  of  medium  size.  She  was 
attended  by  a  woman  physician.  Dr.  H..  who 
had  told  her  that,  from  her  appearance,  she 
might  have  twins.  The  doctx>r  even  joked 
with  neighbors  tliat  she  and  Mrs.  Drury 
were  "working  on  halves  "—that,  if  two 
children  were  \x>m,  the  mother  would  taki' 
one  and  the  doctor  the  other! 

The  delivery  was  normal,  but,  immedi- 
ately aftenvard  women  neighbors  who  were 
assisting  noticed  "a  large  mass  or  knot"  in 
the  upper  part  of  Mrs.  Dairy's  abdomen. 
In  a  few  hours  it  shifted  lo  the  lower  part  of 
the  pelvic  cavity.  Whatever  it  was,  Mrs. 
Drury  was  in  extreme  pain,  and,  two  days 
later.  Dr.  B.  had  her  taken  to  the  nearby 
town  lo  a  small  private  hospital  of  which  Dr. 
C.  a  surgeon,  was  chief  of  stafT  and  director. 
Mrs.  Drury  was  there  eleven  days,  during 
W'hich  time,  the  Appeals  Court  noted,  the 
mass  in  her  abdomen  was  "very  noticeable" 
and  "her  suffering  was  intense."  Her  condi- 
tion was  diagnosed  as  "  inflammation,  tumor, 
locked  bowels  and  gas  on  the  stomach,"  and 
slie  was  treated  with  enemas,  compresses  and 
sedatives.  At  no  lime  was  she  X-raytd. 
though  the  hospital  had  such  equipment.  Mr. 
Drury.  a  poor  man,  was  given  ratlier  curt 
treatment  by  both  Dr.  C.  and  tlie  business  ! 
manager  of  the  hospital,  and  was  required  i 
to  sign  a  promissory  note  before  the  "treat- 
ment" began. 

Mrs.  Drury  got  steadily  worse.  Finally 
the  hospital  sent  her  home  w  ith  instructions 
to  keep  up  the  "treatment."  In  a  week  she 


TUFFy 

cleans  off  sticky, 
crusted  foods - 


yet  always 

rinses  clean 

Amazing!  eggs,  mush,  even  gummy 
macaroni  come  right  off  .  .  .  then 
rinse  right  out  of  "Tuffy".  Because 
"Tuffy"  is  plastic  and  can't  hold 
scraps ...  won't  turn  sour,  ever! 

Imagine!  "Tuffy"  is  gentle  enough 
to  wash  china  and  silver,  too  .  .  . 
Icosens  sticky  food  much  faster 
than  a  dishrag.  Then  '  Tuflfy"  dries 
quickly,  stays  clean  and  sweet 
through  months  of  hardest  use. 

never  stains  •  never  smells 
never  scratches 


U.S.  PAT.  NO.  2,COt,771 
©  THE  S-O.S.  CO.. CHICAGO; 
Fry  or  CANADA.  LTD., TORONTO 


On  Grapefruit! 

Sioux  Bee  Honey  sweetens  grapefruit 
to  perfection.  For  mellowest  flavor, 
pour  it  on  the  night  before. 


Seti^e  'em  M 

How  long  has  it  been  since  you  feasted  on 
waffles  and  honey.'  Or  on  pancakes  and  honey? 
Sioux  Bee  Honey,  that  is !  Well,  well .  .  .  it's  high 
time  you  took  Sue  Bee's  tip.  On  your  next  food- 
shopping  jaunt,  pick  up  a  box  of  your  favorite 
pancake  or  waffle  mix — and  some  super-deli- 
cious Sioux  Bee  Honey.  And  then  rediscover 
a  treat! 

Better  get  both  kinds  of  Sioux  Bee  Honey. 
There  s  the  //quici  honey,  of  course;  also  there's 
Honey  Spread,  crystallized,  to  spoon,  not  pour — 
and  wait  till  you  taste  that,  not  only  on  waffles 
or  pancakes,  but  on  hot  rolls,  French  toast,  or 
good  plain  sandwich  bread.  There  are  so  many 
ways  to  enjoy  America's  choicest  honey  .  .  .  the 
u'holesomest  sweet  for  everybody. 

COLORFUL  FREE  BOOKLET  contains  honey  recipes  that 
are  excitingly  different.  Write  for  it,  to  Sioux  Honey 
Assn.,  Dept.  L-353,  509  Plymouth  St.,  Sioux  City  6,  Iowa. 

Fo  I  finest  honey, 

say  ^£^&" 


196 

was  in  agonized  condition.  On  March  3,  she 
was  taken  to  another  hospital  in  the  same 
town.  Doctors  there  decided  emergency  sur- 
gery was  needed,  and  operated. 

The  cause  of  her  trouble  was  quickly  re- 
vealed. There  was  another  fetus— the  twin 
to  the  baby  Dr.  B.  had  delivered— which  the 
woman  physician,  despite  her  feeling  that 
Mrs.  Drury  might  bear  twins,  had  over- 
looked! The  uterus  had  ruptured,  presum- 
ably after  delivery  of  the  first  child,  and  the 
second  fetus  had  slipped  from  the  womb  into 
the  abdomen,  where,  of  course,  it  had  died. 
It  had  been  there  from  February  8  to  March  4. 

Dr.  C.'s  X  ray,  which  he  did  not  use, 
would  have  discovered  this.  As  the  appellate 
court  sarcastically  wrote,  the  doctors  at 
C.'s  hospital,  though  they  failed  to  X-ray 
the  patient,  "promptly  made  an  X  ray  .  .  . 
|of  the  husband's]  pocketbook  and  assets" 
and  "succeeded  in  getting  a  good  exposure." 

On  March  11,  Mrs.  Drury  died.  Her  hus- 
band, left  with  three  minor  children,  brought 
suit  against  the  hospital  and  the  two  doctors. 
The  two  defendant  doctors  did  not  take  the 
witness  stand,  and  the  plaintiff  was  unable 
to  get  any  doctors— not  even  the  doctors  at 
the  second  hospital,  who  discovered  what 
had  happened— to  testify  as  expert  witnesses 
for  him.  The  trial  court  directed  a  verdict 
for  the  defendants,  and  the  case  was  ap- 
pealed. The  appellate  court,  highly  critical 
of  the  attitude  of  the  medical  profession  in 
this  case,  wrote: 

"It  is  clear  from  the  record  that  appel- 
lants were  handicapped  ...  by  the  reluc- 
tance of  physicians  to  testify  with  refer- 
ence to  the  mistakes  of  other  doctors.  It 
is  a  matter  of  common 
knowledge  that  they 
have  a  rule,  known  as 
'professional  courtesy,' 
which  is  endemic  in  the 
medical  profession.  .  .  . 
With  reference  to  this 
case  it  seems  to  have 
become  an  epidemic.  .  .  . 
There  were  eleven  prom- 
inent doctors  listed  on  the  hospital's 
stationery,  and  from  none  of  them  was  a 
sound  heard.  Even  Dr.  B.,  ...  a  woman, 
failed  to  chirp." 

The  appellate  court  reversed  the  trial 
court.  At  the  second  trial,  it  again  was  im- 
possible to  obtain  the  medical  testimony 
necessary  to  establish  malpractice.  This 
time,  however,  colleagues  came  in  to  support 
the  defendant  doctors.  The  jury  returned  a 
verdict  for  the  defendants,  and  this  time, 
on  appeal,  it  was  sustained.  Mr.  Drury  thus 
was  left  without  recompense.  His  attorney, 
J.  E.  Vickers,  has  commented: 

"Under  the  law  as  interpreted  by  the 
courts,  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  recover 
a  judgment  against  any  physician  who 
has  a  fair  reputation,  since  the  courts 
hold  in  effect  that  malpractice  upon  the 
part  of  such  physician  must  be  estab- 
lished by  the  testimony  of  other  physi- 
cians; not  by  testimony  of  a  lay  witness. 
I  have  filed  a  number  of  such  suits  with- 
out success,  since  it  has  been  my  experi- 
ence that  the  doctors  are  a  very  tight- 
knit  organization  who  would  rather  hang 
together  than  separately.  ...  It  is  only 
in  rare  instances  that  one  doctor  will 
testify  against  another  in  a  malpractice 
case,  regardless  of  how  aggravating  the 
situation  may  be." 

The  hospital  where  the  original  failure  to 
discover  the  late  Mrs.  Drury's  condition 
occurred  still  is  in  business.  Dr.  C,  a  stock- 
holder in  the  hospital,  still  is  a  practicing 
surgeon  in  the  same  city,  though,  because 
of  his  age,  he  is  not  so  active  as  he  used  to 
be.  Dr.  B.,  the  woman  physician,  has  moved 
to  a  large  city  in  the  same  state  and  is 
practicing.  Both  doctors  are  members  in 
good  standing  of  their  local  medical  societies. 

Many  doctors,  if  they  inadvertently  injure 
a  patient,  promptly  tell  the  patient  what  has 
happened  and  do  everything  within  their 
power  to  make  amends.  Progressive  medical 
societies  today  make  a  fX)licy  of  providing 
the  best  available  medical  care  free  to  cor- 
rect damage  done  by  a  member,  and  some, 
which  have  their  own  malpractice  insurance 
programs,  even  back  up  the  medical  repairs 


I  always  get  the  better 
when  I  argue  alone. 

—OLIVER  GOLDSMITH 


6jai!  t&- 


with  voluntary  financial  settleitM 
most  such  cases,  the  patient  who 
treated  fairly  and  honestly  is  not  ia 
be  vengeful  or  unreasonable. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  have  hi 
in  which  the  courts  have  held  that 
doctors  not  only  are  guilty  of  mal 
but  have  attempted  fraudulently  to 
the  injury  from  the  patient.  Someti  j  i 
facts  are  concealed  until  the  legal  st  ,'  -  \ 
limitations— the  period  of  time  in  wh  ^  J 
can  be  filed — has  expired.  ^  7 

One  West  Coast  case  which  went  - 
a  doctor  involved  a  laborer  whose  I 
arm  was  treated  with  X  ray  and  bu  - 
such  a  manner  that  a  cancerous  gro  -  -I'ii 
suited.  According  to  evidence  brouj  j 
at  the  trial,  the  doctor  kept  assuring!  j 
pain  and  inflammation  were  a  result  1 1| 
original  injury  and  that  nothing  wjlj 
ously  wrong.  The  patient  did  not  d  'j 
the  truth  until  after  the  one-year  pei  (-'''^ 
limitation  prescribed  by  law  in  tiai^i 
had  elapsed.  The  trial  court  directed  1  \vt 
ment  for  the  doctor  on  the  ground  tl  3 
injured  party  waited  too  long  to  a  Oj 
appeal,  however,  the  higher  court  h<ii(i'* 
delay  was  due  to  the  doctor's  frau jij' i''" 
concealment  of  the  injury  for  which  ! 
responsible.  It  eventually  cost  the  (jijf  '!i 
who  carried  only  $10,000  insurance,  $.  Ji.<i.» 
to  settle  the  case,  according  to  a  mi 
society  official.  The  doctor  has  retir«/J,lf' 
practice,  though  he  still  has  his  licenseai,(»^ff 
member  of  his  county  medical  society  1 

Another  suit  alleging  both  malpractii  ^1 ! 
fraud  was  filed  in  a  North  Central  stati  ] 
injured  party,  a  woman,  related  inhe  ij 
that  she  had  engage  i 
>v  tfrn'^m  imt         osteopaths— one  lie  Ji 
to   perform  surgerj^i^ 
treat  her  for  a  thyroiJiijK 
dition.  An  operatioi  • 
performed,  and  in 
course  of  it,  she  ctei 
her  laryngeal  nerve 
severed,  causing  hertj 
her  power  of  speech' 
woman  contended  that  the  two  defenfil 
advised  her  that  her  mute  condition 
due  to  lack  of  calcium  and  to  asthmz 
a  heart  condition."  For  more  than  two 
(the  statute  of  limitations  in  that  state  i' 
years),  she  charged,  they  treated  her" 
calcium,  adrenalin  and  digitalis 
which  would  have  the  slightest  eff( 
severed  laryngeal  nerve. 

Finally,  after  going  to  a  hospital 
covering  her  true  condition,  she  bn 
treatment.  Physicians  there  advised 
said,  "that  her  vocal  cords,  laryngeal 
and  other  nerves  had  been  completely 
severed  and  paralyzed,  and  that  her  pre 
condition  .  .  .  would  never  improve 

This  unfortunate  woman,  too,  lost  the'' 
round  of  her  damage  suit  in  the  trial  c 
because  the  statute  of  limitations  had  lap 
The  Supreme  Court,  however,  reversed  ; 
lower  court's  decision,  holding  that 
plaintiff  had  been  deceived  and  that 
statute  should  not  begin  to  run  against 
until  she  had  learned  the  truth.  It  was  a 
low  victory,  however,  her  attorneys  told 
because  the  courts  of  that  state  have  1 
that,  in  cases  involving  malpractice  by  os 
paths,  the  plaintiff  must  submit  expert  t( 
mony  against  the  defendant  by  another 
teopath.  "We  were  unable  to  get  an  osi 
path  to  testify  against  the  defendants,  so 
had  to  settle  for  a  nominal  sum  before 
case  came  to  trial,"  one  of  her  lawyers  stat 
The  osteopathic  surgeon  still  practices 
the  same  city,  and  the  other  defendant  ia 
the  staff  of  an  osteopathic  institution  ^ 
neighboring  state.  As  for  the  woman, 
having  undergone  another  operation,  she 
speaks  with  the  aid  of  a  tube  in  her  throi 
Indiscriminate  use  of  electro-shock  tn 
ment  as  therapy  for  suspected  mental 
turbances  has  led  to  many  malpract 
claims.  At  best,  it  is  a  treatment  that  shoi 
be  administered  by  only  qualified  experts, 
there  is  considerable  danger  of  the  patien 
sustaining  a  bone  fracture  or  other  serious 
juries— including  death— in  the  spasm  tY 
accompanies  the  shock. 

One  of  the  most  fantastic  situations  I  ( 
countered  was  the  case  of  a  practicing  ps: 


II     11     M  I 


insist  on  Hygeia 
sjit-Shaped  Nipples 


#/ 


~l//>rSi  «'v<>n  I 


ariiioii 


by  Sl< 
Last  Aurora,  IS.  y. 


0  a/H^'  7  an  HI  I  lis 


i-iialiirnl  sli:i|i<'' 
s  liir  Mir  !   I  lie 
lliin;;  lo  iiiollicr's  l)ic;isl   is  llic 
Ni|)|)l.'." 

eia  is  llic  iialionally  iiilvcrlised 
lliosi  widely  used  in  lios|iil:il  tiiit- 
Il"s  till'  only  Ixilllc   uilli  nipple 
like  Mdlliei  s  lireasi,  ;m(l  helps 
tc  pr()p<T  jaw  anil  teeth  loiniation. 


HycEiA 

BEST  TO  MOTHER'S  BREAST 


bpring. 


4D-SM0CKED  DRESS 


nding  for  spring  in  her  hand- 
ed Everglaze  striped  chambray  by 
Flinders.  The  collar  and  cuffs  are 
aroadcloth  with  hand  embroidered 
stitching.  Priced  at  about  $8.00. 
Polly  Flinders  hand-smocked  frocks 
I  months  to  10  years  at  $2.95  to 
.  Baylis  Bros.,  226  E.  8th  St.,  Cincin- 
)hio. 


chiiitrisl  who,  accordiiiK  to  tlie  medical 
society  of  his  county,  adriiinislers  electro- 
shock  Ircalment  almost  aH  freely  as  a  dnin- 
slorc  sells  aspirin. 

■'do  to  his  oriice  with  a  case  of  daiidrulf 
and  you'll  wind  up  with  a  shock  tiealiiienl !" 
a  medical-society  ollicial  exclaimed. 

In  one  case  in  which  ne^Oit-'.ence  was  al- 
iened, a  patient  sulfered  a  had  Iracliiic  in  the 
result  inn  spasm.  In  the  ensiiin).'.  m  vest  i(.',:il  ion, 
hisown  medical  society  actually  iiad  the  psy- 
chiatrist examined  by  a  panel  of  the  coun- 
try's leading  psychiatrists,  and  :ill  agreed 
lhal  /)('  was  a  mental  case. 

"He  should  not  he  allowed  to  practice;  he 
should  he  receiving;  treatment  himself,"  the 
society  ollicial  slated.  "The  law  provides 
that  insanity  is  grounds  for  revocation  of  a 
medical  license;  yet  the  law  also  says  the 
test  for  insanity  is  the  ability  to  dislinnuish 
rinht  from  wronn.  lie  can  distinguish  ri^;ht 
from  wronn,  so  neither  we  nor  the  licensinji 
hoard  can  touch  him    we're  stumped! 

■"Her*-  is  an  iii<li\ idiial  who,  our  own 
|>s\eliiali-isls  sa> ,  is  prohalilx  ({oiiiK  l<i 
kill  soiim-IkxIv  Hoiii«-«la>,  an<l  «<•  «'airi  <lo 
a  lliiii^  iiiilil  he  iloes. 

eaiieeled  liiH  iiialprael i<-i-  in- 
Niiraii<-<-.  and  lie  has  no  liospilal  prixi- 
K'fit'.H.  We  will  lr\  al  llie  eurreni  Hi-Nsion 
of  Ihe  Ifinislalnre  lit  fjel  llie  law  ain<  ii<l<  <l. 
IJlit  lliis  is  a  (liiliioiis — and  iunp  —  pro- 
Cftlnre,  and.,  ni«-anw  liile,  lie  l  if-'lil  on 

<laii^<T<>usly  <-xp<TinH-nliii^  1)11  llie  piililii- 
with  hi.s  (■It-elro-shix-k  niaeliine." 

lMe<lical  -sin-ieties  ailniit  that  few  iloe- 
tors  lose  their  nienihership  in  profes- 
sional ussoeialions  or  their  lii-<-nses  lo 
pra<-tio<'  hoeanse  of  nef;lif;<-iu-»'  or  ineoni- 
potene«-.  The  alM»rlionisls,  iiareolie  Iraf- 
(iekers  am!  flagrant  ilrunkurils  are  ex- 
pelled, l>iil  Ihe  hnn^lers  who  make  mis- 
takes in  the  operating  aixl  eonsiillalion 
rooms  eun  han^on.  .\nlhorities  who  have 
stiiilied  rev<»eati<>n  aetions  say  a  iloe- 
tor  is  in  greater  danger  of  losing  hi.s 
professional-so<:iety  niemht'rship  for  un- 
ethical advertising  than  he  is  for  l>uleli- 
cring  a  patient. 

Many  malpractice  suits  result  when  sur- 
geons leave  foreign  bodies,  such  as  needles, 
instruments,  pads,  sponges,  and  so  on,  in- 
side a  patient.  One  of  the  bad  jokes  in 
medicine  is  about  the  surgeon  who  left  the 
towel  inside  the  patient.  This  was  no  joke 
to  a  U.S.  soldier  who  underwent  a  gall- 
bladder operation  in  an  Army  hospital  in 
1945.  The  military  surgeon  left  a  towel  thirty 
inches  long  by  eighteen  inches  wide  inside 
him,  and  there  was  no  doubt  where  it  came 
from  because  it  was  stamped  "  U.S.A. " !  The 
soldier  couldn't  recover,  though,  for  the 
U.  S.  District  Court  held  he  was  not  covered 
by  the  Federal  Tort  Claims  Act  because  the 
injury  was  a  service-connected  disability. 

As  an  example  that  almost  anything  can 
happen,  a  $1,300,000  malpractice  suit— one 
of  the  largest  on  record— was  filed  in  Chicago 
recently  by  Attorney  Louis  M.  March  in 
behalf  of  a  Chicago  janitor  who  claimed 
that,  when  he  went  to  a  hospital  for  an 
amputation,  the  doctors  cut  off  the  wrong 
leg !  After  the  healthy  limb  was  removed  by 
mistake,  it  still  was  necessary  to  amputate 
the  diseased  limb,  so  now  the  man  is  without 
either  leg.  The  suit  names  the  hospital  and 
sixty-seven  doctors,  nurses,  directors  and 
other  agents  of  the  hospital  as  codefendants. 

This  sort  of  mistake  sounds  incredible,  but 
actually  there  are  numerous  similar  cases  on 
record.  In  a  Western  state,  an  insurance 
company  settled  an  almost  identical  case  for 
$50  000  and  hospital  costs— and  the  surgeon 
who  made  the  mistake  is  still  practicing. 
There  even  have  been  operations  where  a 
limb  was  amputated  when  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent type  of  operation  was  indicated. 
There  also  are  cases  where  the  wrong  patient 
is  operated  on.  One  West  Coast  insurance 
attorney  who  lost  a  case  in  which  the  wrong 
patient  was  cut  open  said  he  can  see  no 
excuse  for  such  blunders.  "There  is  a  chart," 
he  said.  "The  anesthetist  can  ask  the  patient 
his  name  before  putting  him  to  sleep." 

While  there  was  no  lack  of  case  histories, 
there  was  no  reliable  statistical  yardstick  to 
determine  how  many  cases  actually  reach 


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courts,  how  many  cases  are  settled  before 
suit  is  filed  or  before  the  trial  is  held,  and 
how  many  instances  occur  in  which  patients 
have  possible  grounds  for  suit  but  do  not 
take  action. 

There  are,  however,  some  revealing  guides 
to  the  statistical  picture.  "The  incidence  of 
malpractice  claims  increased  tenfold  during 
the  decade  between  1930  and  1940,"  Doctor 
Louis  Regan,  the  West  Coast  malpractice 
autiiority,  declared  in  a  special  report  for  the 
American  Medical  Association.  Although 
malpractice  claims  dropped  somewhat  during 
World  War  II,  most  authorities  agree  that 
suits  and  claims— not  all  of  which  are  valid- 
have  increased  sharply  since  1946. 

Dr.  Regan,  who  became  a  lawyer  after 
being  sued  unsuccessfully  in  an  unjustified 
malpractice  claim,  has  participated  as  con- 
sultant in  more  than  900  malpractice  cases 
He  uses  the  blunt  term,  "legal  blackmail,"  to 
characterize  many  of  these  cases: 

"At  the  present  time,  I  would  say  that 
perhaps  25  per  cent  of  the  malpractice  suits 
filed  in  California  have  some  justification, 
and  that  the  rest  are  without  merit." 

What,  then,  is  to  be  done?  As  indicated 
in  this  article,  the  medical  profession  at 
least  IS  awake  to  the  problem.  A  good  deal 
is  being  done  in  various  parts  of  the  nation 
by  forward-looking  county  medical  societies. 
In  Oakland,  California,  for  instance,  the 
Alameda-Contra  Costa  Medical  Association 
under  the  enlightened  direction  of  its  execu- 
tive secretary,  Rollen  W.  Waterson,  has  a 
clear-cut  program  aimed  at  (a)  stopping  a 
great  deal  of  malpractice  before  it  occurs, 
and  (b)  correcting,  where  it  can,  the  damage 
after  it  is  done. 

The  Alameda  program,  which  can  be 
studied  with  profit  by  every  medical  society 
in  the  country,  was  started  seven  years  ago 
(Neighboring  Contra  Costa  County  joined 
forces  with  it  more  recently.)  "Our  ap- 
proach," says  Executive  Secretary  Waterson, 
"is  based  on  a  simple  and  direct  principle— 
you  can't  kick  people  in  the  teeth  in  private 
and  expect  them  to  love  you  in  public."  The 
program  has  many  admirable  features  for 
improving  doctor-patient  relationships,  and 
It  IS  a  known  fact  that  this,  in  turn,  heads  off 
many  "spite"  suits. 

As  for  coping  with  actual  malpractice,  the 
association  makes  an  effort  to  keep  up  with 
breaches  through  its  own  watchdog  com- 
mittees. It  insists— with  reasonably  success- 
ful results— that  its  doctor-members,  who 
are  insured  through  the  society,  report  their 
mistakes  when  they  occur,  not  after  they 
reach  the  suing  stage.  The  association  then 
attempts,  through  free  remedial  medical 
service,  to  repair  the  damage,  if  possible. 
Then,  with  full  co-operation  of  its  insurance 
underwriter,  it  offers  what  it  believes  to  be  a 
fair  settlement.  Thomas  Hadfield,  the  insur- 
ance representative,  confirms  that  the  insur- 
ance company  "always  abides  "  by  the  med- 
ical society's  recommendations  of  what 
would  be  just  damages.  He  says  the  company 
has  made  voluntary  payments  in  numerous 
cases  which  it  probably  could  win  in  court. 

Waterson  and  other  officials  contend  that, 
by  rigid  regulation  of  hospital  privileges,' 
doctors  who  make  serious  mistakes  are  pre- 
vented from  doing  further  damage.  They 
concede,  however,  that,  even  in  progressive 
Alameda  County,  no  doctors  have  been 
dropped  for  negligence  or  incompetence. 

For  further  diagnosis  of  the  problem,  I 
went  to  Lynchburg  to  meet  Doctor  Hundley, 
past  president  of  The  Medical  Society  of 
Virginia.  I  also  studied  Doctor  Hundley's 
address  to  his  colleagues,  which  he  called 
"The  Beam  in  Our  Eye. "  In  it,  he  warned  that 
continued  blindness  to  the  "  sore  spots  which 
we  make  no  apparent  efforts  to  heal"  may 
bring  on  the  era  of  socialized  medicine  which 
many  doctors  fear  so  greatly.  Among  these 
"sore  spots,"  Doctor  Hundley,  an  uncom- 
promising foe  of  socialized  medicine,  listed 
the  following:  Failure  to  take  personal  inter- 
est in  patients;  development  of  "profes- 
sional false  pride"— i.e.  arrogance;  greed— 
i.e.,  overcharging;  failure  of  doctors  to  main- 
tain their  skill  by  keeping  up  with  modern 
developments;  lip  service  to  the  Hippocratic 
ideals,  and  "the  failure  to  professionally  de- 
nounce and  to  discipline  the  chiselers,  the 


black  sheep,  the  dishonest  members  of  our 
profession." 

Developing  these  ideas.  Doctor  Hundley 
also  scored  these  points: 

1.  "Too  often  have  doctors  based  their 
fees  on  'what  the  traffic  will  bear,'  rather 
than  on  honest  appraisal." 

2.  The  "conscientious  disciple  of  Hippoc- 
rates" should  earn  a  reasonable  living,  with 
security  for  his  old  age,  but  should  not  expect 
or  try  la  become  a  wealthy  man. 

3.  Doctors  should  be  concerned  over  the 
general  practitioner  "who  persists  in  treat- 
ing a  condition  for  which  he  lacks  training 
and  experience."  Further,  they  should  refer 
patients  to  specialists  they  know  are  com- 
petent, rather  than  to  friends  who  will  pay 
off  in  "reciprocated  favors." 

4.  After  being  licensed  to  practice,  an 
indolent  doctor  may  sit  back  and  completely 


The  Lovers 

Bh  MAnnvl  Wifiaam 

She  is  fourteen,  misgivingly  still  a 
child, 

Subject  to  spasms  of  laughter, 

catch ings  of  breath, 
To  spells  of  brooding  with  eyes 

both  lambent  and  wild 
On  whims  of  fate  and  the  horrid 

fact  of  death. 
He  is  both  stringy  and  solid,  a 

scant  year  older, 
With  hands  like  David's,  enormous 

as  outsized  mittens, 
Inclined  to  coitlike  jerkings  from 

ankle  to  shoulder. 
With  a  gaze  as  mournful  and 

innocent  as  a  kitten's. 

Singly,  they  strike  us  as  clowns, 

as  a  marvelous  joke. 
Together,  they  move  us  with 

something  akin  to  awe  .  .  . 
Recalling  how  once  in  ourselves 

the  mystery  spoke, 
And  how  a  preposterous  face 

revealed  no  flaw. 
And  how,  thereafter,  no  other 

possessed  such  a  face, 
Or  uttered  such  music,  or  moved 

with  such  absolute  grace. 


fail  to  keep  up  with  medical  developments; 
he  may  "forget  everything  he  has  learned 
and  acquire  nothing  to  replace  it."  "That 
situation  is  wrong,"  Doctor  Hundley  said, 
proposing  as  a  remedy  that  doctors  should  be 
required  to  lake  periodic  re-examinations  to 
establish  their  competence  and  determine  their 
ability  to  practice  medicine  properly.  "Few,  if 
any,  conscientious  doctors  would  seriously 
object "  to  such  a  procedure,  he  said. 

5.  Finally  calling  attention- to  the  AMA's 
"Principles  of  Medical  Ethics,"  which  states 
that  "a  physician  should  expose,  without 
fear  or  favor,  incompetent  or  corrupt,  dis- 
honest or  unethical  conduct  on  the  part  of 
members  of  the  profession,"  he  declared: 

"Until  the  right-thinking,  honest,  fair- 
minded  members  of  the  profession  are  willing 
to  subscribe  wholeheartedly  to  that  standard, 
we  will  never  rid  our  profession  of  those  un- 
worthy representatives  we  are  encouraging 
by  our  acquiescent  silence.  .  .  . 

"  It  takes  courage  to  discipline  or  to  expel 
an  incompetent  or  dishonest  member  of  our 
profession,  but  the  public  has  a  right  to  ex- 
pect that  sort  of  courage.  .  .  . 

"As  we  clean  our  own  house^  as  we  correct 
our  faults,  we  will  regain,  and  we  will  de- 
serve, the  confidence,  the  respect  and  the 
loyalty  that  has  been  considerably  lost  in 
recent  decades." 


I  found  Doctor  Hundley  as  for 
his  statements.  He  said  frankly  it  i 
time  to  put  over  his  idea  for  perk 
amination  of  physicians  and  that  i 
be  accomplished  by  "driving."  "\ 
to  plant  the  seed  and  let  it  grow 
clared. 

"But  there  are  only  a  small  numl 
doctors  involved  in  this  problem,', 
Hundley  went  on.  "They  could  be| 
and  they  would  be  handled,  if  it  wd 
the  large  number  of  men— careful 
scientious  in  their  own  practice—', 
an  exaggerated  belief  that  the  'righ 
individual,  even  when  he  is  wrong,  si 
be  interfered  with.  I  disagree  with 
feel  that  it  is  our  responsibility  to 
thing.  We  don't  need  drastic  action, 
need  is  publicity.  If  we  can  turn  th 
publicity  on  this  problem  of  mal 
we  can  get  somewhere.  I  don't  wor 
honest  publicity,  for,  if  you  are  no 
publicity  is  not  going  to  hurt  you." 

Doctor  Hundley's  suggestion  thai 
lentless  light  of  publicity  may  be  th( 
points  the  way  to  one  specific  corre 
tion.  Malpractice  hearings  are  condi 
hind  closed  doors,  both  by  medical 
when  they  examine  a  doctor's  fitnei 
member  of  his  professional  group,  ai 
state  licensing  boards  when  they  coi 
voking  a  practitioner's  license.  In 
public  announcements  are  made  oiu 
rare  cases  where  licenses  are  revokU., 
public,  through  the  press,  learns  of  n  pini 
tice  hearings  only  if  the  accused  doc -A 
ries  the  case  to  court.  y 
After  a  preliminary  screening  of  tl  facl  i 
sufficient  to  determine  justification  J,  nil  ■ 
practice  charges  against  a  doctor,  v"/  a 
open  malpractice  hearings  to  the  pr  i  a 
other  parties  with  legitimate  interest;  itli 
way,  even  when  red  tape  saves  a  n<  iga 
doctor  from  expulsion,  the  public  ; 
would  have  some  facts  on  which  to  j 
competence.  As  Doctor  Hundley  s 
you  are  not  guilty,  publicity  is  not  g,™ 
hurt  you."  Truth  often  sets  rumor  Ire! 
and  a  doctor  wrongly  accused  miglievi 
benefit  from  a  public  airing  of  the  cha  ,es. 

Still  another  remedy  is  proposed  \  D  ( 
Louis  A.  Buie,  of  Rochester,  Min'sot 
chairman  of  the  American  Medical  /loci 
tion 's  Council  on  Constitution  and  B>  law 
He  would  take  the  matter  of  disciplinii  !nia 
practitioners  out  of  the  hands  of  loa  an 
mittees,  and  also  would  vest  greatenlisc 
plinary  power  within  the  AMA's  "si  -enl 
court  "-the  Judicial  Council.  He  um 
"Because  a  great  many  factors  diffiilt! 
appraise  may  be  involved  in  a  givei|;as( 
physicians  are  loath  to  condemn  a  coli  gul 
despite  the  fact  that  his  guilt  may  seti  af  , 
parent.  ( 

"Probably  such  problems  might  be  Ive  , 
if  they  were  handled  by  individuals  r!  a(  ' 
quainted  with  the  offender.  Facts  mil  1  ' 
ascertained  and  presented  before  staJ  d  i 
perhaps,  regional  committees,  which  .oul 
act  as  trial  courts.  ' 

"This  would  assure  fair,  impersonfail  ' 
impartial  consideration  of  problems  lid 
often  are  of  such  magnitude  as  to  pla^  th  , 
professional  life  of  an  individual  in  jeojl'dj  ' 
Through  the  medium  of  appeal,  plaintif  anl 
defendants  still  could  consult  the  so-  llei 
'supreme  court'  of  the  AM  A— the  Ju  6i 
Council." 

After  all  the  facts  are  weighed,  it  mi .  b  I 
concluded  that,  while  the  doctors  arSH  i 
blind  or  wholly  inert  to  the  malpractice  M  ^ 
lem,  a  great  deal  of  the  criticism  aimed  at  icii 
profession  is  justified,  and  not  nearly  eiiigt 
is  being  done  to  correct  the  situationWe 
sponsible  leaders  admit  that  the  "(Jd" 
complex— the  "  I-can-do-no-wrong  "  ol«s-j| 
sion— weighs  too  heavily  on  some  of  eir 
colleagues.  This,  coupled  with  the  ugl^ile- 
ment  of  greed— a  disease  which  affects Vo 
fessions  other  than  medicine— leads  to  rlny 
of  the  callous,  inhumane  act?  which  m 
brought  about  the  bitter  schism  betjien 
some  doctors  and  their  patients.  The  ast 
majority  of  doctors  repudiate  and  de  )re 
these  acts.  The  remedy,  as  suggested  ejiier 
in  this  article,  would  seem  to  lie  in  the  S  ip 
tural admonition:  "Physician,  heal  thysi 

THE  «D 


'"Ml         I     <>     I      II     N     \  I. 


any  cleansing  tissue  without  wet-sln  n-itli  under  a  moderately 
ming  faucet.  Water  makes  a  hole  instantly,  tissue  "dissolves." 


Hold  a  New  Scut  lie  umlcr  llic  lain  i  t.  >(  c  how  it  acliiallv  iioiil^  water 
.   without  tearing. 


EW  SCOTTIES 


II 


GIVES  YOU  A  STRONGER  HANDKERCHIEF 


_  A  BETTER  CREAM  REMOVER 

. . .     oojp/o 't^mv  mA: 


♦ 


/ 


M  ow  in  Scotties  —  si'/Ay  soflness  ivith 
treiiglh  that  absorbs  ivelness  icilhotil  cnim- 
ding.  New  Scotties  don't  disintegrate 
inder  a  shattering  sneeze.  They  wipe 
iway  cream  and  lipstick  without  going 
o  pieces  .  .  .  with  no  bothersome  lint. 

Softer  than  ever — New  Scotties  are 
:ind  to  tender,  cold-sensitive  skin. 


gently  safe  even  for  baby's  little  nose. 

Get  New  Scotties  next  time  you 
shop.  You'll  be  gratefid  for  their  caress- 
ine  softness,  their  wonderful  new  'Svet- 
strength."  And  when  you  compare  their 
value  with  all  other  tissues  you'll  see 
why  so  many  families  choose  Scotties. 
Another  great  Scott  paper  value. 


REG.    U.S.  PAT. 


FAMILY  BOX 
OR  HANDY  VANITY  SIZE 


J 


I 


LAI)     I     K  S 


II     O     M  K 


,1     ()     U     K     rN    A  L 


r,'.i> 


4"' 


FOLLOW  THESE  SIMPLE  RULES! 

1.  Print  or  write  plainly  your  last  "line**  for 
the  Chix  Nursery  Rhyme.  Make  your  last  line 
rhyme  with  "sight."  Your  last  line  must  be 
written  on  the  entry  blank  obtainable  at  your 
favorite  infant's  department. 

2.  Mail  to  Chix  Nursery  Rhyme  Contest,  P.  O. 
Box  193,  New  York  46.  N.  Y.  Submit  as 
many  entries  as  you  \vi>h.  All  entries  must  be 
submitted  on  the  official  entry  blank.  Entries 
must  be  the  original  work  of  contestants  sub- 
mitting them. 

9.  Winner  of  the  1st  Prize  will  be  given  a 
Bonus  Prize  of  a  S270  fur  scarf  if  "Wrinkle- 
Free"  Band  from  a  box  of  Chix  Diapers  is 
submitted  with  the  entry. 

4.  Any  resident  of  the  United  States  may  com 
pete  except  employees  of  Chicopee  Mills,  Inc. 
its  affiliate  and  subsidiary  companies,  its  ad 
vertising  agencies  and  their  families.  Contes 
subject  to  all  federal,  state  and  local  regula 
tions. 

5.  All  entries  must  be  postmarked  not  later 
than  midnight,  April  30,  1953  and  received  not 
later  than  May  5.  1953. 

6.  Entries  will  be  judged  by  The  Reuben  H. 
Donnelley  Corporation  on  the  basis  of  origi- 
oality,  sincerity  and  aptness  of  thought. 
Judges*  decisions  final.  Duplicate  prizes  will 
be  awarded  in  case  of  ties.  Only  one  prize  to 
a  family.  No  entries  returned.  All  become  the 
property  of  Chicopee  Mills,  Inc. 

7.  Prize  schedule  as  appears  elsewhere  on 
this  page. 

8.  Winners  notified  by  mail.  Complete  list  of 
winners  sent  to  anyone  sending  a  stamped, 
self-addressed  envelope. 


1%  diddle,  diddle, 

iliS  eas)^  to  enter  / 

Simply  write  last  line  of  the  Chix  Nursery 
Rhyme.  Send  it  in  on  OFFICIAL  ENTRY 
BLANK  which  you  will  find  in  the  infants' 
department  at  stores  where  diapers  are  sold. 

Young  Mother  Hubbard,  went  to  the  cupboard 

And  she  saw  such  a  beautiful  sight; 
CHIX  Diapers  were  there,  for  baby  to  wear. 


f  Write  last  line — should  rhyme  with  "sight.  " 
Example:  And  their  smoothness  was  quite  a  delight.) 


620  valuable  prizes! 

1st  Prize— $2500  in  cash. 

BONUS  PRIZE -$270  3-skin  Stone 
Marten  Fur  scarf  created  by  Schreiber 
&  Memmo,  Inc.,  Furriers,  given  if 
"Wrinkle-Free"  Band  from  box  of 
CHIX  Diapers  accompanies  1st  prize- 
winning  entry. 

Three  2nd  Priies— Westinghouse  Laundry 
"Twins"  (Washer  and  Dryer). 

Five  3rd  Prizes— Westinghouse  Laundromat.® 

Five  4th  Prires— Westinghouse  Clothes  Dryer. 

Five  5th  Prires— Complete  Layette  worth  $50  at 
winner's  favorite  store,  (or  cash). 

Next  100  Prizes- Each:  4  dozen  CHIX  Gauze 
Diapers. 

Next  150  Prizes-Each:  12   boxes  CHIX 

Diaper  Liners. 
Next  150  Prizes  -  Each  :  4  CHIX  Percale  Fitted 

Crib  Sheets. 
Next  200  Prizes-Box  of  CHUX  Disposable 

Diapers. 


Helpful  Tips  About  New  Chix  Diapers 


THIS  IS  THE  ORIGINAL  "SEIF-SMOOTHING"  DIAPER  '!  New 

Chix  Diapers  now  come  out  of  the  washing  machine,  and 
dry  wrinkle-jree  within  minutes!  Chix  exclusive  new 
■  weave  has  the  smoothness  woven-in  to  stay! 

SOFTER,  MORE  ABSORBENT!  New  Chix  Diapers  absorb 
moisture  quickly,  help  keep  baby's  bed  and  garments 
comfy  dry.  Chix  "cushion-weave"  cradles  baby  in  thou- 
sands of  tiny  "cushions"! 

WASH  FASTER,  DRY  FASTER!  Wash  Chix  Diapers  by 
machine  or  by  hand  and  soil  just  floats  away!  Chix  dry 
in  a  jiffy  and  always  WRINKLE-FREE! 

♦Patent  applied  for.  ^ 

Chix  Baby  Products 

Chux®  Disposable  Diapers,  Chix  5  Diaper  Liners,  Chix'5>  Crib  Sheets 
at  Department  Stores  and  Baby  Shops  everywhere 


Rock-a-bve,  baby,  on  fhe  tree  fop. 
When  the  wind  blows,  the  cradle  wilt  rock; 
When  the  bough  breaks,  the  crodle  will  fall; 
Down  will  come  boby,  crodle  and  oil. 


DIARY  OF 
DOMESTICITY 

(Continued  fro>n  Page  34) 

of  crisp  lettuce  and  raw  tomato  with  the  rest 
is  elegant.  People  in  California  and  Texas  and 
the  whole  Southwest  can  get  the  tortillas 
freshly  made— but  we  manage  very  well. 

To  serve  with  the  tacos,  I  add  more  tacos. 
Coffee,  and  fresh  cool  fruit  for  dessert. 

The  taco  filling  can  be  infinitely  varied; 
maybe  it  isn't  classic,  but  cubed  cheese  in- 
stead of  the  onions  is  fine.  Beef  may  be  used, 
or  turkey. 

Esme  has  a  pal  whom  she  has  never  seen, 
since  he  lives  in  the  state  of  Washington.  But 
he  is  surely  blood  kin  to  her.  Lois,  his  mis- 
tress, had  to  take  him  to  the  doctor.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  been  in  a  car  and  she 
reports  that  he  put  both  arms  around  her 
neck  and  stared  in  horror  at  trees  and  houses 
that  did  not  stay  put.  Then  a  bridge  went  by 
and  that  was  too  much.  He  buried  his  head 
in  her  neck  and  wailed  for  three  miles.  When 
Lois  went  to  pick  him  up  at  the  hospital 
she  says  they  were  very  glad  to  see  her. 
Smitty  was  complaining  in  a  two-octave 
range.  They  got  home  and  Smitty  fell  into 
the  piano — lid  up,  mistake!  It  reminded  me 
of  taking  trips  when  Esme  was  a  kitten  and 
having  all  the  passing  cars  slow  down,  heads 
crane  from  every  window.  Her  trumpeting 
carried  as  far  as  a  carillon. 

There  was  also  the  time  we  mistakenly 
took  Tigger,  the  Manx,  to  the  Bureau  of 
Motor  Vehicles  while  getting  a  license.  Tig- 
ger made  so  much  noise  I  felt  sure  I  would  be 
arrested  before  I  ever  got  in  the  bureau.  He 
sounded  like  a  pack  of  hyenas  closing  in  for 
the  kill. 

There  are  many  cats  that  learn  to  enjoy 
riding,  but  I  have  never  been  intimate  with 
one.  Whereas  with  the  dogs,  you  can  never 
sneak  out  even  in  the  direction  of  the  car 
without  the  whole  gang  standing  by  the  gate 
ready  to  start  the  motor  and  drive  any- 
where—anywhere at  all.  Our  friend  Marga- 
ret Cuthbert  opines  it  is  because  they  get 
more  scents  faster  and  easier. 

li%^EN  Margaret  and  Alice  Blinn  come 
over  for  dinner,  we  often  bring  up  a  steak 
from  the  freezer.  Margaret  cooks  the  steak 
in  the  fireplace  on  a  long-handled  toaster. 
Then  she  does  a  trick  for  the  seasoning  that 
is  the  best  I  ever  tasted.  She  puts  a  chunk 
of  butter  or  margarine  on  a  warm  platter, 
crushes  a  clove  of  garlic  over,  adds  a  big  dol- 
lop of  chili  sauce,  a  dash  of  mustard,  a  whifY 
of  steak  sauce.  Salt  and  pepper.  Then  she 
heats  to  boiling  a  half  cup  of  water  and  pours 
it  over.  The  crusty  tender  steak  is  popped 
on  this  and  slithered  on  both  sides,  then  the 
platter  goes  in  a  warming  oven  for  a  few 
minutes  to  absorb  the  juices— and  it  is  hard 
enough  to  wait  those  few  minutes.  Mean- 
while Alice  has  done  lemon-and-butter  sauce 
for  the  chopped  spinach.  Jill  makes  the  cof- 
fee and  I  fix  a  green  salad.  Seasoned  with 
good  talk,  and  aided  by  Danny,  their  grave 
and  gentlemanly  dachshund,  plus  our  un- 
gentlemanly  Teddy  and  a  few  others,  we 
have  a  dinner  not  to  be  beaten. 

When  I  make  French  dressing,  I  have  an 
economy  trick  I  like.  I  take  a  bottle  that  has 
no  more  catchup  in  it,  really,  or  not  enough 
mustard  to  bother  with.Imixmy  salad  oil  and 
vinegar  and  slosh  it  into  the  bottle,  add  my 
seasonings,  and  the  dressing  is  licking  good. 
Never  the  same,  for  maybe  it  is  herb  mus- 
tard, maybe  Dijon,  maybe  chili  sauce,  maybe 
mustard  dressing.  Or  maybe  mayonnaise. 
This  makes  a  smoother  dressing.  And  not  a 
drop  of  waste ! 

Incidentally,  Margaret's  way  with  steak  is 
elegant  for  hamburgers  too.  I  add  chopped 
onion  for  that. 

After  a  day  of  waxing  and  painting  and 
cleaning  closets,  it  is  good  to  sit  by  the  fire 
and  read.  Night  comes  sudden  and  soon,  the 
rain  drums  on  the  roof.  The  rain  is  giving  a 
lease  on  life  to  the  land,  brimming  the  hol- 
lows, soaking  the  thawed  earth. 

Sister  yawns  herself  to  bed.  Boring,  says 
she.  But  I  think  that  plowing  time  will  be 
here  any  day  now,  the  most  exciting  time  of 
the  country  year!  the  end 


Vision  is  one  of  Nature's  most  precious  gifts.  You  can  prevent  seri- 
ous damage  to  your  child's  eyes  by  treating  minor  injuries  promptly. 


What  to  ##»  tor  Accidents  ami  infevtuntM 
Uy  l»R.  IIERI^IAM  IV.  III1IV»ESKIV 

I'rcsiilcnl,  (Jiicago  Hoanl  iif  lli-allli 


>T  long  ago,  an  eight-year-old  boy 
Aras  brought  to  me  with  a  swollen, 
inflamed  eye.  "He  complained  sev- 
lays  ago  of  having  something  in  it," 
nother  told  me  apologetically.  "I 
;ht  it  was  just  a  little  dust  or  cinder 
old  him  to  let  it  alone.  He  would  rub 
ough,  and  it  kept  getting  worse  in- 
of  better." 

the  time  I  saw  the  boy,  the  eye  had 
from  worse  to  bad  indeed.  The  par- 
n  his  eye,  whatever  it  had  been,  had 
its  way.  But  a  flourishing  infection 
een  set  up  by  the  rubbing  the  boy  had 
Fortunately  this  incident  ended  hap- 
With  hot  applications  and  an  anti- 
:,  the  infection  was  conquered.  But  I 
seen  many  eye  infections  caused  in 
;ely  the  same  way  that  were  not  dealt 
>o  successfully. 

ardly  need  to  point  out  that  a  young- 
eyes  are  very  precious.  They  are  also 
delicate.  Because  of  their  exposed 
on,  they  are  particularly  susceptible 
ury  and  to  various  types  of  infection, 
led  in  the  right  way,  the  great  ma- 
of  these  will  do  no  harm.  But  failure 
)ply  the  proper  measures  promptly 
■esult  in  permanent  injury.  And  since 
('e  is  so  close  to  the  brain,  a  neglected 
ion  could  conceivably  be  fatal.  I  be- 
every  mother  should  know  what 
ares  to  take  in  order  to  protect  her 
aster's  eyes. 

St,  let  us  talk  about  the  simplest  and 
lonest  form  of  eye  emergency — "some- 
in  the  eye."  Undoubtedly  your 
?ster  is  going  to  come  to  y6\x  promptly 
lief  when  this  happens.  The  first  rule 
rubbing.  It  is  rubbing,  rather  than  the 
Ti  particle  itself,  that  is  most  likely  to 
about  serious  injury  by  pushing  the 
t  farther  up  under  the  eyelid,  scraping 
iinst  the  eye  itself  and  irritating  the 
ive  tissues. 

e  thing  to  do  first  of  all  is  to  wrap  a 
of  sterile  cotton  around  the  end  of  a 
pick  or  orange  stick.  Next  roll  the 


child's  eyelid  back  gently  until  you  have 
located  the  particle.  (You  may  find  it 
easier  to  roll  the  eyelid  back  over  some- 
thing like  a  toothpick.)  Remove  the  par- 
ticle by  touching  it  lightly  with  the  cotton- 
tipped  stick. 

Perhaps  you  will  be  unable  to  locate 
the  particle,  or  to  remove  it  when  located. 
In  that  case,  have  the  child  lie  down 
quietly  for  a  while  with  both  eyes  closed. 
Sometimes  normal  action  of  the  fluids 
in  the  eye  will  flush  out  particles  that 
are  not  firmly  lodged.  But  if  the  scratch- 
ing and  burning  sensations  persist,  take 
the  child  to  a  doctor  at  once— don't  wait 
several  days  as  the  mother  I  mentioned 
previously  did.  The  doctor  will  have  the 
skill  and  equipment  needed  to  remove 
the  most  elusive  object,  and  thus  prevent 
the  possibility  of  damage  to  the  eyeball  or 
of  infection. 

I  need  not  tell  you  to  waste  no  time  in 
getting  your  child  to  a  doctor  in  the  case  of 
an  injury  that  cuts  the  eyeball.  He  will 
carry  on  from  there.  But  it  is  equally  nec- 
essary to  do  this  if  the  child  should  be 
struck  a  blow  with  a  blunt  instrument  in 
or  near  the  eye,  which  can  happen  very 
easily  in  play.  Every  wound  in  this  area 
involves  a  possible  hazard  to  vision.  Prompt 
and  proper  treatment  may  mean  the 
difference  between  recovery  and  last-  . 
ing  injury.  In  every  such  case,  let  the 
doctor  be  the  one  to  decide  what  should 
be  done. 

Another  type  of  accident  calling  for  im- 
mediate medical  attention  is  when  a  caustic 
liquid,  such  as  ammonia  or  lye,  is  splashed 
into  the  eye.  In  fact,  some  of  the  most  pain- 
ful and  dangerous  eye  injuries  I  have  ever 
seen  have  been  caused  in  this  way.  Don't 
waste  a  minute  if  this  should  occur.  Rush 
the  child  to  the  doctor  or  to  a  hospital  as 
fast  as  a  car  can  get  you  there.  However, 
if  expert  help  is  more  than  a  few  minutes' 
trip  away,  call  up  and  find  out  if  there  are 
first-aid  measures  that  should  be  taken 
before  you  start.  For  instance,  bathing  the 


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eye  with  warm  water  may  wash  out  or  dilute 
some  poisons  and  relieve  pain.  Or,  depending 
upon  what  the  caustic  is,  the  doctor's  offke 
or  hospital  may  suggest  the  use  of  a  solution 
to  wash  out  the  eye.  Prompt  use  of  the  right 
antidote  may  prevent  serious  damage.  Your 
medicine  cabinet  should  contain  an  eyecup 
for  more  efficient  batliing  of  an  eye  where 
this  is  called  for.  The  most  important  thing, 
however— and  this  goes  for  anything  in- 
volving your  youngster's  eyes— is  to  get 
medical  advice  immediately. 

Another  threat  to  young  eyes  is  infection 
caused  by  bacteria  or  viruses.  The  common- 
est of  these  is  conjunctivitis,  or  "pinkeye." 
This  is  an  inflammation  of  the  membrane 
lining  the  eyelids  and  eyeball.  It  starts  with 
itching  and  smarting  in  one  eye,  or  more 
frequently  in  both  eyes.  As  the  infection 
develops,  the  eyes  discharge  a  sticky,  yellow- 
ish fluid.  The  child  may  waken  in  the  morn- 
ing with  his  eyes  literally  "glued  together." 
He  may  also  complain  tJiat  light  hurts  his 
eye«.  In  severe  cases,  tiny  ulcers  or  sores 
may  be  seen  on  the  eyelids. 

Some  kinds  of  pinkeye  are  contagious  and 
may  be  caused  by  any  one  of  several  differ- 
ent kinds  of  bacteria  or  virus.  For  instance, 
the  vims  that  causes  the  common  cold  may 
invade  and  inflame  the  area  of  the  eyes.  This 
is  especially  true  when  care  has  not  been 
taken  to  have  the  child  use  dean  handker- 

000O0O0O00O00 

It  is  better  to  understand  a  little 
than  to  misunderstand  a  lot. 

— ANATOLE  FRANCE 

.  3000O0OOO0O 


chiefs  or  tissues.  Other  forms  of  conjunc- 
tivitis are  caused  by  the  same  germs  that  are 
responsible  for  pneumonia  and  influenza.  Or 
by  streptococcus  and  staphylococcus  bac- 
teria. 

Usjually  these  contagious  types  last  only  a 
few  days  and  are  not  serious  or  extremely 
painful.  Nevertheless,  the  doctor  sliould  be 
notified.  Keep  the  youngster  quiet  and  away 
from  other  children  in  the  family.  The  doctor 
niay  prescribe  a  drug  to  be  applied  to  the 
child's  eyes  to  relieve  the  itching  and  burn- 
ing. Or  he  may  suggest  hot  compresses  or 
fomentations.  These  should  be  applied  with 
clean  cloths,  using  water  that  has  been 
boiled,  and  in  which  boric-acid  crystals  have 
been  dissolved.  (The  usual  proportion  is  three 
level  teaspoons  of  crystals  to  a  pint  of 
water.)  In  persistent  or  severe  cases,  the 
doctor  may  give  penicillin  injections. 

And  then  there  are  cases  in  which  con- 
junctivitis is  caused  by  an  allergy,  rather 
than  by  germs  or  a  virus.  I  have  often  foimd, 
for  example,  that  children  who  have  hay 
fever  may  suffer  from  a  mild  form  of  pinkeye 
while  they  are  having  their  episodes  of  head 
stuffiness,  sneezing  and  coughing.  We  can 
relieve  the  itching  and  burning  in  such  cases 
with  eye  drops  or  v/ith  a  salve  containing 
one  of  the  antihistamine  drugs.  (Naturally 
you  never  should  use  anything  in  your  child 's 
eyes  unless  it  is  prescribed  by  your  doctor.) 
However,  the  only  really  successful  way  to 
treat  allergic  conjimctivitis  is  the  way  we 
treat  any  allergy— by  finding  out  what  is 
causing  the  reaction  and  then  banning  it 
from  the  child's  envirormient  if  possible. 
WTiere  this  can't  be  done,  the  doctor  may 
give  a  series  of  injections  to  reduce  sensitivity 
to  the  allergen  and  to  relieve  the  child's 
symptoms. 

Another  common  eye  ailment  of  young- 
sters is  sty.  One  of  the  numerous  small  glands 
in  the  eyelid  becomes  filled  with  pus,  pro- 
ducing an  angry  red  swelling  on  the  lid.  The 
entire  eye  may  perhaps  be  bloodshot.  The 
chief  danger  of  sty  is  that  careless  or  im- 
proper treatment  may  permit  the  infection 
to  spread.  As  in  other  forms  of  eye  distress, 
don't  let  your  youngster  rub  the  affected 
eye.  With  a  young  child,  it  may  be  neces- 
sary to  put  a  light  bandage  over  the  eye 
to  discourage  this.  In  most  cases  tlie  sty, 
like  an  ordinary  pimple,  comes  to  a  head 
within  a  few  davs  and  then  starts  to  drain. 


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mWEST  EDITION oiBTitaxmica. 
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The  procfss  may  Ik-  sixtdifl  by  hoi  ojiii- 
prcsst's.  Hill  never  at  Irinpi  ios<nicczf  tin-  pus 
oiil  of  the  sty. 

Soimiimes  sties  pt-rsist.  I  have  sfcn  cliil- 
(lii  M  who  Mulfcrcd  from  thi-ni  reiH-aU-diy  for 
nioMlhs  on  iiul,  no  mailer  how  tarelul  the 
mother  was  lo  prevent  the  spread  of  infec- 
tion. Thistisiially  means  thai  I  lie  yoimnsler's 
resistance  is  low  and  thai  his  neruTal  health 
needs  building  iij).  Kepealed  sties  call  lor  a 
tlioroiiv'h  medical  examination. 

\\  lien  infection  appears  in  the  inner  corner 
of  the  eye  and  sweiliiiu  is  severe,  it  may  be 
that  the  tear  duct  is  involved.  Treatment  in 
(his  case  is  the  same  as  for  sty  hot  com- 
presses to  stimulate  drainage.  If  the  swelling 
does  not  subside  in  a  fi:\v  tUiys,  the  doctor 
should  see  the  youngster.  It  may  he  neces- 
sary lor  him  to  open  the  tear  duct  surgically, 
so  that  the  jkis  can  drain  out.  Unless  it  is 
cleared  up,  there  is  always  dan^;e^  that  in- 
fection may  spread  lo  the  eye  itself,  or  even 
to  the  interior  of  tlie  eyeball.  Damage  here 
may  impair  visitjii. 

Considering  ail  the  things  tiial  can  happen 
lo  younu  eyes,  it  is  reassuring  thai  most  of  us 
come  IhrouKh  the  perils  of  childhood  with 
undamaged  ones.  Nevertheless,  don't  take 
chances  with  your  youngster's  vision. 
Whether  it's  a  seeminnly  trivial  accident  or 
a  common  infection,  let  llie  docloT  know  at 
once.  Then  do  what  he  says ! 


Tiiii:  oiji  itiiii.li: 
A. Ml  TiiK  .\k:\v 

((.  'oniinufd  from  l^asr  I  I) 

In  the  King  James  version  wc  see  and  hear 
the  panting  Itart  the  stag.  An  image  comes 
immediately  to  mind.  He  is  running,  search- 
ing for  water,  until  he  is  out  of  breath,  his 
bix>ath  heaves  in  gasi)s,  his  tongue  protrudes. 
His  thirst  is  desperate  and  urgent  and  the 
simile  of  thiisl  is  vivid:  My  need  of  God 
is  like  the  thirst  of  the  stag,  who,  if  he  does 
not  find  tJie  brcxik  of  water,  w  ill  surely  die. 

In  the  new  version  this  sense  of  action  and 
urgency  is  gone.  The  hart  merely  "longs" 
for  water  with  no  visible  etfecls  of  the  lack  of 
it.  And  no  i^icture  of  a  "longing"  stag  can 
be  invoked.  Longing  is  in  the  mind,  not  the 
flesh,  and  how  do  1  know  that  a  stag  has  a 
mind  to  long?  Is  he  just  sitting  in  the  under- 
brush vagT-iely  hoping?  \\  hat  sifin  is  there  of 
his  thirst,  to  which  the  thirst  of  the  human 
soul  after  God  can  Ix;  compared? 

Read  both  passages  aloud  for  the  beat  and 
fall  of  the  words.  The  King  James  version  of 
the  three  lines  falls  in  beats:  11-10-11  to  a 
line.  The  cadence  is  poetry.  That  of  the  new 
version  is  prosaic. 

For  the  authenticity  of  the  one  or  the 
other  as  a  translation  1  camiot  vouch,  be- 
cause I  know  no  Hebrew.  But  it  must,  I 
think,  have  conveyed  some  idea  of  urgency 
physically  expressed  because  tJie  Luther 
Bible  translated  from  the  original  Hebrew 
also  conveys  this.  In  the  German  text  the 
animal  schreit  after  the  water  streams--i.e., 
howls,  slirieks,  gives  voice  to  loud  cries,  as, 
in  the  next  line,  does  the  soul  after  God. 
Lutlier  used  this  very  strong  verb  to  convey 
the  painfid  cry  of  urgency.  Does  this  seem 
quibbling?  I  think  not.  1  think  it  goes  to  the 
very  root  of  effective  writing. 

The  new  version  is  altogether  less  robust. 
In  Job  15  the  King  James  version  makes 
Eliphaz  say,  "Should  a  wise  man  utter  vain 
knowledge,  and  fill  his  belly  with  the  east 
wind?"  The  new  version  says,  "Should  a 
wise  man  answer  with  w  indy  knowledge  and 
fill  himself  with  the  east  wind?" 

What  is  this  a  concession  to?  Some  prissi- 
ness?  The  Bible,  especially  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, is  not  at  all  squeamish  about  the 
human  body  and  prefers  the  specific  and  pre- 
cise to  the  general.  "Vain  knowledge"  is 
futile  knowledge:  "windy  knowledge"  is  no 
knowledge  at  all.  It  is  wind  in  the  belly  and 
not  anywhere  else  that  causes  discomfort  and 
embarrassment.  And  the  belly  (Baucli)  is  in 
Luther's  Bible  too. 

I  cannot  understand  at  all  certain  changes. 
In  the  familiar  Isaian  prophecy  (Chapter 
531  are  the  words: 


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"But  he  was  wounded  for  our  transgres- 
sions, he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities:  the 
chastisement  of  our  peace  was  upon  him; 
and  with  his  stripes  we  are  healed." 

This  passage,  of  incomparable  poetic 
flow,  is  marred  to  my  ears  by  the  change  of 
the  phrase  "the  chastisement  of  our  peace" 
to  the  cumbersome  "upon  us  was  the  chas- 
tisement that  made  us  whole."  1  confess  I  do 
not  know  what  that  means,  except  the 
chastisement  that  healed  us,  which  is  a 
repetition,  then,  of  the  next  line,  "and  with 
his  stripes  we  are  healed."  There  is  no  men- 
tion of  our  peace,  as  in  the  original— there 
is  in  the  Luther  Bible. 

Throughout  the  new  text  I  look  for  words 
graven  in  my  memory  and  do  not  find  them. 
The  "whited  sepulcher"  that  every  literate 
person  knows  as  a  symbol  of  gilded  corrup- 
tion is,  in  the  new  version,  a  "whitewashed 
tomb."  This  does  not  modernize  the  phrase, 
for  a  whitewashed  tomb  is  no  nearer  to  our 
present  experience  than  the  other  phrase. 
And  what  more  manly  and  robust  expression 
of  unshakable  faith  than  Job's  words  (Chap- 
ter 13)  "Though  he  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust 
in  him"?  How  many  people  in  the  342  years 
since  the  great  English  Bible  appeared  have 
spoken  those  words  silently  to  themselves 
through  rebellious  tears?  But  you  will  not 
find  them  in  the  new  Bible,  which  reads, 
"Behold,  he  will  slay  me;  I  have  no  hope." 

Nor  can  1  understand  other  changes  from 
the  viewpoint  of  improved  simplicity  and 
clarity.  The  King  James  version  of  the  27th 
Psalm  reads: 

"  The  Lord  is  my  light  and  my  salvation ; 
Witom  shall  I  fear? 
The  Lord  is  the  strength  of  my  life; 
Of  whom  shall  I  be  afraid?" 

The  new  version  changes  "strength"  to 
"stronghold,"  marring  the  cadence,  and  to 
what  purpose?  We  speak  of  the  strength  of 
the  arm,  of  the  heart,  of  the  life.  Why  encom- 


pass pulsing  life  in  a  fortress?  Surely 
the  sake  of  a  more  simple  expressioni 
in  the  same  psalm,  "When  the  wii 
mine  enemies  and  my  foes, 
me  . . .  they  stumbled  and  fell"  is 
"  When  evildoers  assail  me,  utterii 
against  me,  my  adversaries  and 
they  shall  stumble  and  fall." 

Why  "evildoers,"  an  awkward  \j 
the  context  and  not  so  forthright  as  "w 
Why  the  change  of  tense? 

Again,  in  the  famous  passage  in 
7  about  the  mote  in  one's  brother's 
the  beam  in  one's  own,  "mote" 
"speck"  and  "beam"  "log."  Neith^ 
nor  beam  is  an  obsolete  word ;  the  Ion] 
in  each  is  pleasant  to  the  ear  and  theil 
"the  mote  and  the  beam"  has  becont| 
of  the  vocabulary  of  well-read  persoi 

So  has  the  expression  "many  m; 
"In  my  Father's  house  are  many 
Granted  that  the  word  "house" 
circumscribed  in  current  usage  tharf 
at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth  a 
when  it  could  be  synonymous  with  "i 
hold,"  the  new  version,  which  n 
my  father's  house  are  many  rooms" 
the  stately  and  palatial  concept  ofi 
version.  My  "Father's  house"  is  tl 
of  a  King,  not  a  boardinghouse 
cubicles  of  a  Y.M.C.A.  The  word 
may  include  more  than  four  walls  ani 
We  use  it  to  describe  a  great  estate, 
a  whole  country.  "In  my  Father's  /ar 
many  mansions"  would  remove  thei} 
ent  contradiction  in  the  old  text, 
keeping  the  picture,  the  familiar  phrai 
the  identical  rhythm. 

The  mere  presence  or  elision  of  a  0 
can  be  disturbing  to  one  who  kno\ 
Bible.  Few  passages  from  the  King  ,- 
version  are  better  known  than  the  vis 
Isaiah  in  Chapter  9,  the  passage  begii 
"The  people  that  walked  in  darkness ;i 
seen  a  great  light,"  interpreted  as  a  pro; 
of  the  coming  of  the  Messiah,  whose  " 


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>< 


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WATCHING 


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MOTHER: 

low  will  you  tell 
irour  daughter? 

u  have  a  daughter  nearing  her 
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shall  l)c  called  WoiKicrlul,  Couiis<'llor,  'l  lie 
mighty  (loti,  Tlic  cvcrlastiiii'.  l-'alhcr,  'llic 
i'rince  of  I'eacc." 

The  new  version  omits  llic  coinina  alli  r 
"  Woiulcrlul,"  s(j  that  the  |)assaKe  reads 
"  WoiKicrlul  Counsellor."  This  is  a  trivial  us<- 
of  the  word  "  woiul<-rlul  "  with  its  content  of 
marvel,  supernatural,  iiuxpluahle.  Surely 
the  Kiiin  James  translators,  like  Luther,  sel 
Ihe  word  apart  for  a  reason.  His  name  shall 
be  called  "the  Wonderful."  As  an  adjective 
modifyiuK  "Counsellor"  it  is  ill-chosen.  A 
counsellor  can  be  jusl,  wist',  exccllcni .  hut 
hardly  wondrous,  or  wonderful. 

I  find  over  and  over  a^ain  in  this  new 
version  what  ai)pear  to  me  as  unhappy  sub 
si  it  ul  ions  of  words,  in  Matthew  T)  (the  lieat  i- 
tiides)  we  read,  instead  of  the  traditional 
opening;,  "And  seeing  the  multitudes,  he 
went  up  into  a  mountain:  and  when  he  was 
set  .  .  .  he  o|)ened  his  mouth,  ami  tau«lil 
Iheni,  sayin^;,"  the  substitute  phrase,  "And 
seeiuK  the  crowds."  Hut  "crowds"  is  not  a 
proper  substitute  for  " muIliUides,"  a  word 
connoting  lar^e  numbers  of  people  ^;alhered 
to^jether  as  individuals.  A  crowd  is  a  collec- 
tive enlily.  in  which  the  person  is  sub- 
merged. The  New  Oxford  Dictionary  defines 
a  crowd  as  "a  number  of  persons  Kathered 
.so  closely  together  as  to  press  each  other," 
and  the  sense  of  the  crowd  is  immediately 
communicated  when  the  noun  is  used  as  a 
verb,  where  it  means  push,  shove,  press  - 
"IX)n't  aowd  me."  Somehow  I  cannot 
imagine  the  Beatitudes'  beiuR  thoughtfully 
listened  to  and  digested  by  a  crowd.  Luther's 
Bible  describes  the  gathering  simply  as  "the 
people"  (Volk). 

There  is  insuilkient  space  in  an  article  such 
as  this  one  to  pile  illustration  upon  illustra- 
tion as  could  be  done,  but  as  one  final  ex- 
ample of  what  seems  to  me  to  be  emascula- 
tion of  language  there  is  the  changed  version 
of  the  13th  Chapter  of  1st  Corinthians,  be- 
ginning: "Though  I  speak  with  the  tongues 
of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have  not  charity . . ." 

This  little  essay  of  only  270  words  has 
always  seemed  to  me  to  be  one  of  the  most 
perfect  pieces  of  prose  in  our  language,  the 
content  and  form  so  perfectly  wedded  that 
I  cannot  see  how  anyone  would  dare  to 
touch  it. 

Previous  versions  substituted  the  word 
"love"  for  "charity."  Luther  used  it  {Lube) 
in  the  first  place.  "Charily"  has,  alas,  lost 
much  of  its  content  of  cherishing  and  loving- 
kindness.  "Love"  no  doubt  is  closer  to  the 
original  meaning.  But  I  do  not  see  why  the 
new  authors  chose  to  begin  with  "  If  I  speak," 
instead  of  with  "Though  I  speak,"  for 
"though"  suggests  that  I  may  well  be  able 
to  speak  like  an  angel  and  is  closer  to  the 
sense  of  what  follows,  while  "if"  is  more  in- 
differently conditional,  and  "though,"  with 
its  long  round  vowel,  is  a  word  of  greater  tone 
than  the  iffy  "if." 

^^HAT  follows  the  thoughs,  or  the  ifs,  is  a 
description  of  what  Christian  and  loving  be- 
havior is  not,  and  is,  what  it  does  not,  and 
does  do.  I  underline  "do"  because  through- 
out the  chapter  verbs  are  used,  eight  of  them 
in  as  many  lines:  "Love  suffereth  long  .  .  . 
envieth  not;  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not 
puffed  up,  doth  not  behave  itself  unseemly, 
seeketh  not  her  own  .  .  .  thinketh  no  evil, 
rejoiceth  not  in  iniquity,  but  rejoiceth  in  the 
truth." 

Now  verbs,  the  words  of  action,  are  the 
strongest  category  of  words  in  the  language, 
and  great  and  strong  writing  avoids  adjec- 
tives and  adverbs  as  enemies  that  weaken 
nouns  and  verbs.  The  soliloquy  of  Hamlet, 
almost  all  nouns  and  verbs,  is  an  example. 
But  whereas  the  King  James  version  ex- 
presses love  and  the  antithesis  of  loving  be- 
havior in  eight  lines  containing  eight  verbs 
and  only  two  adverbs,  the  new  version 
uses  seven  adjectives  and  only  two  verbs. 
Love  no  longer  suffereth  long  but  is  "pa- 
tient." "Love"— the  new  version  con- 
tinues—"is  not  jealous,  or  boastful,  arro- 
gant or  rude,  irritable  or  resentful."  If  these 
are  an  improvement  on  the  old  version  in 
which  the  unloving  are  behaving  themselves, 
actively,  in  unpleasant  ways,  then  all  that 
I  have  tried  to  learn  about  writing  the  Eng- 
lish language  in  a  generation  of  effort  has 


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sees 


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LUCIEN  LELONG 


been  wasted.  And,  unquestionably,  the  ex- 
quisite balance  and  rhythm  of  the  chapter, 
which  thousands  of  people  have  committed 
to  memory,  are  injured. 

Probably  in  the  long  run,  this  will  not 
matter.  The  new  version  may,  indeed, 
awaken  a  fresh  interest  in  the  Bible,  and  lead 
many  to  read  it,  even  to  read  the  King 
James  version.  Had  I  no  other  Bible,  I 
would  read  this  one,  for  it,  too,  is  the  Great 
Book.  But  I  would  always  hear,  as  an  over- 
tone to  its  flatter,  if  more  modern,  speech, 
the  distant  thunder  and  the  majestic  music 
of  the  old. 


NO  LOVE 
LIKE  OUR  LOVE 

(Continued  from  Page  51) 

Terry  sighed  resignedly.  This  was  how  the 
family  always  behaved  when  the  talk  turned 
to  Cousin  Robert  and  his  wife.  A  few  words 
of  condemnation,  and  then  the  subject  was 
changed.  Well,  none  of  them  could  prevent 
her  from  holding  her  own  views. 

"I  promised  Brigid  I'd  pick  raspberries," 
she  said.  "She  wants  to  make  jam." 

"Tell  her  to  use  the  two-minute  recipe," 
Aunt  Sarah  said,  joining  her  plump  hands  on 
her  stomach.  "Overcooking  ruins  the  flavor. 
You'll  find  a  basket  in  the  back  hall." 

With  the  basket  on  her  arm,  Terry  stood 
in  the  kitchen  door  and  watched  Brigid  as 
she  mixed  the  dough  for  tea  scones.  The 
angular  iron-haired  woman  had  a  way  of 
attacking  even  the  smallest  of  her  jobs  with 
a  relishing  vigor  which  Terry  found  fasci- 
nating. She  poured  in  the  buttermilk  as  if  it 
were  the  lifeblood  of  her  bitterest  enemy.  She 
pommeled  the  dough  as  if  the  miller  respon- 
sible for  the  flour  had  betrayed  her  nearest 
and  dearest.  She  scraped  it  from  the  bowl 
and  slapped  it  on  the  table  with  the  air  of  a 
wrestler  tearing  his  opponent  from  the  ropes 
and  throwing  him  to  the  canvas. 

"Will  you  be  having  a  bathing  picnic  this 
evening.  Miss  Terry?"  she  asked  over  her 
shoulder.  Her  sweet  caressing  Connemara 
voice  was  startlingly  at  variance  with  her 
appearance. 

"I  will,  Brigid,"  the  girl  said  happily. 
"The  tide  will  be  in  at  nine.  And  there  will 
be  a  full  moon." 

"A  vacuum  bottle  of  coffee,  so."  Brigid 
attacked  the  dough  with  a  rolling  pin.  "A 
half  dozen  of  these  split  and  buttered,  with 
ham.  And  another  half  dozen  with  the  new 
raspberry  jam  if  it's  finished  in  time." 

"Lovely,  Brigid." 

"You'll  be  going  with  young  Devane,  I 
suppose?"  As  if  wielding  a  bayonet,  she 
slashed  the  dough  into  triangles.  "Him 
that's  always  digging  and  delving  for  bits  of 
seaweed." 

To  hear  Michael's  name  mentioned  was 
enough  to  make  Terry's  blood  race.  "He's 
writing  a  thesis  on  marine  plants." 

"Whatever  that  may  be,"  Brigid  com- 
mented. 

"Brigid."  Terry  came  farther  into  the 
kitchen.  "Look,  Brigid. . .  .  Neither  mummy 
nor  daddy  nor  Aunt  Sarah  nor  any  of  them 
will  ever  let  me  talk  about  Cousin  Robert 
and  his  wife.  You  knew  them,  didn't  you? 
What  were  they  like?  To  look  at,  I  mean?" 

Brigid  lifted  the  tray  of  scones  from  the 
table  and  set  it  down  again.  "What  were 
they  like?"  she  echoed,  thinking  back. 
"Well,  Robert  Rooney  was  as  handsome  a 
man  as  you'd  meet  in  a  day's  walk.  Tall  and 
proud  and  black-eyed,  and  with  a  mane  of 
black  hair.  It's  well  I  remember  him.  An 
eagle  of  a  man,  he  was."  Picturing  him,  she 
fell  silent. 

"And  she?"  Terry  urged.  "Mrs.  Fene- 
lon — what  was  she  like?" 

"As  bright  as  he  was  dark,"  Brigid  said. 
"Mary  Fenelon  was  as  slender  and  as  supple 
as  a  sally.  She  had  a  way  of  moving  that 
would  make  you  wonder  was  she  earthbound 
at  all.  A  lovely  gray-eyed  woman  with  a 
flaming  head  of  hair  that  would  light  up  a 
whole  townland,  and  her  skin  was  as  creamy 
as  the  milk  there  in  that  jug."  Seriously, 
Brigid  added,  "Down  here  we  have  a  saying 


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on  (ire  as  an  offerinn  f<»r  K(x>d  skin.  Ii  riiiKlii 
be  true." 

"I  knew  it!"  Terry  breathed.  "Oh.  I  al- 
w.iys  knew  il!"  To  the  rest  of  the  family 
Kiibcrl  and  Mary  were  a  cause  of  shame. 
I'lom  llie  lime  Terry  had  l)een  old  enounh  to 
read  the  poems  and  tiovcis  wiiicli,  acc■ordln^; 
lo  iicr  mollier  and  lather  and  Aunl  Siirali, 
served  only  lo  |i,t  head  with  romantic 
rubbish,  she  had  seen  llie  family  skeletons  as 
'Irislan  and  Isolde,  as  Uomco  and  juliel.  Il 
liiled  her  with  joyous  salislaclKiii  lo  l)e  as 
sured  thai  their  l(M)ks  really  liltctl  iheni  foi 
Ihc  role  life  had  chosen  for  Iheni. 

"  There's  no  doubt  that  as(;od  made  them 
He  niauiied  them,"  Urinid  said.  "Thounh  I 
hope  I'm  not  uuilly  of  hiasphemy  lo  say  such 
a  tiling,  seeinn  the  way  they  went  aKainsl  the 
laws  of  the  cluirch.  And  by  the  same  holy 
token,  Miss  Terry,  don't  ever  let  on  to  the 
mistress  that  I  talked  to  you  hke  this  about 
litem.  She'd  have  my  life." 

"1  won't  say  a  word,  Hriuid." 

Like  a  rouKh-hewn  Sak)ine  i)eariiu;  her 
grisly  platter  in  fierce  triumph,  Hrl^;ld  car- 
ried her  tray  of  scones  lo  the  stove,  wiiete  she 
thrust  it  into  liie  oven  as  if  disp()sin^;  of  the 
evidence  of  a  murder.  "And  now  you'd  heller 
be  picking  the  raspberries,  or  there'll  be  no 
jam  for  your  picnic  loninhl." 

The  house  sl(K)d  on  a  ijromonlory.  Tiie 
garden  which  Aunl  Sarah's  jiarenls  had 
coaxed  from  the  reluctant  Conncmara  soil 
ran  ri^hl  lo  the  edge  of  Ihe  cliff  where  a  wall 
of  uncemenled  slone  piled  on  loose  stone 
gave  the  fruit  bushes  a  measure  of  protection 

□□□□□□□□□□□□□ 

If  marriage  is  to  be  a  success,  one 
shouici  obviously  begin  by  marrying 
the  right  person. 

—HERMANN  KEYSERLING 
□□□□□□□□□□□□□ 


when  Atlantic  winds  blew  harsh  and  high. 
Today  only  the  merest  wisp  of  a  breeze 
floated  through  the  garden. 

In  the  shade  of  the  big  rowan  tree,  .^unt 
Sarah  was  sunk  in  the  delicious  languor 
which  comes  when  lunch  has  been  digested 
and  lea  is  on  the  way.  From  far  below  came  a 
splashing  of  gentle  waves,  lazy  and  soothing 
like  the  hum  of  the  bees  which  pretended  to 
be  busy  among  the  larkspurs  and  hollyhocks. 
Everything  was  slowed  down  except  the 
nimble  fingers  of  Terry  as  she  picked  the 
raspberries.  Everything  was  muted  except 
the  singing  in  Terry's  heart. 

With  drowsy  pleasure  Aunt  Sarah's  eyes 
followed  her  grandniece  as  she  moved  ainong 
the  raspberry  canes.  She  made  a  picture 
which  anyone  would  have  found  pleasant — 
a  golden  girl  in  a  golden  haze  of  sun  picking 
ruby  berries  into  a  wide  baskel  of  green 
rushes.  To  Aunt  Sarah  the  picture  would 
have  been  even  more  pleasant  if  only  Terry 
would  wear  a  proper  skirt  instead  of  those 
ridiculous  shorts,  if  only  she  would  be  sen- 
sible and  protect  her  head  with  a  wide- 
brimmed  hat. 

"You'll  get  sunstroke,  child,"  she  grum- 
bled mildly.  "Your  complexion  will  be 
ruined.  And  every  bit  of  color  will  be 
bleached  out  of  your  hair." 

"  But  I  love  the  sun,"  Terry  said,  while  her 
heart  added.  And  the  rain  and  the  wind  and 
the  whole  world  and  everything  in  it!  "  I  love  to 
feel  it  lighting  me  up."  Her  face  and  limbs 
were  as  toasted  as  ripe  wheat.  Her  hair  was 
as  new-minted  as  gorse  blossom. 

Aunt  Sarah  did  not  insist  on  the  hat.  The 
afternoon  was  too  hot  for  insistence.  "There's 
no  doubt  that  the  sun  seems  to  agree  with 
you,"  she  admitted.  "When  I  think  of  the 
little  white  peaked  face  of  you  the  day  you 
arrived  from  Dublin— and  that's  a  bare 
month  ago." 

A  month  ago  I  hadn't  met  Michael,  Terry 
marveled  to  herself.  A  month  ago  I  knew  noth- 
ing of  love.  Blessed,  blessed  attack  of  flu 
which  had  sent  her  to  Rowanmore  to  recu- 
perate !  And  to  think  she  had  fought  against 


VEOHAUi 
CLiANINO 


Brushes  with  bristles  of 

VM  PONT  NYLON 

make  so  many  jobs  so  easy 


BOTTLE 
SHING 


WAU-DUSTINO 


Look  at  all  the  household  tasks  you  can  lighten  with  brushes 
that  have  Du  Pont  nylon  bristles !  For  every  room  in  your  house, 
there  are  these  and  many  other  nylon-bristled  brushes  to  do 
specific  cleaning  jobs  more  thoroughly  . . .  more  quickly  . .  .  more 
easily.  And  when  housework's  done,  just  give  yotir  nylon  brushes 
a  rinse  and  a  shake  —  they  dry  sparkling  clean  in  a  jiffy.  Resili- 
ent Du  Pont  nylon  bristles  don't  absorb  odors,  break  off  or  get 
limp  . . .  give  far  longer  service  than  ordinary  bristles.  Atid  they 
can  be  sterilized  by  boiUng,  too.  Nylon -bristled  hotisehold  brushes 
are  available  at  most  hardware,  variety  and  department  stores. 


The  best  brushes  have 

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THROUGH  CHEMISTRY 


I 

I 


208 


LADIES' 


II    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


ITS  A  FAMILY  TRADITION 


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COTTON  TIPS 


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iiy  the  dependable 

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coming.  "But,  mummy,  there's  nothing  to 
do  down  there!"  she  had  objected.  "Every- 
one in  the  place  is  as  ancient  as  Aunt  Sarah 
and  her  maid.  It's  deadly— I'll  die!"  Re- 
membering how  she  had  almost  had  her  way, 
her  heart  gave  a  sick  jolt  at  the  realization 
of  how  close  she  had  come  to  missing 
Michael.  But  how  was  she  to  have  guessed 
that  love  would  be  waiting  for  her  at 
Rowanmore  ? 

Her  hair  had  been  their  introduction.  She 
had  been  sitting  on  the  rocks  after  her  swim, 
feeling  lonely  and  bored  and  wishing  it  were 
time  to  go  back  to  Dublin.  Her  hair  was 
loose.  To  her  bare  shoulders  the  sun-soaked 
mass  of  it  felt  like  a  silky  cape. 

There  was  a  scramble  on  the  rocks  behind 
her,  and  a  voice  that  held  gaiety  and  tender- 
ness and — yes — reverence  was  quoting  softly, 

"  and  only  God.  my  dear,  Could  love  you 

for  yourself  alone,  And  not  your  yellow  hair." 

"Yeats,"  she  answered,  without  taking 
her  eyes  from  where  the  mackerel  fleet  was 
rounding  .N'eelin  Point  just  below  Cousin 
Robert's  house.  "'For  Anne  Gregory.'"  She 
turned  and  saw  a  long  lean  boy  of  twenty- 
two  whose  eyes  and  mouth  confirmed  the 
qualities  in  his  voice.  Afterward,  they  told 
each  other  that  in  that  moment  they  knew 
how  it  was  going  to  be  between  them. 

"It  was  the  way  you  looked  up  at  me 
through  your  hair,"  Michael  said,  "like  a 
lost  shy  mermaid." 

"  It  was  the  way  your  face  matched  your 
voice,"  Terry  confessed.  Both  were  agreed 
that  nothing  written  by  the  poets  had  pre- 
pared them  for  the  wonder  of  it. 

Aunt  Sarah's  voice  grew  drowsier.  "Sea, 
air,  sunshine  and  Brigid's  good  cooking — 
there's  no  tonic  like  it.  They  won't  know  you 
when  you  go  home." 

Terry  let  a  handful  of  berries  trickle  over 
her  palm  to  join  the  growing  pile  in  the 
basket.  She  glanced  at  her  wrist  watch.  Half 
past  three.  In  four  hours  Michael  would  be 
calling  for  her.  At  the  thought,  the  singing  in 
her  heart  became  louder  and  wilder  and 
sweeter.  She  felt  a  great  wish  to  give  voice  to 
it,  to  cry,  "Sun  and  air  and  food  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  the  change  in  me.  Aunt 
Sarah!  It's  love,  it's  Michael!  Are  you  blind 
that  you  can't  see  that  it's  glowing  with  love 
I  am?" 

She  looked  to  where  the  gray  head  nodded 
in  the  shade  of  the  rowan.  Poor  Aunt 
Sarah. ...  A  quick  pity  seized  her  for  all  who 
are  without  love,  for  the  old,  the  unromantic, 
the  stodgy.  Aunt  Sarah  would  not  under- 
stand about  this  wonderful  lovely  thing 
which  had  come  to  her.  Suppose  she  told 
her — suppose  she  said,  "Aunt  Sarah,  I  could 
die  with  happiness!  Michael  loves  me,  so 
nothing  is  ordinary  any  more.  Water  tastes 
like  wine,  every  weed  is  a  flower  and  the 
sands  where  we  walk  together  are  gold  dust ! " 

Her  juice-stained  fingers  seeking  out  the 
fruit,  Terry  giggled  as  she  visualized  Aunt 
Sarah's  reaction.  A  mild  concern  would  dawn 
in  the_faded  eyes.  "  Didn't  I  warn  you  about 
wearing  a  hat?"  Aunt  Sarah  would  say. 
"It's  what  you  have  a  touch  of  sun,  child. 
Run  in  and  lie  down  and  I'll  get  Brigid  to 
make  you  a  cup  of  camomile.  Tomorrow 
morning  you'll  feel  as  right  as  rain." 

Aunt  Sarah,  placid  and  age-heavy,  could 
not  be  expected  to  understand.  Nor  could 
she  look  for  real  understanding  to  mummy 
and  daddy,  who  had,  as  they  put  it,  "mar- 
ried sensibly,"  and  who  never  tired  of  pour- 
ing contempt  on  "romantic  notions."  In 
spite  of  her  happiness,  Terry  felt  a  twinge  of 
melancholy  at  the  realization  that  to  feel 
deeply  is  to  exile  oneself  from  the  majority, 
that  a  big  joy  no  less  than  a  big  sorrow  has 
its  loneliness.  Down  on  the  plains,  she  re- 
flected, there  is  plenty  of  company.  Those  who 
live  on  the  heights  live  alone. 

She  turned  and  looked  out  to  sea.  Over 
there  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Neelin  were  people 
who  would  understand.  That  Pair  were  her 
kind,  hers  and  Michael's.  She  felt  a  warm 
sense  of  companionship  with  the  lovely  slen- 
der woman  and  the  dark  proud  man  who  had 
been  content  to  lose  everything  in  finding 
love.  It  would  be  grand,  Terry  thought,  to 
meet  them.  Just  to  sit  for  a  little  while  with 


people  who  spoke  one's  own  language.  Even 
if  the  surface  words  dealt  only  with  the 
weather  and  fashions  and  the  look  of  the 
countryside,  deep  down  they  would  be  saying 
to  each  other,  "We  belong." 

She  turned  back  to  her  fruit  picking.  Well, 
why  not?  she  asked  herself  with  rising  excite- 
ment and  wondering  why  she  had  not 
thought  of  it  before.  Why  not  get  Michael  to 
drive  her  over  this  very  evening?  As  a  rela- 
tion of  Robert,  however  distant,  surely  she 
could  call  on  them  without  seeming  to  take 
a  liberty.  Aunt  Sarah  must  not  know,  of 
course.  But  she  need  never  find  out. 

The  evenings  could  be  very  chilly  in 
Rowanmore.  Terry  decided  on  her  green 
sweater  and  the  new  white  linen  skirt  which 
she  had  been  saving  for  a  really  big  occasion. 
Well,  this  was  it.  Instead  of  tying  her  hair 
in  a  pony  tail  she  brushed  it  out  and  bound 
a  narrow  fillet  of  green  velvet  about  her  head. 
She  put  on  her  best  sheer  nylons  and  her 
white  suede  pumps.  Everything  about  her 


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appearance  would  show  Cousin  Robert  and 
his  wife  how  important  to  her  was  this  visit. 

She  was  sprinkling  a  handkerchief  with 
lavender  water  when  she  heard  the  honking 
of  the  horn.  As  if  all  her  life  she  had  been 
waiting  for  this  summons,  Terry  went  rigid 
for  a  second.  She  snatched  up  her  white 
woolly  coat  and  sped  down  the  stairs.  She 
paused  in  the  hall  just  long  enough  to  call, 
"By-by,  Aunt  Sarah.  So  long,  Brigid,"  and 
to  pick  up  the  picnic  basket  from  the  hall 
table.  Then  she  was  running  down  the  leaf- 
speckled  drive  to  where  Michael's  car  waited 
for  her  at  the  gate. 

"Let  me  look  at  you,  darling,"  he  said 
when  she  was  sitting  beside  him.  "When  I 
haven't  seen  you  for  a  couple  of  hours,  you're 
a  lovely  surprise  to  me  all  over  again." 

They  kissed,  and  she  said  shakily,  "Every 
time  you  kiss  me,  it's  always  the  first  kiss. 
There  was  a  Spanish  song  on  the  radio  about 
a  girl  who  asked  a  jeweler  to  set  her  lover's 
kiss  in  gold  for  her — she  wanted  to  wear  it 
at  her  breast.  That's  what  I'd  like  to  do." 

With  a  gentle  finger  tip,  he  traced  the 
delicate  arches  of  her  eyebrows.  "The  kisses 
I  have  for  you  would  keep  all  the  jewelers  in 
the  world  working  overtime.  From  now  un- 
til life  everlasting.  Amen."  Then  he  noticed 
the  careful  hairdo  and  the  stockings  and  the 
skirt.  "But  what's  this  in  aid  of,  Terry?  I 
thought  we  were  going  for  a  swim." 

"Not  tonight,  darling.  I  want  you  to  take 
me  over  to  Neelin  Point."  When  she  told 


March,  i< 


him  why,  he  understood  as  she  had  known  | 
would.  "It's  just  that  I'm  so  wildly  happ 
Michael.  So— so  lifted  up  with  love, 
there  are  so  few  people  who  love  the  way ' 
do.  That's  why  I'd  like  to  meet  Robert ; 
Mary.  They're  our  kind." 

A  mile  or  two  beyond  the  village,  the  roJ 
to  the  point  left  the  main  road.  On  their  lei 
its  white  and  dusty  meanderings  were  prl 
tected  by   the   purple  mountain  slope 
jeweled  here  and  there  with  silver  trou 
troubled  lakes.  On  their  right,  the  incomii] 
tide  advanced  in  an  endless  procession 
small  dancing  waves  that  broke  into  laj 
when  they  lipped  the  low  rocks.  The  sky  i 
the  setting  sun  were  drowning  in  the  seJ 
making  the  water  a  glory  of  gold  and  roa 
which,  being  reflected,  glorified  every  whitd 
washed  cottage  and  every  stack  of  hay.  Thq 
magic  light  gave  the  stature  and  nobility  ( 
old-time  chieftains  to  the  men  who  wed 
hanging  the  plum-colored  seaweed  to  dry  o| 
the  garden  walls.  It  gave  the  dignity  ani 
beauty  of  queens  to  the  women  who,  with  i 
child  by  the  hand  or  a  child  at  the  breasJ 
stood  at  the  cottage  doors  watching  theil 
men.  To  the  boy  and  girl  who  drove  withoul 
speaking  because  their  tongues  could  noj 
keep  pace  with  the  racing  of  their  hearts,  thJ 
beauty  of  sea  and  mountain,  of  sun  and  skjf 
was  the  result  rather  than  the  cause  of  tha 
enchanted  evening.  Love  was  the  mainspring 
of  the  enchantment  that  was  remaking  thq 
world,  and  they  felt  a  proud  kinship  with 
Robert  and  Mary  and  with  all  who  by  loving 
greatly  had  contributed  to  it. 

At  a  little  distance  from  the  house,  Michael 
stopped  the  car.  "Look,  Terry,"  he  said 
diffidently,  "don't  you  think  it  might  bel 
an  intrusion  if  I  barged  in?  Won't  you  find  it| 
easier  to  get  acquainted  if  I'm  not  there?' 

She  considered.  "M-m-m.  Maybe  you'rel 
right,  darling.  Maybe  I'd  better  introducel 
myself  first.  Then  I'll  come  out  for  you." 

"Good.  I  see  a  likely-looking  pool  overl 
there  in  the  rocks  where  I  may  pick  up  al 
specimen  or  two  while  I'm  waiting."  He  I 
grinned  in  the  sudden  eight-year-old  way  I 
which  always  made  her  heart  turn  over  with  j 
tenderness.  "I  was  thinking  today  what  a 
world  shaker  my  thesis  would  be  if  I  included 
my  greatest  find. '  This  specimen  of  the  genus 
girl  was  found  growing  on  the  rocks  at  Rowan-  j 
more.  In  form  and  coloring  it  is  unique.  Itl 
thrives  on  love.'"  He  pressed  a  kiss  into  the 
palm  of  her  hand  and  closed  her  fingers  on  it. 
"That's  just  to  be  going  on  with,"  he  said. 

The  house,  a  long  low  house  of  gray  stone 
roofed  with  dim  blue  slates,  stood  close  to  the 
road.  A  narrow  strip  of  ground  showing  the 
raw  beginnings  of  a  flower  garden  ran  below 
the  open  front  windows.  Against  a  wire  fence 
which  protected  the  hopeful  flower  beds  from 
goats  and  donkeys,  fuchsia  slips  sprouted 
gangly  and  thin  as  growing  children. 

Terry  hesitated  at  the  gate,  rehearsing 
what  she  would  say  when  Mary  opened  the 
door.  "I'm  Terry  Rooney.  I'm  Robert's 
cousin.  I  called  because  I  wanted  to  meet 
you  both."  She  pushed  open  the  gate  and, 
as  if  going  forward  to  a  big  adventure,  went 
eagerly  up  the  path  to  the  door. 

There  was  a  heavy  step.  Then  the  door 
was  opened  and  she  found  herself  looking  up 
at  a  man  of  sixty-odd,  a  big  paunchy  man 
with  slightly  stooped  shoulders.  His  head 
was  bald  except  for  a  ring  of  graying  hair. 
Taken  aback,  she  fumbled  for  words.  She  got 
help  from  the  kindliness  in  the  dark  eyes  that 
looked  at  her  from  under  bushy  eyebrows. 

"Mr.  Rooney?"  she  stammered.  "Mr. 
Robert  Rooney?" 

"That's  right,"  the  big  man  answered. 
"  Did  you  want  to  see  me?  "  She  searched  the 
heavy  face  for  the  proud  good  looks  of 
Brigid's  "eagle  of  a  man."  "I'm  Robert 
Rooney,"  he  repeated. 

She  swallowed.  "I'm  Terry  Rooney."  She 
found  it  hard  to  recognize  the  small  flat  voice 
as  her  own.  "  I — I'm  your  cousin." 

"Well!"  The  firm  warm  handshake  gave 
her  a  measure  of  reassurance.  "Isn't  this 
nice!  Come  in,  come  in.  You'd  be  John's 
daughter?" 

With  an  arm  about  her  shoulders  he  drew 
her  into  the  living  room  where  an  oil  lamp 
(Continued  on  Page  210} 


I.    A    I)     I     I.     S  •         II     O     \l     1  I     <)     I       11     N     \  I 


the  newest  rainwear 


/ 


Compkhly  ^''P"^"^' 


dtop: 


I 


VI. 

'51 


For  everyone  in  the  family!  So  lightweight 
you'll  hardly  know  you're  wearing  them ...  yet 
waterproof  Puddlers  are  long-lasting.  (The 
tough,  seamless,  reinforced  vinyl-plastic  will 
stand  up  for  seasons ..  .won't  crack  even  at 
40°  below!)  They're  fashion  right,  handy, 
pocket-sized.  They're  skid-resistant,  too!  Easy 
to  clean  with  a  damp  cloth . . .  easy  to  slip  off 
or  on.  Priced  so  thriftily  at  Woolworth's,  you 
can  afford  a  couple  of  pairs-tor  home,  office, 
traveling.  Why  not  get  your  Puddlers  at 
Woolworth's  now! 


A.  For  women,  misiei,  teent  1.95 

Teen's  style  in  wide  last  to  tit  ox- 
fords, loafers.  Smoky  black,  red, 
blue,  green  (women's  also  in  clear). 
Men's  style,  smoky  black.  2.49 

B.  Children'!  roln  shoe  Puddlers  79c 

Fitted  style  in  solid  brown  or  red; 
white  with  red  sole.  Sizes  4-11. 
Little  misses'  sizes  12-13.  98c 

C.  For  children,  little  mines     1  .69 

Sizes  7-13,  1-5.  Wide  last  fits  ox- 
fords, loafers.  Adjustable  strap. 
Red  with  white;  solid  brown. 


Good  rule  lor  school 


For  desk,  locker,  car 


Flighfweighf  for  frove/ing 


CJ 


Slip  Puddlers  into  school- 
bag.  No  trouble  at  all... 
at  hand  when  needed. 


Keep  in  office,  store,  fac- 
tory, car  . . .  and  never  be 
outwitted  by  weather! 


Put  Puddlers  in  suitcase, 
as  dry-foot  insurance 
for  your  travels. 


L    \   D    I    E  S 


H    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


March,  19  | 


I  dreamed  I  went 
to  the  Cireus  in 

maiden  firm  bm 

I'm  the  Circe  of  the  circus... the  gal  in  the  gallery 
with  the  gala  Maidenform  figure!  Clowns  jump  for  joy  in 

the  center  ring— and  the  applause  is  all  for  my  curves... 
circled  so  smoothly,  so  spectacularly  by  circular-stitched  Chansonette*! 

Shown:  Maidenform's  Chansonette,  in  your  favorite  fabrics .  .  .  from  2.00 
Send  for  free  style  booklet.  Maidenform,  New  York  16 

There  is  a  maidenform  for  every  type  of  figure* 


(Continued  from  Page  20S) 
threw  a  circle  of  pale  radiance  over  a  book- 
strewn  table  and  over  the  woman  who  put 
down  her  darning  as  they  entered. 

"We  have  a  visitor,  Mary,"  Robert  an- 
nounced. "Meet  Terry,  our  little  cousin." 

The  woman  who  came  forward  had  no 
sally-slender  suppleness,  no  glory  of  bur- 
nished hair.  Her  body  had  the  thickness  of 
middle  age  and  her  hair,  though  luxuriant, 
was  dulled.  But  even  to  Terry's  disappointed 
eyes  Mary's  face  still  held  traces  of  lost 
beauty,  and  her  welcome  was  as  warm  and  as 
kindly  as  Robert's. 

"It  was  lovely  of  you  to  call,  dear,"  she 
said.  "Are  you  spending  the  summer  here?" 

Terry  found  herself  replying  without  any 
of  the  happy  ease  she  had  believed  she  would 
find  in  her  cousins'  company.  She  was  tongue- 
tied  with  the  effort  to 
readjust  herself.  Ymi 
fool!  she  chided  her- 
self furiously.  Of  course 
they've  s,Toivn  old  and 
miilamorous.    Isn't  it 
over  twenty  years  since 
Brigid  knew  them?  But 
age  can't  have  done  any- 
thing to  the  glamour  of 
their  love — not  to  a  love 
like  theirs! 

Hungrily,  she 
watched  for  proofs  that 
Robert  and  Mary 
were  still  kindled  by  a 
tongue  of  the  flame 
that  burned  so  brightly 
in  Michael  and  her- 
self. The  visit  wore  on, 
and  she  could  find  no 
sign,  no  evidence  at  all 
that  the  two  who  had 
loved  so  passionately 
had  not  degenerated  in- 
to a  humdrum  married 
couple. 

It  can't  be  dead — 
it  can't!  she  told  herself 
rebelliously.  But  in 
their  way  of  looking  at 
and  speaking  to  each 
other  she  saw  nothing 
but  use  and  staleness. 

He  might  be  daddy  grumbling  about  the 
breakfast  bacon,  she  thought  disconsolately 
when  Robert  warned  his  wife,  "  Don't  forget 
the  beef  when  Lacey  calls  tomorrow.  I'm 
tired  of  the  everlasting  Connemara  lamb." 

And,  That's  the  way  mummy  speaks  to  daddy 
when  he  takes  a  secotul  helping  of  pastry!  she 
realized  with  a  sinking  heart  when  Mary  said 
sharply,  "Do  sit  out  of  the  draft,  Robert. 
You  know  you  can't  take  chances  with  your 
chest." 

A  feeling  of  panic  was  rising  in  her  when 
Mary,  whose  chair  faced  the  window,  said. 
"Is  that  boy  who's  walking  up  and  down 
outside  the  friend  who  drove  you  over? 
Won't  you  ask  him  to  come  in,  Terry?" 

The  girl  jumped  to  her  feet.  "  No,  no ! "  she 
protested  quickly.  It  would  be  unbearable  to 
sit  with  Michael  in  the  company  of  these 
two,  to  see  their  bright  love  mocked  by  this 
dead  travesty.  "He  lias  to  go — I  mean  we're 
both  in  a  hurry.  We  must  get  back." 

i%s  she  spoke  her  hasty  farewells,  she  knew 
they  must  think  her  rude  and  discourteous. 
But  she  did  not  care.  All  she  wanted  now  was 
to  get  away  from  them,  to  be  with  Michael, 
to  seek  his  reassurance. 

"What  is  it,  darling?"  he  asked  in  quick 
concern  when  he  saw  her  face.  "Were  they 
not  nice  to  you?" 

"  Oh,  they  were,  they  were ! "  Tightly,  as  if 
chnging  to  a  spar,  she  caught  his  arm  to  her 
side  and  hurried  him  away.  "But  it  was  ter- 
rible, Michael!  They're  old  and  not  a  bit 
good-looking  any  more.  But  that  wouldn't 
have  mattered  if  they  weren't  so  ordinary. 
Where  did  it  go,  Michael?  All  that  wild 
loving — it's  gone,  it's  dead!"  She  stopped 
and  turned  urgently  to  him.  "Is— is  that 
what  happens  to  love?  Always?  Will  it 
happen  to  us?"  Her  lips  were  trembling. 

"No,  darling— no!"  Where  a  jutting  rock 
offered  a  screen  from  the  windows  of  the 
house,  he  drew  her  to  him  and  kissed  her.  He 


kissed  her  until  the  trembling  of  her  lips  \ 
stilled  by  the  warmth  of  his,  until  the 
icky  fluttering  of  her  heart  steadied  to ' 
quick  high  beat  of  his  own.  He  put  a  \ 
each  side  of  her  face  and  tilted  back 
head.  "Look  at  me,  Terry."  For  a  se 
as  long  as  a  year  they  looked  into 
other's  eyes.  "Our  love  will  never 
darling." 

"It  won't — it  can't!"  she  said  breatl 
lessly.  "Our  love  is  special."  T 

She's  a  lovely  child,"  Mary  Rooney  sail 
"She's  very  much  in  love  with  that  boi 
Did  you  notice  how  her  face  lit  up  when 
told  her  he  was  waiting  for  her?" 

"She's  pretty  enough."  Robert  lit  a  cigi 
rette.  "But  she  had  very  httle  to  say  for  he: 
self,"  he  said.  "I  thought  her  rather  dull. 

"Perhaps  she  is  sh; 
Her  hair  is  beautiful 
Mary  lifted  a  cushio 
from  the  couch 
"Here — you  might  i 
well   be  comfortable! 
Such  a  man  as  yoi  \ 
are  for  neglecting  you'  \ 
comfort." 

"Why  should 
bother  when  I  have  you 
to  spoil  me?"  As  sht 
bent  over  him  to  tuc); 
the  cushion  at  his  back; 
he  smoothed  her  haii 
gently.  "Not  nearly  sc 
beautiful  as  yours— tlit 
child's  hair,  I  mean.' 

"  Dear  Robert.  Dear, 
darling  Robert."  Sb 
laid  her  cheek  againsi 
his  for  a  moment.  "An' 
now  I  had  better  get  o 
with  my  darning."  Sh 
settled  herself  with  he 
workbasket. 

Robert  took  an  open 
book  from  the  table 
"When  our  visitor  ar 
rived  I  had  just  come 
across  something 
by  Hartley  Coleridge 
Listen  to  it,  Mary. 
In  the  deep  quiet  voice 
which  would  always  be  her  favorite  music,  he 
read: 


Clem  Mes  a  Wife 

Bil  'tnhn  Travvra  Moori> 

At  Springtown  Fair,  the  booths 
rowed  bright 

Hold  jelly  jewels  in  shade  and 
light, 

Apples  red,  and  berries  there: 
At  Springtown  Fair. 

At  Springtown  Fair,  the  farm  wives 
take 

Angel  food  they  label  Cake, 
But  food  for  angels,  better  there: 
At  Springtown  Fair. 

At  Springtown  Fair,  I  found  a  song 
To  stay  with  me  this  life  along; 
I  looked  and  saw,  and  found  her 

there  — 
At  Springtown  Fair. 


"Is  love  a  fancy  or  a  feeling?  No, 
It  is  immortal  as  immaculate  Truth. 
'Tis  not  a  blossom,  shed  as  soon  as  youth 
Drops  from  tlie  stem  of  life. 

"Do  you  remember?" 
"I  remember."  She  smiled  at  him.  "You 
copied  it  out  and  sent  it  to  me  a  week  after 
we  found  we  were  in  love.  It  was  your  fir  i 
and  only  love  letter." 

He  nodded.  "It's  what  I'd  write  to  you 
today  if  we  were  apart.  How  little  we  knew 
in  those  days  about  loving.  We  thought  that 
falling  in  love  was  everything.  We  had  yet 
to  learn  that  growing  in  love  is  what  reall>' 
matters." 

She  let  her  hands  lie  idle  while  slie  bent 
her  head  in  the  gentle  remembering  attitude 
which  he  loved.  "How  does  the  poem  con- 
tinue? Don't  tell  me— I  should  know.  Wasn't 
it  my  only  nourishment  for  months?"  Her 
face  soft  in  the  lamplight,  she  quoted: 

"A  darkling  fire.  .  .  . 
Is  my  love's  being — yet  it  cannot  die 
Nor  will  it  change,  though  all  be  changed 
beside, 

Though  fairest  beauty  be  no  longer 
fair  " 

She  broke  off  and  sat  in  silence.  The  man's 
eyes  rested  in  proud  tenderness  on  the 
beloved  face. 

"Those  children!"  Mary  said  indulgently 
as  she  threaded  a  needle.  "I  wish  you  had 
seen  them  go  down  the  road  arm  in  arm. 
They  believe  they  have  invented  love." 

"That's  only  natural,  dearest.  Maybe  we 
had  the  same  belief." 

"Ah,  but  our  love  is  different!"  Mary  said 
quickly. 

"Our  love  is  special,"  Robert  agreed, 
going  back  to  his  book.  the  end 


Printed  in  U.  S.  A. 


;;^^'Toucli-aiicL-Glow' 


new  liquid  make-up  made  with  skin-softening  Lanolite 

You  know  the  lovely  velvet  look  your  skin  takes  on  by 
candlelight?  The  tender  glow  of  color,  the  all-but-flawless  texture? 
This  is  the  look  your  skin  can  have  (even  in  the  sunlight) 
with  'Touch-and-Glow'.  More  than  a  make-up-it's  a  scientifically 
blended  beauty  prescription  that  softens,  smooths,  protects 
your  skin!  8  divine  complexion  colors  (including  natural). 


The  fabulous  flattery  of  candlelight... captured  in  a  face  make-up! 


HTER  OF  BUGLE  ANN 

OMPLETE  IN  THIS  ISSUE 

MacKINLAY  kantor 


■^%^y<^  u  &<y^'  MY  TRUE  SEL, 

BEAUTIFUL  COMPLETE  WARDROBE 


f 


APRIL, 1953 


^iux^  CAN  THIS  Mr 

MARGERY  SHARP    •    VICTORIA  LINCOLN    •    ELi^   ^ETH  DUNN 


Narriman 
>E  SAVED? 


I   \  I)  I  I 


"•'Ml         I     «.    (      H     N     \  I 


PROVED  PROTECTION  FOR  YOU  AND  YOUR  CHILDREN 

New  Ipana  Destroys  Decay 
and  Bad-Breath  Bacteria 


New,  Exclusive,  Bacteria-Fighting  Formula!  Your  Teeth  and 
Breath  Stay  Cleaner. .  .You  Reduce  Decay  Better! 


THINK  of  the  trouble,  pain  and  expense  of  just 
one  tooth  cavity  in  your  family.  Think  of  how 
having  unpleasant  breath  just  "once  in  a  while" 
can  hurt  you  or  your  husband  —  and  even  hold 
him  back  at  work. 

Then  you'll  know  how  important  this  news  is 
to  you. 

Dental  scientists  have  now  proved  beyond  doubt 
that  new  creamy-white  Ipana  Tooth  Paste  destroys 
decay  and  bad-breath  bacteria. 

A  New,  Exclusive,  Formula 

This  new  Ipana  is  an  exclusive  formula  developed 
by  Ipana  scientists.  It  gives  you  a  combination  of 


2  to  1  choice  for  flavor! 

Children  love  the  taste  of  new  bacteria- 
fighting  Ipana.  It  was  the  2  to  I  choice 
for  flavor  of  thousands  of  families 
who  tried  it  at  home. 

Creamy-White 

Product  of  Bristol-Myers 


bacteria-destroying  agents  not  found  in  any  other 
tooth  paste. 

Independent  research  authorities  proved  that 
regular  after-meal  brushmg  with  this  new  Ipana 
reduced  bacteria  in  the  mouth  —  including  decay 
and  bad-breath  bacteria  —  by  an  average  of  84%. 

Amazing  Results — For  YOU 

Dentists  generally  will  tell  you  that  new  Ipana 
effectiveh  reduces  tooth  decay,  when  used  regu- 
larly after  meals. 
In  tests  by  an  independent  laboratory,  just  one 


brushing  with  new  Ipana  stopped  offensive  mouth 
odor  even  after  4  hours  —  in  e\ery  single  case. 

So  get  a  tube  of  new  good-tasting,  white  Ipana 
today  —  for  the  mouth  health  of  your  whole  fam- 
ily. Remember  new  Ipaoa  destroys  decay  and  bad- 
breath  bacteria. 


can  Start 


Penetrates  to  "danger  spots."  New  Ipana's  bac- 
teria-destroying foam  penetrates  to  hard-to-gct-at 
"danger  spots"  where  your  tooth  brush — or  even  water 
— can't  reach.  Thus  it  helps  vou  ha\e  fewer  cavities 
and  a  cleaner  breath.  And  brushing  teeth  from  gum 
margins  toward  biting  edges  with  Ipana  helps  remove 
irritants  that  can  lead  to  gum  troubles. 


The  Tooth  Paste  that  Destroys 

Decay  and  Bad-Breath  Bacteria 


LADIES'       HOME       .1    O    U    U    N   A  L 


April,  1953] 


e  au 


B 


R 


E  C 


K 


BRECK     HAIRDRESS  KEEPS 

Breck  Hairdress  is  a  cream  lotion  which  keeps  hair  soft  and 
manageable.  A  few  drops,  smoothed  or  brushed  gently  onto 
your  hair  will  make  it  lustrous  and  easy  to  arrange,  without 
leaving  an  oily  appearance.   Breck  Hairdress  also  conditions 

Breck  Hairdress  is  available  at  Beauty  Shops,  Drug  Stores,  Department  Stores  and  wherever  cosmetics  are  sold. 

JOHN  H  BRECK  INC  •  MANUFACTURING  CHEMISTS  •  SPRINGFIELD  J  MASSACHUSETTS 

NEW  YORK  ■  CHICAGO  ■  SAN  FRANCISCO  •  OT     TAWA  CANADA 


HAIR     SOFT     AND     IN  PLACE 

dry,  brittle  hair  and  is  especially  helpful  when  hair  has 
become  dry  or  damaged  from  permanent  waving,  bleaching  or 
coloring.  When  diluted  and  used  as  a  cream  rinse  after  your 
shampoo,  Breck  Hairdress  makes  combing  and  setting  easy. 


/ 


liicKiiiliiy  Ktiiilor 


Joi/rmlities' 


MacKini.ay  Kan- 
TOK  "Mack"  to  his 
IVicnds-  liUH  written 
two  (lo/(-n  books, 
raiif^iiig  IVorn  Divcrscv 
(mH),  llie  first  iK.vi-l 
ever  written  alxuil 
(lliicago  j^anf;st(!rs,  to 
Sifiiuil  I'll  i  rty  ■Two 
(1**50),  a  "cop's-cryo 
vii'w"  of  New  York, 
lie  wrote  tlie  original  story  for  tl»al 
brilliant  movie  The  Best  Years  of  Our 
l.iirs.  His  ciiief  writing  interests  are 
I  lie  (livil  War  period  ( Long  Remember, 
Arouse  and  Beware)  and  Western  Amer- 
icana ( R(miance  of  Rosy  Ridge.  The  I'oire 
of  Bugle  Ann  ).  Tin-  Ihiughlvr  of  Hiifsle 
Ann,  Page  Mi,  is  a  novel  about  a 
Missouri  foxhound  that  has  a  voice 
as  heaulilul  as  iier  mother's. 

Victoria  Lincoln, 
also  a  distinguished 
novelist,  lives  near 
Haltimore  in  a  sprawl- 
i  n  g  white  early- 
Victorian  ex-farm- 
house with  her  luis- 
hand  and  three  chil- 
dren—  "all  intense 
individualists  with 
the  nervous  tic  of 
playing  the  piano  a  great  deal  and  very 
badly."  She  likes  parties,  food  and 
people,  but  she  forgets  names,  she 
says,  and  fumbles  awkwardly  at  intro- 
ductions. Her  short  story,  Make  Me 
Real,  Page  40,  makes  real  again  that 
quaint,  unreal  decade  of  the  twjBnties. 

"My  childhood  was 
spent  in  Malta,"  re- 
calls Marceky  Sharp 
(Decline  ami  Fall, 
Page  46).  "I  was  a 
virtuous  infant,  good 
in  all  kindergarten 
studies,  and  blotted 
my  copybook  only 
once.  For  that  I  had 
to  write  'I  must  not 
play  with  nik'  twenty  times.  I  have 
been  playing  with  ink  ever  since.  I  live 
mostly  in  London,  but  was  married  in 
New  York,  which  partly  accounts  for 
my  love  of  the  United  States."  Some 
of  her-  best-known  novels  are  The 
Nutmeg  Tree,  Cluny  Brown,  The  Flower- 
ing Thorn  and  Britannia  Mews. 


\  it-ttiriu  Lincoln 


Margery  Sharp 


.\o%  »'l  I  «Mi<l«'iiNji||,.ii  I  <iiii|>l.-i«-  In  TIiIn  Imhii,- 

'I'll.-  I)m,(;l,l,-,  ,,(  H,,..|,    \„„  \,,„ 

Mukc  Mr  Kiiil 
A  Miithrr'H  Duly 
Drrliiir  iiiiil 

Miirriii^i-  Ih  N.il  for  MurOm 
I'liw  .liiiiicHoii  (I'liiirlli  purl  (if  livr) 

^|M'<-iiil  F«>iiliir<>N 

Di^^iiily  ill  I  )iii|i<TM 

Tin-    l.illlilH   of    rill.li.   -S.  IkmiI     I    iIiII  ,|||..|| 

'r<Tii-  \<;c  VoliiiilriTH 
Aiixiliiiry  Niir-tCH  Ninl.-.l 
.Sii/aiiiie  Viiliiiliiii 


\l,l^ 


i  II  till  III  t .1111  iitn 
S|i«l>l  If  I- M  l 
\1itinrt\  slim fi 
I  limlm  lh  I  hum 

I  tiling  Mtiiliiii-t 


/>../.^/i>    III,  tllt/IMlll 


Itrriiiinliiii-  Kirlly 
(,liiil\s  'I'iiImt 


Miiilitiiil  lliihrv 
I'aiiiliiifi  hv  I'irrn--  tiniii\lf  liriiuir 
Drm  riiiliim  hy  Jnlm  H  alki-r 

(.an  'I'liiB  Miirria<;r  be  Suvrd?  d'oiirlh  of  u  Brrirx)  

^  oil  Slioiild  know  All  ThiH  MmhiI  (  Iiiik  i  t  I'l  li  r  llriuu' 

Thai  Old  Vinix  /.„,/  I  Ull 

My  Triic  .Self  (  Tjiinl  |iarl  of  four) 

ILHAI.  I'riiirvsx  \arriiiiiiii,  ii\  Inlil  In  K/nii^  lllix  nu  r 
Dralli  of  a  Sol.lirr  /  ,    I ),„„l  l(   I hmli,-^ 

I'olilical  I'iljjriiiis  <  iarrv  On 

How  '^<)iiii{;  Aiiiericu  l.ivrs:  Lucky  u:  \a>vi-  I,.  \l    U  /n/c 

4M>ii«'rjil  F«'»liir«>N 

Our  l{cu<l(-r.s  W  riu-  Uh  

L'ii<lcr-(  lover  .SiiilT  

Diary  of  Domoslieily  

Hefercnce  Library  

Making;  M  arriiij^c    ork   (JiJJoril  H.  itliims 

Teen-Age  Tempest  (The  Siili-Dek)  ....  ijliti'd  hy  Hiilli  Imli-r 
Fifly  Years  Ago  •  .lotinial  Altoiil  'I'own  .  , 

There's  a  Man  in  llie  Mouse   Ilnilnn  Milh  r 

Ask  Any  \\  oiiiaii   \l<iri  i  li  iir(.tix 

The  ("lilld  N\  lio  Mas  Headaches.  .  .  .  Dr.  Ilrniniii  \.  Iliimlrsrii 
This  is  a  W  all-\\  reeker   Miiiiro  l.i-iif 

VixsluMi  llt'lllllV 

Oii  Willi  ihe  Parlies.  Off  Willi  llie  Poiiinls   Diiun  ('.rinirll  \i,riiiiiii 

The  ( lliaiige-Aboiil  (losliinie   If  illulii  (..,slirniin 

SIOO  .Spring  and  .Suiniiier  Wardrobe   If  illnlii  C.ushinait 

Garden  of  .Suniiiier  Hats  ff  ilhelii  (lusliman 

Easy-to-Make  (>ollons  \«r«  O'lA-ary 

Spriiig-liilo-Suminer  Kadianec   Danii  Croieell  iSorman 

F«»«»fl  »n<l  ll«»iii«>iiiiikiiiti 

Corinne  (irilTilh's  CJcKikbwjk  

Let  Us  lie  (iay  Ann  liatchelder 

Line  a  Day  Ann  Itatrhrlilrr 

Make-Easy  Kilelien  Cliulys  I'iiImt 

W  hal's  for  Dinner  Miiriaii  I  niry 

Best  1  Ever  \te  Mrs.  E.  M  .  I'.nsmbriink 

W  orking-.Molber  Specials   Ruth  \iiitnp, 

Coiiversalioii  Piece  Ruth  Mills  Tetiiiuv 


HI 
tJ 
Ui 
'.O 
'.I 


I  I 
I  I 

.Ti 

Wl 
Vi 

(M 
TO 
l(>l 
!(.') 


I 

Ui 

2.'> 
Id 

•\n 
.»(» 

71 
1(»2 
l.l.'i 
212 


.% 
.58 
6() 
62 
6t 
128 


33 
66 
72 
% 
120 
I.S6 
174 
202 


Ar4'liil«'«'<ur«'.  4»»r<l«'niii|i  nnA  liiH'ritir  ll«'<-«»r»(i<»n 

Suflield  Farmhouse  ...   Rirluinl  I'ratt  if 

Modern  for  Country  Living   H.  T.  if  iUiams   I  I  \ 

Young  Moiiie-Biiilders   Marparel  Dnriilson  178 

Back-Yard  Transfoniialiou  Riiluinl  I'nitt  210 

Jesse  Stuart  88  •  Aline  Hughes  112  •  Marie  Lang  116  •  Marion 
Lineaweaver  122  •  Georgie  Slarbiick  (^albrailh  152  •  Helen  .S. 
W  hite  •    Elizabeth-Ellen  Long  198    •    Frances  Eleonore  Sclilii- 

neger  207  •  Dan  (r.  Hoffman  211 

Cover  I'iiolofiraph  by  Wilhi'ln  4'uMhmnii 


CHANGE  OF  ADDRESS 

send  ,.ur  n.w  addr.«  at  Last  30  day.  b.for.  Ihe  dat.  of  th.  I..u.  «lth  which  It  I.  I.  tak.  Addr«.: 
LADIES'  HOIVIE  JOURNAL,  INDEPENDENCE  SQUARE.  PHILADELPHIA  S.  PA. 

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Post.  Country  Gentleman.  Jack  and  Jill,  and  Holiday. 


EXPOSE 

your  own 

natural 

beauty 


13 


FOU  N  DATION 


i 


■^U  N  0  A'  ■ 


This  is  the  new  makeup  that's 
cream-misted  to  go  on 
smoother  — last  longer— make 
you  look  prettier  from 
the  moment  you  put  it  on. 

sheer  Beauty  Li(;uid  foundation 
/shades,  1.25  and  1.75  iplus  lax) 


Jct,t/x 


Completel/  New- Completel/ Automatic 


with  HANDLES  IN  \1  GAY 
DECORATOR  COLORS ! 


"/  chose  Forest  Green  handles  for  my  neii  Caloric 
Gas  Ranfie  to  set  off  niv  rrtl  t<ihinets.  And^  Just 
iinii^ine.  if  I  erer  n  ilcdinilr  I  laii  get  a  new  set  of 
handles  tu  harmonize  u  nit  nt\  neii  scheme.^'' 


"I'm  so  prooil  "/  \  n,  II  l.iinii\  /line  kitchen:  and 
so  ^lad  I  could  III-  lit  iii\  line  Caloric  Gas  Ranfie 
u  ith  it.  Those  loielv  Snnhiirst  Yellow  handles  were 
just  the  loin  h  I  needed." 


From  time-tested  traditionals  to  lively,  modern  pastels,  there's  a  Caloric 
Handle  in  just  the  right  color  to  harmonize  with  every  kitchen  color  scheme. 


Now.  Caloric  adds  the  ftnul  touch  to  mod- 
ern kitchen  styhng.  \  on  simply  select 
the  handle  color  you  want  from  Caloric's 
twelve  most  wanted  colors;  your  dealer 
wWX  snap  them  on,  and  there  is  your 
personal  Caloric  Gas  Range,  color-styled 
for  vour  very  own  kitchen! 

See  all  of  the  features  of  the  wonderful 
new  195.?  L  Itrainatic  Caloric — the  Gas 
Range  that  sets  the  world's  standard  for 
heautv.  quality  and  automatic  perform- 
ance. Dealers  are  listed  in  vour  classified 
telephone  book  under  "Ranges."  All 
models  are  available  for  "Pyrofax"  Bot- 
tled Gas  or  other  LP-Gases. 

Chrome-tone  handles  furnished  as  standard 
equipment;  other  colors  at  slight  extra  cost. 


MODERN,  STREAMLINED  BACKGUARD 


Th. 


iuil\,  IH'W  *'r[iririic\  ill  the  new 
Oloek  (loiilrni  and  Tinier  are 
Lit  zone,  are  eas>'  to  reaeh, 
roviile  increased  eir- 


lere  s  new  I 
baekjiuard  <le' 
elevated  oiil  iil  the  h 
easy  to  set.  Larger  \ent 
dilation  and  cooler  cooking'. 

See  the  heautifiiL  new  color-styled  Caloric — 
the  jias  range  that  li;;hls  without  matches,  cooks 
while  you're  out.  iiiake>  i-<)llee  while  \oii  sleep, 
kIm's  yon  measured  heal  with  famous  IriSet 
Hurners  ...  and  dozens  of  other  e\clu>i\  e  features. 

CALORIC    STOVE    CORP.,    TOPTON,  PA. 


fiAK/G£S  TO  /^e£P  CL£AA/ 


April,  1953 


OurJ?edders 


Ikan«l4>lii>n  IN'ft'iidt'r 

FUhI,  Michigan 

Dear  lidilor:  It's  spring  again!  My 
bal)>-  daughter  and  I  learned  that  this 
morning  as  we  went  for  a  walk.  How 
dill  we  learn  it?  By  seeing  the  dande- 
lions sprinkled  over  the  green  carpets 
in  front  of  our  neighbors'  houses. 

fheryl  picked  today  until  her  chubby 
little  hands  were  full. 

Dandelions  are  the  only  type  of 
flower  that  both  city  and  country  child 
can  enjoy  without  being  cautioned 
"not  to  touch."  They  are  really  the 
children's  flowers. 

I  think  I'll  always  be  grateful  for  the 
little  things  our  baby  daughter  has 
taught  me  to  see  again  through  a 
cliild's  eyes.  Sincerely  yours, 

RUTH  E.  BEAGAN 

lk»  K<'si«l<>r!«  Agrot'? 

Free  port,  Texas 
Dear  Mrs.  (.iouhl :  I  am  a  public- 
school  principal  and  I  am  very  inter- 
ested in  the  field  of  public  relations. 
.\t  >  ()nr  con\cnience.  I  would  appreci- 
iiti-  an  aii^w  i  r  to  the  following  question: 
What  do  \-ou  consider  to  be  the  most 
important  thing  that  made  the  Jour- 
nal's relationship  with  the  public  the 
success  that  it  is?  Sincerely, 

GLEN  MORGAN,  Principal 

►  We're  convinced  ironieii,  like  men, 
are  [>eof>le.  ED. 

itur  41  wn  .>l»lh<'r- 
nntl-llaii:fhl<>r  >»«'ri«>N 

Gandhi  Nugar,  Ailyar 
Madras,  India 

Dear  Fililnrs:  May  I  introduce  my- 
self to  as  one  of  your  most  avid 
readers  in  I  udia  ? 

For  a  limg  tinu-  I  have  been  follow- 
ing \'oui  Jin  RN.M..  and  my  favorites 
ha\c  bri-ii  Tell  Me  Doctor  and  Making 
Marriage  Work.  Marriage  and  its 
attendant  problems  are  quite  different 
here.  However,  the  fundamental  issues 
for  a  successful  marriage  are  the  same, 
whether  you  are  on  the  equator  or  at 
the  South  Pole. 

Another  feature  which  pleased  me 
\ery  much  was  your  Baby's  First 
Year.  In  this  I  am  not  alone.  My 


Journal  girls  —  India. 

daughter  Gowri  (1  j-ear,  9  months)  is 
also  very  much  interested  in  this  series, 
which  she  insists  on  tearing  up  (a  sign 
of  great  pleasure)  after  saying,  "Pretty 
baby,  pretty  baby!" — of  course  in 
"Tamil,"  my  mother  tongue. 

Yours  very  truly, 
MRS.  A.  RAMACHANDRAN 

►  Marriage  issue  tve  particularly 
like  is  Goivri.  ED. 


E<lu«*alion  for  Handit'appotI 

Bowling  Green,  Ohio 
Dear  Sir:  Since  I  am  a  young  man 
handicapped  by  being  a  spastic  and 
having  a  speech  defect,  the  article  en- 
titled Triumph  of  Love  in  your  Janu- 
ary issue  interested  me  greatly. 

Every  interested  citizen  should  con- 
tact both  state  and  national  senators 
and  representatives  to  urge  enactment 
of  legislation  to  produce  an  adequate 
educational  program  for  the  handi- 
capped. 

There  should  be  a  training  cen- 
ter for  teachers  in  the  field  of 
special  education  in  every  state,  and 
the  standards  should  be  high.  Careful 
selection  of  teachers  for  handicapped 
children  is  highly  important. 

Won't  you  rearlers  think  about  this 
problem  and  do  something  about 
special  education  in  your  own  locality? 

Sincerely, 
JOHN  C.  BEACH 

Little  Sheik 

FJkins  Park.  Pennsylvania 
Dear  Editors:  Like  all  new  parents, 
we  have  taken  many  pictures  of  our 


baby  age  three  months,  but  are  par- 
ticularly proud  of  this  one  of  him. 

Sincerely, 
MRS.  FRED  B.'SHIPPEE 

From  l*<'«»|il<'  You  Know 

Chicago,  Illinois 
Dear  Editor:  Thought  you  would  be 
interested  in  reading  the  letter  I  re- 
ceived from  the  mother  of  Lt.  David  R. 
Hughes  after  I  had  reatl  his  touching 
story  of  Shank's  Bootees  (which  ap- 
peared in  your  last  July  Journal)  dur- 
ing Breakfast  Club's  Memory  Time. 

A  copy  of  her  letter  is  attached,  and 
I  plan  to  follow  her  suggestion  of  ask- 
ing our  Breakfast  Clubbers  to  pray 
for  the  fighting  men  in  Korea  during 
our  Moment  of  Silent  Prayer. 

Sincerely, 
.,  DON  McNEILL 

Denver,  Colorado 
Dear  Don  McNeill:  My  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  as  Johnny  Desmond  fin- 
ished with  his  beautiful  song,  and  I 
remembered  the  words  of  my  son 
David  who  wrote  the  story.  He  said, 
in  one  letter: 

"I  wish  that  everyone:  all  men  in 
high  places,  and  all  men  in  low  places; 
yes,  every  old  man  and  every  young 
girl;  every  golfer  and  every  student; 
every  dowager— could  be  at  one  time, 
even  for  an  hour,  a  part  of  that  line. 

"  I  do  not  wish  for  the  destruction  of 
any — but  only  that  they  might  see,  and 
know,  and  feel  what  war  is."  And  I 
wished,  as  I  have  so  many  times  these 
past  tw^o  years,  that  you  might  ask, 
(Continued  on  Page  6) 


I     \    l>    I    I     >         II    o    \|  K 


J    <(    I     II    \    \  I 


"V6ii  no/er  had  H:50  cfe^y^/^ 


U&/et  before  Tfde 
was  rfc  possible  to  get 

your^mily  wash  so  cfean  [ 


KOTHIKC  aSB 
nu  WASH  AS  eiEAN 

AS  r/ cfe 

y^t  IS  so  mild 

-/w  heavy-dufysoap,  no  other  leading  dekrgeid  made! 


NEVER  BEFORE 

such  cleaning  power! 

When  science  brought  you  Tide,  it  gave  you 
the  greatest  cleaning  power  the  world  had 
ever  known... a  cleaning  power  that  got 
clothes  cleaner  than  any  other  washing 
product  you  had  ever  used!  Yes.  Ma'am!  Till 
Tide  came  along,  you  never  had  it  so  clean! 


MILD!  M  SAFE! 

And  now  Tide  combines  that  terrific  cleaning 
power  with  amazing  mildness . . .  the  first 
and  only  product  to  give  you  so  much 
cleaning  power  with  so  much  mildness.  Tide 
is  so  safe  for  all  wash  colors!  So  kind 
to  hands  . . .  more  so  than  any  other  leading 
detergent— even  the  kind  made  especially 
for  fine  fabrics  and  dishwashing! 


NO  BLEACHING!  NO  BLUING! 

Except  for  stubborn  stains,  no  need  to  bleach! 
No  need  to  blue!  All  by  itself,  Tide  gets 
clothes  dazzling  WHITE.  Next  washday, 
rinse  out  a  Tide  wash  — see  for  yourself! 


6 


LADIES'  no 


ME  JOURNAL 


April,  1953 


"I  wish  Laura  would  clean  her  windows  with 
Windex  Spray — /  cant  see  who  she  has  in  for  bridge  today!" 


It  always  pays  to  keep  Windex  Spray  on  hand!  It's  the 
quickest,  easiest,  thriftiest  way  to  make  windows,  mirrors, 
all  glass  surfaces  simply  sparkle.  Whishl  Spray  it  on. 
Swish!  Wipe  it  off  h'ghtly.  Leaves  no  waxy  dust  to  clean 
afterwards  like  some  cleaners.  No  pail,  no  sponge,  no 
roughened  hands.  Costs  so  little — only  a  fraction  of  a  cent 
a  window,  even  less  in  the  big  moneysaving  20-oz.  bottle. 
Goes  so  far!  Get  Windex  Spray  today  at  your  grocery, 
drug  or  hardware  store.  Also  sold  in  Canada. 


So  quick,  taty,  thrifty  it  oultellt  all  olh«r  glatt  cleaner*  comhintdl 


PRODUCTS  OF  THE  DRACKCTT  COMPANY,  CINCINNATI,  OHIO 


"77/ pick  up  the  rest  later.  I  just  remembered 
this  is  the  day  of  the  week  I  put  Drano  in  all  the  drains!" 


Better  to  get  the  groceries  later— than  to  leave 
dangerous  sewer  germs  lurking  in  every  drain.  No 
liquid  disinfectant  can  budge  the  muck  they  breed 
in.  It  takes  Drano  to  unclog  drains  and  keep  them 
running  free  and  clear.  Use  Drano  once  a  week — 
every  week.  Won't  harm  septic  tanks.  Makes  them 
work  better.  Get  Drano  today,  at  your  grocery, 
drug  or  hardware  store.  Also  available  in  Canada. 


There's  nothing  like  it...  to  keep  drains  free-running. 


(Continued  from  Page  4) 
in  that  moment  of  silent  prayer,  that  your 
vast  audience  

"Each  in  his  own  words 

Each  in  his  own  way 

For  our  fighting  men  in  Korea 

Bow  your  heads  and  let  us  pray." 

Prayers  are  answered — and  those  men 
deserve  so  much.  Sincerely, 

HELEN  HUGHES 

►  Lieutenant  Hughes''  moving  new  storv. 
Death  of  a  Soldier,  appears  in  this 
month's  JOURNAL.  ED. 

Shelhyville,  Tennessee 
Dear    Madam:  Mother-and-daughter 
sets  are  always  sweet,  but  what  about 
grandmother,  who  in  many  cases  makes 
the  dresses?  Why  leave  her  out? 

I  am  enclosing  a  snapshot  of  grand- 
mother (Mrs.  J.  W,  Sellars),  mother  and 


Challenge  to  cover-artist. 

daughter  (Lee  Anne).  We  have  enjoyed 
our  purple  tissue-chambray  dresses  with 
the  orchid  yokes  and  rhinestone  buttons. 

Yours  truly, 
MRS.  JACK  M.  PALMER 

FirNlhnnd  Itoport 

West  Chester,  Pennsylvania 
Dear  Editors:  As  a  refugee  from  behind 
the  Iron  Curtain,  with  firsthand  knowl- 
edge of  communism,  allow  me  to  make  one 
single  comment  to  Dorothy  Thompson's 
article  on  The  American  Communist  in 
the  December  Journ.\l. 

I  should  like  to  point  out  the  wide  gap 
that  exists  between  the  "American  com- 
munist" who  believes  he  is  simply  follow- 
ing his  own  "modern  and  radical"  ideas, 
and  the  real,  Russian-born,  diehard  ones, 
who  entice  him  and  are  careful  to  keep 
him  in  his  belief  that  there  is  such  a  thing 
as  "American  communist."  Unfortunately, 
there  is  not — for  the  moment  anybody 
joins  the  party,  he  becomes  subject  to  the 
dark,  vile  forces  of  Russian  imperialism 
(the  real  force  behind  the  so-called  "inter- 
nationalism ") ,  and  he  does  not  even  dream 
of  what  all  he  is  letting  himself,  and  his — 
now — free  country,  in  for.  Nor  can  he  be 
blamed  for  his  ignorance;  he  never  saw 
communism  "in  operation,"  and  so  can- 
not be  expected  to  realize  what  it  really 
means.  Sincerely. 

N.^ME  WITHHELD 

Workini!  .>l»rriiit!<' 

Biiena  Vista,  California 
Dear  Editors:   V'our   regular  feature. 
Making  Marriage  Work,  is,  in  my  opinion, 
the  best  contribution  that  the  J()Urn.\l 
has  yet  made  to  happy  home  life. 

My  husband  is  a  nt-urotic.  After  eight 
years  of  luetic  struggle,  I  at  last  U'arncd 
to  make  adjustments  that  were  necessary 
in  the  understanding  and  help  of  such  an 
individual.  During  the  past  two  years, 
following  much  the  same  pattern  as  Doc- 
tor Adams  advised,  my  husband  and  I 
have  come  into  a  new  and  peaceful  haven 
of  understanding  and  love. 

If  only  young  people — and  older  ones 
too — could  be  made  to  see  that  marriage, 
to  succeed,  is  work.  And  a  successful  mar- 
riage is  so  well  worth  working  for  ! 

Sincerely, 
MRS.  JOHN  STEVENS 
(Continued  on  Page  S} 


\  \ 


 d 


BATHROOM 
ACCESSORIES 


YOUR 


I'    V    I)     I  I 


"     '>     M     I         J  I      H     N     \  I 


see  what  happens 

when  you  add  die  Gold  Seal 
Na  irn  Inlaid  Linoleum  that  nuihcs 
^  roo?ns  look  bi^^cr, . . 


With  just  a  plain  floor  even  this  atli  aciivc  kiiehcn 
looks  narrow  and  crowded.  See  the  diirercnce 
when  colorful  "Jackstraw"  linoleum  is  added. 


4 


Now  look  at  another  color  combination:  Cocoa 
floor  with  green  cotton  crepe  curtains  in  the  same 

wondcr-udrkin'j  "l.i^l-,-"  ' 


"Jockstrow"  pattern  shown  No.  K658.  Curtoinj  by  Riverdale.  VinylTop  No.  3000.  Congowoll  No.  W36. 


There's  more  to  "Jackstraw"  than  the 
airy  feeling  of  space  it  gives  your  kitchen.  It's 
a  quaUty  inlaid  linoleum,  the  colors  go  all  the 
way  through  to  the  backing.  And  what  wonder- 
working colors  they  are!  You  can  key  to  any  of 
them — change  your  color  schemes  again  and 


again — without  ever  changing  your  long-wearing 
floor.  Only  Gold  Seal  gives  you  a  design  like  this 
— and  Gold  Seal  is  the  only  linoleum  that  guaran- 
tees satisfaction — or  your  money  back.  Yet  the 
"Jackstraw""  linoleum  itself  for  a  6'  x  9'  kitchen 
handsome  as  this  one  costs  only  about  $17.00. 


"Jackstraw"  also  come--  :  lay-it- 

yourself  tile,  so  precise!)  cut  liiai  \ou  scarcely  can 
see  the  hairline  where  the  tiles  join. 


FLOORS  and  WALLS 

CONGOLEU  M-NAI  RN  INC.,  KEARNY,  N.J.  ©1953 


L   A    D    I    K    S  ' 


II    O    M  F. 


O    U    K    N    A  I. 


April,  J 95.3 


Trust  Dorothy  Gray 

for  a  younger-looking 

over- 30  Complexion 


KEEP  YOUR  BIRTHDAYS  FROM  SHOWING  .  .  . 
with  the  proved  Cellogen  Hormone  preparations  of  Dorothy  Gray. 
In  case  alter  case,  amazingly  young-looking  women 
ave  proved  what  science  knows — that  Cellogen  Hormone  cream 
and  lotion  quickly  help  your  skin  to  a  youthfully 

dewy  look  .  .  .  and  help  counteract  signs  of  age. 
Try  them — and  experience  a  thrilling  new  self-confidence,  too. 


CELLOGEN  HORMONE  CREAM  helps  "cushion" 
skin  against  lines  and  wrinkles — keeps  it  soft,  fresh,  supple. 
Contains  10,000  LU.'s  per  ounce  of  Natural  Estrogenic 
Hormones,  plus  extra-rich  emollients!  .f.S.SO  and  .|.5.00. 

CELLOGEN  HORMONE  LOTION  works  like  the  Cream, 
is  for  those  who  prefer  a  lotion.  Ideal  overnight — 
and  under  make-up!  $5.00. 

HORMONE  HAND  CREAM  is  vanishing— 'heX^s 
keep  hands  looking  young!  $2.00.  (Prices  plus  tax) 

Spectacular  Remnldine — new  Contour  Facial  (with  or  without  hormones)  hy  Dorothy  Gray- 
use  it  in  conjunction  with  your  favorite  Dorothy  Gray  Emollirnt  Cream  or  Lotion. 


(ConlitiKfd  from  Page  6} 

"He's  Too  Fill  Utr  Mt-V 

Fliiladfl phiu.  Pennsylvania 
Dear  F.ilitors :  A  numljer  of  my  liicnds, 
in  commenting  upon  the  yuccn  Xarriman 
story,  exliibit  a  violent  reaction  to  Faiouk. 
?  \\'hy.  Iiecaiisc  he      i^o  lat. 
Aiilre  pays,  autre  nnieiirs! 

Yours. 

ABW 


I'rinfN  Yoii  Half  In  Wash  Awa^- 

Ri'eersi'.le.  California 
Dear  lidilors:  We  enjoy  httle  ghmpses 

into  the  Hves  of  some  readers  via  "Letters 

to  the  Editors." 

Mrs.  Gajda's  pictiu'e  of  her  baliy's  first 

visit  to  tlie  beach  inspired  us  to  send  one 


Favorite  interior  decorator. 

of  our  favorite  pictures  of  our  grand- 
daughter. Linda  .Ann  Sweeney,  of  Ken- 
sington. Maryhmd.  Her  mother,  Mrs.  J. 
D.  Sweeney,  added  a  footnote.  "Those 
wet  spots  were  not  jam,  l)ut  wiped  off 

easily."  „■  i 

Snicerelv, 

MR.  and  MRS.  E.  B.  ADAMS 


4|ue<'n*s  Sland-in 

Rudgwick.  England 

Dear  Bruce  and  Beatrice:  The  London 
streets  are  already  a  jiniHli-  of  ■.truts  and 
planks,  as  the  seating  arrangements  for 
the  coronation  take  shape. 

Early  risers  going  about  their  business 
come  unexpeeti  clly  on  a  ghost  coronation 
procession  in  the  gray  still  hours  of  dawn, 
as  some  [)art  of  the  grand  procession  does  a 
little  rehearsing. 

Once  I  looked  from  my  window  and  saw 
a  glass  coach  go  by,  complete  with  all  the 
white  horses,  and  dapper  yoimg  guards- 
men, very  busy,  were  pf)sting  about  with 
pieces  of  chalk  making  cry|)tic  marks  on 
l)avements  and  on  islands  that  must  be 
miioved  for  the  great  day. 

The  greater  part  of  the  abbey  is  closed 
from  now  on.  Distant  mulirted  hammering 
can  be  heard  behind  the  canvas  screens,  as 
thotigh  Snow  White's  se\-en  dwarfs  were 
at  work  there. 

Recently  a  pretty  girl  from  one  of  the 
big  dress  shops  put  on  the  (Jueen's  veh-et 
and  miniver  and  a  golden  crown  and  spent 
the  day  as  understufly  while  electricians 
battled  witli,  and  solved,  the  problems  of 
lighting.  That  must  be  quite  something  for 
her  to  remember. 

Meanwhile,  heartthrobs  from  new  peers 
in  the  Personal  Advertisement  columns. 
They  have  no  coronets. 

Even  old  ])eers  have,  in  these  hard  times, 
often  sold  the  ones  they  had,  and  even  a 
■iiher  gilt  one  costs  around  two  hundred 
poinids.  There  are  also  counter  ads,  from 
persons  possessing  these  things,  and  out  to 
make  a  nice  profit  of  the  business.  It  is 
sad  how  much,  in  this  life,  all  works  back 
to  finance. 

With  one  accord,  however,  we  all  pray 

for  fine  weather.  Sunshine,  and  a  young 

and  pretty  Queen  who  really  is  like  what 

we  all  Cti  us  dreamed  in  our  childhood  a 

Queen  ought  to  be — and  what  more  can 

a  nation  want  ?  ,        ^  ,, 

Love  to  you  all, 

DOROTHY  BLACK 


CoEstipation 
worries  are 


over  I 


Milk  of  Magnesia 
provides  better  relief - 
more  complete  relief 

than  single-purpose  laxatives  which 
have  no  effect  on  the  acid  indigestion 
that  usually  accompanies  constipation. 
For  Milk  of  Magnesia  relieves  both 
conditions.  Two  to  four  tablespoon- 
fuls  taken  at  bedtime  work  leisurely 
—  without  embarrassing  urgency.  So, 
when  morning  comes,  you  start  the 
day  feeling  wonderful.  Get  Phillips' 
Milk  of  Magnesia  — the  best  laxative 
money  can  buy.  , 


PHIIUPS' 

MILK  OF  MAGNESIA 


Liquid  or  Tablets 


The  convenient 

4-ounce  size. . 
The  economical 

12-ounce  size  , . 
The  moneysaving 
26-ounce  size, . . 
Also  available  in  tablet  form 
30  tablets  ..25*; 


25 

50f^ 
75^ 


BE  A  01       ()\  A  l!|  |)(. 


r  I 


CORONATION  RED 

7. 9  5  -  8. 9  5' 


Division:  Consolidated  National  Shoe  Corp.,  288  A  Street,  Boston,  Massachusetts  .  .  .  Also  manufactured  in  Canada  by  Gale  Brothers,  Ltd.,  Quebec 


♦Oihfr  sI)1m  J5.9S  and  J6.95.  prices  slighilj  higher  Denrer  < 

Fly  to  the  Coronation  —  only  14  hours  from  the  United  States  by  Pan  American  Clipper 


1j    A    u     1     r>     C5  ri     w     i*a  j     v/     u     x\     ii  /\ 


I? 

myl^oiyBath 

its  apleasiire...  purepleasiu'er 


It's  delightful — the  way  silky  Ivory  suds  soothe  you 
as  you  soak!  They're  so  pure  ...  so  mild  . . .  gentle  as 
a  kiss.  More  doctors,  you  know,  advise  Ivory  for  skin 
care  than  any  other  soap!  And  there's  extra  pleasure 
in  that  clean,  fresh-smelling  Ivory  lather.  It  leaves 
you  full  of  pep  .  .  .  right  in  step! 

Yet  wonderful  Ivory  costs  you  less! 

Too  good  to  be  true?  It  is  true!  Mild  Ivory  . . .  sudsy 
Ivory  .  .  .  wonderful  Ivory  .  .  .  gives  you  more  soap 
for  your  money  than  any  other  leading  bath  soap! 


^ot  pure  it  Hoate 


77?^  whole  family  agrees  on  Ivory!' 


1 1 


LADIES'  HOME 


I  1 


J 


Uvulrh-v  itluvhinur  HhuIiI 


'Slioii  (,rrv\"  iniiiiiliiil  /<>  Kiihiinl  A  llnJtu/i.  I  hrtr  grralrr  uinii  grrw 
hrrril  m  U  rxlnii  (.rrriiliiiitl  iinil  <m  liiiljin  Ithinil,  nnJ  iiinlrr  on  ihr  Al- 
liiiilir  uHi%i  jrnm  Am  Jrttry  to  \iirlh  (lurmUmt.  Oriffinnl  ntiuaUnl  I'/'xlJ" 
may  Itr  inirrhn%nl  nnit  fur  S.Vi  /rum  ('Jmrlr%  Srt\lrr,  I'hihuirlphia. 


THERE  is  just  no  dignity  in  doinn  diapers ! " 
This  is  the  feeling,  often  expressed  in  one 
way  or  another,  of  many  young  mothers.  Or, 
"Oh,  it's  not  that  we  mind  keeping  house  and 
family,"  they  say,  "but  it's  so  constant." 

Well,  it  is  steady  work  and  the  pay  in  love  and 
prestige  is  sometimes  not  what  it  should  be.  It 
would  save  young  mothers  many  tears  if  the  pro- 
fession of  housewifery  were  always  held  in  the 
same  esteem  as  other  careers.  Since  it  is  not,  in 
some  minds,  wives  themselves  must  do  what  they 
can  to  dignify  their  duties.  Some  turn  to  courses 
of  study,  as  surcease  from  the  day's  diapers,  or 
to  politics  or  interest  in  schools. 

Many  turn  to  the  Red  Cross  to  learn  how  to 
meet  some  of  the  more  difficult  challenges  of 
homemaking. 

The  more  dramatic  services  of  the  Red 
Cross— first  aid  and  disaster  relief,  blood  pro- 
curement and  work  with  the  armed  forces— 
often  overshadow  its  many  other  continuing  ac- 
tivities. Among  these  are  the  Red  Cross  home- 
nursing  courses,  "Home  Care  of  the  Sick  "  and 
"Mother  and  Baby  Care."  Instruction  in  these 
courses  often  gives  a  feeling  of  "dignity  "—the 
self-assurance  one  needs  in  the  performance  of 
the  world's  most  important  job. 

Through  your  help  and  contributions,  the  Red 
Cross  performs  a  great  range  of  services,  world- 
wide. The  home-nursing  courses  are  among  those 
that  can  mean  a  great  deal  to  you  and  your 
family  directly.  Why  not  inquire  about  them  in 
your  community?  Their  value  is  not  limited  to 
women  with  families;  of  the  more  than  250,000 
certificates  awarded  in  one  or  both  courses  last 
year,  55  per  cent  went  to  school  and  college 
students.  The  certificates  are  not  a  .guaranty 
that  diaper  changing  will  be  dignified,  but  those 
who  earn  them  usually  have  a  better  idea  of  the 
babv's  dignity.  thk  km> 


Thv  Limhs 

of  yuhlh'-S0'ho0^l  #sV/ff#*#f/fOfi 


\\\  article  \\hi(  li  I  rfcciitl)  wroti-  and  [luijlishcd  in  llic  Joi  knaI„ 
Do  Our  Schools  Need  an  .S(JS?,  has  hrought  many  letters  to  my  desk,  pro  and 
con — so  many,  and  raisinj;  .so  many  (|u«'slions  and  issues,  thai  it  i»wipossible 
to  answer  each  of  them  separately  and  in  detail,  as  nearly  all  deserve.  Those  who 
in  general  agree  witli  I  criticized  sometimes  criticize,  in  turn,  omissions 

or  emphases.  These,  and  especially  the  many  teachers  who  have  written  me, 
have  enlarged  my  own  view,  and  started  new  trains  of  thought,  some  of  which 
are  reflected  in  this  article. 

Some  writers  have  misunderstood  my  intent,  believing  my  remarks  directed 
against  public  education  as  such,  and  against  teachers  in  particular. 

This  was  not  my  intent.  I  believe  in  publicly  supported  primary  and  secondary 
education.  And  I  do  not  attribute  such  shortcomings  as  seem  apparent  to  the  rank 
and  file  of  working  teachers. 

Nor  can  anyone  in  the  course  of  an  article  or  two  make  a  comprehensive  and 
fair  survey  of  the  w  hole  of  American  public  education.  For  one  thing,  it  is  not  a 
uniform  "whole."  It  varies  between  various  states  and  communities  and  even  be- 
tween schools  in  the  same  community.  It  is  subject  to  the  policies  and  personalities 
of  school  boards  and  principals,  and  to  pressures  from  organized  community 
groups,  some  of  them  manipulated  by  well-meaning  but  bigoted  persons  against 
whom  the  existing  public-school  system  needs  defense. 

Inherent  in  the  problem  of  public  education,  as  a  number  of  correspondents 
have  pointed  out,  is  its  enormous  extension  during  the  past  few  decades.  Forty 
years  ago  only  a  fraction  of  our  youth,  and  those  most  (Continued  on  Page  N) 


953 
•  RED  CROSS 
FUND 


Extculire  Edilor.  Mary  Bass  •  MaiiaginR  EJiltn,  L.aura  L.OU  Brookman 
IT  u    I,        NJ  r  Kahler  Bernardine  Kielty,  Ann  Batchelder,  WUhela  Cushman.  W  illiam  E.  Fink.  Richard  Pratt.  HenrietU  ^^urdock.  Lx>uella  G.  Shouer.  Mary  L.ea  Page, 

Associale  Editors:  Hugh  '^'^'^p^^.jJ^J.o^y;,!  Norman.  Margaret  Davidson.  Nora  O'l^ary.  Barbara  Benson.  Glenn  Matthew  White.  Donald  Stuart.  Ruth  Imler 

Cotdribulint  Editors:  Gladys  Taber.  Louise  Paine  Benjamin.  Gladys  Denny  Shultz.  Margaret  Hickcy.  Betty  Kidd.  Ruth  Ntills  Jeague 

  ...       .  ,      ,  .  „  wimpr  Charlotte  Johnson.  Ruth  .Mary  F^ck.\rd.  Ruth  Shapley  MattTiews.  Alice  Conkling.  Joseph  Di  Pietro,  Anne  Einselen,  Betty  Niles  Gray, 

EdilOTiol  Associates:  John  wemer.  Elizatx  th  (  ..xnsch.  Nancy  Crawford.  Cynthia  McAd.« 

•  /    /  Editors'  Charles  Stryker  Ingerman.  Victoria  Harris.  Rosemary  Jones.  Nelle  Keys  Perry.  Peter  Briggs.  .Mice  Kastberg.  Adrina  Casparian, 
Asstslani  Virginia  Price.  Marion  Wilson.  Dorothy  Anne  Robinson.  Jean  Todd  Freeman.  Jesse  Raymond  Fahni 

.         .      ,  .  jof  Stowell  Cullen.  Dolores  Knapp.  Patricia  Martin.  Aileen  Dowd.  June  Schwartz.  Gretchen  Wehler.  Babette  Brimberg 
Editorial  Asststaius .  i^ee  ovu  » 


LADIES'       TI    O    M    E  JOURNAL 


April,  1953] 


Look  what  a  difference  a 


Browning  is  better- 
golden  and  even! 


Look  at  the  cake  layer  on  the  left,  below  — 
delicately  golden  with  a  tender  crust.  Compare 
it  with  the  tough,  over-brown  crust  on  the  layer 
at  the  right. 

What  caused  this  difference?  Don't  blame 
the  recipe  or  the  oven!  Both  layers  were  made 
from  the  same  bowl  of  batter,  baked  in  the 
same  oven  at  exactly  the  same  time. 

But  notice  the  pans  — there's  the  difference! 
The  pan  responsible  for  the  failure  is  dark  and 


discolored  from  improper  care.  The  pan  thai 
baked  the  perfect  layer  was  shined  bright  with| 
an  S.O.S.  Magic  Scouring  Pad. 

Here's  what  happens  when  you  use  a  shiny 
pan:  shine  reflects  heat,  permitting  bottom,  top 
and  sides  of  layer  to  bake  evenly.  Darkened  pans 
absorb  and  hold  heat,  so  layers  brown  faster 
than  they  should.  Easy  way  to  avoid  failures: 
keep  your  aluminum  shining,  bright  and  clean, 
with  S.O.S.  There's  soap  right  in  each  pad! 


All  these  food  experts  say:  to  bake  a  better  cake  you  need  a  shiny  pamx 


Here  is  advice  from  home  economists 
of  famous  flour  companies: 

"In  our  years  of  making  cakes  we  have 
found  that  for  golden,  delicate  crust, 
shiny  pans  are  best." 

-BETTY  CROCKER  OF  GENERAL  MILLS 

"We  recommend  using  shiny  pans  with 
all  our  Pillsbury  Cake  Mixes.  In  our 


Ann  Pillsbury  Kitchen  we  find  shiny 
pans  result  in  more  uniform,  evenly 
browned  layer  and  loaf  cakes." 

-ANN  PILLSBURY 

Here  is  what  famous  range  manufac- 
turers say  in  their  instruction  books: 

"Use  smooth,  bright,  shiny  pans  .  .  . 
They  give  more  even  browning  ...  do 


not  absorb  heat  as  quickly  as  .  .  .  dark 
colored  pans."  —  CROSLEY 

"Warped,  unevenly  darkened,  oversize 
pans  cause  uneven  baking  and  brown- 
ing." -FRIGIDAIRE 

"Dark  utensils,  or  utensils  that  have  be- 
come darkened  with  use,  absorb  more 


heat  than  bright,  shiny  pans.  There-  I 
fore,  dark  pans  may  be  responsible  for 
over-browning  or  burned  foods." 

-GENERAL  ELECTRIC 


"Use  bright,  smooth,  standard-weight 
pans  for  best  baking  results  .  .  ." 

—  HOTPOINT 


Shine  your  cake  pans 


shinycake  pan  makes... 


layers  are  higher 


textare  is  lighter/ 


IfH  iK.nl  ...  ,1,..  iwo.ak..  iMy.TH  Mow 

were  hakci  f,,,,,,  tl.r  m,„„.  (h.wI  „f  UtU-r  in 
J.'";  '^•".w  li,„,.   ()„,.  i„  ^, 

"Ml  |..  rf.-.  llv.lM,,..J  Tlu.otlu.riH 

'"■•'^  V,  lann,,...!,  sl.runk.  M  .,(  Il„.  diffu-ull 
to  Iriist 

VVI.at  .-..  .  ounb,  for  llw  <l,(r.., ,.„.  Im  Iw.-,-,, 
I  Sirnply  ,1,,  ,,,k,.  ,,.„,!  On..  „,.„ 

flmRy.  .sln-;.k..(l,  ,lis,  ..lor.-M  'I  l„-  oil,,  ,  w..s 
■  '"i^;''!  Willi      shirdy  SOS  ,,,„l 


pan:  durkt-ru-d  pjinH  ron.  .  ntraU-  <>v«  ri  heat, 
«  auHing  tin- \w\U  x  to  f.ak.-  Uh>  fa,,t  on  tJw-  Uittorn 
and  hidi^,  'J  h..  ci  nti-r  of  thi-  Uiyt-r.  riw/inwhilf. 
baki^  hIowit.  xxm-t.  hiKh.-r,  H«%ult:  a  «ak.-  lay.  r 
with  a  hiiini)  in  th«-  middle,  flat  and  ovc.rUik.<J 
the  sid.-h  .  .  .  u  rake  only  half  pn  tty  and 
lialf  aM  k<mk1  (u  it  could  U-.  Su«  h  a  m*<il,*<, 
failure.  t«K.,  wh.-n  .S  f)  S  with  wwp  riKht  in  it 
shini-«  dull  aiuiiiiniiiM  like  new,  like  nviKie! 


^Iirnifii-It'ri,ii[yfc_ 


/arped  and  discolored  pans  result    Here  is  the  experience  of  a  /. 

gas  and  electric  company: 


leven  baking  and  browning.' 

-KELVINATOR 

ing  problems  (burning  on  bot- 
:  Black  pans  will  cause  this." 

-TAPPAN 

i  on  cake  baking:  Use  bright,  shiny 
Discolored  pans  cause  uneven 
^^ng'  -WESTINGHOUSE 


"Complaints  that  we  receive  regarding 
cake  failures  are  all  too  frequently  due 
to  dingy  or  discolored  pans,"  reports 
Marguerite  Fenner,  Director  of  Home 
Economics. 

-PACIFIC  GAS  4  ELECTRIC  CO. 


vith  S.O.S 


Magic 
Pads 


<^^fANs  AND  SH/Wfc  „ 


©  The  S.  0.  S.  G.n,,».nv.  CA/cay.,.  lllinoU.  f.  S.  A.  •  S.  O.  S.  Mfy.  C.  of  Canada.  L.J..  Taron.n.  On,. 


14  I,   A    D    I    K    S  '       II    O    M    F,       J    O    U    R    N   A    I,  April,  795.? 


EMILY  POST  SAYS:  These  new  Carvel 
Hall  kitchen  knives  are  as  ornamental  as 
they  are  useful.  Every  housewife  would 
be  proud  to  own  them. 


DUNCAN  MINES  SAYS:  Good  cooks  de- 
mand  good  knives  .  .  .  and  these  new 
Carvel  Hall  kitchen  knives  really  do  a  job 
.  .  .  are  the  best  I've  ever  used. 


At  Last!  Beautiful  Kitchen 
Knives  that  really  stay  sharp! 


You  't'e  been  waiting 
for  this  New  Carvel 
Hall  Kite  tie  n  Cutlery 

FOR  YOUR  KITCHEN  ...  or  for  the  most 
beautiful,  practical,  versatile  gift  in  the 
world.  New'  Carvel  Hall  Kitchen  Knives 
are  unconditionally  guaranteed.  Their 
Microned®  stainless  steel  (with  molyb- 


denum) blades  help  you  zip  through 
every  kitchen  carving  task  with  ease 
.  .  .  preparing  meats,  dicing  vegetables, 
paring  fruit,  slicing  bread.  L  nbelievably 
sharp — and  lovely  to  look  at.  Ivory 
lifetime  melamine  handles  trimmed 
with  sparkling  bolster  and  rivet.  See 
the  set  or  individual  knives  at  your 
favorite  jewelry,  gift,  department  or 
hardware  store.  Chas.  D.  Briddell,  Inc., 
Dept.  HJl,  Crisfield,  Maryland. 


TABLE  CUTLERY,  TOO! 


Six  Steak  Knives  !n  Jewel-Box 
Chest   $19.50 


Carver,  Slicer  and 
Jewel-Box  Chest  


Fork  in 
.._$26.00 


Six  Fruit  and  Cheese  Knives 
in  Aristocrat  Case   $15.00 


Sets  shown  with  Vogue  handle  styles.  Also  available  in  Classic  and  Regal  silver-over- 
laid handles.  Other  cutlery  sets  from  S6.50  to  8134.50.  Write  for  Free  Gift  Books  to, 
C.HKS.  D.  Briddell,  Inc.,  Dept.  HJl,  Crisfield,  M.^ryl.^nd. 


(Conlinned  from  Page  II) 
able  and  ambitious— or  from  able  and  am- 
bitious families— went  to  high  school.  Al- 
though self-selected,  they  doubtless 
represented  a  higher  average  of  native  in- 
telligence than  the  all-inclusive  classes  of 
today.  And,  since  instruction  must  be  some- 
how adjusted  to  average  capacities,  it  be- 
comes adjusted  downward. 

"Education,"  furthermore,  in  the  com- 
prehensive sense  of  the  word,  embraces  all 
that  one  learns  from  personal  and  vicarious 
experience.  The  child  is  educated  in  the 
first  place— and  most  decisively  for  the 
whole  of  his  future  life— by  the  emotional, 
spiritual  and  mental  atmosphere  of  his 
home.  He  is  educated— consciously  or  un- 
consciously—by his  companions,  and  by 
everything  he  sees,  hears  and  otherwise 
senses,  and  by  everything  that  he  does  or 
attempts  to  do. 

The  schools  alone  cannot,  therefore, 
even  under  the  most  favorable  conditions, 
"educate"  their  pupils.  They  can  only 
school  them. 

They  can  help  cultivate  in  them  such 
positive  attitudes  or  negative  inhibitions  as 
will  assure  sufficiently  co-operative  or  doc- 
ile behavior  without  which  no  schooling 
can  be  successful. 

They  can  teach  children  of  average  in- 
telligence the  basic  sub- 
jects without  which  they 
cannot  go  on  learning— 
or  efficiently  live— to 
read  and  know  what 
they  are  reading;  to 
wTite  in  correct  gram- 
matical form  and  spelling; 
to  use  numbers— to  add. 
subtract,  multiply  and 
divide,  and  deal  with 
fractions.  They  can  teach 
them  some  elementary 
facts  about  the  external 
world  and  especially  their 
own  country— its  geog- 
raphy and  chief  historical 
events  and  lines  of  devel- 
opment ;  about  their  own 
bodies— physiology;  and 
they  can  improve  the 
physical  bodies  of  their 
pupils  by  proper  train- 
ing, exercise  and  breath- 
ing. In  this  matter  we  are  way  behind  the 
findings  of  modern  physical  culture,  and 
have  not  even  caught  up  with  the  ancient 
Greeks ! 

The  public  schools,  even  in  the  ele- 
mentary grades,  can  appeal  to  and  refine 
the  pupil 's  aesthetic  and  ethical  sensibilities 
through  tested  precepts,  exposure  to  good 
literature,  music  and  art.  and  familiarity 
with  the  lives  of  a  few  great  men  and 
women— the  image  of  the  hero. 

These  things  the  public  schools  can  do, 
with  more  or  less  success,  depending  on  the 
co-operation  of  out-of-school  factors.  And 
this,  in  my  opinion,  is  about  all  they  can  do. 

I.\  trying  to  do  too  much:  to  develop  in- 
dividual self-expression  through  all  kinds 
of  projects;  in  being  pressed  to  assume 
many  of  the  functions  of  the  parents;  in 
trying  to  foresee  how  every  pupil  will 
eventually  earn  his  living  and  prepare  him 
for  that,  the  schools  are  failing  to  give  all 
children  the  knowledge  that  all  will  need 
no  matter  what  walks  of  life  they  may 
enter. 

More  than  ever  before  the  child's  likes 
or  dislikes  are  given  consideration.  The 
child's  dislike  of  one  or  another  of  such 
basic  subjects  is  of  course  an  individual 
problem  to  be  investigated  and  with  a  view 
to  overcoming  it,  but  never  with  the  con- 
cession that  the  child 's  dislikes  should  ex- 
empt him  from  learning  any  of  them.  The 
child,  without  experience  of  self-supporting 
life,  cannot  exercise  judgment.  His  likes  or 
dislikes  are  not  judgments,  not  even  judg- 
ments of  his  own  capacities. 

As  a  grade-,  high-school  and  college  stu- 
dent I  "hated"  mathematics.  But  I  had  to 
know  enough  mathematics  to  pass,  if  I 
were  to  get  any  diploma  or  an  A.B.  degree 
with  a  literature  major.  Because  I  had  to.  I 


WHAT'S  WRONG 
WITH  THE  SCHOOLS 

The  teacheri  are  afraid  of 
the  principals;  the  princi- 
pali  are  afraid  of  the  su- 
pervisors; the  supervisors 
are  afraid  of  the  school 
boards;  the  school  boards 
are  afraid  of  the  parents; 
the  parents  are  afraid  of 
the  children;  the  children— 
hong  it,  the  children  aren't 
afraid  of  anybody. 

—  From  the  letter  of  resignotion 
of  on  English  schoolteacher. 

'  y  f  f  y  y  y  'f 


did,  making  up  for  the  deficiency  of  my 
natural  talents  in  this  field  by  plodding  in- 
dustry. The  question  of  whether  mathe- 
matics would  ever  be  "useful"  in  the  fields 
to  which  my  talents,  such  as  they  were, 
were  likely  to  direct  me  never  entered  into 
consideration.  In  any  vocation  and  in  life 
itself,  one  is  certain  to  have  to  work  with 
numbers. 

Any  stenographer  must  know  how  to 
spell.  Otherwise  she  uses  too  much  time 
looking  up  words  in  a  dictionary  or  having 
to  rewrite  letters,  and  her  mechanical  speed 
is  canceled  out. 

\  ET  the  plain  fact  is  that  the  average 
high-school  graduate  is  rarely  proficient 
even  in  all  the  subjects  that  he  should  have 
learned  in  grade  school,  as  survey  after 
survey  has  revealed.  And  if  the  high- 
school  population  is  of  lower  average  intel- 
ligence due  to  its  expansion,  the  grade 
schools'  should  not  be,  unless  the  American 
mentality  has  declined,  for  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  backwoods  communities, 
grade-school  education  has  been  universal 
for  a  very  long  time.  Primary  education  is 
universal  and  compulsory  today  in  all 
Western  countries,  and  ten  grades  of 
schooling  in  most.  One  may  assume  that 
the  average  British,  French,  Swiss  or  Nor- 
wegian I.Q.  is  not  higher 
than  the  average  Amer- 
ican. But  the  possession 
of  basic  knowledges  is 
much  higher. 

Also,  it  seems  to  me, 
the  current  notion  that 
a  low  I.Q.  cannot  be  im- 
proved—that "native" 
intelligence  is  all  that 
counts— needs  challeng- 
ing. The  brain,  like  any 
other  organ,  improves 
with  training.  A  boy  I 
know  was  tested  at  the 
age  of  seven  and  listed 
with  a  low  average  I.Q. 
His  father,  connected 
with  an  international 
business,  was  stationed 
in  Scotland  where  his 
son  had  three  years  of 
schooling.  On  the  return 
of  the  family  to  America 
the  child,  tested  again,  was  found  to  be  in 
the  high-average  class  and  was,  furthermore, 
a  full  grade  ahead  of  his  contemporaries. 

Then  there  is  deportment.  Healthy  chil- 
dren are  high-spirited  and  therefore  mis- 
chievous. But  American  children  from 
"good"  families  and  schools  commit  acts 
of  wanton  destruction  that  are  passed  over 
as  "pranks,"  or  with  a  weary  shrug,  such 
as  slashing  automobile  tires,  putting  sand 
in  gas  tanks,  pilfering  from  stores.  If  my 
brother  and  I,  who  often  invented  ingen- 
ious ways  of  discomfiting  our  elders,  had 
done  any  comparable  thing,  our  backsides 
would  have  smarted  for  a  w^eek.  And  if 
anyone  thinks  that  absolutely  certain 
punishments  for  certain  prohibited  acts 
did  not  aid  us  in  resisting  temptation,  or 
that  the  punishment  created  a  "complex," 
that  person,  it  seems  to  me,  needs  a  little 
psychological  analysis  himself.  We  had  the 
emotional  security  of  early  learning  the 
consequences  of  causes;  our  parents  were 
affectionate,  and  we  were  never  punished 
cruelly  or  unjustly,  and  we  knew  it.  And 
we  knew  also,  and  instinctively,  that  our 
parents  punished  us  because  they  deeply 
cared  for  us. 

A  child,  unti'ained  in  deportment  at 
home,  is  a  great  problem  for  teachers,  who 
are  not  themselves  permitted  to  exercise 
"old-fashioned"  disciplines.  Present  faults 
cannot  justly  all,  be  laid  to  "progressive 
education."  The  subjection  of  teachers  to 
often  half-literate  political  principals,  their 
diminishing  role  in  actively  framing  school 
curricula  and  methods;  the  grading  of 
pupils  by  a  business-machine  system  ac- 
cording to  their  answers  to  mechanical 
quizzes,  without  the  intervening  judgment 
of  the  teacher;  the  low  social  status  of 
teachers  in  a  society  that  views  worth 
(Conlinued  on  Page  124) 


I      V    I)     I  I 


II   II   \l  I 


t     i>    I      II     N     \  I 


Open  the  door  to  Spring 

The  Green  Giant  puts  June  on  your  doorstep 
with  his  fresh-picked,  baby-tender  peas 


It's  just  as  though  the  Green  Giant  stepped  out  to  the  garden  and  picked  a 
batch  of  peas  for  you.  That's  how  fresh  Green  Giant  Brand  peas  are.  They're 
picked  at  the  fleeting  moment  of  perfect  flavor  and  packed  into  cans  ahnost  be- 
fore the  dewdrops  have  a  chance  to  dry.  How  about  some  fresh-peas-in-the- 
pod  without  the  pod  tonight? 

Green  Giant  Peas 


Gre^  Giant  Company,  headfjuartera-  LeSueur, 
Minnesota:  Fine  Foods  of  Canada,  Ltd..  Te- 
cumseh,  Ontario.  "Green  Giant"  Brand  Keg. 
U.  S.  Pat.  Off.  ©  GGCo. 


16 


LADIES'       II    ()    ME       JO    U    K    N    A  L 


April,  191 


Life's  Darkest  Moment 


BV  WEBSTER 


Get  a  ^U^s\ar^  withliior 


By  BERNARDINE  KIELTY 


COMK  sprins.  we  think  of  mollis.  V 
friend  of  ours  <'al!e)I  up  the  exter- 
minator man  when  she  found  that  her 
sofa  was  heiiiK  eonsiimed.  lie  told  her 
not  to  feel  too  had.  Creatures  got  into 
the  hest  of  institutions.  In  one  of  New 
York's  finest  museums,  eoekroaehes 
had  taken  over  and  started  eating  the 
paint  off  the  pietiires,  he  told  her;  and 
a  transcontinental  railway  had  just 
installed  some  super  new  I'liIInian 
ears  when  they  found  that  moths  had 
started  a  eomplete  eivilization  of  their 
own  hehind  the  extra-secure  insula- 
tion panels.  Every  panel  had  to  be 
taken  out. 


On  April  21  Queen  Elizabeth  will  be 
27  years  old.  Last  year  on  her  birthday 
she  was  out  in  the  ancient  courtyard  of 
Windsor  Castle  reviewing  the  Grenadier 
Guards.  It  was  raining  and  her  two 
children  were  at  a  window  watching.  The 


guards  in  their  big  bearskins  stood  erect 
and  tall,  and  alone  before  them  the  slim 
younii  queen.  All  ivas  hushed — when 
Prince  Charles,  aged  Sl-i.  called  out, 
"Hello,  mummy!"  ^ 

We  just  heard  a  neat  recipe  for  re- 
pose and  a  healthy  old  age.  which  a 
woman  will  appreciate  more  than  a 
man.  .  .  .  An  old  Negro  woman,  in 
vigorous  health  and  spirits  despite 
her  great  age,  was  aske«l  how  she 
managed  to  keep  that  way.  IT  hen  she 
worked,  she  sai«l,  she  tvorketl  hard. 
W  hen  she  sat.  she  sat  loose.  If  hen  she 
worried,  she  went  to  sleep. 


For  children:  We  are  a  Family,  by 
Inez  Hogati.   Children  love  families. 
They  know  about  them.  And  here  to 
their  delight  they  will  find  a  family  of 
(Conlinued  on  Page  18) 


REPRINTED  COURTESY  OF  THE  SATURDAY  EVENING  POST 


'You've  had  the  rabbits  over  a  month  now 
and  still  haven't  explained  anything  to  Junior." 


I    \  I)  I  I 


I     "     \l     I  )     It     I      II     N     N  I 


iSIC  RECIPE  -  JEASy  AS  2-2-3 


3;hhh !  a  really     Salad  idea! 

&offle!!alads! 

MADE  I'HE  NEW  FA^T- FROST  way/ 


After  you  ic.ul  you'll  never  again  sav 
there's  nothing  new  under  the  sun! 

Mellmann's  am!  Hcsl  I  oiuK  Hcul  Mayon- 
naise and  Jell-O  have  conic  up  with  a  salad  that 
looks  and  tastes  like  no  other  salad  you've 
ever  served ! 


li  s  the  rich,  smtK)ih  soi  l  1 1  i    , \i  m. 
all  yt)u  need  is  Jcll-()  and  Rvul  Mayod 
and  your  favorite  vegetables,  fruit,  chh.kcii, 
cheese,  etc.  (sec  bcUm). 

Why  not  try  one  of  the  rccipei  our  cooks 
drcnmcd  up— or,  one  of  your  own! 


VEGETABLE  Tim  Sooff Ig  Salad 

spoon  r.nclychorHo"'""  S^^^\  ''' 
rlshandaiilional  Ra,/ Mayonnaise. 


2  Dissolve  1  package  Lemon  or 
Lime  Jell-O  in  1  cup  hot  water. 
Aikl  Vi  '-•up  cold  water,  1  to  2 
tahlespoons  vinegar  or  lemon 
juice,  and  '/i  cup  Best  Foods  or 
Hellmann"s  Real  Mayonnaise. 
Season  with  salt  and  pepper. 
Blend  well  with  rotary  beater. 
Pour  into  freezing  tray. 


2  Quick-chill  in  freezing  unit 
(without  changing  control)  15  to 
20  minutes,  or  until  the  mixture 
is  firm  about  1  inch  from  edge 
but  soft  in  center.  Then  turn  mix- 
ture into  a  bowl  and  whip  with 
a  rotary  egg  beater  until  Huffy 
and  creamv-smooth. 


3  Fold  in  1  to  ly^  cups  vege- 
tables, fruits,  fish,  poultry,  meat, 
cheese,  or  eggs.  Pour  into  1 -quart 
mold  or  individual  molds.  Chill 
until  firm  in  refrigerator  (not 
freezing  unit)  30  to  60  minutes. 
Serve  on  salad  greens  with  Real 
Mayonnaise.  Serves  4  to  6. 


JELL-O  W 
Best  Foods  or  Hellmann's 


nuvvQz  SouflFle  Salad 

•  c;nuffle  salad  using  Lemon 
Make  the  Baste  SouWe  S 
jai-O.  in  step  3  foW  .  ^^J^^  ,^  ^.ced 
spinach,  3/4  cup  co^^t^-        ,-,ely  chop^d 


fJ^Jgpl^YOHIlAlJ?' 


For  uniformly  fine  results,  be  sure  to  use  only 
Jcll-O  and  Best  Foods  or  Hellmann's  Real 
Mayonnaise,  w  ith  w  hich  this  new  salad  idea  w  as 
expressly  created  by  our  Consumer  Kitchens. 


THE  WEST 


(N  THE  EAST 

JELL-O  IS   »  REGISTEREO  TI1»0E1I«I1K  OF  GENERAL  FOODS  CO»FOB«TIOII  BEST  FOODS  >?U>  HELLH  •  N U  S  ARE  RECISTFRED  TRAOEHABICS  OF  THE  tEST  FOODS  mc 


18 


1,   A    II    I    E    S  ' 


II    O    M  E 


.1    ()    U    K    iN    A  L 


April,  195h 


HEADACHE? 


PAIN-RELIEVER 


"Speedy 


Trode  Mark 


WITH 


Alka-Sehzer 


BRAND 


O    \   Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  OfF. 


Actual  tests  prove  the  system 
absorbs  more  pain-reliever  faster 
from  ALKA-SELTZER.  And  it's 
gentle  too  . . .  soothes,  doesn't 
upset  your  stomach.  For  pleas- 
ant, speedy  headache  relief, 
freshen  up  with  ALKA-SELTZER. 


ALSO  FOR 

ACID  INDIGESTION 
COLD  DISCOMFORTS 
MUSCULAR  ACHES 


On  Display 

AT  ALL  DRUG  STORES 

MADE  BY  MILES  LABORATORIES,  INC.,  ELKHART,  IND. 


.  S.  ond 
Canada 


{Conlinued  from  Page  16) 
chimpanzees,  a  family  of  beavers,  a 
little  family  of  big  polar  bears,  a  big 
family  of  small  house  mice,  and  a  soar- 
ing family  of  eagles. 

For  father,  three  remarkable  books  of 
adventure:  Lost  Trails,  Lost  Cities, 
Col.  P.  Faivceit''sown  account  of  seven 
of  his  exploratory  trips  into  the  South 
American  jungles— snakes,  files,  ancient 


TRUE,  THE  MAN  S  MAGAZINE 


"All  the  first-aid  book  sa>  s  is 
'most  unfortunate.'*' 


cities,  gold,  savages,  rivers,  mountains. 
From  his  eighth  journey,  begun  in  1925, 
he  never  returned.  Whether  he  is  now 
alive  or  dead  no  one — at  least  no  one 
outside  the  jungle — knows.  The  book  is 
edited  by  his  son.  .  .  .  Heaven  has 
Claws,  by  Arlriati  Conan  Doyle— 
(son  of  Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle) — 
journey  in  a  small  sailboat  in  the  treach- 
erous waters  off  the  east  coast  of  Africa, 
with  hair-raising  adventures  on  islands 
unvisited  before  for  centuries.  .  .  . 
AnnapuRNA,  by  Maurice  Herzog,  the 
most  matter-of-factly  written,  yet  at 
the  same  time  the  most  exciting  ven- 
ture of  them  all — the  story  of  how  two 
men,  Herzog  and  another,  climbed  a 
26,493-foot  peak,  the  highest  mountain 
yet  climbed  by  man. 

The  High  and  Mighty,  by  Ernest 
K.  Gann,  is  also  first-class  adventure. 
In  this  case  a  novel  which  takes  place 
over  the  Pacific  in  an  airplane  doomed 
to  go  down,  all  the  passengers  realizing 
their  danger.  A  combination  of  Storm 
(with  all  rescue  facilities  converging) 
and  of  Grand  Hotel,  with  each  pas- 
senger a  story  in  himself. 

The  Private  Lives  of  the  Proph- 
ets and  the  Times  in  Which  They 
Lived,  by  Brooke  Peter  Church,  is  a 

good  history  of  Old  Testament  times 
and  of  the  basic  beliefs  out  of  which 
grew  the  Hebrew,  Christian  and  Mos- 
lem religions.  A  good  brusher-up  even 
for  those  who  know  their  Bible  times. 

The  Man  Whistler,  by  Hesketh 
Pearson,  is  a  typical  chatty  Pearson 
biography  filled  to  the  brim  with  anec- 
dotes. He  was  pretty  fresh — Jimmy 
Whistler — and  the  wisecrack  was  al- 
ways ready  on  his  lips,  but  one  or  two 
great  men  managed  to  take  him  down. 
Whistler  always  wanted  to  paint  Dis- 
raeli. Once  when  he  was  in  St.  James's 
Park  he  saw  the  Prime  Minister  stand- 
ing alone,  motionless  and  enigmatic, 
and  he  decided  to  muster  up  his  courage 
and  speak  to  him.  It  wasn't  easy.  He 
made  himself  known  and  spoke  of  his 
ambition  to  paint  him.  But  there  was  no 
response.  Not  a  movement  suggested 
that  Dizzy  was  aware  of  his  presence. 
So  Whistler  started  to  speak  again. 
(Continued  on  Page  21) 


NANCY  GAGGIN 


"WE  POWERS  MODELS 
USE  ONLY 
KREML  SHAMPOO" 

"Our  hair  must  be  glamorous,  so 
we  use  only  Kreml  Shampoo!"  say 
these  famous  Powers  models. 

Lathering  luxuriantly  even  in 
hard  water,  Kreml  Shampoo 
thoroughly  cleanses  hair  and  scalp 
of  dirt  and  dandruff  flakes  .  .  . 
helps  bring  out  the  natural,  jewel- 
like highlights  in  your  hair.  Kreml 
Shampoo  contains  enriching  nat- 
ural oils  that  help  keep  hair 
lustrous,  silky  and  satin  smooth. 

Use  Kreml  Shampoo  .  .  .  see  how 
silky,  lustrous  and  manageable  it 
will  leave  your  hair,  too. 


"/  recommend  only 
Kreml  Shampoo  to 

my  models,"  says  John 
Robert  Poivers,  beauty 
authority  and  head  of 
Poivers  Model  Agency. 


SHAMPOO^^O^ 

I  Good  HousokMpUif  J 

YOUR  BEAUTY  SHAMPOO 


THE  J.  S.  WILLIAMS  COMPANY 


T 


I      \    I)     I  I 


II     •>     M     I  1     U     I       l(      N      \  I 


19 


Bur- Limes 


/^()'rroNi«"kin«"i„,i„   „„    ,  ^  ^ 

.  .  you'll  iici-d  .1  Nti.ii|)  ryr  u>  lrlu^lli/^  il 
111  lis  many  nuisrs  lliis  sr.iMon  V.,.ril  .liiwovn  .niu 
.111(1  s<  |)aiat(S  ill  lini  ii  mixliiir  ly|K-»,  "lwrr(J«,"  lil)- 
[xd  or  milihy  Icxhik  h  .  .  .  all  iiiatir  of  loval.lr.  ml), 
balilc  (ouoii  I,,  vvt-ai  rrom  now  ihriiUKli  Sr|»trinlKT! 


WaKI:-1'P  has  one  PURPOSR  ONI.Y  .  .  .  ,..  n.ak.  v..n  l..„k  l.y  l„i„K. 

I    iiig  oiil  your  own  best  features!  Now  you  i)rol)al)ly  liavi- 
in-  own  favorite  heauty  trie  ks,  or  niaylx-  you  like  to  t-xiM-ii- 
•nt.  Wliiclu'ver  the  case,  do  you  know  wliat  an  ini|>oit.uil 
rt  (X)-K  I  S,  the  quilled  cotton  stjuares,  can  play?  In  fai  t, 
•onsider  (lO-IVrS  a  "inusi"  for  inake-u|)!  They're  ni.ide 
the  linest  cotton — and  are  just  the  right  size  for  applying 
jge  and  powder.  And  when  you  use  a  clean,  fresh-eai  h 
le  CX)-K  r  you're  protecting  your  delicate  ( (luiplexion 
;at  .  .  .  soft  .  .  .  smooth  .  .  .  wonclerfully  ahsorhem  (lO-lC  I  S 
:  so  perfect  for  home  permanents,  astringents  and  mani- 
res  .  .  .  as  well  as  endless  other  beauty  cliores.  Still  they 
ly  cost  1 9c  for  a  box  of  40  s(|uares  .  .  .  Wn-  for  a  box  of  (10. 
)u  iiuist  ti\-  ilicm  .  .  .  and  bo  sure  to  send  for  this: 
REE  BEAUTY  BOOKLET,   "Head-To-Toe  Tips  On  Vour  Good  looks  "  ll'i  poctod  with  boiic  boouly 
ricks  .  .  .  truly  priceless  for  any  woman  who  wants  to  be  beautiful.  See  OFFER  §\  In  box. 

now.  LO\  EI.Y  UNDF.RTHINCS  ...  but  hale  to  pay  a  pretty  penny  for 
L  them?  Well,  you  don't  liave  to,  you  know  .  .  .  for  L'ndies  of  SPl'N-I.O  rayon 
fabric  arc  exquisite  beauties  at  a  real  bargain  price!  Since 
they're  made  of  SPUN-L(),  they're  wonderhilly  soft,  smooth 
and  absorbent.  \nd  they're /i///-f«/  .  .  .  designed  to  give  you 
streamlined  fit  with  complete  freedom  and  comfort.  What's 
more,  Panties  of  SPUN-LO  are  run-n-snlant  and  have  rein- 
forced seams  .  .  .  wear  beyond  your  fondest  dreams.  I  can 
promise  you,  too,  that  they  wash  in  a  "wink"  and  dry  while 
you  sleep  (fast  enough,  I'd  say,  even  if  you  have  only  one 
pair!)  .  .  .  and  they  need  no  ironing!  Still  they  cost  oh-so 
little  .  .  .  only  about  69c.  And  listen  to  this  .  .  .  SPL'N-LO 
Gowns  arc  actually  under  $2.  Both  cotne  in  many  different 
'les  .  .  .all  sized  to  ht.  Just  be  sure  you  insist  on  one  label  .  .  .  SPUN-LO.  It  bears 
t  Good  Housekeeping  Seal. 

7 HE  WORLD  IS  FULL  of  wonderful  new  products  .  .  .  and  high  on  the  list 
is  CUTICURA  MEDICATED  LIQUID!  It's  a  real  blessing  if  vou  have 
hlete's  Foot  .  .  .  for  this  greaselcss,  stainless,  "invisible" 
eparation  helps  bring  wonderfully  quick,  comforting 
lief.  That's  because  it's  so  effectively  antiseptic  it  stops 
hing  instantly  ...  as  well  as  relieves  that  burning,  tor- 
;nting  feeling  that's  so  agonizing.  And  I  can  assure  you 
at  CUTICURA  MEDICATED  LIQUID  nerer  irritates 
.  but  gently  soothes  disconofort  as  it  speeds  healing  of 
w,  open  cracks.  You'll  find  it  just  as  effective  for  sooth- 
5  insect  bites  .  .  .  externally  caused  skin  blemishes,  too. 
id  you  can  use  it  frequently  during  the  day  ...  for  it 
ives  no  tell-tale  medicinal  odor  and  can  be  applied  either 
er  or  under  your  make-up.  Want  to  try  it?  Then  take  advantage  of  this: 
iPECIAL  OPPORTUNITY  ...  a  chance  to  get  o  generous  SAMPLE  of  CUTICURA  MEDICATED 
(QUID  for  only  lOcI  It's  too  good  to  miss  ...  see  OFFER  #2  in  box. 

Jl  /HAT  IS  TRUE  HAIR  BEAUTY?  Well,  it  means  more  than  merely  sham- 
1/  pooing,  brushing,  styling  and  setting  .  . .  you  must  keep  your  hair  neatly  groomed 
and  exactly  the  way  you  arranged  it !  And  as  far  as  I  know, 
there's  only  one  way  to  do  that  .  .  .  wear  a  \'ENID.\  Hair 
Net!  I  alwavs  wear  one  .  .  .  for  I  find  that  the  10  seconds 
I  spend  slipping  a  \'ENID.A  over  my  head  each  morning 
save  me  hours  of  redoing  time  during  the  day  .  .  .  and, 
what's  more,  give  me  a  feeling  of  assurance  that  my  hair 
always  looks  its  prettiest  and  best.  I'm  sure  you'll  feel  the 
same  way,  too  .  .  .  in  fact,  you'll  find  that  a  \  ENIDA 
Hair  Net  rules  the  waves  so  perfectly  you'll  never  be  with- 
out one.  Nobody  ever  knows  you  wear  it,  either  ...  so 

-   get  several  todav.  Thev  come  in  every  hair  shade  ...  for 

-erv  hair  style.  And  I  also  urge  you  to  try  VENIDA  Rubber-Tipped  Bob  Pins  .  . 
r  they  have  an  extra  strong  tension  grip  .  .  .  with  smooth  safety  ends  that  can  t 
Itch  or  scratch.  I  think  they're  perfect  ...  so  will  you. 

JOV  ASKED  FOR  IT  and  here  it  is  ...  a  corn  plaster  made  especially  to  fit 
/    a  woman's  smaller  toes!  BLUE-J.^Y  created  it  for  .        the  new 

LUE-JAY  Ladies'  Size  Corn  Plasters  ^vah  PhenyUurn.  They  re  nar.ower 
nailer  than  regular  size  corn  plasters  ...  so  dainty  they 
:  snugly  even  in  your  dressiest  shoes.  And  you  know  how 
LUE-JAY'S  new  Wonder  Drug,  Phenyhum,  works  ... 
3w  it  helps  push  out  corns  from  underneath!  1  hat  s  ngtit 
.  Phenylium  quickly  and  gently  travels  down  through  your 
)rn  right  to  its  base  .  .  .  where  it  helps  new  live  tissue  cells 
.  grow.  Soon  these  new  cells  push  up  even  a  fwbbom  corn 
.  .  you  simply  lift  it  out!  Sounds  too  technical?  neU, 
Hen  to  this  ...  in  actual  tests  Phenylium  -^^"^0  work  Wo 

ister  and  worked  35%  more  surely  than  old-st>le  remeoits  .  _..,„.... 

uick,  comfortable  relief  from  a  painful  corn,  take  my  i  P  -  • 
adies'  Size  Corn  Plasters  with  Phenylium.  At  all  drug  counters. 


and 


NEW  DRUG 


PHENYLIUM 


get  new  BLUE-JAY 


Ijy.Yrn/ry  Sasser 


AN  ADVI  KIISINO  fM.I 


11  \\  I.  YOU  HF  ARD  ihr 

hrjiiif  .      .  itliillkl  III  U  \>i\^  illl|iro\rii,i  1.1  II.  II. > 
il!   I'll)  liol  rx.iKK'''^<*lil>K         '  I'll*  l>^M  la\tr 
ii.lllN)  liiiin  ill  Mri|{hl  willi  raw*  I 
Uiid  rflit  iriil  .  .  .  dora  all  kitidt 
ill  MO  liiiir  al  all  and  hold*  \f  i\'- 
r(  oiiniiiical,  I(Mi  .  .  .  for  .N'rss  I  iiriiiu. 
I  a|)r  not  only  i  imU  vrry  lilllr  but  ilnVi     ■  hi  i'  ;. 
a  ■itiali  iiiiji  il  all  you  iirrd  for  inoii  joIn  N'our  fa\ 
iiovN  hax  iliii  irnialioiial  iirw  la|ir     .  ki  tjr  turr  i" 
M-vrral  rolU  iirxl  liiiir  you'rr  ihoppiiiK   Juil  liMik  for 
I'lirinula  "Srnlili"  Hraiid  'l.t\>r  .  .     in  ihr  familiar  rrd- 
girrii  plaid  diiiK-iivii.  .Ami  liolr  I  laid  irvrral  rolli  .  . 
en /oy  uiiiiK  lliii  (.rllopliaiir  ta|x-  lh.i<    !i' I    ii  limft  tighUi! 


furc  ycMj'll  really 


J M  SENDINt;  MY  I-.AS  I  KK  ( .Kl.l.  I INCS  l,y  WE.STRRN  UNION  Trlr^ram 
.  .  .  for  I  think  ii's  by  far  ihr  mini  way  lo  Id  luvrd  (iiirt  krunv  you  with  iKrin 
happinru  fin  ihii  lar  rrd  day.  And  ii'i  vt  rx(  iliiiK  lo  (i|>rn 
ihr  allra(  livr  grrrling  rnvrlopr  .  ,  .  and  »rr  ihr  liraillifiil, 
rolor-illu.nlratrd  VVI..SII,KN  UNIO.V  blank  with  ..     ■     .  - 
rs|ir(  i.illy-for-you !  To  iriy  iinall  frirnds,  will  «ri  Bin 
.  .  .  Ijrcaiiv  I  know  how  llirilird  ihry'll  Ijr  lo  \ 
from  the  Ka.Htrr  Bunny  hirnnrlf.  Ii'i  a*  ra»y  ui  vnd  Ui)  Trlr- 
gram.i  m  10,  loo  .  .  .  y<iu  jum  rail  WES'lLk.V  \'S\()S, 
^  ^^•^^T^P't^    t^'^'*  your  inrMagr,  willi  iiainr<i  and  addrrws,  and  liavr  ihrm 
_  Ik,'!'!!  ,       <^     (  hargrd  on  y<iur  phfinr  bill.  And,  of  loursr,  ihrrr'll  Ijr  lho«r 
I'll  rcmemlxr  with  l'lowrr»-By-U'irr  .  .  .  for  any  Flori»l'i 
Telegraph  Delivery  .Shop  will  deliver  a  Ix-aulifui  Ijouquct  anywhere  in  ihc  world. 
Fill  BOOKLET.  .  ."The  WESTEKN  UNION  Telnurammar  '  Contoini  o  monlhly  reminder  colendor 
with  spaces  lor  namei  and  addresses  r'  •  •.rr;".''"!       ' t.^- '■.  lor        '."t.-,-;    V:  t'j'/ 

invaluable  ...  so  see  OFFER  #3  in  be 

A  C:HIP  IN  THE  FINISH  OF  THE  RA.\C;E,  refrigerator  or  any  whitr  appli- 
ances  really  spoils  the  looks,  dcK-sn't  it?  .NVjw  you  tan 
fix  u|)  that  chipi)ed  spot  with  KRYLON  White.  It  comes  in  a 
handy  pressurized  dis[x"n.ser.  All  you  do  is  push  the  button 
and  a  fine  spray  of  pure  white  Acrylic  KRYI.ON  fills  in  the 
chijjped  area.  It  stays  [x-rfectly  white,  torj!  It's  guaranteed 
not  to  dis-color.  I  find  KR^'LON  White  is  wonderful  for  spray- 
ing window  sills.  KR\'LO.\  is  waterproof  and  when  windows 
sweat,  I  don't  have  to  worry  about  spots.  \  swijx-  with  a  cloth 
keeps  "KRYLON-ized"  sills  clean.  Try  using  KRYLON 
White  on  kitchen  cabinets,  Ixjth  inside  and  out.  It  keeps  them 
so  clean  looking.  KRYLON  also  comes  in  Clear,  Aluminum 
and  Black.  Spraying  the  toes  and  heels  of  children's  shfx-s  with  KR\'LO.\  Clear 
is  a  gotxl  idea.  Shoes  stay  bright  and  last  longer.  .Xsk  for  KRY  LON  at  Department, 
Hardware,  .Art  or  Stationery  stores.  Let  me  know  the  difTerent  ways  you  use  it. 

/  /.-WE  FUN  on  housecleaning  day  .  .  .  whisk  through  each  job  the  O-CEL-O 
^✓v  way!  That's  what  I  do  ...  for  they  mean  faster,  easier  cleaning  all  through 
the  house.  O-CEL-O  .Sponges  save  you  money,  too  .  .  .  because 
their  exclusive  new  "W'ater-Breathing  .Action"  makes  every  drop 
of  water  and  every  bit  of  suds  work  harder.  In  other  words, 
they  use  less  soaps  and  cleansers  while  cleaning  better  .  .  .  yet 
they're  extra  strong  and  last  and  1-a-s-t!  Furthermore.  O-CEL-O 
Sponges  are  oh-so  gentle  .  .  .  you  can  trust  them  for  ever\'thing 
from  washing  dishes,  sparkling  up  the  kitchen  and  bathroom 
to  polishing  your  precious  silver  and  even  bathing  the  baby. 
But  do  they  stay  clean?  Indeed  they  do  .  .  .  just  a  quick  rinse 
in  warm  water  and  they're  like  new  again!  You'll  find  them 
in  sizes  to  fit  every  chore  and  colors  to  match  every  room  .  .  . 
seafoam  green,  ocean  blue,  sunrise  yellow,  shell  pink  and  natural.  So  get  a  complete 
assortment  ...  at  stores  everywhere. 

JN  TUNE  WITH  .APRIL  appetites  .  .  .  this  extra-rich,  extra-delicious  Fresh  Lemon 
Meringue  Pie!  Here's  the  magic  recipie: 

Blend  1 '/3  cups  (15  or.  can)  BORDEN'S  Eagle  Brand  Sweetened 
Condensed  Milk,  V2  cup  lemon  juice,  1  tsp.  grated  lemon  rind  or 
'/i  tsp.  lemon  extract  and  2  egg  yolks.  Stir  till  mixture  thickens.  Pour 
into  chilled  8-inch  crumb  crust  or  cooled  poslry  shell.  For  meringue, 
add  /4  tsp.  cream  of  tartar,  if  desired,  to  2  egg  whites  ond  beat 
until  almost  stiff  enough  to  hold  a  peak.  Add  4  tbsp.  sugor  gradually, 
beating  until  sfifT  but  not  dry.  Pile  lightly  on  pie  filling.  Bake  in  slow 
oven  1325°  F.I  15  mins.  or  until  lightly  browned.  Cool. 

M-m-m  .  .  .  delicious!  .And  that's  just  one  of  70  quick,  easy, 
economical  treats  in  BORDEN'S  brand-new  hook  called  "70 
Magic  Recipes"  .  .  .  gorgeously  illustrated  in  full  color  so  you 
can  see  exactly  what  each  luscious  delight  looks  like!  It's  yours  for  only  10c,  too  .  .  . 
and  if  you  cook,  you  simply  must  have  this  tiook!  I  mean  it ...  so  see  OFFER  =4  in  box. 


Write  Nancy  Sa(t«r,  Dept.  J-13,  271  Moditon  Ave.,  New  York  16,  N.  Y.,  for: 

H  OFFER  ==1  .  .  .  Free  CO-ETS  Booklet  .  .  .  "Hwoa  lo-lo*  Tipt  On  Your  Good  tooti." 

1^  OFFER  '7  .  .  .  Generous  Sample  of  CUTICURA  .  .  .  enclose  10c,  pleoie. 

1  OFFER  -3  .  .  .  Free  Booklet  .  .  .  'The  WESTERN  UNION  UUgrammar." 

□  OFFER  =4  .  .  .  BORDEN'S  "70  Mogic  Recipes".  .  .  t  clot*  10c  please. 


II    O    M    E  JOURNAL 


April  1953 


125  feet  of  waxed- through 
protection 


"CUT-RITE"  REG.  U.  S.  PAT.  OFF. 


Waxed  completely  thmqh . . .  twfsfs  without  splittinq    cuttinq  edqe  tears  easily  / 


Today's  prices  call  for  using  up  every  bit  of 
roast.  So  wrap  whafs  left  in  Cut-Rite  to  guard 
thefresh  flavor  for  other  delicious  meals.  Cut-Rite 
is  a  real  protector — it's  not  just  surface  waxed 
— ifs  waxed  all  the  way  through. 


Little  things  like  radishes,  half  a  lemon  or  to- 
mato, in  a  twist  of  Cut- Rite  keep  moist  and 
take  up  far  less  icebox  space.  And  you  save 
washing  dishes,  too.  Cut-Rite  is  so  pliable  you  can 
fold  or  twist  it  without  its  splitting  or  breaking. 


You  can  tear  off  what  you  want  when  you  want 
it.  Cut-Rite"s  famous  cutting  edge  always  tears 
off  quick  and  clean.  Cut-Rite  saves  food,  time, 
dishwashing.  Always  keep  an  extra  box  on  hand 
so  you'll  never  run  out.  A  Scott  Paper  Product. 


If  you  want -to  be  sure- wrap  it  in  Cut^fe 


rUFFY 


oaazing  plastic 
/\rQnder-]iiesh" 


rUFFY 


'leans  sticky 
)ots  and  pans 


rUFFY 


ush,  macaroni 


rUFFY 


alw^ 
•inses  dean 


rUFFY 


never  smells 
never  stains 
never  scratches 


*  Guaranteed  by  *A 

Good  Housekeeping  i 

^^OvUlistP^;^,^     y  S.  PAT.  HO.  2. 601. "I 
E  S.O.S.  CO.,  CHICAGO;  TUFFV  OF  CANADA,  LTD.,  TORONTO 


I     \    l>    I     I  II  ,, 

H  'ntlllllll,  .1    I, .,111   l\i    ,  IS) 

I'lieii  llif  lit>H  of  the  sljiiia-  |wrli<l  aiwl 
:i  few  hollow  words  camr  oui :  • 
:iway,  iiitjf  i„a„.  j,„  ;,way."  Wlnntk-r 
wcnl. 

• 

iwiry  iiiotlur  and  daunhli-r  irih-r- 
I'stcd  in  Ihf  stil))f(  l  will  liavf  a  haiiK-up 
liMu  KadinnOii.Wim  \  Uomikhm  i. 

Wi;i»HIN<..  I)y  liruiinu  l(„„„„m.  It  m 

very  funny  fanual-iuimy  hiil  wiili 
(|uilc  t  iiouuli  Iruih!  ||  covim  llic  whole 
colossal  affair  from  "Sir.  coiiUI  I  hiivr  a 
word  wilh  you  in  |)rivalf?"  iih  CIh-i 
:iiidrcsHCH  MillyK  father;  Ihrounh  "Hiii 


2  I 


Hhl'HINIIdi  lOIHIMitV  11^ 
mil  HAIimilAV  KVKNINli  Hnr 


'\\  Ik-m  I  ;:i-l  oiari'i)')!.  I'm 
^oMiia  liaxra  ••iMi|ili-  u  nl- 
din"  \titli  li;unliiii'ii<-i'-." 


of  course  we  want  to  make  a  ho<kI  im- 
pression," when  it  becomes  inevitable 
that  the  two  families  meet;  "Whose 
wedding  is  this!"  uttered  stridently  by 
tiie  young  couple  ...  to  "This  is  it"  as 
tiie  invitations  finally  .go  out  700  in- 
stead of  the  10  planned  by  Milly  and 
diet.  A  litting  gift  for  the  engaged 
girl's  mother. 

• 

Tiiilirr.  <i  /»/(i<  A -<i/)</-i< 7ii/<'  ll<)^  of 
nil nirlrss  hrvi-il.  i  iiiiii-  Uitnir  I  Id-  itl  Ii4'r 
iliiv  ami  si-lllt'il  rifihl  iiilo  liix  /</- 
lorilr  ihair  iix  if  iiotliiiii:  liiiil 
IH'iifil.  Ilr  iifiil  tml  for  a  iralli  >ix  vi-iirs 
aUoaiKl  I  his  i<«.s  his  Jirst  rrititpfiininir. 


Ninety-nine  per  cent  of  college  girls 
use  lip  Toitfie,  says  sonieone-or-otlier  who 
made  a  study  of  5000  colleae  students  in 
forty-ont  unireTsities.  What  we'd  like  to 
know  about  is  that  one  per  cent.  Is  she- 
are  they  so  beautiful  that  their  mouths  do 
not  need  emphasis?  Or  are  they  girls  of 
character  who  aren't  afraid  to  be  uncon- 
ventional? 

• 

Al  llamillon  CoIU'bc  iIk-vVc  st;irl- 
iii"  a  s«'lf-.s«T\  !<•«•  lM>ok>ilorc  run  on  I  he 
honor  s>sU'ni. 'I'lu'  shop  «ill  him-  I  he 
U>ok  of  a  rt-achnji  room  «  Uvrv  sinih-nis 
can  hrowsi — carpot.  (kmxI  li;:htin». 
eas\  chairs,  (iooci  reprints  uill  he 
sold  (IVnfiniii.  N«'«  \incrican  l.ihrary. 
an<l  so  on)  and  stnilenis  «ill  paj  for 
lh«-ir  pnrrhascs  by  way  of  an  «ipon 
cash  Im>x. 

Among  the  pocket-size  books  we  rec- 
ommend I1!S(;ri-:at  Joi  RVKv.  the  Ufe 
of  Christ,  by  Moimel  Komroff  (Lion 
Books.  25*);  Vi  HAT  TO  Livi  kn  k)k  in 
Music,  by  Aaron  Copland  (Mentor 
Books,  35c);  TiiosK  Dkmi.s  in  B\«;gy 
Pants,  by  Ross  S.  Carter,  one  of  the 
best  war  books  (Signet  Books,  25c); 
New  Worlo  Vi  ritin<;.  an  anthology  of 
contemporary  writing  (Mentor  Books, 
50e) ;  and  Dis<:overy,  on  the  same  or- 
der (Pocket  Books,  35c). 


These  are  the 


that  became  famous  overnight  because 
one  woman  told  another  of  their  flavor 


You  can  bake  them  quick  and  easy  with... 

PY-O-MY 

Blueberry 

MUFFIN  MIX 


BLUEBERRY 

MUFFIN  mix 

/ne/wi/«»  A  CAN  OF 

BLUEBERRIES 


l#»   of   pop*'    SO^'W^  CWP* 


All  in  one  package 


Con  of 


juicy 


Bag  of 

^-U,j>W  superb 


A  Set 
of 


BLUEBERRIES   MUFFIN  MIX  BAKING  CUPS 
Makes  10  to  16  delicious  muffins 

Serve  'em  often ! 

#  breakfast,  lunch  and  dinner 

#  as  dessert  or  with  meals 

#  when  friends  drop  in 

#  after-school  or  evening  snacks 

#  <n  lunch  boxes 

Kitctien  Ar»  Foods,  Inc.,  Chicago  47,  Illinois 


22 


LADIES'  no 


ME       J    O    n    R    N   A  L 


April,  1< 


Easy  way  to  a  naturally  radiant  skin 

QUICK  HOME  FACIAL 
WITH  THIS  4-PURPOSE  CREAM! 


Now .follow  Lady  Esther  s  super- speed 
r  ecipe  for  true  loveliness! 


ONE-MINUTE  FACIAL 


1.  Smooth  Lady  Esther  4-Purpose 
Face  Cream  up  your  neck  and  face. 
Don't  rub!  This  self-acting  cream 
takes  away  dirt  that  can  turn  into 
blackheads  .  .  .  relieves  dryness.  Re- 
move gently. 

2.  Splash  face  with  cold  water.  Blot 
with  soft  towel.  You  don't  need  as- 
tringent. This  4-way  Cream  works 
with  Nature  to  refine  coarse  pores. 

3.  Smooth   on   a   second  "rinse" 

of  Lady  Esther  4-Purpose  Face  Cream. 
Remove  with  tissue.  A  special  oil  in 
the  cream  softens  and  conditions  your 
face  for  make-up. 

4.  Ready  now  to  put  on  your  "face." 

Make-up  goes  on  smoothly  — clings 
for  hours!  You're  really  pretty  always. 


Imagine!  With  one  face  cream 
alone  you  can  give  your  skin  all 
the  vital  benefits  of  an  expensive 
beauty  shop  facial.  Because 
Lady  Esther  4-Purpose  Face 
Cream  all  by  itself  is  a  complete 
beauty  treatment.  In  one  minute 
it  cleans,  softens,  tones  and 
satinizcs  your  skin ! 

So  easy  now  to  give  yourself 
a  facial!  Follow  these  simple 
directions  morning  or  night.  In 
the  bathroom  or  in  the  kitchen. 
Or  in  the  washroom,  if  you  work. 
Get  the  Lady  Esther  facial  habit 
for  healthier,  cleaner  skin.  Be 
lovely  to  look  at  always! 


CREAM  ^ 


Lady  Esther  Complete  Creme  Make-up 


Generous 
Compact 

Plus  Tax 

(Slightly  Higher 
in  Canada) 


MAKE-TIP 


Absolutely  shineproof,  this  new  make-up 
keeps  you  perfectly  groomed  all  day.  No 
retouching  for  eight  hours.  Depend  on  Lady 
Esther  4-Porpase  Face  Cream  p/os  Complete 
Creme  Make-up  for  all  day  loveliness. 


Everyone  concerned  about  the  battle 
wounds  and  the  boys  who  suffer  them 
in  Korea  will  want  to  read  Back  Down 
THE  Ridge,  by  W.  L.  (They  Were 
Expendable)  White.  How  our  boys 
(the  UN  boys)  fight  and  get  wounded, 
and  how  they  are  taken  care  of  from  the 
moment  they  fall,  is  the  burden  of  this 
short  and  very-much-to-the-point  book. 

AhoiH  hlooil  donations:  A  pint  lakes 
only  20  rninutfK  to  give.  A  rivilian 
body  replaces  il  in  2\  horn's.  Almost 
anyone  between  ages  18  and  59  is  eligi- 


INTERNATIONAL  NEWS  PHOTO 


iMeclical  corpsinen  administer 
blood  tu  wounded  in  Korea. 


ble,  and  <'oiild  give  blooti  every  two 
months.  .  .  .  At  one  point  during  an 
Allied  retreat,  the  supply  ol°l>I<io<l  was 
so  low  that  a  Marine  Corps  medical 
oflieer  standing  among  his  woiin<led, 
an«l  «ilh  only  a  few  pints  left,  had  to 
••boose  «bieh  man  might  live. 


Correction  :  THE  SHADOW  OF  STAL- 
INGRAD by  Ili'inrirli  von  Einseidel, 
mentioned  last  month,  has  been 
changed  to  I  JOINED  THE  RUSSIANS. 

THE  END 


YOU  CAN  BUY  THE  BEST 

"/  like  lo  walk  about  amidst  the 
beautiful  things  of  the  world,"  wrote 
the  philosopher ,  George  Sanlayana. 
Such  beautiful  things  as  he  spoke  of 
are  inexpensively  and  easily  available 
now — for  your  own  home. 

Iliinilfl's  n'att'r  3lnsii- 

This  beloved  work,  written  to  be 
played  aboard  the  Royal  Barge  as  it 
floated  on  the  Thames,  is  now  issued 
in  the  definitive  recording  by  Sir 
Hamilton  Harty  and  the  London 
Philharmonic.  Columbia  Records. 
$2.95  at  all  record  stores. 

Till'  Tri'iisiirii  iif  Uri'iil  I'lU'ins 

One  of  the  more  famous  antholo- 
gies of  English  and  American  poetry, 
edited  by  Louis  Untermeyer,  now  in 
a  new  pocket-sized  edition.  Over 
seven  hundred  poems,  from  Chaucer 
to  Whitman  and  W.  H.  Auden.  576 
pages.  Only  50  cents  at  bookstores 
and  newsstands.  Or  write  Perma- 
books.  Garden  City,  N.Y.  (Include 
five  cents  postage.) 

^'i^ZHnUI^ 

Ten  big  color  prints,  in  portfolio, 
by  one  of  the  greatest  of  French 
modern  painters.  Ideal  for  framing. 
$3.50  at  many  bookstores.  Or  write 
Skira,  Inc.,  381  Fourth  Avenue, 
New  York  16,  N.Y. 


New  finer  MUM 
stops  odor  longer! 

NOW  CONTAINS  AMAZING  NEW 
INGREDIENT  M-3  TO  PROTECT  UNDERARMS 
AGAINST  ODOR-CAUSING  BACTERIA 


Popular  girls  never  risk  perspiration  odor. 
And  with  new  finer  Mum,  it's  so  easy  to 
stay  nice  to  be  near. 

•  Protects  better,  longer.  New  Mum  now 

contains  M-3,  an  amazingly  effective 
"odor-bacteria"  fighter.  Doesn't  give  un- 
derarm odor  a  chance  to  start. 

•  Creamier  new  Mum  is  safe  for  normal 
skin.  Contains  no  harsh  ingredients. 

•  No  waste.  No  drying  out.  New  Mum 

is  the  only  leading  deodorant  that  contains 
no  water  to  dry  out  or  decrease  its  effi- 
ciency. Usable,  wonderful  right  to  the  bot- 
tom of  the  jar.  Get  a  jar  of  Mum  today. 

•  Safe  for  clothes.  Gentle 
Mum  is  certified  by  the 
American  Institute  of 
Laundering,  guaranteed 
not  to  rot  or  discolor  even 
the  finest  fabrics. 


New  MUM' 

CREAM  DEODORANT 

A  Product  of  Brislol-Mym 


I>  I  I 


II     •>  M 


I     1 1  I 


23 


Automatic  washer  makers  advis 

USE  NEW  SUDS-FREE  all 


No  useless  suds  to  poy  for  .  .  .  every 
particle  of  "all"  works  to  give  you  the 
most  wonderful  wash  in  the  world! 

Since  childhood  you've  depended  on  suds  to  lell  you  "llie 
3ap  is  working."  Many  detergent  makers  even  pul  in  ingredi- 
iits  to  puff  up  the  product  and  force  it  to  suds.  Biil  the  truth 
;,  in  a  modern  automatic  washer  suds  can  he  liarinluL 

Suds  form  a  smothering  blanket  that  can  sh)\v  down  a 
asher's  tumbhng,  swirhng  action.  Suds  can  |)ul]  up  and 
verflow  on  the  floor.  Often  suds  clog  the  mechanism  ol  vour 
asher  —  and  some  one  has  to  pay  tor  a  service  call. 

Washer  makers  recommend  "all" 

New  all  is  scientifically  made  to  the  automatic  washer 
lanufacturers'  own  specifications.  It's  practically  sudsless. 
t  lets  your  machine  run  free  and  easy,  the  way  it  was  built 
)  run.  There's  no  messy  overflow  to  mop  up.  And  every  speck 
f  dirt  that  was  in  your  clothes  rinses  away  completely  be- 
ause  there  are  no  sluggish,  clinging  suds. 


**all"  alone  is  all  you  need! 


No  bleach  —  no  bluing 
no  soap  —  no  softener 


COSTS  ONLY  5€  PER  WASH 

.  .  .  less  than  any  other  washing  powder  tested 


You'll  get  a  beautiful,  hygienically  clean  wash  with  all. 
'he  kind  of  wash  you  paid  for  when  you  bought  your  auto- 
latic.  No  extras  to  buy  either.  Whitener  and  water  softener 
are  right  in  the  all  formula. 

Take  the  advice  of  the  maker  of 
your  automatic  washer.  Use  all,  the 
suds-free  washing  powder  ...  and  glory  in 
the  most  wonderful  wash  in  the  world! 

Buy  all  at  appliance,  grocery,  hard- 
ware and  department  stores. 

all"  is  the  wonderful  suds-free  washing  powder  recommended  by,  the  top-flight  automatic  wosher  manufacturers. 


L   ADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  n 


This  automatic  washer  chases  out  even 
deep-down  dirt -lifts  it  up -floats  it  all  away 


Out  goes 

grubbed -in  dirt 
from  children's 
play  clothes! 


Away  goes 
ground-in  grime 

from  dad's 
work  outfits! 


'Porce/o/n  Pair"  Frigidaire  Aufomatic  Washer  and  Electric  Dryer 


Here's  why  Frigidaire  is  different!  One,  the  ex- 
clusive Select-O-Dial.  Two,  Live- Water  Wash- 
ing. Three,  the  continuous  Float-Over  Rinse. 
Four,  the  amazing  Underwater  Suds  Distributor. 
Dirt  cara'i  stand  up  against  this  competition! 


So  —  see  your  Frigidaire  Dealer.  Look  for  his 
name  in  the  Yellow  Pages  of  your  phone  hook. 
Or  for  free  descriptive  folder,  write  f  rigidaire 
Division  of  General  Motors,  Dept.  2056,  Dayton  1, 
Ohio.  In  Canada,  Toronto  13,  Ontario. 


Frigidaire  Automatic  Washer 

Built  and  backed  by  General  Motors  ^^P/ 


See  how 
mother's  most 
delicate  fabrics  wash 
new-bright! 


Frigidaire's  exclusive  Live-Water  Action 
gets  all  the  dirt  from  all  the  wash — 
even  the  new  "miracle  fabrics"! 

Frigidaire's  exclusive  Select-O-Dial  actually  lets  you  fol- 
low instructions  for  washing  any  washable  fabric.  You 
can  shorten  or  eliminate  any  cycle — get  safe,  sure  results 
every  time.  It's  even  easy  to  wash  the  new  miracle  fabrics, 
such  as  Orion,  Dacron,  Nylon. 

So  safe — because  it's  so  gentle! 

Clothes  wash  wondrously  clean  in  vour  Frigidaire.  Live- 
Water  washing  action  forces  suds  through  every  fiber  of 
every  piece — flushing  away  the  smallest  speck  of  dulling, 
deep-down  dirt.  Of  course,  clothes  are  always  in  water — 
never  half  in,  half  out. 

And  the  new,  continuous  Float-Over  Rinse,  actually 
starts  to  work  before  the  washing  cycle  is  finished.  It  traps 
loosened  dirt  in  suds — lifts  it  up — floats  it  out.  No  dirt 
drains  back  through  your  clean  clothes.  No  soap  remains 
to  dull  your  wash.  All  this  without  harsh,  wear-causing 
rub  and  scrub! 

Damp-dries  more  thoroughly  than  any  other  washer! 

Your  Frigidaire,  with  its  exclusive  Rapidry  Spin,  takes 
out  far  more  water  than  any  other  washer  —  whether 
wringer,  spinner,  or  squeezer.  Manv  pieces  are  ready  for 
immediate  ironing — others  require  far  less  drying  time 
than  usual.  Then  this  amazing  washer  drains  itself,  cleans 
itself,  shuts  itself  off — your  hands  never  touch  water!  See 
the  washer  Arthur  Godfrey  recommends  on  his  daytime 
TV-radio  show.  It  s  at  your  Frigidaire  Dealer's  now! 


See  the 
Prestoe  -  matic 
Ironer,  tool 


Has  easy-to-use  automatic  foot  control  that 
cuts  ironing  time  in  half.  Open-end  roll,  2- 
speed  control,  adjustable  Heat  Selector.  Re- 
lax while  you  iron!  Make  it  easy  on  yourself 
the  dependable  Frigidaire  way. 


M  I 


II       N       V  I 


A  warm  sun,  (lie  lirsl  swelling;  ImkIs,  ami  a 
jdippy  on  the  wcl  lawn.  April  ami  iIm- 
air  has  llic  sharp,  clean  mmi-II  iilfarh  sprin^i. 


By  GLADYS  TABER 


iS  I  look  out  my  new  window  at  the 
/l.  greening  April  land.  I  cannot  help  re- 
llecting  how  little  can  lead  to  how  much! 
As  in  most  houses  built  in  1690  or  even 
1790,  one  room  was  very  dark.  My  room. 
In  winter  I  turned  the  lamps  on  after  lunch; 
in  summer  I  turned  them  on  in  the  blue 
dusk  of  evening.  And  so,  after  all  these 
years,  it  seemed  a  very  nice  idea  to  add  just 
one  small  window,  if  it  did  not  hurt  the  his- 
torical feeling  of  the  house  itself. 

Secretly  I  yearned  for  a  bay  for  my 
African  violets,  but  Steve  looked  through 
every  known  authority  and  said  firmly,  no. 
Bays  were  just  not  known  in  the  period  of 
this  house.  One  small-paned  window  would 
fit. 

So  Cliff  Hirsch  came  over  and  measured. 
Went  down  cellar  to  check  on  the  beams. 
He  didn't  want  the  house  to  let  out  a  tuck 
or  two  when  he  added  the  window.  When 
he  came  out  of  the  deep  damp  underpin- 
nings, he  asked  us  to  sit  down.  His  voice 
was  gentle,  much  like  a  family  doctor  when 
he  is  going  to  tell  you  you  must  have  some- 
thing  out.  "I  hate  to  tell  you,  I  don't  want 
to  make  you  nervous."  said  Cliff,  "but  the 
sills  are  rotten!" 

It  seemed  that  after  supporting  the 
house  and  all  the  gadgets  we  have  added 
such  as  clothes  washers  and  dishwashers, 
the  sills  gave  up.  Or  maybe  when  a  new 
Administration  was  in,  the  house  felt  it, 
too,  should  have  a  change !  We  all  had  hot 
coffee  and  Cliff  gently  went  on  to  say  that 
much  of  the  wiring  was  green  with  corro- 
sion. Some  of  the  wiring  (Civil  War,  no 
doubt )  was  the  kind  that  hadn't  even  been 
made  for  twenty  years.  We  were  living  on 
an  unexploded  volcano  I  thought,  and  so 
innocent  and  gay  all  this  time ! 

We  had  planned  a  small  trip  to  look  at 
neighbors  in  other  parts. 

"There  goes  our  trip,  under  the  house," 
said  Jill,  darkly  and  very  Scotch. 

Ensued  a  small  and  violent  upturning  of 
everything.  Plaster  dust,  I  find,  lays  a  level 
of  glue  over  every  stick  of  furniture.  Crash- 


ing and  banging  in  the  cellar  kept  me  run- 
ning to  see  who  was  mashed  to  bits. 

The  old  house  shuddered  like  a  ship  in 
hurricane  waters.  Bureaus  tilled  suddenly, 
lamps  fell  The  sound  of  men's  cheerful 
voices  rose  above  the  din— beginning  at 
eight  in  the  morning.  Between  screechings 
of  tools  and  grinding  of  rotten  beams  rose 
the  sound  of  folk  singing.  Popping  up,  gray 
with  earth,  Cliff  brought  an  Indian  stone, 
shaped  and  chipped  to  make  a  firm  tool  for 
skinning  game.  He  also  emerged  with  a 
two-tincd  fork,  thrust  back  of  a  sill.  Small 
and  rusty,  il  seemed  like  a  special  gift  from 
the  builder  of  the  house.  "And  what  did  he 
look  like?"  asked  Chfif  "I  keep  wonder- 
ing." 

Foundations  are  pretty  important,  I  de- 
cided, as  Jill  nearly  fell  through  the  floor 
in  her  bedroom.  I  always  loved  the  old 
hymn,  "How  firm  a  foundation,  ye  saints 
of  the  Lord,  is  laid  for  your  faith  in  His 
excellent  word!"  I  found  myself  singing  it 
loudly  as  I  rescued  the  broken  fish  bowl. 

Everything,  I  think,  needs  secure  foot- 
ing, from  international  relationships  to 
marriage.  Many  a  marriage  might  be  saved 
by  a  timely  look  at  what  it  was  built  on. 

Extra  dividends  comfort  us  for  the  end- 
less sifting  dust,  the  howl  of  limbers.  Cliff 
found  an  old  flat  stone,  weathered  and 
wise,  and  laid  it  for  an  extra  doorstep.  For 
years  I  have  labored  up  and  down  a  steep 
obviously  designed  for  a  gazelle.  Now  I  step 
easily  and  lightly.  Also  he  cut  the  legs 
down  on  Don's  antique  four-poster,  de- 
signed for  ropes  and  a  feather  bed ,  modem 
springs  and  mattress  made  it  like  a  tower. 

Al  made  a  new  curtain-rod  support  in  a 
jiffy  so  we  could  give  up  adhesive  tape  as  a 
decorative  aid. 

Lighting  is  a  thing  we  tend  to  neglect, 
too,  in  old  houses  Or  in  new  ones,  for  that 
matter.  One  extra  light  tucked  in  our  cellar- 
way  is  pure  joy.  A  few  extra  sockets  take 
care  of  spider  webs  of  extension  cords, 
lessen  fire  hazard  and  make  cleaning  so 
(Conlinui'd  on  Page  214) 


Now!  The  ease  of  indoor  drying 
without  h'nt  or  steamy  dampness ! 


No  lotingi 

No  rliilli<->li.ii.Li'l>  \<< 

nnit  iliiwii  uliiir*. 


No  tuggingl 

No  I'lIX",    IIM  l.lfl- 

glol  rliillim,  no  pllia. 


No  weather  worricfl 


Frigidaire's  new  Filtra-matic  Electric  Clothes  Dryer 
keeps  steamy  heat  and  sticky  lint  out  of  the  room! 


Now  dry  electrically —  thy  clothes  to 
sunshine  sweetness— just  by  touch- 
ing a  dial!  The  Frigidaire  Filtra-matic 
Dryer  makes  certain  that  everything 
will  dry  just  the  way  you  want  it  — 
damp-dry  for  ironing,  bone-dry  for 
storage.  Fits  anywhere  in  the  house  or 
apartment,  upstairs  or  down— be- 
cause this  startling  new  kind  of  dryer 
doesn't  give  off  lint  or  excessive  mois- 
ture. It  traps  the  over-humid  air  and 
sticky  lint  tiiat  cloud  up  windows  and 
walls,  and  coat  tables  and  floors.  And. 


it  docs  all  this  without  costly,  com- 
plicated e.xtra  plumbing  or  venting! 


EXCLUSIVE 
FRIGIDAIRE 
FIITRATOR 


All  porcelain  u  here  it  counts!  \^  hv  let 
rust  cut  down  the  life  and  beauty  of 
your  dryer?  Frigidaire  finishes  both 
cabinet  and  drum  in  rust-proof  Life- 
time Porcelain  for  looks  and  wear! 


Two  models  for  120  or  220  volt  current 


^  Frigidaire 

Filtra-matic  Dryer 

Built  and  backed  by  General  Motors 

See  these  outstanding  Electric  Dryers  at  your  Frigidaire  Dealer's  now.  Look  for 
his  name  in  the  Yellow  Pages  of  your  phone  book  or.  for  descriptive  literature, 
write  Frigidaire  Division  of  General  Motors,  Dept.  2067,  Dayton  1,  Ohio.  In 
Canada,  Toronto  13.  Ontario. 

Enjoy  Arthur  Godfrey's  daytime  show  on  TV  or  radio 


26 


LADIES'       H    ()    \1  K 


.1    ()    V    R    N    A  1,, 


April,  1953 


"Soax3ing"dulIs  hair_ 
HALO  glorifies  it ! 


Yes,  "soaping"  your  hair 
with  even  finest  liquid  or  cream  shampoos 
hides  its  natural  lustre  with  dulling  soap  film. 

Halo — made  with  a  special  ingredient — contains  no 
soap  or  sticky  oils  to  dull  your  hair.  Halo  reveals 

shimmering  highlights  .  .  ,  leaves  your  hair  M 
soft,  fragrant,  marvelously  manageable !  No 

special  rinses  needed.  Scientific  tests  / 
prove  Halo  does  not  dry . . .  does  not  irritate! 


Halo  glorifies  your  hair 

with  your  very  first  shampoo/ 


OltUEII  BI.A.^'K 


1  PATTERN  NUMBERS 

Namp 

(Please  Print) 

Strppt 

City  Zone 

A  Icgciicl  of  love  in  silver— Wallace's  Rose  Point! 

It  was  inspired  by  the  wedding  veil  of  quc^-ns,  the  Icf^cndary 
ose  Point  Lace.  Centuries  ago,  a  Venetian  nobleman  found  in  liis 
gardens  a  full-blown  rose,  enshrined  in  a  delicately  spun  web. 
challenged  his  finest  lace-makers  to  duplicate  it  and  Rosr  I'oini 
Lace  was  born -a  wedding  veil  for  his  bride.  In  Wallace's 
ose  Point  the  full-blown  rose,  surrounded  by  silver  pearls 
is  sculptured  in  sterling  by  famed  William  S.  Warren 
exclusive  "Third  Dimension  Beauty."  Like  every  Wallace 

"Third  Dimension  Beauty"  pattern  it  is 
a  masterpiece  — beautifully  formed  not  only 
in  front,  but  in  profile  and  back— giving 
lu  sterling  perfection  from  every  possible  view. 


ix  piece  place  selling;  of  l{t)\r  I'mnt,  $:I5.7!>.  Settings 
father  patterns  from  $:I5.75  to  $47.75 — all  prices  in- 
'ude  h'ederiil  Tax.  To  learn  where  you  can  buy  If  allace 
terling.call  11  estern  Union  by  number  and  ash  for  Operator 
5.  She  will  give  you  the  names  of  the  stores  nearest  you. 


Read  the  exciliiii*  design  stories  of  each 
Wallace  pattern  in  the  HS-page  hook 
"Treasures  in  Sterling."  It  also  contains 
many  helpful  tahle-selting  ideas.  Write 
(send  lOt*  to  cover  postage)  to  Wallace 
Silversmiths,  Department  133,  Wallingford, 
Connecticut. 


WALLACE 
STERLING 


ROMANCE  OF 


LACE  SILVERSMITHS    WALLINGFORD,  CON  NECTI C  UT  ...  Smce  78.35  ...  WA  L  L  AC  E  SILVERSMITHS.  TORONTO.  CANADA  c„n>x.,h.  ,912 


4' 
f 


4 


^>  ^^^^  -f^-t^^  ^  4-^  -f^        -f^  4>  >^  ^4  f4 


^4 


By  CLIFFORD  R.  ADAMS 

Ph.  D.,  Pennsylvania  Stale  College,  Department  of  Psycholo^ 


It's  easy  to  recognize  a  nagging  woman 

.  .  .  except  when  you  see  her  in  your  mirror. 


Niifificrs  Takr  llir  Joy 
( )iit  of"  Marri;iir«' 

EVERY  sensible  woman  deplores  the  habit 
of  nagging,  and  most  people  sympathize 
with  the  man  married  to  a  scolding  wife. 
Unfortunately,  the  habit  of  scolding,  while 
easily  identified  in  others,  is  not  so  easy  to  recog- 
nize in  yourself. 

One  of  the  most  common  grievances  discussed 
by  husbands  who  write  to  us  is  their  wives'  habit 
of  scolding.  The  frequency  of  the  problem  can 
be  judged  from  our  research;  fully  one  fourth  of 
the  marriages  investigated  are  made  less  happv 
by  the  wife's  habit  of  scolding.  Equally  disturb- 
ing is  the  additional  finding  that  scolding  is  a 
progressive  tendency. 

The  habit,  then,  is  easy  to  acquire,  hard  to 
recognize,  and  likely  to  grow  worse.  Part  of  the 
explanation  lies  in  the  nature  of  a  woman's  re- 
sponsibilities as  a  mother  In  the  day-to-day 
supervision  of  her  children,  it  is  repeatedly 
necessary  for  her  to  correct,  instruct,  rebuke  and 
command.  The  need  arises  so  often  that,  unless 
she  is  on  guard,  "Johnny,  don't!"  becomes  auto- 
matic, and  all  family  activities  are  attended  by  a 
running  accompaniment  of  direction  from 
mother.  If  she  is  tired,  harassed  or  pressed  for 
time,  her  voice  is  likely  to  become  harsh,  her 
words  sharp — and  her  listeners'  tempers  strained. 

After  a  trying  day  with  the  children,  it  is  a 
temptation  to  pour  out  her  complaints  to  her 
husband  at  night.  Or  perhaps  she  "takes  it  out" 
on  him  in  an  explosion  of  temper.  Such  an 
episode  may  temporarily  relieve  her  tension  and 
clear  the  atmosphere,  but  if  the  outbursts  are 
repeated,  the  reverse  is  true. 

For  the  habit  of  scolding  is  not  only  self- 
perpetuating  but  is  also  contagious.  The  hus- 
band who  is  constantly  goaded  by  a  scolding  wife 
will  eventually  start  scolding  back  in  self-defense. 
Nor  do  children  learn  consideration,  gentleness 
and  co-operation  in  an  atmosphere  of  bickering 
and  conflict.  Just  as  they  copy  table  manners, 
they  copy  other  forms  of  conduct.  If  they  are 
accustomed  to  loud  voices  and  angry  words, 
they  will  accept  them  as  normal — and  adopt 
them  themselves.  The  chronic  scold  may  have 
ample  provocation;  but  she  has  found  the  wrong 
solution.  For  the  more  she  scolds,  the  more  she 
aggravates  the  provocation  itself. 

Most  scolding  wives  could,  and  would,  im- 
prove their  behavior  if  they  were  aware  of  it.  II 
they  can  determine  the  reasons  why  they  scold, 
perhaps  they  can  treat  the  causes  of  the  problem 
as  well  as  the  symptoms.  The  underlying  factors 
are  difficult  to  identify,  but  physical  fatigue  i^ 
often  involved.  If  that  is  the  case,  perhaps  the 
schedule  can  be  improved,  the  aid  of  the  family  en- 
listed. Or  perhaps  some  tasks  can  be  left  undone. 
(The  scold  is  often  an  overzealous  housekeeper.) 

Again,  some  people  yield  to  temper  to  escape 
boredom.  If  a  young  wife  is  confined  to  the  house 


day  after  day  by  the  care  of  the  children,  small 
wonder  if  her  routine  sometimes  seems  monot- 
onous. The  wise  husband  will  see  to  it  that  she 
has  some  chance  for  change  and  relaxation. 

Whether  or  not  you  think  you  are  a  chronic 
scold,  why  not  check  up?  If  you  could  listen  to  a 
tape  recording  of  your  conversations  with  your 
husband  and  children,  what  would  you  expect  to 
hear? 

Try  being  your  own  recorder  for  a  day  or  two. 
Consciously  listen  to  yourself  as  you  talk  to  your 
husband  and  children,  trying  not  to  change  your 
normal  habits.  You  may  be  surprised  by  the  tone 
of  your  voice,  tiie  impatience  of  your  words — 
and  the  number  of  orders  you  give! 

Chronic  scolding  is  not  one  of  the  worst  hu- 
man offenses,  but  it  is  one  of  the  hardest  to  live 
with.  The  consequences  may  be  serious,  or  they 
may  be  minor,  but  they  are  always  unpleasant. 
In  "listening  to  yourself,"  perhaps  you  will  find 
that  you  sometimes  scold  more  often,  or  more 
severely,  than  necessary.  Scolding  probably 
won't  disrupt  your  marriage,  but  it  may  take  x\v 
bloom  off  a  day.  the  smile  off  a  face,  and  some  o( 
the  joy  out  of  life. 


Do  You  Enjoy  Life? 

Contentment  comes  from  the  spirit  and  atti- 
tude with  which  we  face  our  environment  rather 
than  from  circumstances  alone.  Your  happiness 
depends  far  more  on  yourself  than  on  others. 
Answer  these  questions  \es  or  no  in  terms  of  what 
you  think  is  true  most  of  the  time. 

Do  You: 

1.  Sometimes  fear  that  pectpltMloii't  like 

you? 

2.  Often  feel  downeast  and  unwante<l? 

3.  Think  that  you  are  unattrartiveil' 

i.  Feel  uneasy  with  new  aec|uainlance.s? 

5.  Dread  $;oin^  to  bed — and  getting  tip? 

6.  Dislike  your  pre.sent  living  arrange- 

ments? 

7.  Worry  excessively  over  small  matters? 

8.  LlsuaJly   wonder  if  your  elothes  he- 

come  you? 

9.  Find  your  work  dull  and  uninterest- 

ing? 

10.  Let  others  take  advantage  of  you? 

11.  Have  periods  of  feeling  lonely  and 

neglected? 

12.  Douht  that  the  future  will  be 

brighter? 

13.  Get  upset  and  easily  fIis<-oiiraged? 
11.  At  times,  think   thai   nobody  loves 

you? 

If  your  "No"  answers  total  ten  or  more,  your 
liippiness  rating  is  as  good  as  or  better  than 
that  of  the  average  woman  between  20  and  40. 
If  seven  or  fewer  questions  are  answered  "No," 
you  are  not  getting  the  most  out  of  life.  Mar- 
riage will  not  solve  your  problem  until  you  have 
changed  your  attitude  if  you  are  single,  nor  will 
divorce  if  you  are  married. 


Itc  Ka>>  to  l>i\4-  W  illi  and 
\\oi<l  I'  rictitiM 

TV/  E  all  know  some  individuals  who  seem  to 
V\  have  a  natural  gift  for  getting  along  with 
people.  In  the  close  association  of  an  office,  a 
community  project  or  shared  living  quarters, 
they  adapt  readily  not  only  to  the  circum- 
stances but  also  to  the  personalities  involved. 
Satisfying  human  relationships  in  everyday  con- 
tacts lend  zest  to  an  otherwise  drab  and  burden- 
some routine. 

But  the  ability  to  get  along  with  people  is  not 
just  a  natural  gift;  it  is  also  the  result  of  effort, 
training  and  experience.  Unfortunately,  many 
girls  grow  up  in  an  environment  wiiich  offers 
little  opportunity  or  incentive  to  learn  how  to 
get  along  in  close  association  with  others,  on  a 
basis  of  equality. 

The  woman  who  was  sheltered  and  indulged 
at  home,  who  was  never  "on  her  own"  in  busi- 
ness or  away  at  school,  is  unaware  of  the  "give- 
mJ-take"  basis  of  close  association  with  others. 
She  has  never  learned  to  overlook  a  roommate's 
untidiness,  an  office  mate  s  habit  of  "borrowing" 
supplies.  Nor  has  slie  learned  to  modify  her  own 
traits  and  habits  to  suit  them. 

When  two  individuals  share  living  quarters — 
whether  as  college  roommates,  children  at  home, 
or  husband  and  wife — the  routine  arrangements 
must  be  adapted  to  the  needs,  habits  and  prefer- 
ences of  both.  Otherwise  the  result  will  be  con- 
stant friction;  minor  annoyances  can  become 
major  grievances  on  repetition. 

Does  he  take  a  shower  just  when  you  need  all 
the  hot  water  for  laundry?  Object  when  you  pick 
up  the  magazines  he  left  by  his  chair  to  read 
later?  Splasii  your  drying  nylons  in  reaching  for 
his  towel?  Such  incidents,  though  trivial,  can  be 
troublesome  to  you.  But  perhaps  tlicy  are 
equally  annoying  to  him.  Perhaps  he  dislikes 
nylons  in  the  bathroom  just  as  you  dislike  un- 
tidy magazines  in  the  living  room. 

If  as  a  business  girl  you've  shared  an  apart- 
ment with  a  friend,  if  you've  had  roommates  at 
school  or  camp,  you've  encountered  similar 
petty  conflicts  before,  and  doubtless  adjusted 
them.  But  if  you're  not  accustomed  to  close 
associations,  and  find  your  husband  hard  to  live 
with,  you  may  be  judging  from  inexperience. 

The  essence  of  marriage  is  sharing,  and  the 
sheer  mechanics  of  living  offer  a  tangible  oppor- 
tunity to  learn  how.  Sharing  ideas  and  dreams  is 
stimulated  by  sharing  the  physical  comfort  of  a 
cup  of  coffee — even  when  you  have  to  divide  the 
last  cup. 

I  h>  Y  oil   \  >irvi- ''. 

In  the  last  ten  years,  hasn't  there  been  a 
serious  shortage  of  marriageable  men? 

No,  since  statistics  show  that  today  89  per 
cent  of  all  women  have  been  married  by  the 
time  they  are  29. 


^  -^^     >  -^^  ^>  ^-f  ^-f  >^  -^-^        ♦^^-f  4--^  4-  >^  ^4 


I    A    I)    I  I 


'        II     <  .     M     I  Jill      II     N     N  I 


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30 


Vontinui'tl  i-hmilinvss:  tair  iintl 
sunny  tomori^ur  it  ifon  knmr  hmr 

to  irvtithi'r  your  stormy  niooils. 


JULIE'S  world  came  to  an  end  at  exactly  four- 
thirty  Friday  afternoon.  There  wasn't  a 
chance  then  that  she'd  be  invited  to  CaFol's 
party.  Why  do  these  things  always  happen  to  me? 
she  thought  bitterly.  Life  is  just  one  huge  dis- 
appointment after  another.  And  the  more  she 
thought  about  life,  the  more  peeved  she  felt. 
Carol  has  a  grudge  against  me,  she  decided,  and 
is  jealous  because  her  old  "Butch"  happened  to  look 
at  me  once.  But  instead  of  becoming  more  furious 
at  Carol,  she  became  angry  at  herself.  Somehow 
I  should  have  proved  to  Carol  that  Vm  good  party 
material,  she  reasoned.  As  she  listed  her  short- 
comings, she  became  even  more  depressed.  77/ 
never  make  the  grade  with  the  gang.  I'm  a  disgrace 
to  my  family.  iThen  the  doorbell  rang.  It  was  Bill, 
hoping  she'd  be  free  for  a  movie.  If  Bill  likes  me, 
I  cant  be  too  horrible,  Julie's  heart  sang.  Perhaps 
he'll  ask  me  to  the  prom  .  .  .  perhaps  then  Carol 
will  leant  me  to  

Storm  l^'arninoH.  Because  Julie's  especially 
worried  about  her  difficulty  in  making  friends, 
she  gets  "moody"  every  time  she  hears  about  a 
party  she  hasn't  been  invited  to.  (Even  if  the 
hostess  is  practically  a  stranger  to  her!)  Other 
girls — and  boys,  natch — react  the  same  way  to 
a  poor  grade,  an  awkward  pause  in  the  conversa- 
tion, or  an  unexpected  look  at  themselves  in  a 
store  window.  ( Everyone  has  at  least  one  pet 
worry  that  is  the  mental  equivalent  of  a  tor- 
nado!) Sometimes,  too,  the  "jumpiness"  you  feel 
because  your  body  is  changing  rapidly  is  the 
reason  for  a  sudden  black  moment. 

Oontlt'iinil  Variuhli'  Wintlii.  Many  worries 
(your  height,  skin,  that  blush)  will  blow  over 
with  time.  Lots  of  your  moodiness  will,  too,  and 
you  don't  have  to  just  sit  around  and  wait  either! 


edited  by  Ruth 


Take  Julie,  for  instance.  Instead  of  moaning 
that  such  things  always  happen  to  her,  she  could 
wonder,  "Do  such  things  always  happen  to  me 
or  do  I  have  my  triumphs  too?  "  Instead  of  think- 
ing that  Carol  had  a  grudge,  Julie  could  con- 
sider the  reasons  why  any  hostess  is  forced  to 
limit  her  guest  list.  Instead  of  lamenting  that 
she  ll  never  make  the  grade  with  the  gang,  she 
could  decide  to  make  the  grade  with  some  gang 
of  her  choice.  Instead  of  dropping  her  problem 
into  a  daydream  about  Bill,  she  could  attempt 
to  solve  it.  And  so  can  you! 

CIvar  and  1'oitler.  You'll  get  a  clearer  and 
cooler  perspective  on  your  mood-causing  worry 
if  you  look  at  it  from  every  side.  Here's  a  way 
to  begin:  First  write  your  worry  down — as  ac- 
curately and  with  as  much  detail  as  you  possibly 
can.  Then  list  the  difficulties  that  prevent  you 
from  doing  something  about  changing  it.  Next 
list  the  books,  classes,  friends,  counselors,  your 
parents,  and  so  on,  who  might  be  able  to  help 
you.  Then  think  of  several  ways  of  eliminating 
the  worry  and  imagine  what  would  happen  if 
you  tried  each  way.  Then  decide  what  the  best 
ways  for  you  would  be,  and  get  busy  on  them! 

Let's  suppose:  Flunking  geometry?  Why  not  a 
talk  with  your  teacher,  or  a  new  study  schedule, 
or  both?  A  poor  figure?  Why  not  a  talk  with 
your  family  doctor,  the  gym  teacher — or  more 
carefully  selected  clothes?  Get  the  idea? 

lentil  Yan  ilare  Blue  SkieSf  Xnthina  Uut 
Blut>  Sliit'H  ...  There  are  plenty  of  real  reasons 
for  feeling  blue  at  times,  but  it's  a  mistake  to 
make  a  habit  or  an  excuse  or  an  act  out  of  a 
mood.  Often  by  doing  something  constructive 
you  can  pull  yourself  out  of  it.  Why  not  try: 

Whistling,  singing,  smiling,  and  pretending 
that  you  feel  cheerful? 

Cleaning  out  your  bureau  drawers? 

Visiting  a  sick  classmate? 

Writing  a  short  story? 

There  are  easier  ways,'  too:  go  to  a  movie,  go 
to  bed  early,  buy  a  new  blouse,  confide  in  a 
friend,  walk  a  mile  or  two,  read  a  new  book,  or 
run  for  the  first  cheerful  person  you  know! 


1)1  I 


.{i 


  I.OVKI.Y  WOODBl  RY  nUlDK 


Now  give  your  skin  that  fresh,  soap-and-water 
clean  look,  plus  the  petal-softness  you  expect  from 
fine  face  cream  care! 

You  can,  because  Woodbury  skin  scientists  have 
found  a  way  to  blend  seven  rich  face  cream  oils 
and  emollients  right  into  New  Vt'oodbury  Soap. 
Tiiese  softening  oils  are  intended  to  lielp  replace 
the  natural  oils  you  wash  away  with  old-fashioned 
soap  and  water  care. 

And  there's  other  deligiitful  news  in  New  Wood- 
bury Soap,  too!  Extra-ricli  billows  of  creamy 
lather,  an  exquisite  new  Sea-Spray  green  color, 


and  a  delicate,  lasting,  new  Bridal-Flower  fra- 
grance make  New  Woodbury  Soap  the  loveliest 
beauty  care  you  ever  tried. 

Look  for  New  \^oodbury  Soap  (in  both  bath  and 
complexion  sizes)  in  its  new  blue-and-white  wrap- 
per with  the  lovely  lady  and  her  mirror.  Then  let 
your  own  mirror  show  you  the  cleanest,  most 
radiant  complexion  of  your  life! 


L  A    n    I    E    S  '       HOME       ,T    O    U    R    N    A  L 


April,  1953 


Joyful  sslsds  Gtsrwg  Matures  most 


Cottage  cheese  and  canned  Pineapple  are  chums.  And  Pineapple's 
the  best  of  friends  with  other  fruits.  So  there's  no  end  to  the 
taste-exciting  salads  (desserts  and  main-course  dishes,  too!)  canned 

Pineapple  adds  to  eveiyday  menus.  Five  convenient  forms,  fruit 
cuts  and  juice,  help  liven  and  vary  your  menus.  And  canned  Pineapple 

is  good  for  health,  providing  quick  food  energy,  \'itamins 
and  minerals.  You'll  find  it  a  good  idea  to  keep  a 
"Pineapple  Shelf"  in  your  kitchen . . .  and  stock  it  two 

or  three  cans  deep  with  all  5  jorms  of  canned 
Pineapple  (more  families  already  have  canned  Pineapple 
on  hand  than  any  other  fruit).  To  j)erk  up  meals  from 
breakfast  to  bedtime  . . .  reach  often  for  a  can 
of  Nature's  most 
refresl 


CHUNKS 


TIDBITS 


if^r:^.  CRUSHED 


Pineapple  Growers  Assoctation 
San  Francisco 


"I  vnirt'tl  lliul 
irlirrrvi'r  ur  tnirrtctl 

I  trniiltl  liiithvr  n-viin's. 


irnl  of  a  Hcrios  of  roniiil-llic-^oild  favorllcs  from  (loriiiiir  (irillilli 


I  N  Ihc  days  when  Marlcnc  Dielricli 
L  inliodiiccd  women's  slacks  lo  a  star- 
led  world,  when  Norma  Shearer  buiU  a 
oundprool'ed  house  on  Ihe  rim  -and  a 
icated  swimniint;  pool  on  the  sand— of 
he  Paeilic  Ocean,  when  Greta  Garbo 
nade  ^aunlness  synonymous  with  Klam- 
lur  and  Gloria  Swanson  refused  lo  sign 
1  two-year  contract  for  $17,r)()0  a  week, 
md  Corinne  Griffith  (earning  a  paltry 
;U),()00  a  week)  was  in  private  life  Mrs. 
rValler  Morosco,  1  bouijht  a  yacht 
linety-nine  and  one  half  feet  Ions. 

The  Edris— that  was  her  name— was 
amous  for  havint;  sailed  lo  California 
rom  New  York  via  the  Horn,  and  for 
he  memorable  parties  yiven  aboard  her 
)y  her  former  owner,  motion-picture 
)roducer  Thomas  Ince. 

The  Edris,  painted  white  above  the 
vater  line,  green  below,  rechristened 
kVanderlust,  one  day  set  sail  for  Mexican 
A-aters.  F"ifty-two  hours  later  we  dropped 
mchor  in  the  Bay  of  Ensenada.  The 


hospitable  mayor  of  that  little  town 
of  unbelievable  blue  sky,  a  pale  pink 
jail  and  huge,  lose-colored  oleanders 
invited  us  to  be  his  guests  at  a  little 
cafe  whose  name  I  have  forgotten,  liul 
I  was  never  lo  forget  that  evening's 
magnificent  dinner,  or  the  cafe's  pro- 
prietor, Senor  Martinez. 

The  recipes  I  re(|uested  were  handed 
to  me  with  a  lk)urish,  by  candlelight. 
"You  should  gather  recipes  wherever 
you  go,"  suggested  Sehor  Martinez 
enthusiastically.  "Any  young  lady  who 
buys  a  sailing  boat  and  names  her  the 
Wanderlust  will  travel  far." 

"That  isn't  a  biid  idea,"  I  agreed, 
and  vowed  I  would  gather  them  and  — 
one  day— put  them  together  in  a  book. 

One  of  many  favorites,  gathered  in 
the  years  since,  is  a  veal  idea  everyone 
can  enjoy— regardless  of  geography.  It 
came  from  Jesse  Jones.  No  need  to  in- 
troduce him !  But  I  take  great  pleasure 
in  introducing  his  recipe. 


VKAL  AM)  SOI  l<  CREAM 
Wipe  a  3-poiind  shoulder  of  veal  with  a 
flainpclolh.  Place  in  heavy  Diiteh-oven- 
type  pail,  add  cold  water  lo  cover  and  I 
teaspoon  salt.  Simmer,  covered,  until 
lender,  about  2  hours,  removini;  foam  as 
il  forms.  Cut  meat  into  I  '  2"  eubes. 
W  a>h  '  2  pound  nuishrooms  and  cut  in 
hall.  Saute  '2  eup  chopped  celery,  I2 
cup  chopped  onions  and  nuishrooms  in 
14  cup  butter  or  margarine  until  light 
brown.  Set  aside.  Mix  2  tablespoons 
flour  with  2  tablespoons  water  to  make 
a  paste.  Add  to  2  cups  veal  broth  with  1 
teaspoon  salt  and  a  «lash  of  pepper. 
Cook  and  stir  until  thickened.  Place 
meat,  sauteed  vegetables  and  gravy  in 
1'  2-quart  casserole.  Bake  in  moderately 
hot  oven,  375°  F.,  for  15  minutes.  When 
finished,  cover  with  M  f"?  ^h'c'^ 
mercial  sour  cream.  Cut  6-8  strips  crisp 
bacon  crosswise;  sprinkle  on  top  of  sour 
cream.  Serves  4-6. 

•2     «  # 

My  first  visit  to  Margo's,  in  Paris  (a 
tiny  old  cafe  at  one  side  of  a  small 
square,  Place  du  Tertre,  in  Montmartre, 
close  to  the  famous  Sacre-Coeur)  was  on 
a  snowy  winter  night.  My  host  was  Sir 
Alexander  Ivorda;  his  guest  of  honor. 
Lady  Furness.  She  wore  her  famous 
black  pearls.  The  dinner,  ordered  in  ad- 
vance, consisted  of  a  thick,  typical 
"soup  du  jour"  with  great  slabs  of 
steaming,  golden  marrow;  crisp  French 
rolls  with  curls  of  creamy-colored  but- 
ter; a  chicken  casserole;  and  asparagus 
served  as  the  French  serve  it— an  en- 


Copvriglit,  l)y  Corinne  Griffith.  Corinne 

Griffith-8  Cookhoolc  is  from  licr  fortticoming 
lioolt.  Eggs  I  Have  Known. 


tirely  separate  course.  Followed  by  the 
spkialilc  (k  la  maison.  Creme  Margo. 

CHKMi;  MA !{<;(> 

Beat  4  egg  yolks  until  light  in  color. 
Heat  2  cups  heavy  cream  lo  boiling 
point:  siimuer  I  mimilc.  Pour  over  liealen 
egg  yolks.  Hclurn  lo  lo«  heal  and  cook, 
stirring  constantly  milil  jn^'l  thickened. 
Pour  into  8"  ovenproof  shallow  <-asserole. 
Set  on  ice  to  cool.  I.el  chill  for  at  least  6 
hours  in  refrigerator,  overnight  if  pos- 
sible. 

One  hour  before  serving,  sprinkle 
thickly  with  '2  eup  brown  sugar.  Put 
under  broiler  (>"  away  from  heal  until 
sugar  starts  lo  melt.  Take  out.  Ketiirn 
to  refrigerator.  Crack  sugar  coaling  with 
spoon  before  serving.  This  will  emerge 
smooth  as  velvet  in  texture.  >\ith  a 
thin  coating  of  crusty  caramel  on  top. 

•     •  Q 

Fay  Kanin  wrote  and  her  husband 
produced  Good-by,  My  Fancy,  with 
Madeleine  Carroll  and  Conrad  Nagel. 
One  night  backstage  after  the  evening 
performance  Fay  served  the  following 
dish.  Excellent  for  after-theater  fare  - 
but  also  excellent  foi  dinner  or  lunch: 

I  AV  S  KANCV 

Brint'  2  cans  condensed  beef  coiisoiiimc 
and  an  ecpial  quantity  of  water  to  a 
boil:  drop  in  I  pound  fine  noodles.  Cover 
and  simmer  iinlil  consomme  is  absorbed, 
about  I2iiiinulcs.  Meantime  sliver  and 
toast  '2  eup  blanched  almonds.  When 
noodles  are  done,  add  I4  cup  butler  or 
margarine  aiul  2' 2  tablespoons  poppy 
seeds.  Sprinkle  almonds  on  top  just  be- 
fore serving.  Serves  10-12. 


^^^^B  This  is  the  super-chicken 

^B^^  that's  specially  bred,  fed 
and  tenderly  cared  for 
.  .  .  that  reaches  frying  size  a  -\vhole 
month  sooner  than  ordinary 
chicken.  Each  bird  is  cleaned  to 
perfection  .  .  .  then  rushed  to  market 
fast-chillcd  on  ice  .  .  .  to  assure 
you  all  the  flavor  of  springtime  the 
vear  around.  Look  for  it  .  .  .  dis- 
played on  ice  or  under  rcfrigera,- 
lion  at  your  dealer's.  He  also  has 
it  cut  up  and  tray-packed  for 
your  convenience. 

Join  the  "Breakfast 
Club"  Wednesdays  over 
ABC.  8  to  9  A.M..  C.S.T. 


SWIFT'S 
PREMIUM 

U\jyt  QJXmaJI  ijudz^i ) 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


! 


SCIENCE  REPORT 


They  gave  mankind  new  hope 


Men  of  science  and  industry 

work  together  to  produce  better  health 


RECENT  WINNERS  OF  THE  NOBEL  PRIZE  FOR  MEDICINE 


1945 

Sir  Alexander  Fleming 
shared  award  with 
Ernst  Boris  Chain  and 
Sir  Howard  Florey 
for  discovery  of  Penicillin. 


1950 

Philip  S.  Hench  and 
Edward  C.  Kendall, 
joint  award  with 
Tadeus  Reichstein 
for  work  on  adrenal 

cortex  hormones, 
including  Cortisone. 


1952 

Selman  a.  Waksman, 
whose  work  led 
to  the  discovery 
of  Streptomycin. 


Winners  of  the  Nobel  Prize  for  Physiology  and  Medicine 
are  richly  rewarded  by  the  knowledge  that  their  scientific 
discoveries  have  restored  millions  of  people  to  better 
health.  Close  teamwork  between  science  and  industry 
produced  these  test-tube  discoveries  in  plentiful  quantity 
so  that  physicians  now  have  more  efficient  drugs  to  fight 
disease. 

Penicillin,  cortisone,  and  streptomycin  have  proved  so 
beneficial  to  mankind  that  they  have  won  Nobel  Prizes 
for  their  discoverers.  Cortisone  and  streptomycin  were 
first  developed  and  manufactured  in  large  quantities  by 
Merck,  who  made  important  contributions  also  in  the 
development  of  penicillin. 

To  seek  still  more  effective  drugs  that  will  help  physicians 
bring  better  health  to  more  people  at  lower  cost  is  the 
basic  objective  of  the  continuing  Merck  research  and 
production  program. 


Research  and  Production 

for  the  Nations  Health 


I'l  IUJ<:  AITAIKS  l>i;i'\|{  I  Ml  N  I 

luliH  il  hy 

l\l AK<; AKI  l  IIH.KKY 


Auxiliary  Nurses  JNeedcil 

i{y  mah(;ai{i:t  iiickky 

BKDSIDI-;  care  for  llic  ill  is  becoiiiiiif;  incrciisiiif;;ly  diHi- 
cull  lo  ohlain.  To  meet  tlu:  iimls  of  ilicir  [(alicnls, 
li(i,s|iitals  are  making  use  of  auxiliary  workers  of  all  ly|ics: 
paid  praelieal  nurses  and  nursing  aides  and  some  2()(),()()() 
volunteer  Red  (Iross  aides. 

Tiiese  women  are  helping  the  graduate  professional 
nurses  anti  the  student  nurses  who  always  have  (■arricd 
on  this  work.  Nursing  aides,  for  example,  hel|)  with  care  of 
the  patient  so  that  the  regular  nursing  stalf  may  he  free  for 
more  exacting  nursing  work.  Aides'  duties  include  simple 
hedside  services  such  as  cleanitig,  answering  jiatietils' 
calls,  assisting  with  shampoos  and  l)aths,  drcssitig  and  un- 
dressing, and  feeding.  They  also  may  watch  restless  pa- 
tients, supjiort  the  patient  receiving  treatment  and  care, 
bring  and  lake  away  recreational  ecjuipment.  The  practical 
nurse,  on  the  other  hand,  is  trained  to  care  for  convales- 
cents, less  acutely  or  chronically  ill  patients,  and  to  assist 
the  professional  nurse  in  a  team  relationship. 

Nursing  organizations  are  taking  stock  of  practical 
nurses  and  the  new  paid  nursing  aides  in  care  of  the  sick. 
They  believe  all  workers  must  he  trained  lor  the  job  and 
have  a  genuine  interest  in  their  patients.  Two  pamphlets 
issued  by  the  Committee  on  Practical  Nurses  and  Auxil- 
iary Workers  in  Nursing  Services  will  be  of  interest  to 
women's  organizations,  vocational  counselors  and  girls 
preparing  for  nursing. 

Several  organizations  already  are  active  on  nursing  proj- 
ects. In  San  Antonio,  Texas,  the  Altrusa  Club  took  the 
lead.  Through  members'  efforts,  a  vocational-training  pro- 
gram for  practical  nurses  was  established  in  the  city's 
school  systems  three  years  ago.  The  first  program,  for 
qualified  women  aged  18  to  55,  was  put  into  operation  at 
the  San  Antonio  Vocational  and  Technical  High  School. 
A  similar  course  has  been  started  for  Negro  girls  and  women 
at  St.  Philip's  College.  Botli  are  supervised  by  the  local 
and  state  school  authorities  and  are  affiliated  with  approved 
hospitals  in  the  city.  The  training  prepares  women  for  ex- 
aminations required  under  the  new  state  law  to  license 
practical  nurses.  In  Michigan,  the  Lansing  Practical  Nurse 
Center,  sponsored  by  the  Junior  League  and  four  other 
civic-minded  organizations,  is  training  85  students  a  year 
in  laboratory  work,  hospital  procedure  and  home  nursmg. 

To  help  ease  the  nursing  shortage  and  at  the  same  time 
start  girls  on  a  nursing  career,  educational  programs  now 
are  under  way  in  New  York  City  schools:  150  girl  seniors 
in  five  high  schools  are  paired  in  work-study  teams;  each 
student  spends  two  weeks  working  at  a  hospital  as  a  nurs- 
ing aide  while  her  partner  is  at  school.  The  girls  alternate 
every  two  weeks,  so  the  hospital  job  is  always  covered  1  hey 
work  under  professional  supervisors  in  the  hospitals  and 
receive  the  prevailing  wage  for  nursing  aides.     THE  END 


Teen-age  volunteers  fill  in  as  aides  and  learn  firsthand  about 
nursing  as  a  career  in  a  Chicago  baby  clinic.  The  girls-m 
white  aprons-wa.t  happily  to  weigh  these  appeahng  mfants. 


'  l\  j  t  |{.S|-i,  wlirn  's  iiiiiintriy  y  "  uikeil  the  hiiiuII  ho)  iii  laiicii  hroMii 
1.  1  roiii|)<TH.  J.iiK-i  |iirkril  hiH  crayon  iNiuk  ufT  tlic  floor  and  Hinili*<l. 
SIic'h  in  llir  (ilhcr  rmiin  with  your  lialiy  lirotlier."  "In-  lold  ilu- 
silling  lelliiw.  "She'll  he  rij^lil  haek."  Janet  wan  junt  (ifle-en  and  lik<'d 
lirinf;  called  '  ninse  "  Hoinelimirit  hy  ihe  i  hildn-n  wlm  luiinf  with  llicir 
rniilhiTH  to  llie  wcll-hahv  elinii-.  Aein.dly.  ^he  was  a  HunmiiT  vidun- 
tecr  ill  the  (!hi(a;;(i  Urallli  Ocparlinrnl  -  irdani  wi  lfarf  -lalion  in  lu  r 
neif^hlii ii  lie II  1(1  p.irk  fiidd  linn'^i-. 

I'(»r  llic  past  three  ^nrniner'<  ^M;^ll-He||(llll  girN  h.ive  hern  hlhng  in 
as  aides  a  I  ( ihieaf^o's  elinies  w  ilhonl  pay.  V  acation  is  a  lime  h  hen  nuol 
students  are  thinking  ahoni  earning  extra  pocket  money,  hul  the>.e 
girls  have  Idund  thai  tin-  work  id  a  volunteer  jiays  ofT  too.  There's  lh«" 
good  feeling  that  tin  y  re  "doing  their  hit  "  to  relieve  the  nursing 
shorlagc.  And  the  im|)orlant  l<  eling  that  ihey  re  learning  firsthand 
about  nursing  as  a  career. 

Kighl  alter  exams  were  over  al  the  end  nl  Jiine^  Janet  rejxtrteil  to 
the  central  clinic  with  more  than  sixty  other  girl.s  for  two  days  cd 
training  under  the  direction  of  puhlic-health  nurses.  They  were  first 
given  rigid  health  examinations,  which  includsd  nose  and  ihnial  cul- 
tures, hlood  tests  and  chest  X  rays.  This  over,  they  were  ready  for  work. 

In  class  they  learned  how  lo  weigh  the  babies  and  greet  mothers. 
Everyone  took  part. 

'  I  his  will  give  me  enough  credits  to  he  a  Mariner  Scout,"  a  shy, 
tall  girl  whispered  lo  Janet  during  the  instruclion  period.  The  Girl 
Scouts  and  the  P. T.A.  were  two  of  the  organizations  thai  helped  the 
Volunteer  Mureau  publicize  the  program. 

"I  don't  know  what  we  d  have  done  without  them,  '  the  supervisor 
al  one  of  the  stations  said.  Janet  not  only  helped  out  at  the  clinic 
but  came  in  lo  do  clerical  work  on  Monday  mornings  loo."  There  was 
one  student  who  relieved  a  practical  nurse  for  important  duties  at  the 
main  clinic  every  Friday  morning.  The  (Continued  on  Page  I67) 


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Fifty  Years  Ago 
in 

the  Journal 


I'y\\K  (Jcrmaii  Kiiim-r  iiti- 
iKiiiiU'cd  in  Vpril,  "I 
III  l'!iii|M'r<>r  hy  mi  iiiiiiiiiliiMc 
i-cnM-  of  ( rcxi."  rilc  (iivorilc  hoii^ 
full  liarlMTsliop  «iiiiirl»'ls,  Swot't 
(Icliiic,  wiiH  wrillfii,  and  New 
ork  s  snhway  Hyslcni  l)e<;nii. 

Nrxl  >«'ar  I  lie  WorUI's  I'  air  «ill 
ix-ii  ill  Si.  I.oiiis,"  aiin<>iiiii'<'> 
lit'  \|>ril.  I'XKt.  JOdlOJ "Il 
ill  <Mi\<'r  a  s|>a<'f  a  mile  lon^ 
ikI  Iuo  milt's  uiilf.  I  lit-rt-  will 
f  flt'fl rit-al  tiiN|ila>s  t>n  lanti 
iitl  walt-r,  aiitl  a  ^rt-al  i-tiiilcMl 
f  ilyinK  inat-liiiif  s." 

'  I'lltliiin  I'tiqiii'ttr :  "  Thr  /wcriiif' 
ml  i>i'V[>iitfi  (luring  tlw  i  fivintiiiy. 
■hispcriiifi.  ntdtnliiifi  on  church 
iissoclis,  ami  iiiakiiiil  criticdt  rc- 
Kirks  about  the  incmhrrs  of  the 
•t'ttilinti  are  cviili'iiccs  of  loir  hrvvil  ■ 
ij>  and  a  coarse  iKitnre,"  rules  the 
,ad\  from  Philudelithia. 


4M»NNi|l  llbttUi 

KalllorM  ynu  Ilk*'. 
iiit«l  wliiii  |(«»«>M  «»n 

In  >«•«%  1  «»rl4 


II    k<'\  .mil  llr    KolH-rt  J.i<  L'oiii  .in-  (lM.irlr.1  liy  ihr  uJI 
I'tirn  iKiH  ^roHinK  in  liiilia    llianLn  lii  inlfrrnalionol  co-o|i«ralion 


"YY  ll\l  art'  all  lli.i.t'  l.riitlil 
T?  palt'lit'H  t>r  t'tiltir  tin  llit- 
Kri>niitl?"  Maruarel  llicl,e\  ankftl  an 
Intlian  It'lliiu  iiaxHt'iiut-r.  an  tlit-y 
ufi'f  ll>in(z  ill  tt>u<irtl  l>fllii.  "Why. 
tlicy'rc  saris,  l>  iii(- tiiil  t>ii  llit-lawnM 
lo  dry."  Anil  lalt-r,  tliiriiiu  lit-r  sluy 
in  Intlia  tin  litT  Sialt'  ilt'|iart  int-nl 
niissit»ii  lor  I  lit*  I ii I t'riiat  iiiiial 
\'t'lti|iint'nl  Vtl\istir> 
Kttartl.   slit-  It-ariiftl 


We  went  ovor  to  llic  Waldorf  lunch- 
con  al  which  Itamlhy  Tlumiimnn 
was  ^'ivin  the  C'hrislopliLT  nicdallion 
by  Fuihvr  Keller  for  luT  now-famous 
article  in  last  October's  JoURNAi.. 
called  A  Reason  to  Live  and  a  Reasfin 
lo  Die.  I  lere  you  see  her  taking  it  from 
Father  Keller  over  the  heads  of  two 


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For  your  own  sobscr/pf/ons 


tit  I  iruiftifi,  fj  /Hifhttue  iif  Itiettt-  in-t- 
nt'i'tlt  in  inmiii-ft  It  till  el  fry  liiittlilig 
mill  /inliiiiu  liifitie,  ttilh  mimiili  in- 
mnirliiinx  jitr  itluiilh$0. 

Sponlaneily  is  llie  spice  of  life,  nun  ir 
this  tnonlh's  corer.  Jusl  1$  iUn-ln 
C.iiMlimitn  was  alxiul  ta  lake  the  photo- 
Uraph  of  Clorin  Slu-un-r  in  the  im- 
ported Italian  red  straw  hat.  a  alrunii 
g,usl  of  wind  swept  the  ffermuda  ditck. 
Gloria,  clutching  Ihe  halbrim  in  the  nick 
of  lime,  gave  Wilhela  this  perfect  pose. 

In  I'alni  Itfurli  rf<'fntl>,  Hieliorit 
/ie.iiiiu,  Jr.,  inaiiaKt'r  of  I  lif  atlti-r- 
I  isiiic  (It'iiarl  nit-nl  i>(  I  In-  .lOLKN  M.. 
\«  li(»  t-aii'l  rt'Hi*.t  ImmiIv*.)  iirt-...  il n>p|M-f I 
ill  !iir  il  liriiusf  at  lli<-  fiiit-.*!  mit'  tiii 
\\  Drill  \\t'iiiii-.  It  li:ifl  a  M  i(*i|trv«  <li-- 
l>hi>  i>r  riift.lil  liT  anil  llit-  (.kIiI.  anil 
<  >iaii I .  "llou  is  <,li I  it-r  anil  ( >i>lil  ilii- 
irii:?"  -Mr.  /.  askcti  tlif  uiifiian  in 
iliiirtii*.  "<  )r  I'lMirHf  t'\ fry  ImmI  \  titiM  ii 
lit-rf's  rt-adiim  it.**  slif  ttilil  liiin. 
"What  alMiiil  (,iant?**  "Oil.  llial's 
out' t>f  tnir  M'r>  l>i'«t  st  lltTs.'*  "Wfll. 
liti\t  tin  \tiii  lliiiik  I' abiiltiiis  Fiiniiy 
\*ill  tlt»''"  "Say,  nt»M .  lislrn!  ^  mi 
iiiiisl  Im-  tin  the  JOL'KN\i..  That's 
^«lit-rt'  all  ihti'^t'  runic  tiiil  first.  .  .  . 
\ii>lit>\%,  as  Idiis  as  y»ii  art-.  1*11  tfll 
\fiii  siiiiit-t  liiii^.  llitiii:^li  I  |»rtil*al>l> 
slKMiltln'l  :  aliinist  t'\t'r>  %«i>niaii  \t  lio 
ft  nil  t-s  ill  lit-rt'  f'tir  il  iMitik  asks  if  it  has 
lit  t'ii  ill  tht' .lOLRNAL.  The  JqLRN.\L 
has  piihlishftl  s«>  nianv  "r~  ~~ 
they  fot'l  if  i'" 

young  man  was  married,  I 
l^'^^'jund  him  at  sunup  in  a  imi  -o._.ie  which  spread  off  from  Broken 
,1        Gully.  Rich  purple  violets:  his  strong  brown  hands  were  full  of 
them,  and  it  was  something  strange  for  me  to  confront  Benjy 
burdened  with  posies  in  the  damp  sweet  gloom  of  early  morning, 
when  I  was  hunting  for  a  hound  I  d  lost. 
I  stared:  it  couldn't  be  helped,  for  at  times  he  wore  a  silent  men- 
:e  in  his  spirit.  He  was  not  the  type  to  go  a-flower-picking  when 

there  were  chores  waiting  on  the  farm. 
1,"  he  said,  and  held  the  bouquet  up  to  show  me.  (Continued  on  Page  136) 

t.  I')5.l,  hy  M.irKinlty  Kantnr.  Tlii?  i*  .1  CH>nHmKilion  of  the  nnvtA  .«non  to  tie  publblteil  by  Raotloin  Honfe. 


ir  /ien  C.aiiKlen  ntnl  Henjy  came  hack,  there  iras  that  >anie  hairy 
.•iiivuiie  j'li.s*  oiilsiile  the  tcire.  fairly  heuiliiig  for  riitleat  punish  ineiit . 


i  of  Bob  Considine  and  Clare  Luce, 
pson  receives  the  Christopher  award. 

ither  recipients:  'Ifjb  CniisuHne.  of 
nternational  "nd  Clare  ItiMtthe 
Aice.  We'«-^^^een  ti.^en  one  of  the 
ncdalliorolets.  First  spV.  showed  us 


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Thei)  were  tough-minded  passionate  people,  but  theij  could  break  the! 


Freeze  shelves  irte?^I^^^^^^^^P^ni  saje 

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anism/?///i  5-Year  Food  Warranty  included  in  the  modest  5 
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NORGE  Jet  Self-D-Froster  REFRIGERATOR-defrosts  itself 

matically  every  night— so  fast  even  ice  cream  stays  firn 
scores  of  conveniences  including  adjustable  shelf  space, 
Keeper,  full-width  Crisper  and  Freezer  Chest.  Butter,  egg: 
and  bottles  can  be  stored  right  in  the  door  with  no  sacri 
shelf  space.  It's  a  beauty  and  a  bargain.  Model  illustrated,  $3 
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My  name  is  Baker  Royster,  and  my  father  used  to  go  Iiill-topping  with 
Benjy  and  Springfield  Davis.  I  went  along.  The  majority  of  us  folks  in 
that  Missouri  country  were  people  who  appreciated  the  spout  of  flames 
in  a  wood  fire,  when  hounds  were  making  music  across  the  hills. 
You  couldn't  surround  a  fire  and  you  couldn't  breed  and  run  hounds  together 
among  those  pretty  verdures — not  for  years  on  end,  as  we  did — without  knowing 
one  another  inside  and  out:  muscle,  purse  and  heart  as  well. 

Thus  I  realized  what  made  Benjy  Davis  tick,  in  those  years  when  of  necessity 
he  never  mentioned  the  name  of  the  girl  he  had  grown  to  love.  In  a  gayer  season, 
and  with  relief,  I  stood  beside  him  when  he  was  joined  to  Camden  Terry;  following 
on,  there  waxed  the  private  tendernesses  and  beauties,  the  little  blissful  things 
which  they  observed  between  them. 

Take  violets.  First  springtime  after  that  young  man  was  married,  I 
found  him  at  sunup  in  a  flat  ravine  which  spread  off"  from  Broken 
Gully.  Rich  purple  violets:  his  strong  brown  hands  were  full  of 
them,  and  it  was  something  strange  for  me  to  confront  Benjy 
burdened  with  posies  in  the  damp  sweet  gloom  of  early  morning, 
when  I  was  hunting  for  a  hound  I'd  lost. 
I  stared:  it  couldn't  be  helped,  for  at  times  he  wore  a  silent  men- 
ace in  his  spirit.  He  was  not  the  type  to  go  a-flower-picking  when 
there  were  chores  waiting  on  the  farm. 
"Camden,"  he  said,  and  held  the  bouquet  up  to  show  me.  (Continued  on  Page  136) 


lllit.  mi,  hy  M.ic  Kinl.iy  K.i 


1  to  W  publi5li.;cl  by  Raiido 


}\  lirn  CmiikU'ii  ami  llenjy  came  back,  there  tvas  dial  sarite  hairy 
.sMWi^e  jitsi  oiilsUle  llie  wire,  fairly  begging  for  riulesl  pimishinetil . 


y/c/or/r/  /,///( o/// 


II  VN.iM  .imithiT  WdiM,  liiit  II  wim  \\\v 
•^MWV  Wcil  lil,  (lllKid  (  [iii.lnlfir  WilH  l*ri-«- 

I'li'iil,  .111(1  III  ll.ilv  i\  in.iii  ii.iiiii'il  Miis«ii. 
Iiiii  li.nl  riiiiii-  mill  |Mi>M'i  .  W  I  ilnl  iml 
n  ail  llir  |i.i|)(  i>.  \\  f  xliiii^li  il  iiiii  lii  MiK, 
anil  liiiiiiiil  mir  ynuti^  lin-a^^ls  flut,  ami 
riiincalnj  ihc  VMiiiiaii  riirvc  of  wuisi  uml 
lii|i  ill  sark-^liaiicil  liri-sMCH,  Hliurl  lo  lli<- 
knee;  ami  we  liinl  tn  limk,  clcvrr  ami 
ciiiil,  ami  as  if  wi-  IkuI  lasiiij  lilr  .iinl 
fiiumi  it  stale. 

Hill  ill  spriiif;,  the  Irci-s  raiin'  iiiln  li  al. 
ami  we  walkfil  liy  ilic  rivrr  ami  liranl  llir 
iiuirsli  |icr|)crs;  ami  we  furfjnl  tli.il  we 
were  youiif;  ami  rlcvrr  in  a  wnrM  nl 
cnipliiicss,  ami  Itrraiiic  as  mir  (larriils 
liail  Ix'cii  ami  as  our  cliildr-  ii  arr.  Vniiii/: 
ami  ilfiV'iisclcss,  ynung  ami  Innlir,  \sc 
lircatlu'il  the  May  air  ami  Inanl  the 
Vdiccs  ol  llic  iiifilil.  \ml  the  youiif;  riian"-. 
liaiul  thai  shook  willi  eagerness,  ami  llif 
lips  of  the  girl  that  cluiii;  in  kissiiif;,  (Tied, 
"(live  me  assurance  of  my  power  to  love 
and  he  loved.  Tell  me  thai  I  am  part  of 
the  nifjht,  of  the  springtime,  of  the  living 
world.  Make  me  real,  make  me  real." 

Do  you  remember?  That  is  how  it  was 
with  Rose  Carrington.  For  almost  four 
years  she  had  created  a  world  and  a 
myth.  But  the  four  years  were  almost 
over,  it  was  May;  the  world  was  wailing, 
the  real  world,  the  other  world  outside. 

"If  he  had  reallv  loved  me,"  Rose  Car- 
rington whispered  suddenly,  "if  he  had 
gone  on  loving  me,  I  wouldn't  have  had 
to  go  back  to  Charleswood,  ever.  It 
wouldn't  matter  if  mamma's  monev 
didn  l  hold  out  Lintil  1  got  a  job.  it 
wouldn  t  matter  if  1  couldn't  manage  to 
find  one  or  to  keep  one.  1  wouldn't  have 
had  to  go  back." 

And  as  if  her  own  words  had  shocked 
her,  she  lifted  her  head,  high  and  startled, 
and  then  bowed  it  down. 

"But  it  wasn't  ever  for  that,"  she  whis- 
pered. "It  wasn't  even  partly  for  that.  I 
lo\  ed  him.  I  really  loved  him.  Russ  " 


Shi-  Hpraiif;  lo  lirr  frri  and  rifi*»n»'<J  ihr 
(liinr  of  hi-r  room.  Slw  culled  (Jowti  llir 
hall,  lowurd  aiiollicr  o|hmi  door  at  the  i-iid 
of  it.  Sill-  (!allei]  in  tin*  Kiift,  muitiitiil  voire 
that  wim  Miill,  after  four  yearn,  ho  in- 
eradiralilr  Soullierii,  a  <  oiilinual  Miure*-, 
to  her  frirniK,  of  lender  and  rjclighl<*(i 
iiKK  ki-ry,  thouf;li  never  a  <  (inH(;ir>UH  Blo<'k 
ill  trade. 

Karen,"  she  called.  "Karen,  do  you 
think  they'll  waiil  to  jjo  any  where  dresHy? 
\\  hat  an-  yon  wearing  lonighl?" 

aimiliir    voice,    not  Karen'tt, 
laughed  down  the  corridor: 

"If  you  want  to  play  it  safe.  Rose, 
Karen,  lovies,  I  Kuggesl  a  .suit  of  armor. 
I  his  is  the  mating  s«-ason." 

But  when  she  had  closed  th*  door 
again,  she  opein-d  her  elosef  verv  delib- 
erately and,  as  if  she  had  know  n  that  she 
would  wear  it  all  along,  she  took  out  the 
dress  that  she  had  not  wf>rn  for  months 
gone  by,  the  straight  little  tunic  of  blue 
gray  and  silvery  green  that  Russ  had  al- 
ways called  "yfiur  sexy  dress." 

She  was  a  tall  girl,  but  not  very  tall; 
naturally  straight-backed  and  flat-citeeted 
in  the  style  of  the  day.  "Poor  little 
Rose,"  they  had  often  said  in  her  hearing 
around  Charleswood.  "Pity  she  didn't 
favor  her  mother.  Pity  she's  so  plain." 

But  she  had  never  been  really  plain, 
even  as  a  child,  though  she  had  only  one 
striking,  positive  beauty:  the  long,  black, 
heavy  hair  w  hich  she  had  never  cut,  like 
her  contemporaries,  but  onlv  parted  in 
the  middle  and  coiled,  in  its  thick  knot, 
low  on  her  neck.  As  a  thin,  lank-locked 
child  her  features  had  looked,  somehow, 
too  big  for  her  face.  But  thev  had  taken 
on'  a  certain  harmony  of  proportion, 
now:  though  they  were  still  of  the  kind 
that  is  most  beautiful  in  middle  age,  the 
strong  and  simple  features  which  time 
and  emotion  refine  until  people  say,  "She 
is  lovely  to  look  at,  she  must  have  been  a 
beauty  w  hen  (Continued  on  Page  190 1 


He  did  not  kiss  her. 
Iiisletnl.  lie  ihreic  himself  forxvanl. 

Iiitliiiu  Ills  fare  in  her  lap. 


Mt'ftA\  n>.l#vM 

krr  Mral  »«MUIk.-4 


THIS  happened  when  Louise  l.ainl)  was  ihiilv-lu. 
and  looked  twenly-livc  and  her  daughter,  Sally,  was 
sixteen  and  looked  iieaulirii!  and  aclcd  as  ili()uj;[i  hIh; 
didn't  know  what  eitiier  heaulv  m  hcing  sixteen  was 
for.  The  latest  denionslralion  liiat  Sally  didn't  know 
came  in  a  letter  to  her  mother  that  Louise  read  on  the 
porch  of  the  Lambs'  summer  cottage  in  Maine. 

The  Lambs  had  come  to  Maine  early  this  year,  before 
school  was  out,  because  Gerald  was  taking  special  leave 
from  the  museum  to  write  a  hook  on  the  liieas,  about 
whom  he  knew  more  tiian  anvijody.  In  lad,  Louise  said 
the  reason  he  was  finding  it  so  didicull  lo  begin  the  book 
was  that  he  knew  too  much  about  them,  that  it  was 
always  easier  to  talk  about  people  you  didn't  know  very 
well.  Anyway,  he  had  spent  the  week  since  their  arrival 
at  the  cottage  in  installing  his  files  and  card  catalogues 
in  Gerald,  Jr.'s,  room  (since  Jerry  would  be  at  camp 
this  summer)  and  in  putting. a  new  ribbon  in  liis  type- 
writer. And  now  since  there  was  nothing  left  to  do  ex- 
cept to  begin  writing  the  book,  he  was  having  a  last 
cigarette  and  was  very  much  relieved  when  his  wife 
put  down  her  letter  and  began  a  conversation. 

"She's  decided  not  to  visit  her  roommate  after  all. 
She  says  as  soon  as  school's  out  she's  coming  here." 


Sin-  always  ha.s  mi  iIh-  suniinrr,"  Haid  Giralij. 
"\\  lial's  the  nialti  r  wil\\  here';'" 

I  hey  biitli  looked  up  at  ifir  sky  and  pinr  trees,  d«)wri 
at  the  cove  where  as  yet  oidy  twr)  iinlc  boat.s  tugged 
\silh  the  tide  at  iIh  n  l.iio\-.  and  across  at  the  rocky 
[iroinonlory  where  even  ibi-  I'leasanls'  ostentatiou.s  cas- 
tle could  not  blight  the  scene. 

"Nature,"  said  Louise,  "is  for  good  gray  poeis  and 

little  chihlren  learning  lo  swim.  Hut  al  sixteen   

Do  you  realize  that  all  the  boys  Sally  used  lo 
|)lay  with  liere.  who  have  reached  anything 
like  a  respectable  age,  are  either  in  the 
Army  or  being  accelerated  through 
summer  schools?  There  is  no  social         iX  v 
life  here  for  Sally.  None." 

"Well,  don't  worry,"  said  Gerald. 
"Maybe  Sally  won't  care." 

"That's   what   I'm   afraid   of,"  said 
Louise.  "But  she  ought  to  care.  It's  time 
she  cared.  And  she  says  #ight  here  that 
she's  not  going  to  St.  Louis  with  Betty 
because  she's  not  interested  in  a  round  of 
parties.  She  is  interested  in  science  and 

wants  to  come  to  (Cnnlinued  on  Page  305) 


me  eisp 


I  LLCSTR A  T  ED     B  T 


The  color  and  unpretentiousness  are  authentic  parts  of  its  original  simplicity. 


FARMHOUSE 

IF  you  were  to  walk  through  this  house  you  might  be  tempted  to 
try  the  surface  of  the  woodwork  with  your  finger  to  feel  if  it  were 
as  lacquer-smooth  as  it  looks.  That's  the  way  it  is  with  all  the  wood- 
work, from  the  boards  of  the  floor  to  the  beams  of  the  ceiling.  It  has 
the  polish,  glow  and  glossiness  of  a  Stradivarius,  I  thought;  and  though 
there  was  no  other  connection  in  my  mind  between  the  rare  old  house 
and  a  rare  old  violin,  it  did  turn  out  that  Stradivarius  died  in  1737, 
which  was  the  year  that  an  early  Connecticut  settler  built  the  house. 

There  are  signs  that  it  started  as  a  very  steep  salt-box.  Its  "punkin 
pine"  sheathing  boards  were  cut  from  the  great  stands  of  yellow  pine 
which  grew  in, the  Connecticut  Valley  when  the  settlers  first  came,  but 
which  long  since  have  disappeared  as  timber  trees.  As  a  house  it  has 
its  own  vibrancy  and  tone,  and  is  kept  tuned  to  perfection. 

Oy  Rirhard  Pratt,  Archilpclural  Editor  of  the  Journal 


'hi:  paiii'liii^  (il  llic  f^r(!('ii  living 
room  is  especially  nice  in 
ils  |)n)f)orli()ns  uiiil  nice,  Iikp, 
II  ilifway  il  Iramcs  ilic  line  old 
liic(ila(  ('.  1  lie  I ui  tiisliiiigs  arc 
usl  as  clioicc  ill  llicir  own  way 
as  the  sotting  itscll,  lud^i  cil 
llie  pieces  hciiig  close 
(■(iiil('iii[)oiaii('s  ol  llic  house. 

)in'  ol  I  111'  |iriiici|)al  [jjcrc^ 
1  tli(^  Ik'sI  licdrooin  is  a  (liraiii 
f  a  (Iccoraled  ConiKH'liciil 
licsi.  i'lic  chairs  are  IHlli  ccii- 
iiry.  as  are  the  velvety  floor 
(lards.  The  room  was  sheatiicd 
1  aiiciciil  pine  by  its  present 
uiiers  lo  re])la('e  some 
modern""  18,'5()  work. 

What  is  called  the  kitchen 
room  now  Inliills  the  riiiictioii 
of  a  great  hall  or  sitting  room. 
This  room  is  sheathed 
in  "pnnkin  pine"  boards  ol 
two-century-old  widths. 
By  the  fireplace  is  an  Indian 
howl  of  steatite.  The  early 
furniture  speaks  for  itself. 


hZKA  STOLLKK 


46 


17 


By  MARGERY  SHARP 

I AURA  SACHEVERELL  was  going  to  the  seaside 
J  to  die.  She  was  in  a  decline,  and  instead 
of  the  ordinary  "Celeste"  crinohne  now  had  to 
wear  the  more  expensive  "Ondula" — superfine 
whalehone  and  brillante,  guaranteed  to  fall  in 
graceful  curves  whether  the  wearer  fainted  out- 
right or  merely  collapsed  on  a  sofa.  Thus  attired, 
a  modest  and  pathetic  figure,  Laura  reclined  all 
day  (ever  since  Cousin  Charles  sailed  for  India) 
in  the  upstairs  morning  room  in  Portland  Place. 
Cups  of  soup,  glasses  of  port  supported  her  flicker- 
ing strength  from  hour  to  hour.  Flowers  in  pro- 
fusion— but  none  too  highly  scented — soothed 
her  weary  eyes.  It  cost  about  a  shilling  a  day  to 
bribe  street  musicians  from  the  door.  The  doctors, 
explained  Mrs.  Sacheverell  to  her  callers,  could 
do  nothing;  but  they  had  some  hopes  of  the  sea. 


But  Laura  did  not  want  to  go  to  the  sea.  She 
wanted  to  die  comfortably  in  Portland  Place, 
where  every  room— at  least  on  the  first  two 
floors— held  its  memory  of  Cousin  Charles.  When 
she  first  heard  Bognor  mentioned  she  refused  her 
broth  and  asked  for  her  prayer  book.  Could  they 
not  wait,  she  asked,  but  a  few  months?  Not  for  the 
world  would  she  postpone  anyone's  pleasure:  but 
surely  the  trip  would  be  more  enjoyable,  not  less, 
without  the  encumbrance  of  a  helpless  invalid. 

W  hen  Laura  talked  like  this  her  mother  could 
hardly  refrain  from  tears;  but  her  sister  Harriet, 
a  modern,  slangy  girl  who  went  to  the  new 
Queen's  College  in  Harley  Street,  simply  left  the 
room  and  banged  tbe  door. 

"I  wish  Harriet  wouldn't /ounce  so,"  said  Mrs. 
Sacheverell,  momentarily  distracted  by  the  sound. 


'  Pray  say  no  more,"  murmured  Laura. 

Laura  heaved  a  gentle  sigh.  Even  before  her  de- 
cline, and  in  her  mere  Celestes,  she  had  always 
moved  silently  and  gracefully.  It  was  one  of  the 
traits  Cousin  Charles  so  much  admired. 

"And  she  reads  the  newspapers,"  added  Mrs. 
Sacheverell  uneasily.  "One  can't  keep  anything 
from  her.  She  even  knows  all  about  that  dreadful 
.\merican,  that  creature  calling  herself  Mrs. 
Bloomer,  who  wants  ladies  to  wear  trousers. 
Dear  Laura,  if  you  could  bring  yourself  to  face  the 
journey,  I  feel  it  would  do  the  child  so  much  good!" 

Laura  hesitated.  She  knew  quite  well  that  her 
mother  wasn't  thinking  of  Harriet's  health,  which 
was  indeed  vulgarly  robust:  the  benefit  would  be 
to  Harriet's  character.  Attendance  on  invalids 
was  a  recognized  part  of  female  education;  but  in 
Portland  Place  the  (Continued  on  Page  130) 


I  LLD  ST  H  »  r  1   11    II  \     II  >  K  K  \     \  N  D  F.  R  S  n  N 


FROM  THE  CHESTER  DALE  COLLECTION 


HEAD  OF  A  GIRL  THOUGHT  TO  BE  SUZANNE  VALADON 

PIERRE -AUGUSTE  RENOIR  (1841-1919) 


Renoir  once  said,  "So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  a 
painting  should  be  lovable,  joyous  and  pretty — 
yes,  pretty."  There  could  be  no  better  descrip- 
tion of  the  picture  reproduced.  The  model  has 
an  enchanting  freshness  and  prettiness  which 


Renoir  seems  to  have  caught  almost  breathlessly 
in  his  web  of  swift  and  deftly  interwoven  brush 
strokes.  He  seems  to  have  been  inspired  by  his 
subject.  But  how  important,  after  all,  is  the 
model  to  the  artist?  To  what  extent  is  she  re- 


sponsible for  a  picture's  being  "lovable,  joyous 
and  pretty"? 

These  qualities  are  difficult  to  convey.  They 
will  not  be  imparted  by  the  colored  photograph 
(Continued  on  Page  90) 


19 


SHE: 

Cait  toil  Irit  iif  Idiu  Itt  ftffl  Itkr  uttr'f  I  Jutt  laii'l  rrmfMttttI  ami  k.lfrrll  kmtu»  il  " 

HE: 

litiil  III  >/<<  jiiml  III  hrillttiir.  ihr  Irllrrm  In  ttrilr,  mnililrii  lirtulm  hf 


FOURTH  OF  A  SCRIES 

Few  itruiui  fuinfltrii/n  hi  marruiftr  atr  ai  rtunmim  aj  fri^ulii 
.Imimfi  f 

II : 

Il  ti  only  rrrrntly  ih/U  the  irntitneni  ' 

firm  un- 
\lnn\  II  iintrn  if 

iiieifu  itiflual  or  hormone  trmlmentt, 
liii  ,  nmi  mrrrls  In  uivirr^taiui  thrtr  mm  rmnllini  '. 
Sexual  inafjrtfuary  in  uifr  or  hus^Httul  rrprrvntx  tmr  of  thr 
tnmmoneit  firMrm*  hriMffhl  lu  ihe  Americnn  IntlUule 
of  FamUv  ReLitinni.  The  aiuiueliir  in  this  aue 
uas  RolirrI  M.  Taylor.  — P*LL  PopK^OE,  director 


Dr.  Paul  Pot>eaoe 


Sylvia  tells  her  side: 

"Since  you've  already  talked  to  my  hus- 
Iwnd."  said  Sylvia  to  the  marriafje  eounselor, 
"you  know  he  brought  me  here  for  advice 
because  I  tried  to  kill  myself  last  month. 
Everett  no  longer  loves  me,  but  Fm  the 
mother  of  his  child.  My  husband  is  a  fine, 
generous  man  in  many  ways,  and  he  still 
feels  responsible  for  my  welfare.  Don  t  get 
the  idea,"  she  added,  "PU  ever  take  an 
overdose  of  sleeping  pills  again.  The  scare 
1  got  cured  me  of  that. 

"I  guess  the  truth  is  I  didn't  really  want 
or  intend  to  die."  the  attractive,  smartly 
dressed  woman  admitted  wryly.  "I  phoned 
for  the  ambulance  right  away,  and  I  think 
now  1  was  mainly  trv  ing  to  frighten  Everett. 
I  m  thirtv-one  vcars  old  and  I  still  behave 
like  a  spoiled  irresponsible  child.  Can  you 
tell  me  how  to  act  like  a  grown-up  woman? 
Can  vou  tell  me  how  to  feel  like  one? 

"1  can  t  control  myself  or  my  emotions 
anv  more."  Svlvia  cried  out  in  sad  bewilder- 
ment. "Half  the  time  1  hardly  know  what 
Tm  doing  or  why.  Most  people  seem  to  like 
me  at  first,  but  it  never  lasts.  I  can't  enfold 
people  the  way  1  want,  and  soon  I  lose  inter- 
est and  mv  new  friends  are  gone  and  I  m 
hunting  others. 

"Mv  little  daughter  and  I  aren't  close  at 
all.  Joan  is  only  eleven  and  she's  a  good 
child,  but  I'm  always  screaming  at  her  over 
nothing.  e  had  a  terrible  row.  just  last 
week.  Joan  wanted  to  go  to  a  wienie  roast; 
when  she  mentioned  her  boy  friend  I  com- 
pletelv  went  to  pieces.  Deven  years  old  and 
thinking  of  the  boys  alreadyl  I  intend  to 
save  Joan  from  dating  as  long  as  I  can.  but 
1  shouldn't  have  locked  her  in  her  room. 
I'm  making  Joan  hate  me  the  way  I  used  to 
hate  mv  mother,  and  it's  wTong,  it's  wTong. 

I've  never  been  close  to  anybody  in  my 
whole  life."  Syhna  went  on.  "That  includes 
mv  husband.  There  are  many  times  when 
Everett  seems  like  a  brutal  stranger — and 
that's  after  twelve  years  of  marriage.  Sex  is 
the  trouble  bet>*  een  Ev  and  me,  of  course — 
his  idea  of  sex — and  my  ow  n  emptiness  and 
inadequacy.  I  just  can't  respond  the  way 
some  women  do,  and  Ev  knows  it  now. 


"I  know  my  hunhand  is  convinced  he 
would  \m'  Ix-tl'-r  off  hi!'  •   Then,"  Mid 

Sylvia  with  luddcn  ;  .  "he  could 

spend  all  hi^  timi-  *»uh  i  rig  com- 

panions he  prefers  to  an  ■  .  jt  home 

with  me  and  our  little  gicL  .Although  Everett 
denies  il,  I'm  sure  he's  running  around  with 
other  women. 

"Some  woman  telephone»l  him  just  last 
Tuesday,  and  when  I  ansncrfd  the  phone 
she  hung  up.  I'm  certain  I  recognized  Sue's 
voice.  Sue  is  married  to  Ev's  business  part- 
ner, and  they  come  to  our  hou.se  every 
week  end  <>r  we  go  l(»  tTieir-.  1  don't  want  a 
woman  like  .Sue  in  our  house,  but  I  don't 
know  how  to  keep  her^vtft  of  it.  Sue  pre- 
tends to'be  my  friend.  Ev  pretends  there  is 
nothing  between  them.  But  he  couldn't  ex- 
plain why  I  founi^Sue  s  vanity  case  in  his 
overcoat  pocket.  The  phone  call  came  that 
same  evening.  Sue  had  missed  her  vanity 
case,  I  know.  They  had  been  somew  here  to- 
gether earlier.  What  kind  of  impression  does 
Joan  get  w  hen  she  sees  Ev  drunk  and  hears 
us  hghting  over  Sue  and — and  other  things? 

"I'm  not  the  only  problem  in  our  family 
by  any  means,  '  said  .Sylvia.  "Ev  stops  in 
some  bar  every  afternoon,  and  regularly 
everv  week  end  he  gets  drunk.  His  drinking 
worries  me  into  hysterics.  I  know  what 
drinking  can  do  to  a  family.  My  own  father 
died  of  alcoholism  in  a  Cleveland  hospital 
sixteen  years  ago.  One  of  the  nurses  wrote 
to  mv  aunt  and  that's  all  we  ever  heard. 
My  father  deserted  my  mother  when  I  was 
only  6ve  years  old. 

".\fter  my  father  left  her  ray  mother 
wouldn't  have  anv"thing  to  do  with  me," 
Sylvia  told  the  coimselor.  "I  looked  too 
much  like  him.  I  reminded  mamma  of  my 
father's  drinking,  his  infidelities,  his  cruelty. 
.\nv~way,  that  was  her  excuse  for  sending  me 
to  liv^  with  her  spinster  sister,  who  didn't 
want  me  either.  Aunt  Ellsie  taught  school 
and  kept  boarders,  and  she  was  forever  try- 
ing to  get  my  mother  to  take  me  back  so  she 
could  rent  my  room.  Mamma  had  a  traveling 
job  and  wasn't  really  settled  an^'w  here.  I  can 
see  now  how  inconvenient  a  Utile  girl  would 
have  been  to  her,  but  I  didn't  see  it  then. 
Every  time  mamma      (Comtinued  on  Paee  ii6) 


Everett  couldn't  explain 

Sue's  ranifv  ca.ie  in  his  overcoat  pocket. 


50 


I 


THINK  I  /(77/  have  another  cup,  Candy  dear,' 
said  Mrs.  Goodwin,  stretching  out  her  tiny, 
high-heeled  sHppers  toward  the  fire.  She  looked 
about  her  appreciatively.  "Such  a  charming  room! 
Such  a  peaceful  atmosphere.  No  problems^ 

Candy  glanced  quickly  up  at  her  mother.  It  had 
been  clear  to  her  for  the  past  half  hour  that  there 
was  something  on  Mrs.  Goodwin's  mind,  which 

would,  in  due  course,  appear.  Meanwhile   Well, 

it  is  a  nice  wvw.  Candy  thought,  gazing  fondly  at 
the  new  chintz  curtains  (a  copy  of  an  old  English 
print  of  rosy  birds  and  fruit  against  a  dull  green 
ground).  Outside,  the  forbidding  November  sky 
sullenly  withheld  its  own  snowflakes  and  made  the 
firelight  seem  warmer,  the  silver  tea  things  brighter. 

"And  such  a  good  way  to  manage  carnations," 
Mrs.  Goodwin  went  on  brightly.  "Personally,  I'd 
rather  try  to  make  an  artistic  arrangement  of  eight 
umbrellas  and  a  walking  stick  than  fight  a  single 
carnation.  In  an  umbrella  stand,  I  mean;  of 
course.  .  .  .  What's  been  happening  in  Mustard 
Hill,  dear?" 

"Nothing  much — except  that  we've  had  a  couple 
of  housebreakings,"  Candy  said.  Mrs.  Goodwin 


adored  drama.  "The  police  think  it's  a  gang  of 
juvenile  delinquents." 

"In  Mustard  Hill?"  Mrs.  Goodwin  looked 
properly  appalled. 

"Isn't  it  horrid?  And  the  worst  part  is  that  David 
thinks  it's  exciting.  He  goes  around  pretending  to 
break  into  people's  houses  and  steal  their  jewelry. 
With  a  sawed-off  Tommy  gun." 

"Oh,  he'll  get  over  it."  Mrs.  Goodwin  stirred  her 
tea.  "You're  so  lucky,  dear.  The  children  are 
healthy.  You  have  Ellen  in  the  kitchen.  Bill's  doing 
well.  No  problems  at  all,  really." 

Candy  was  very  busy  wiih  the  hot  water.  The 
children:  healthy,  yes — but  David  was  getting  com- 
pletely out  of  hand.  And  as  for  Sarah's  disobedi- 
ence, not  to  mention  her  tantrums  And  how 

about  Ellen's  gloomy  references  to  her  feet  which 
were  killing  her,  her  back  which  took-her-mind- 
right-off-her-work-you-might-say,  and — most  omi- 
nous— her  niece  in  New  Jersey  who  was  advising 
early  retirement?  And  Bill  No  problems! 

Candy  said  quietly,  "Yes,  I'm  very  lucky." 

"Particularly  with  Bill  to  share  any  problems  you 

might  have."  (Continued  on  Page  183) 


ILLUSTRATED     BY     AL  PAREER 


52 


IT  is  the  mystery  surrounding  cancer  that 
makes  it  terrifying  to  so  many  men  and 
women.  But  a  great  deal  is  known  about  can- 
cer and  a  high  percentage  of  the  cases  are  cured 
every  year.  Half  the  battle  against  cancer  is 
to  know  it  for  what  it  is.  Here  are  the  facts. 
They  have  all  been  checked  by  leading 
doctors  and  researchers.  They  tell  you 
what  is  known  and  what  can  be  done  about 
cancer — today. 

BY   PETER  BRIGGS 


DI  PIETRO 


We  do  not  know  its  cause... 

but  half  the  cancer  cases  can  be  cured! 


THE  cancer-research  story  has  come  to  be  one  of 
dramatic  achievements.  For  a  very  long  time, 
progress  against  cancer  had  been  slow,  funds  prac- 
tically unavailable.  Then  suddenly,  in  1946,  such 
great  strides  began  to  be  taken  that  the  end  of  the 
battle  is  now  in  sight. 

It  was  the  atom-bomb  development  that 
showed  scientists  (and  interested  laymen)  how 
they  might  organize  to  bring  the  villain  to  his 
knees.  Money  was  raised  in  amounts  that  would 
have  made  the  early  researchers  cry  out  in  won- 
der as  to  where  it  could  be  spent.  But,  with  the 
money,  great  new  research  centers  were  built,  en- 
tire cancer  hospitals  established.  Universities 
found  the  means  to  bring  together  large  staffs  in 
well-planned  co-ordination.  At  top  speed,  these 
men  and  women  are  working  to  help  the  entire 
human  race. 

What  have  these  six  years  of  intense  research 
accomplished? 

In  chemistry,  after  many  thousands  of  com- 
pounds had  been  tested,  twelve  agents  were  dis- 
covered with  definite  effects  against  cancer;  two 
types  with  startling,  if  temporary,  effects  on  the 
child  killer,  leukemia. 

With  radioactive  isotopes,  the  by-products  of 
atomic  energy,  thyroid  cancer  is  being  definitely 
improved,  brain  tumors  are  diagnosed,  inaccessi- 
ble cancers  are  being  treated  with  the  isotopes' 
radiations,  and  the  basic  chemistry  of  life  itself  is 
being  studied. 

Biochemists  have  isolated  some  of  the  very 
complicated  compounds  used  in  the  life  process 
and  are  working  to  interfere  chemically  with 
cancer-ccll  reproduction.  Hormone  researchers 
have  applied  cortisone  to  relieve  cancer  and  have 
isolated  sixty  other  hormones  to  find  out  how  they 
are  related  to  cancer  development. 

Surgeons  have  removed  glands  to  bring  about 
cancer  relief.  They  have  dared  operations,  suc- 
cessful ones,  that  would  have  been  unthinkable  a 
few  years  ago. 

Human  cancers  have  been  transplanted  to  mice 
for  testing  of  dangerous  drugs.  Viruses  that  cause 
cancer  in  mice  have  been  isolated.  Specialized  vi- 
ruses have  been  trained  to  attack  cancer  cells — 
strains  of  virus  that  are  being  tested  on  humans 
right  now.  To  burn  out  cancers  once  thought  hope- 
less, immensely  powerful  new  radiation  machin- 
ery has  been  invented.  Hundreds  of  other  ad- 
vances, less  spectacular  but  just  as  important, 
have  been  made  at  the  same  time. 

These  are  the  achievements  of  the  last  few 
years.  For  every  victory,  of  course,  there  were 
countless  ideas  that  failed  to  work  out  in  the  lab- 
oratory. Conquering  cancer  is  no  simple  task,  but 
if  so  much  can  be  accomplished  in  such  a  short 
time,  how  much  hope  there  is  for  the  years  ahead ! 


What  is  cancer? 

Tlie  word  "cancer"  describos  Ihe  unconln.lU-.l 
KrowLh  of  any  cell  in  your  Ijody.  Cancc-r  in  not  oru- 
disease  bul  a  whole  variety  of  ihfiu.  lieallliy  cellH 
behave  in  predictable,  orderly  contn.lled  ways 
For  some  unknown  reason,  cancer  cells  have  es- 
caped control  and.  without  restriction,  run  wild 
IhrouKh  the  body. 

Am   I  silly  to  be  worried 
about  getting  cancer? 

Not  at  all.  Almost,  everyone  has  had  oersonal  ac- 
quainlance  with  a  cancer  case.  Thirty  million 
Americans  now  livinn  will  net  cancer  if  tlu'  present 


Can  children  g«t 


rate  continues.  More  than  a  quarter  of  them  will 
be  saved  by  present  methods.  Another  live  million 
could  be  saved  today  if  their  condition  were  di- 
agnosed early  enough ! 

Is  a  tumor 

the  same  thing  as  cancer? 

It  can  be.  Tumors  are  swellin.g  masses  of  cells 
anywhere  in  the  body.  If  cancerous,  they  are 
called  malignant  (or  dangerous).  Otherwise  they 
are  benign  (or  relatively  harmless),  but  benign 
tumors  can  suddenly  become  malignant.  By  far 
the  greatest  percentage  of  tumors  are  benign. 

How  does  cancer  grow? 

Your  body  feeds  cancer  cells  in  the  same  way  it 
feeds  normal  cells,  through  the  blood  stream.  Can- 
cer cells  usually  repiroducc  much  faster  than 
normal  ones  and  they  have  the  ability  to  travel  all 
over  the  body,  by  means  of  the  blood  stream  or 
the  lymph  glands,  eagerly  starting  new  colonies  of 
cancerous  growth,  as  well  as  penetrating  the  sur- 
rounding healthy  tissue. 

How  does  cancer  kill? 

Curiously,  this  is  not  completely  understood. 
Sometimes  the  mere  size  of  a  cancer  can  stop  nor- 
mal functioning.  Again,  the  rapidly  growing  and 
spreading  cells  can  interfere  with  the  normal 
blood  supply  of  the  orderly  tissues.  In  other  cases, 
the  cancer  cells  disorganize  the  body's  very  com- 
plicated and  delicate  balance. 

Other  than  in  behavior, 
how  do  cancer  cells  differ 
from  normal  ones? 

Chemically,  very  little  is  known  about  the  diflfer- 
ence,  but  under  a  microscope  a  great  variety  of 
physical  differences  have  been  observed.  More 
than  three  hundred  difTerent  kinds  of  human  can- 
cer are  known.  Each  looks  different  and  has  a  spe- 
cial form  of  behavior.  Cancer  cells  usually  resem- 
ble normal  ones  from  the  area  m  which  they 
originate,  since  they  are,  basically,  normal  cells 
gone  wrong. 

How  often  should  i  have 
an  examination  for  cancer? 

At  least  twice  a  year,  if  you  are  in  the  over-forty 
age  group. 


Uiifi)riiin:i!.  ■. .  I- 1. 1,', ,  ,1  ,H  •  , .  .,•  .,f  .,!!  .  ".il- 
dren'v  ,. 

fine  I"  .  .■.   ■  .    ,,  ,11- 

cellH  u(  ilif  liliMxJ  act  in  unumirullcd  ktuwiIi. 

Do  animals  not  cancer? 

Yes,  and  planiH  do  uh>.  Any  in 
animal  or  man,  may  for  uiu-xpl  i  ■  i 

oiii  of  control  and  bfconu-  iiialiKiuini  I  .'ic  |j<»>ii- 
live  Hide  of  ihtH  iH  that  aniinaU  can  lie  imd  in 
make  ex|KTiinentH  in  Ihc  cure  ol  human  cancer. 

What  are  Ihe  \ymptom> 
o  I  cancer  o  (  the  ii  t  c  i  ii  s  ? 

HUcdin^;  iKii  due  to  iiKiisluiaiion  is  Ihe  mtwl 
common  sit^n. 

What  arc  so  me  symptoms 
of  breast  cancer? 

A  liimi)  beneath  the  skin,  a  nipple  retracted  «ir 
raised  above  the  level  of  the  other  nipple,  di^ 
charge  of  a  small  amount  of  blcxKl-tinged  lluid. 


What  about  symptoms 
of  cancer  ol  the  rectum? 

The  symiitoms  are  prolonKcd  constipation  (some- 
times alternating  with  diarrhea)  or  a  slight  bleed- 
ing, sometimes  mistaken  for  piles. 

In  the  stomach? 

Weight  loss,  indigestion  at  a  fairly  constant  inter- 
val after  eating,  in  the  latter  stages  often  followed 
by  vomiting. 

On  the  skin  or  in  the  mouth? 

Any  sore  that  does  not  heal  rapidly. 

None  of  the  signs  above  indicates  that  you 
delinilely  have  cancer,  bul  any  one  of  them  means 
that  you  ought  to  have  skilled  medical  advice 
immediately. 

Does  whether  I  am  married 
or  not  bear  any  relation 
to  getting  cancer? 

The  figures  seem  to  indicate  that  cancer  of  the 
cervix  is  more  common  to  married  women,  cancer 
of  the  breast  to  unmarried  women. 

What  is  the  best  method 
of  cancer  prevention? 

Early  diagnosis  is  your  best  safety  device,  al- 
though certain  cancers  can  be  prevented.  For  in- 
stance, proper  postnatal  care  and  hy.giene  will  do 
much  to  lessen  the  chances  of  cancer  of  the  cervix. 

Why  can't  scientists  prevent  cancer? 

Once  the  cause  (or  causes)  of  cancer  has  been 
found,  prevention  will  be  possible.  A  difficulty  in 
both  prevention  and  cure  is  that  anything  used  to 
kill  cancer  cells  may  kill  normal  cells  as  well. 

Is  cancer  contagious? 

All  evidence  on  hand  about  human  cancer  indi- 
cates that  cancer  is  not  contagious. 

Is  cancer  hereditary? 

The  American  Cancer  Society  is  willing  to  state 
that  cancer  cannot  be  inherited.  Since  a  predis- 
position to  cancer  may  be  inherited,  many  doc- 
tors recommend  more  frequent  examinations 
when  there  is  a  history  of  cancer  in  a  family.  There 
is  no  reason  to  life  in  fear  simply  because  someone 
in  vour  family  has  had  cancer. 


What  raufca  cancer? 

..,  ..... 

ca 

W.I 

VII 

hi' 
III' 

|M'"'  ■   

ilun,  like  u  jaiuccd  luulh.  may  alwj  roujll  in  canm 

Is  (diicrr  always  t.aif.fd 
by  conditions  llhr  those 
mentioned  above? 

No.  Mich  (';i'iv-«  :iri-  (hi-  i-tci-iii ioti  r.-i'tu  r  'I  ri'i  'V.- 
rule  M 
result «.; 
lelf  Oh' 
iMjrtivii  ■ 

aci 

moiic  >i)ui  ip . 
much  or  loo  I 

out  of  hornv.:  ,  n.  uja>  tjt-  iii  a  u^nditKin 

that  will  dcv 

What  are  hormone*? 

HormoncTi  are  chcmicaln,  manufactured  in  tbi- 
glands.  wh<we  function  Ik  to  control  the  brxly'ii 
functioning  and  growth.  Size,  temperament  an<J 
sexual  changes  are  all  more  or  less  regulan  d  h-. 
hormones.  The  besl-km)wn  hormones  an  li.i 
group  called  the  "steroids."  which  come  from  the 
adrenal  and  the  sex  glands.  Steroids  are  mml  ac- 
tive during  limes  of  sexual  change.  Because  can- 
cers occur  most  frecjuently  after  menopause, 
many  researchers  hope  to  /ind  cancer's  cause  by 
observing  normal  and  abnormal  steroid  behavior. 

Isn't  it  true 

that  viruses  cause  cancer? 

One  group  of  prominent  researchers  is  seeking  to 
prove  virus  resp<jnsible  for  cancer.  Sfjme  research- 
ers claim  to  have  been  able  to  extract  viruses  from 
certain  cancer  cells  bul  cannot  find  them  in 
others.  Since  virus  can  definitely  cause  cancer  in 
some  mice  (it  is  transmitted  by  the  mother's 
milk),  Ihis  research  direction  must  definitely  be 
considered.  The  final  discovery  may  be  that  can- 
cer is  caused  by  virus  in  combination  with  some 
other  body  abnormality. 

Isn't  old  age  important 
as  a  cause  of  cancer? 

Cancer  is  not  "caused"  by  old  age,  a  fact  proved 
by  its  occurrence  in  children.  Nevertheless,  it 
definitely  occurs  more  frequently  in  older  people. 

Will  a  blow  on  the  breast 
cause  cancer? 

The  weight  of  evidence  is  against  a  relationship 
between  blows  on  the  breast  and  cancer. 

Will  smoking  cause  lung  cancer? 

Some  informed  researchers  liimk  so.  although  it  is 
still  premature  to  make  a  definite  pronouncement 
one  wav  or  the  other. 


What  is  the 

cancer  "silent  period"? 

In  many  cancers,  particularly  of  the  lung  an-I 
stomach,  there  is  a  long  time,  sometimes  as  much 
as  twenty  months,  when  its  presence  is  unsus- 
pected because  it  causes  no  pain  or  other  symp- 
toms. 

How  do  doctors  diagnose  cancer? 

In  many  different  ways,  depending  on  the  type  of 
cancer  and  its  location.        (Continued  on  Page  127/ 


IV  The  tobacco  fields  were  all  bleached  out 
to  silver  by  the  moon  and  the  night  had 
cooled.  Maybe  Mrs.  Heyward  slept,  back  in 
the  dark  inside  of  the  Rolls.  But  Chloe — still 
wearing  her  ball  gown  under  her  light  loose 
coat — Chloe  on  the  front  seat  beside  me  was 
awake.  She  was  only  pretending  to  sleep,  not 
wanting  to  talk — not  knowing  there  wasn't 
any  danger  she  would  have  to  talk  to  me. 
Without  looking  I  knew  the  way  her  head 
lay  back  against  the  leather  seat. 

At  Richmond,  Chloe  was  sitting  straight 
up  and  silent.  Later,  while  the  sky  grew 
light  over  Fredericksburg,  she  fell  asleep. 

I  had  taken  this  way  north  because  the 
miles  were  fewer  and  Mrs.  Heyward  wouldn't 
say  whether  she  wanted  to  go  back  through 
Greensboro  onto  Route  15. 

"Oh,  any  route!  Just  get  along  with  what 
you're  doing — be  quick!"  she  had  said,  and 
pointed  to  the  dresser  where  the  mass  of  her 
toilet  things  were.  She  was  on  the  bed,  then, 
taking  aspirin  with  her  brandy  while  I 
packed.  The  bedroom  door  was  open,  but 
she  made  no  effort  to  overhear  Peter  and 
Chloe,  who  were  out  in  the  sittirig  room. 
Sometimes  the  low  murmur  of  their  voices 
broke  into  clear  sentences,  and  1  set  the 

Copyright.  1953,  by  May  Davies  Martenet 


by  May  Davies  Martenet 


bags  on  luggage  racks  as  near  to  the  door  as  I 
dared,  so  that  I  could  hear.  But  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward didn't  even  bother  to  listen.  After  the 
reporter  had  gone  we'd  waited — and  waited — 
for  Mrs.  Heyward  to  move  or  speak.  And 
when  at  last  she  looked  up,  the  first  thing 
she  saw  was  Chloe,  and  "You — jou,"  she 
had  said  furiously.  Because  what  showed 
more  than  shame  in  Chloe's  face — what 
looked  plainly  out  of  her  eyes — was  pity. 
And  when  Peter  got  up  from  the  sofa  and 
reached  down,  as  if  to  draw  Chloe  up  into 
the  circle  of  his  arm,  "Keep  your  hands  to 
yourself!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and  when  he 
told  Chloe  that  they  had  better  go,  "What's 
the  matter  with  him?"  cried  Mrs.  Heyward. 
"Does  he  imagine  you'll  go  to  the  dance? 
Does  he  think  you'll  snuggle  up  to  him  now? 
Or  did  you  think  you  would?  Listen.  Your 
father  gave  his  life  to  building  something, 
and  you'll  not  be  seen  with  this — this  sheep- 
eyed  satyr  who  wants  to  tear  it  down!" 

Mrs.  Heyward  turned  toward  Peter.  "Run 
along  now — run  and  see  if  you  can  think  up 
anything  else  to  break  down  Chloe's  good 
name  and  position." 

She  put  one  hand  to  her  head  and  reached 
the  other  one  out  and  I  took  hold  of  it. 

From  the,  bedroom  (Conlinued  on  Page  74) 


"Of  course  you  know  how  oddly  you're  behaving,  don^t  you?" 

Lord  Wickendon  said.  "Simply  everybody  ivants  to  marry  me 


Dear  Mrs.  Fraley:  When  I  see  the  diet-miracle  you  have  performed  for 
yourself,  I  believe  there  is  hope  for  me  yet!  I  am  30  years  old  and — the  horri- 
ble part — more  than  50  pounds  overweight.  As  the  wife  of  a  charming  and 
popular  Army  officer.  I  am  obliged  to  lead  an  unusually  extensive  social  life. 
But  having  to  entertain  and  be  entertained  makes  it  doubly  difficult  for  me  to 
reduce.  The  "extras'^  are  cdways  in  front  of  me.  My  husband  is  so  anxious  for 
me  to  lose  iceight.  Please— for  his  sake  as  well  as  mine — tell  me  how  1  can 
take  off  these  horrible  pounds  and  at  the  same  time  continue  to  be  a  good 


hostess — and  an  appreciative  guest. 


Most  sincerely, 

Virginia  Eastman 

Riverside,  California 


Before : 
295  pounds 


HELEN  FRALEY 


.4fter:  135  pounds 


4inurnn'l  IHfl  Tips 

Even  while  dieting,  no  need  to  be  a  stoic. 
Elegant  dining  can  still  be  an  art 
if  you  choose  lotv-caloried  foods,  give  theni.an  inspired  lift. 

Plain  consomme  becomes  egg-drop  soup.  I  se  canned  bouillon  or 
bouillon  cubes  and  icdfer.  seasoned  with  grated  onion,  and  one 

beaten  egg  dribblet!  in  for  tivo  servings.  Approximately  50  calories! 

For  a  canape  tray — tall  carrot  and  celery  strips  with  a  flip 
of  cottage  cheese  .  .  .  it's  seasoned  with  caraway  seed  and  lemon  juice. 

Chicken,  mushrooms,  sea  food  can  all  be  epicurean — on  a  low 
calorie  count.  Try  chicken  breast  ( thinly  sliced  and  pounded) 
lightly  brushed  with  butler  and  broiled  .  .  .  sprinkle  with 
chopped  chives  .  .  .  lobster  tail  or  salmon  in  an  aspic, 
enlivened  by  lime  juice  and  chopped  parsley  .  .  .  mushroQnis 

sketvered  with  shrimp,  broiled,  served  u-ith  a  barbecue  sauce. 

For  dessert:  2  pear  halves  in  grape  gelatin  .  .  . 

or  coffee  sherbet — happily  confected  coffee,  saccharin, 
nonfat  dry  milk  and  ivhite  of  egg. 

Three  slices  of  Norwegian  flat  bread,  total  2.5  calories. 
Snutrt  and  substantial  ivith  a  tossed  green  salad. 

Over  a  cucumber-and-onion  salad — «  real  taste 
enchantment  is  a  sprinkling  of  fresh  dill! 

For  puree-of -asparagus  soup — 4  spears  of  asparagus  per 
cup,  cooked  in  bouillon  made  with  powder  or  cubes,  and  buzzed 
in  an  electric  blender  or  pressed  through  a  sieve. 

Sauerkraut  is  calorie-low  ( %  cup,  27  calories).  Have  you  tried  it, 
hot  or  cold,  tvith  a  light  lacing  of  poppy  seed  and  chopped  apple? 

Baked  tomato  for  a  vegetable  plate  can  be  filled 
• ,  with  celery,  green  pepper  and  onion 

cookeil  in  bouillon . 
'  .  Seasonetl  tvith  basil — a  delight!  ,  ' 


1  on  remember  Helen  Fraley,  ivho  dieted  away  160 

extra  pounds.  After  telling  her  story  last  August 
and  receiving  hundreds  of  letters,  she  is  irorking 
uith  the  editors  on  medically-approved  diet  plans  to  hel^ 
all  of  you  tvho  were  inspired  by  her  words. 

Dear  Mrs.  Ehstman:  Recently  an  acquaintance  of  mine,  attending  a  club 
meeting,  heard  a  number  of  women  exclaim  over  my  dieting  down  from  295  to 
135  pounds.  "Hoiv  did  she  do  it?"  one  after  the  other  asked.  "Oh,"  my  friend 
replied  airily,  "any  woman  can  lose  weight  if  she  wants  to  stay  home  and  be- 
come a  recluse  ivith  a  box  oj  rye  wafers." 

Believe  me,  that  was  the  misstatement  of  the  year!  iSever  once,  during  my 
reducing  days,  did  I  turn  dotcn  an  invitation  to  any  social  event.  In  fact,  all 
the  gay  card  parties,  church  suppers,  luncheons  and  buffet  dinners  made  the 
time  go  by  more  quickly  for  me.  I  did  a  lot  of  entertaining  in  my  own  home 
too.  And  no  matter  where  I  tcent  or  how  I  entertained.  I  never  cheated  on  my 
1000-calorie-a-day  food  plan.  That  is  one  reason  why  Vd  like  to  share  some 
of  my  own  entertaining  ideas  and  menus  ivith  you  readers.  Til  guarantee  your 
guests  wont  go  away  hungry,  dieters  or  nondieters. 

Your  happy  ex- fat  friend. 

Helen  Fraley 


By  DAWN^CROWELL  NORMAN 

Beauty  Editor  of  the  Journal 

By  far  the  most  rewarding  way  to  pursue  a  diet — and  have  phone 
calls  and  invitations  pursue  you  —  is  to  know  calories,  keep 
a  simple  daily  count,  and  go  where  you  will  socially.  Because 
you  wouldn't  start  a  diet  without  the  advice  of  your  doctor,  he  s 
naturally  the  one  who  provides  you  with  a  calorie  reference.  An 
extra  copy  for  your  purse  is  a  handy  way  to  dine  out — and  diet  too! 

It  does  take  moral  backbone  to  stay  with  a  calorie  count.  Is  it 
worth  it — when  everyone  else  has  a  second  eclair?  Slim  Helen 
Fraley  laughs  happily — "I  want  to  sky-write  an  answer:  Yes, 
Virginia,  it  is  worth  it!  And  yes  to  all  of  you  who've  written  me.  A 
fat  figure  can  give  you  an  inferiority  complex  (I  know,  all  too 
painfully)  that  dims  your  whole  life." 

And  here  are  her  own  plans  for  party  meals  that  please  guests 
and  keep  a  hostess'  waistline  neatly  defined:  (Continued  on  Page  i76j 


it:«  KAiii.  I  It K I.I. 


Il«i4-I<»r>«  «-nn*l  t-urt'  «%ln<<'r  \iriiH  InfccllonN 
llh  nny  kti«»«%  n  r<*ni«>«l.>  — 
nn«l  fnn'l  Mliorlfii  llif  l«'nK(li  of  .^oiir  illnoMH. 
Wlinf  a-iiii  <l<»  for  >  itiirHcIf '.' 


YOl  \l.  jirohal)!)  Ixcri  misrrahic  vtiih  a  running  n»j»e  and 
stuffy  head  at  least  once  during  the  past  winter.  You  may 
have  suflr-rcil  chills,  arhed  in  every  muscle  and  fought  an  uphi-l 
>tomarli.  And  the  chanfes  are  thai  a  doctor  has  loM  vou,  "You 
must  have  that  \irus  that's  going  around." 

What's  more,  you  probably  tliti  have  that  \iru8 — whatever 
it  is. 

Doctors  simply  don't  know  what  "that  winter  vims"  is  that 
lays  so  many  million  Americans  low  each  year  between  October 
and  March.  It  could  be  only  one  virus  that  attacks  the  body  in 
different  ways.  Or  it  could  be  one  of  half  a  dozen  viruses — out  of 
some  3000  varieties  that  have  been  discovered.  But  here  are  a 
few  conclusions  about  that  winter  virus  most  doctors  do  agree  on: 

1  —  Doctors  c^n't  prevent  this  virus  infection. 

2 —  They  can't  cure  you  with  any  known  remedy. 

3 —  They  can't  shorten  the  length  of  your  illness,  if  it  Ls  a 
common  cold,  with  any  remedy. 

4 —  \our  virus  infection  prohably  isn't  very  dangerous. 

Of  course  the  statements  above  don't  apply  when  symptoms 
are  severe  or  temperature  is  high.  Fever,  especially  if  it  is  per- 
sistent, may  indicate  pneumonia  or  other  serious  infection  in  the 
making. 

"If  doctors  don't  know  what  the  winter  virus  is,"  you  might 
ask,  "and  what  to  do  about  it,  can't  we  do  something  om^Ives?" 

The  answer  is  clear  and  important:  Too  many  patients  try  to 
cure  themselves  with  elixirs,  patent  nostrums  and  drugs.  These 
just  won't  work.  Worse,  they  can  irritate  membranes  and  slow- 
up  the  body's  own  curative  process — or  help  more  \"iruses  enter 
the  body.  In  addition,  these  useless  remedies  cost  money.  Mil- 
lions of  dollars  are  wasted  each  year  on  virus  cures  that  are  no 
better  than  a  witch  doctor's  rattle.  On  top  of  this,  the  antibiotic 
drugs  which  careless  doctors  prescribe  or  patients  insist  upon 
have  no  effect  against  viruses — and  can  endanger  future  health. 

'Then  what  can  be  done  about  the  winter  virus?"  you  ask. 

Discouraging  as  that  virus  seems  to  be,  there  are  things  you 
can  do  to  help  your  body  fight  off  the  infection,  prevent  compli- 
cations and  get  well.  But  (Continued  on  Page  91) 


FoTget  the  medicine  cabinet,  most  doctors  advise  todav. 
The  bodv  itself  is  the  best  ^^^nte^-virus  fighter. 


58 


ool-jersey  suit  with  silk  leopard- 
printed  blouse,  by  Jeanne  Campbell. 


Checkerboard  wool  skirt  and  short 
jacket,    pique   blouse,   by  Lotte. 


Slim  wool  skirt,  linen  shirtwaist,  flame  wool  coat  with  detachable  pique  lining,  Pembrook  Squires,  i 

It 

i 

MORE   FASHION...  MORE  COLOR...  MORE   FOR  YOUR  MONEYjl 

THE  CHANGE-ABOUT  COSTUME 

achieved  with  separates  is  today's  way  of  dressing,  for  many  ages  as  well  as  the 
young.  The  idea  has  gro>vTi  from  the  extra-piece  stage  into  an  entire  philosophy 
about  clothes — easy,  adaptable,  inexpensive.  Especially  in  three-piece  versions 
that  include  a  jacket,  each  costume  may  be  the  nucleus  of  a  wardrobe,  to  be 
added  to  at  will.  In  tweed,  jersey,  cotton,  silk  or  Unen,  in  slim  or  full  silhou- 
ettes, separates  are  seasonless,  ageless,  and  dearly  loved.     B>  WILHELA  CUSHMAN 

Fashion  Editor  of  the  Journal  j 


TWEEDY  WOOL  thumb-length  double-breasted  coat  with  a  rolled 
collar  and  taffeta  lining,  $22.95.  The  cherry-red  ribbon  cloche,  $2.98; 
patent-plastic  bag,  $2.98;  white  gloves,  $1.50;  gold  bead  bracelet,  50c. 

THE  BEIGE  SUIT  has  the  cardigan  neckline  and  the  slim 
silhouette  of  fashion  plus  the  wearability  of  a  timeless  fashion.  Rayon- 
and-acetate  linen,  $25.00.  Patent-leather  pumps,  $6.95;  beige  gloves,  $1.50. 


noo 

SPRING  AND  SUMMER  WARDROBE 

is  in  the  nature  of  a  miracle  when  it  includes  the  fash- 
ion, the  all-occasion  character  and  the  accessories 
that  distinguish  these  well-integrated  clothes.  Based 
on  beige  and  blue,  it  is  accented  with  red,  white  and 
black,  plus  the  pretty-as-jewels  touch  of  a  few  fresh 
flowers,  for  a  few  cents.    .    by  Wilhela  Cushman 

Fashion  Editor  of  the  Journal 


SILK  SHANTUNG  dress-and-jacket  belongs  in  every  ward- 
robe, noon  to  midnight,  $22.95.  Worn  here  as  a  luncheon  costume 
with  flower  hat,  $2.98;  beaded  bag,  $2.98;  white  gloves;  earrings,  50c. 

A  SWEATER  TOP  of  shell-stitch  knitted  cotton,  S3. 95, 
makes  an  extra  costume  worn  with  the  suit  skirt  and  a  patent-leather 
belt,  $1.00;  leaf  pins,  19c  each;  earrings,  29c:  gold  bead  bracelet.. 


SHANTUNG  SHEATH  .  a  .liii 
ril  l  (hi  —  Willi  ;i  -iriii;.'  of  pt-arls,  25c;  chifTon 
li.uiilkrrcliicl.    2')r:    |>al<-rit-lfatluT  |Minips 


LKOMBKUNO  •  nout 


THE  PICTURE  HAT  has  come  again.  This  white  straw  that  is  strewn  with  vari- 
colored flowers  is  by  Irene,  worn  with  a  silk-and-mohair  suit  by  Ben  Zuclcerman. 


WILHELA  CUSHMAN 


Jl6adc  of  flowers,  bright 
ribbons,  straws  like  sunshine,  your  hat  this 

spring  and  summer  is 
something  to  adore.  Ohe  little 
cap  or  crescent,  clapped  on  the  very  back  of  the 
head,  is  the  newest  angle.  '{Kerchief  hats, 

SBretons,  ^utch  caps,  cart  wheels 
—  each  one  is  a  pretty 
compliment  to  you  and  every  costume  you  own. 


By  WILHELA  CUSHMAN 

Fashion  Editor  of  the  Journal 


♦ 


LEOMBRUNO    ■  BODI 

A  PINK  HAT  is  made  of  bands  of  silk  and  sheer  mesh 
by  Hattie  Carnegie,  printed  taffeta  by  Ben  Barrack. 


RIBBON  TURBAN  of  multicolor  grosgrain,  beaded  through  lacy 
straw,  is  worn  far  back  on  the  head.  Designed  by  Lilly  Dache. 


Wll.m.l.A  Ct.:SHMAN 


LILAC  FLOWERS  go  with  lilac  linen,  spring  and  summer.  The 
hat  of  flowers  is  by  Lilly  Dache,  the  suit  by  Ben  Zuckerman. 


l.rrn.l.  svii.on  niiinicd  with  ro^i'*.  anil  (  urN  o| U- 
iri<  li.  by  Hallie  (!arnrf{if,  worn  wiih  bilkh  or  Um-nt. 


STRAW  RRKTON  in  a  riiu;ih  ba^ket-weave,  wears 
red  poppies  in  it>  turned-up  brim.  By  Irene. 

DITCH  CAP  of  beige  .straw,  a  back-of-the-head 
fashion  byLilly  Dache,  is  worn  with  tussah  suit. 


Co-ordinated  fabrics :  a  polka-dot  sailcloth  dress, 
plain  turquoise  collarless  jacket.  We  have  accented 
the  dots  on  the  bodice  and  the  narrow  straps 
with  washable  yellow  beads  ...  a  pretty  summer 
trimming.  Vogue  Design  No.  7952,  12  to  20. 


to  111  cilvO 

Cottons 


Black  velvety  border  design  for 
skirt,  matching  plain  fabric  for 
bodice  .  .  .  yard  extra  border 
for  individual  applique  at  neck. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7831,  12  to  18. 


FROM  MAINE  TO  CALIFORNIA,  you  will  find  these  delightful 
cottons,  these  becoming  patterns.  There  is  news  in  color  .  .  . 
news  in  texture  .  .  .  news  in  trimming.  Pink  with  red, 
sunshine  yellow  and  cornflower  blues.  Velvety  border  designs, 
embroidered  pique,  stripes  woven  with  gold  threads.  Enchanting 
dresses  like  these  will  be  seen  from  coast  to  coast  this  summer. 

By  Nora  O'Leary 

Pattern  Editor  of  the  Journal 


1 


Yellow  shirting  with  tiny  white 
cord  stripe  looks  cool  and  crisp. 
Add  white  pique  flower  border, 
laced  with  turquoise  ribbon. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7980,  12  to  20. 


Stripes  match  to  make  their 
own  design  on  this  delightf  ul 
dress.  Yellow  belt,  coral 
beads,  a  straw  bonnet.  Vogue 
Design  No.  7872,  12  to  20. 


From  Vogue's  new  series  of 
very  "Easy-to-Make"  patterns, 
we  chose  this  design  of  utmost 
simplicity  in  a  lovely  plaid. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7938,  12  to  20. 


Turn  to  Page  138  for  Other  Views 

Buy  Vogue  Patterns  at  the  store  which  sells  them  in  your  city.  Or  order  by 
mail,  enclosing  check  or  money  order,*  from  Vogue  Pattern  Service,  Putnam 
Ave.,  Greenwich,  Conn.;  or  in  Canada  from  198  Spadina  Ave.,  Toronto,  Ont. 
Some  prices  slightly  higher  in  Canada.  (*Conn.  residents  please  add  sales  tax.) 


Cornflower-blue  pinpoint  pique  ■vvilh  a 
white  pique  yoke  and  sleeves. 
Pretty  neckline  to  flatter  a  suninier  tan. 
Back-button  detail  and  a  pretty  6-gore  skirl. 
Vogue  Design  No.  S-4350,  12  to  20. 


©  VOGUE 


The  newest,  slimmest  silhouette  for 
summer.  The  pink  shealh  dress,  \  ogue 
very  "Easy-to-Make"  Design  No.  7101, 
12  to  20.  The  wonderful  sleeveless  jacket  piped 
to  match,  Vogue  Design  No.  7961.  12  to  20. 


A  dress  to  dance  in  — mauve,  pink  and  blue 
tissue  gingham  with  tiny  lace  daisies 
outlining  the  pretty,  low  neckline. 
Separate  the  flowers  and  scatter  on  bodice. 
Vogue  Design  No.  S-1101,  12  to  18. 


1 


F.m  br»)i(l«TC(l  field  flttucr- 
oii  iiiiporlcd  pi(|ii<''.  i  >^ o  -baiic- 
)>l  ribbon  [tick  ii[>  colors  of 
flower-.  I*ij)»'  neckline  b»r  color. 
>oguc  De^ign  No.  7986,  12  to  20. 


4 


I'HOTOS  BY  DERUJINSKY 


Song  for  April 

Oh,  let  us  Jlec  from  April, 
Her  steps  are  light  and  fleet. 
Pied  piper  in  a  shocking  gown. 
She  has  no  business  in  town, 
Her  presence  is  too  sweet. 

She  smiles  a  smile. 
Then  weeps  awhile. 
Where  sun  and  rain  clouds  meet. 
Oh,  let  us  flee  from  April, 
This  young  mad  thing  called  April. 
This  dancing  girl  named  April. 
With  magic  in  her  feet. 


I WROTE  those  verses  some  time  ago  in  a 
mood  to  celebrate  the  last  of  March,  a 
month  I  never  hked.  and  the  advent  of 
one  of  the  most  entrancing,  dehcious. 
delirious  of  times  in  all  the  circle  of  the 
years.  And  here  it  is  again. 

//  tells  a  tale.  These  lines  were  writ- 
ten, as  I  said,  while  in  a  mood  comparable 
to  the  relief  one  experiences  when  the 
front  door  closes  behind  a  boring  guest. 
You  can't  hint  the  guest  gateward.  and 
you  can't  look  at  the  clock  or  put  out  the 
cat  and  bank  the  fires  of  home. 

.Anticipation  is  all.  One  thing  is  true, 
and  that  is  that  April  does  not  to  my 
knowledge  abound  in  any  illustrious 
birthdays,  but  I  am  w  illing  to  believe  that 
some  may  be  hidden  away  in  the  beds  of 
time,  waiting  like  the  bulbs  in  the  garden 
to  reach  maturity  and  blossom  out  in 

glorv  for  our  delight.  iContimud  on  Page  Wli 


Editors''  A'ote;  The  revealing  autobiogra- 
phy of  which  this  is  the  third  installment 
is  published  because  it  is  an  intimate 
glimpse  into  a  totally  different  social 
world— of  Islamic  customs  and  Eastern 
traditions.  Oriental  opulence  unknown 
outside  of  The  Arabian  Nights  to  demo- 
cratic Western  readers.  Princess  Narri- 
man's  occasional  opinions  of  political 
events  in  Egypt  are,  of  course,  her  own  and 
do  not,  in  any  way,  necessarily  represent 
those  of  the  editors  of  the  JOURNAL. 


DAVID  DOUGLAS  DUNCAN  FOR  LIFE 


"Well  done,"  was  Farouk's  accolade  when 
Narriman  bore  a  son  in  Jan.,  1952.  Pictured  is 
nursery  of  baby  who,  when  he  was  six  months 
old,  became  King  Ahmed  Fuad  II,  of  Egypt. 


Narriman  left  her  bed  three  days  after  the  birth 
to  see  parade  in  her  son's  honor.  A  week  later, 
with  Fuad  and  Farouk,  she  fl^d  Abdin  Palace  to 
find  safety  from  the  "Black  Saturday"  rioting. 


The  royal  family  took  refuge  from  the  revolu- 
tion at  Ras  el  Tin  Palace  in  Alexandria.  Here 
Farouk  abdicated  in  favor  of  his  infant  son, 
just  before  they  set  sail  for  Italy  and  exile. 


69 


TRUE 


"My  lilllf  son,  '  I  snitl,  (inJ  J  umuk  lauf^/ml. 
"Our  lilllr  son,"  lie  citrmU'd  me. 
7T  I  1^  I  "Ihnii  jnr^ri  tJuil:  lir  ii  ill  !><■  your  little  son 


only  wlirn  tir  is  nait^lily  —oil  tlw  rest  of  the 
tiiiir  lir  is  1(1  In-  rrfrrml  to  (LS  our>«.'* 


HyllKK  KOYAI,  IIKillNKSS  IMUNCKSS  NT1{|{|MAN  ./.s /o/./ Kl, \l  S  lUolMI, 


W I']  dill  iKil,  as  (Id  inosi  new  l\ weds,  slai  l  (ill 
on  (im  lioMcN  miioii  iiiitiicdiatfly  afler  ihc 
wcddiii;^  ifrciiioiiy  in  llio  I'alaic  ol'  Ahdiii. 
I'ardiik  liad  impotlaiil  allairs  ol  stale  In  allciid 
1(1,  uliicli  ki'|)l  liiiii  in  (iairo  lor-  a  ccilain  lriii;||i 
III  lime. 

He  said  to  riic,  '[  shall  really  give  ydii  an  iiii- 
Forgcttable  honeymoon,  rfierie — but  wo  shall 
have  to  wait  about  a  tnonth  longer.  You  wouldn  l 
like  it  i(  1  were  glued  to  a  lelephone  the  whole 
time,  talking  to  Cairo,  would  you?" 

I  really  should  not  have  liked  that  and  I  was 
quite  satisfied  to  wail  awhile.  The  paku^es  were 
still  exciting,  unexplored  territory.  Each  day  1 
iliseovored  new  rooms  that  I  had  never  before 
iiotieed.  A  few  days  alter  the  great  wedding  re- 
ception, we  had  moved  into  the  I'alaco  ol  Kouh- 
beh  and  I  believe  that  this  palace  has  about 
three  hundred  rooms  and  there  arc  miles  ol 
green  carpeting  covering  the  halls.  The  walls 
were  adorned  with  paintings.  At  each  side  stood 
long  rows  of  gilded  chairs,  and  statues  like  sol- 
diers of  stone. 

My  husband,  the  King,  seemed  glad  when  the 
wedding  ceremonies  were  over  and  the  noise  of 
merrymaking  silenced.  The  great  searchlights 
that  at  night  had  bathed  the  important  buildings 


Copyright.  195.1,  by  the  Iiili- 


Press  Alliance  Corporation 


rll)  DOUGLAS  DUNCAN  FOR  LIF!: 


ol  (iairo  ill  a  llnnd  nl  h^^hl  wen-  ilitntni-il  and  iIk- 
city  began  om c  iiMirc  In  lake  on  an  everyiJay 
iippeaianec.  l  ainiik  came  to  ine  eacli  evening  in 
III)  aparlnieni :  he  waN  tired  and  about  bis  niniilli 
were  lines  iil  u ciiiiiii  ss  alter  be  bad  s|M  nl  i-iilirc 
days  in  conlcrence  with  city  counselors  and  the 
new  cabinet.  The  negotiations  were  (larticularly 
dillii  lilt,  hc(  iiuse  the  government  wa.s  cfiecking 
all  the  attempts  of  the  King  and  bis  personal 
aiKisers  to  examine  the  land-relorm  -.lanrlaK. 
1  al\\a\>  ii-tiiaiiii'il  iiiilii  lie  raim-.  Mr  likid 
to  share  a  liglit  late  supjier  alone  \sitli  iiie,  with- 
out guests.  Then  he  would  lake  oil  his  unilorm 
or  his  oHicial  gray  suit,  and  --it  at  (%!■-(■  in  a  cnni- 
loilable  cream-colored  bousccoal  at  my  >i(le. 
It  amused  me  to  make  him  crack  open  walnuts 
between  his  thnnih  and  index  linger,  lie  could 
do  that  witii  as  little  ciliul  a>  ihougli  he  were 
s(|ueezing  an  orange. 

we  dill  nnl  discuss  serious  matters,  for  after 
the  work  of  the  day  he  bad  had  enough  of  them 
and  was  seeking  onlv  laughter  and  relaxation. 

We  listened  to  the  radio  or  played  a  few 
phonograph  records  and  sometimes  he  just 
looked  at  me,  content(>dly  iiufling  at  his  cigar, 
while  I  would  linish  some  -in. ill  ml  [Liiiil iii^' 
which  I  had  commenced  thai  allcruoon.  Al- 
though he  teased  me  about  many  things,  he 
never  made  fun  of  my  painting,  for  he  was  very 
proud  of  mv  artistic  talent  and  liked  nothing 
better  than  to  show  mv  work  to  his  intimate 
friends  in  the  palace.  He  was  never  discouraged 
and  I  soon  observed — as  did  also  many  of  his 
best  friends  and  his  closest  collaborators — that 
one  could  tell  in  what  sort  of  mood  he  was  just 
from  the  tone  of  his  laughter.  \\  hen  it  remained 
vibrant,  deep  in  his  chest,  then  be  was  truly 
happv;  but  if  he  was  weary  or  angered,  that 
showed  onlv  because  the  laughter  became  loud. 
But  w  hether  the  sun  >liiiiic  i>r  w  lietlier  it  rained, 
whether  he  was  tired  or  lively,  he  never  lost  his 
gaiety,  f  arouk,  more  than  anyone  I  have  ever 
known,  tended  least  to  melancholy. 

He  can  also  do  with  far  less  sleep  than  most 
people.  Sometimes,  after  supper,  when  my  eyes 
were  drooping  with  sleepiness,  about  two  in  the 
morning,  he  would  send  me  to  bed  and  spend 
another  hour,  all  alone,  going  through  the  offices 
of  the  various  palace  officials  and  secretaries. 
He  would  look  through  their  "unfinished  busi- 
ness" trays,  and  if  he  were  of  the  opinion  that 
some  document  or  report  bad  been  lying  there 
too  long,  he  would  scribble  a  few  words  upon  the 
margin  in  his  own  liand,  always  with  his  red 


peiK  il.  He  rarely  iiHed  aiiMbiiig  but  a  r<-d  |N-ncd. 
Ml  HfcretaricH  uiid  adjutants  had  a  lliirk 
pencil  lying  on  ibeir  dcHkM,  one  end  of  Hliicli 
was  red  and  one  blue;  (be  reil  end  huh  intended 
for  the  exeluHive  use  (d  Hin  Maji'sly.  whenever 
he  mi;.dit  come  into  their  (diieen. 

Oinc,  one  of  lii»  secretaries  l(dd  me.  "  I  be 
King  has  introduced  Homething  new  into  iIh- 
life  of  the  palace:  night  work  in  the  (dfices.""  .\nd 
il  was  reallv  line  that  olleii  lights  were  burning 
vm  II  allei  iiiiiliii;.'lil  III  ilie  wolkrooms,  where 
typists  and  secretaries  were  still  busy  because 
ibey  did  not  dare  (C  oniinuni  on  I'niti-  loij 


For  Cnnvii  i'riine  Ahmed  Fuaii  s  lu>t  dIIkuI  piiotograph  with 
his  parents,  \arriinan  wore  red  dress  with  w  bite  lace  trim,  w  liich 
siie  had  wdrii  at  reception  for  wives  of  foreign  ambassadors. 
"This  was  important ;  my  first  appearance  on  my  ow  n,  as  Queen." 


70 


DEATH  OF  A 


;::»: 


:::::::  :::::: 

Ijjjjji  :::::: 
:::::ii  :::::: 


•••••••  ■■■■■■■  ••••■•■>  •■! 

•  ■■■■■k  ■••■■■■>.  ■«■■••• 

iBS**a*a«|«f ■•■■••»>>•■■•  ■■■■■«■....--._  lai 

«•■•■■■■■■■■■■■■>  ■••■■•••■••■••■■■>  ■■! 

■•••■■■■■■■■■■■a  <■■•■■■••■■•■••  •■! 

f::::::::::::r  ^::::::::::::::'      ::::ii::::!:!  ::::::::::::::r   ::::i:  ::i 

■•!!::!:::''  sj!!!!!!!!!!!  !:::!:::::::i;i  ;:i 


This  is  n  true  story.  The  soldier  described  fought  in  Korea  and  was  there 
for  ten  days.  He  died  there,  a  very  short  time  ago.  I  can  still  remember  his 
face  and  voice.  Only  his  name  is  changed.  If  you  who  know  battle  think 
he  died  in  an  extraordinary  way,  I  can  only  say  that  I  do  not  think  any 
man  in  combat  dies  in  an  ordinary  way.  If  you  who  do  not  know  battle 
think  the  story  is  gruesome,  I  say  that  ivar  is  only  two  things,  success  or 
destruction,  and  there  is  a  little  of  both  in  mch.  Read  this,  for  it  happens 
to  many  men  every  day  of  every  war.  By  Lt.  David  R.  Hughes 


PRIVATE  WILLIAM  TILSON,  Jr.,  re- 
placement, a  soldier  whose  new  green 
helmet  had  never  touched  the  earth.  Private 
William  Tilson,  Jr.,  about  to  complete  his 
long  journey  into  fear. 

I,  his  new  company  commander,  thought 
these  things  when  he  first  knelt  in  the  bunker 
opening  and  reported  in. 

We  were  on  a  hill,  a  battered  torn  peak 
that  was  as  close  to  being  a  skeleton  as  a  hill 
could  get.  The  hard  bony  ridges  were  pitted 
with  the  holes  of  incessant  bombardment, 
and  the  inevitable  litter  of  battlegrounds 
had  collected  in  the  ugly  scars  and  drifted 
down  the  slope  into  the  shattered  trees  be- 
low. A  dusty,  hard,  bitter  hill.  One  we  had 
been  trying  to  keep  from  the  Chinese  for 
many  weeks. 

But  this  new  man  was  young  and  clean, 
with  short-cropped  black  hair  and  a  full 
round  face.  His  fatigue  clothes  were  fresh 
and  his  rifle  bright  and  oily.  For  a  few  min- 
utes I  questioned  him  and  he  answered  in  a 
clear  young  voice,  about  his  family  and  back- 
ground and  his  eight  months  in  the  Army.  I 
listened  and  filed  his  words  into  mental  notes. 

Then  I  made  my  usual  speech  about  how 
glad  we  were  to  have  him,  and  how  impor- 
tant it  was  to  take  care  of  himself,  and  to 
listen  carefully  to  his  squad  leader  and  pla- 
toon leader.  It  was  meant  to  give  him  a  little 
confidence  and  purpose  until  he  learned  the 
game  of  managing  to  live  between  bullets. 


But  the  mortars  began  screaming  down 
again  and  I  had  to  turn  to  command  my  lit- 
tle island  of  the  battle.  I  saw  the  frightened 
look  on  Tilson's  face  before  he  disappeared 
down  the  slope  to  his  new  platoon,  the  First. 

This  hill  was  a  hell  of  a  place  to  try  to  give 
anybody  confidence. 

I  got  down  to  see  him  only  once  in  the 
next  few  days,  days  filled  with  the  howling 
arch  of  enemy  shells,  and  that  once  almost 
cost  me  my  legs.  But  I  did  see  the  boy  for  a 
moment,  asked  him  how  he  was,  told  him  to 
stay  in  place  even  when  under  attack,  and  to 
keep  his  weapon  clean.  When  I  finished  he 
looked  past  me  for  a  second  and  then  back  to 
my  face  and  spoke  in  a  quiet  voice: 

"Lieutenant,  are  you  scared  up  here  at 
night?" 

I  paused  and  then  answered  slowly,  "Yes, 
I  think  everybody  is." 

And  he  turned  his  head  and  looked  down 
the  hill  with  a  half-smile  and  suddenly  I 
knew  he  felt  that  we  were  friends,  with  a 
secret  between  us.  And  I  knew  he  would 
make  a  good  soldier. 

I  went  on  down  the  line  of  foxholes,  shift- 
ing, adjusting,  waiting  for  the  Chinese  to 
come. 

Come  they  did,  two  nights  later,  a  bat- 
talion of  them  against  our  two  platoons.  The 
mortars  and  artillery  had  chopped  at  us  all 
evening,  slacking  off  suddenly  at  midnight. 

Then  they  threw  up       (Continued  on  Page  2i>} 


It  was  his  first  battle  .  .  .  and  he  ivas  alone,  afraid. 


\/>  i>  //ill/  >«(/  /i/il  f/i/nr  uriu^illl'lf  iif 

Ihiliiiii  iniilnii*  h  ll»  III  llkr  t/miiltHtl  linil  /ili-Ji 
Infil  l  lliiiii  III'  inn  liyii  li  llu-iii  In  likr  ii/i/ili' 

I  ii\ liiiii ,  llii- fii  :ui  I  iii^f  I '  •ii««y<l/i^  mil  tmi  n  ,  fii-ji 
mill  t  liinnli  m  iuiii  h-kiihIiiI  <m  ii  iIih-iiI  iinyil  run 
Im  \iiiii  lMit%  mill  III*  Kiciiitfpi  (I  tfHi  mils  if  smi 
mill  \imi  Mill  I  I !■  lir  ) 

• 

<  liir  iif  mil  iiiwn'ii  NliililMirMi**!  Iiai'liclor*  wan  loiiK 
iiii'<iiiiilrr»l<HM| :  MiiiiM-ii  ai'iiriii-tl  liiiii  a*  a  Mniruin 
hiiliT.  "  .  .  .  NiiH  llinl  lif'a  lliivtrml  iiilo  In*  nitlilful 
roll-,  1111)1  H4|iiirfi>  all  llu-  mmIumii  nroiin'l,  rvrr>lMHiy 

r<-iili/<-«  lir'x  rriilK  jii-i  a  iliirliii|{. 


II  I  will  li.ii  k  ,il  )  olh  j^r  ,i;;,illi  <  .1  ilrralii  \  iiWa'.) 
I  iiii^'lil  iiol  lii\ loll  .ill  iii\  fiiiir  or  li\ I- \rur>  on  jii>l 
Kill-  rolliyr:  lll.i\lir  I  il  (.'o  .1  M-.ir  or  |H<>  to  all 
I  i  .1  \liil«i-.|i  [ii  .mil  .1  I  .ir  \\  i*i»|fril  iini- 
MTnilN.  uliokiiou-^  I'ltlit  tii>l  I'll  Itiiiior  lli.il. 
I  lioi|i;li. 


Ily  IIAKI.AIV  MII.I.KIt 

Aiiotlior  Ivpc  ol  ncii-I'i(Mi(li;m  ^nill 
(licail-ol-g(il(l)  iiciglilior  cdTiiiilains  aiioul  is  tlu"  one 
wliose  rliildroii  must  icinaiii  imliaininclcd.  rcpinl- 
less  of  how  imicli  damagp  tliey  inllicl  on  imioccnl 
bystanders  or  bysitters. 


M  V  <;ni)lf;iii(;  adiiiiralioii  f;ocs  lo  Junior  s  skill  in 
rcdistrilnilinf;  both  bis  wardrobe  and  mini'.  On  one 
nifinorabb'  t'Ncnin;;  be  Icll  iiis  to|M-oal  in  onr 
chum's  car.  my  hat  in  another's.  (I.s  il  a  hint  thai 
he  wants  a  car  ol  bis  own  as  a  mobile  clotbcs 
closet  ?  Can  he  rebuild  a  ?10()  jalojiy  ?} 


Thank  goodness  I've  reversed  my  nnrmn  vien  tlutt  11 
young  man  shouldn't  marry  die  daugliter  oj  a  family 
whose  sideicallc  snoic  remains  unshoveled.  .  .  .  Some 
daughters  of  such  families  are  so  seductive  that  the  hoys 
trade  through  snow  hip-deep.  Ami  even  shovel  the 
driveway!  ^ 

When  one  more  pint  of  my  blood  di  ips  into  our 
town's  blood-bank  tank  I'll  have  parted  hapi)il>  with 

a  whole  gallon  Nothing  excels  the  good-will-to- 

men  sensation  as  your  blood  flows  toward  the  far- 
away battle.  0 

Hon  can  a  fond  father  deny  his  child's  piteous 
plea  to  he  allowed  to  see  only  one  more  man  slain  on 
Tl  before  heddy-hye?  Such  a  monstrous  parent 
inifiht  even  hum  a  comic  booh! 

"1  suspect  that  one  reason."  speculates  I'eter 
Comfort,  raking  new  gravel  into  his  garden  path, 
"why  the  KapiJa  sisters  keep  lun.hing  together 
year  after  year  is  that  to  each  other  tliey  stdl  look 
as  young  as  they  did  on  the  campus! 

If  your  youngsters  only  realized  it,  the  most  stwuung 
April  Fool  trick  they  could  play  on  you  would  he  to 
appear  on  time  at  the  dinner  table  volunlanly  with 
their  faces  washed  clear  back  on  both  sides,  their  hair 
combed,  their  hands  clean  and  their  fingernails  spaded 
out.  (''Very  funny!") 


ScrrrI  In  .  I  la  I  liii  fii  iini  I '.  I  \  li.i/.i.ir-:  I  In- 
homemade  cand\  i>  belter  ill. in  \iiii  can  bin 
downtown,  and  I  relish  a  gliiiip-e  of  (he  iiiie\- 
pecledlv  beauteous  N  oil ng  matrons  w  ho  \  e  >paw  iied 
such  evplosis  e  i'heriili-bral>.  .  .  .  Kill  the  deafening 
wa^  liie  i-liildisli  shrieks  bounce  off  those  liaril 
walls.  I  think  I  II  wear  ear  pliics 


Onr  lull  n  >  iindrrslalrinriil  ol  the  11  inlri  .  II  hm  11 
pliwid  mat  roll  hiiird  ill  11  ciiniislii  orfiv  lliiil  I  iilliiliili 
lUtnhhead  calls  <i  certain  old  Iriend  and  assiH  iiile 
"animated  slime."  she  niiirniiired.  "  Miiylii-  Miss 
lianldiead  isn't  as  sn  i-et  as  she  should  lie  ' 


"\\  li\  is  il.  "  iiiipiircs  IJcIIn  Comfort,  racing  her 
motor  excessivels  in  a  purely  feminine  way  before 
backing  out  of  her  garage,  "that  when  my  husband 
hangs  on  his  doorknob  thi'  'Please  don't  disturb  mc' 
sign  he  swiped  in  a  London  hotel,  he  expects  all 
h(uisehold  activity  to  suspend  in  soundless  paraly- 

SIS.'  « 

Even  the  teen-ager  lingo  rejlects  what  a  strong  Jorce 
pure  luck  is  in  all  our  lives:  the  latest  high-school  gem 
I've  overheard  is,  ".Iw.  it's  just  the  iiar  the  hall 
bounces!"  « 

\'\  e  been  doghoiisi'd  again  lor  se\  eral  da\  llii> 
lime  because  I  in-i-led  that  a  I  k  ir.  a  belter  pres- 
ent for  our  vouuge>t  to  take  to  a  boy  s  birthday 
|iarl\  than  a  water  jtislol.  I  lie  in  my  lonely  kennel 
wondering.  \in  I  aii  <'nem\  of  tin-  Vmerii-an  bo\ 

As  we  walked  to  the  bus.  the  last  remaining  croi|uet 
pla\er  in  our  neighborhood  (he  seems  to  get  long- 
distance ph(uu-  calls  daily  from  \^'all  Street  and  the 
capital)  tried  to  knock  my  hat  olTwilh  this  shocker: 
It  costs  S6200  to  fire  a  V^'ashington  clerk.  (Give  'em 
a  year's  salary  to  resign?) 

W  ith  a  couple  of  sunlamps,  a  few  sacks  oJ  sand 
and  some  lieoch  equipment  one  of  our  neighl>ors 
prepared  quite  a  playroom  comingdiome  party  for 
the  sun-ki.'ised  vacationers  from  Florida.  .  .  .  Some 
of  our  sun-lamp  tan.f  compare  quite  favorably. 


\|e  ir.idv    I  iiei-de  thai  IIM-ll  nlliilllii  lio 

more  and  more  of  the  fiiiidariienlal  houM-wnrk?  If 
vou're  not  vet.  \oil  will  Im-  when  >oii  stiiiiilile  on  a 
bill  for  S|H  siibiiiilted  by  a  s|M-ciiili<.t  who',  waxed 
a  few  stpiare  feel  of  lloor,  wa'>hed  Homr  window-, 
.mil  vaeuurneil  a  nig  or  Iwn. 


Our  lull  II  /ids  M7W  iiiorr  Iniielrrs  to  I .iinqH-  yillCf 
llie  u  iir  ilimi  in  iliriii  eiily-fivo  \mr*  hfori:  and  many 
of  'ein  discover  that  iimricii  is  the  only  roiinlry 
where  se.x  is  sinful,  vulvar  or  liiisli-hiish.  "II  I  're  lixi 
lense  idmiil  it."  sins  our  hilesl  Miirrn  I'lilo.  tie 
oiifihl  to  reliix."  ^ 

To  inv  horror.  I  di-.io\i  r  we  have  nine  radio-, 
four  plioiiogra|)li-  .oid  Ii-le\i..ion  i*ets  in  our 

house,  and  at  least  one  is  always  in  the  repair 
shop.  .  .  .  What  iiustilics  me  is  that  they're  not 
ii-eii  miirb.  I  )oe«  machinery  -iiffer  from  |)-\ elio-o- 
ni.ilii-  .Mlmi  Mt>? 

When  \our  twclve-ycar-olil  reads  John  llerscy  s 
Hiroshima  clear  through  in  one  silling  .  .  . 

Or  Junior  springs  on  you  a  whiz/er  in  biology 
that  you'll  forgotten— or  never  knew  .  .  . 

And  your  daughter  asks  if  she  can  hang  in  her 
room  a  Marin  print  that's  a  favorite  of  ymirs  .  .  . 

Or  your  lady  lo\e  appc.irs  in  a  red-velvet  dress 
with  a  deep  V  neckline  you've  always  admireil.  free 
of  fri|i|)ery  .  .  . 

Then  it  dawns  on  you  how  families  drift  closer 
and  closer  together  and  how  they  have  more  and 
more  fun.  as  if  bv  a  law  of  nature. 


72 


ARTHUR  GRIFFIN 


1  How  often  I've  talked  of  sweet 
basil.  When  it  grows  high  in  the 
herb  hedge  its  glossy,  almost  var- 
nished leaves  are  lovely  in  a  bou- 
quet. It  is  wonder-working  in 
many  ways.  As  a  salad,  sought 
after  as  an  emerald  in  the  caves 
of  Solomon.  Seductive  as  a  houri 
in  the  tales  of  knights  of  old. 

2  Canned  pears  have  never  been 
my  most  favorite  item.  (Most  fa- 
vorite may  be  redundancy.  So 
what?)  But  fill  the  hollows  with 
frozen  raspberries,  and  they'll 
keep  a  man  home  after  supper. 

3  A  potato  will  roll  and  tumble 
about  in  the  oven.  Particularly  if 
it  has  been  rubbed  with  butter  or 
bacon  fat,  as  so  often  is  done. 
Ever  spoil  its  fun  by  baking  it  in 
a  muffin  pan?  Easy  to  take  out 
too. 

4  If  you  would  have  a  grapefruit-and-avocado  salad, 
here's  a  dressing  that  takes  five  minutes'  time  and  a 
little  more  pains  than  most,  and  is  worth  more  than 
most.  But  still  a  matter  of  taste: 

5  The  dressing:  Get  a  jar  with  a  tight  cover.  Put  in  2 
tablespoons  undiluted  frozen  orange-juice  concentrate, 
l-i  cup  lemon  juice,  %  cup  salad  oil,  I4  cup  sugar,  1 
teaspoon  salt,  1  teaspoon  paprika,  1  teaspoon  prepared 
mustard,  1  teaspoon  grated  onion,  a  little  pepper  and  a 
few  celery  seeds.  This  should  be  well  shaken.  Pass  with 
the  grapefruit  and  halved  avocados. 
C  Try  this  the  next  time  you  are  putting  together  a 
simple  salmon  salad.  Add  some  chopped  tart  apple, 
and  a  little  chopped  celery.  This  makes  for  a  pleasant 
contrast  of  textures,  and  a  nice  combination  of  flavors. 
You'll  like  it,  and  so  will  the  family.  Works  equally 
well  with  tuna  salad,  so  keep  it  in  mind. 

T  Pour  a  tablespoon  or  so  of  frozen  tangerine-juice 
concentrate  over  a  serving  of  vanilla  pudding.  Makes 
as  nice  a  dessert  as  you'll  come  upon  in  a  month  of 
Sundays.  And  so  easy ! 

8  Here's  a  brand-new  way  of  making  n  olded  gelatin 
salads.  Dissolve  1  package  lemon-flavored  gelatin  in  1 
cup  hot  water,  add  '  2  cup  cold  water,  1-2  tablespoons 
vinegar  or  lemon  juice,  1 2  cup  mayonnaise  and  a  little 
salt  and  pepper.  Chill  in  an  ice-cube  tray  in  freezing 
compartment  until  firm  around  edge  and  soft  in  center. 
Turn  into  bowl.  Whip  until  fluffy.  Now  go  on  as  fancy 
dictates.  We  added  '  9  cup  chopped  cress  and  1}  2  cups 
orange  sections.  Possibilities  are  endless. 
O  You  may  add  1-2  cups  mixed  cooked  or  raw 
vegetables,  or  mixed  fresh  or  canned  fruits,  or  what 
have  you.  Pour  into  a  mold.  Chill  until  firm.  Unmold 
on  lettuce.  Known  as  a  souffle  salad— quick  and  very 
good. 

10  Vanilla  ice  cream  has  more  guises  and  disguises 
than  most  anything  I  know.  One  of  the  latest  (and  I 
had  to  be  shown )  is  a  sauce  of  molasses  with  chopped 
nuts.  It's  a  dreamy,  creamy  delight. 

11  The  ubiquitous  meat  ball  is  as  often  met  with  as  an 
umbrella  on  a  rainy  day.  Just  dredge  the  little  trifles  in 
flour  seasoned  with  paprika,  and  you'll  get  a  flavor 
that  will  prompt  questions,  and  a  rich  brown  color. 


Center  Congregational  Church, 
New  Haven,  Connecticut  (1812-14). 
Designed  by  Ithiel  Town,  New  Haven's  first  architect. 

12  I  pass  on  to  you  this  brief  and  simple  suggestion: 
To  melted  butter  or  margarine,  a  generous  amount, 
add  a  pimiento,  chopped,  and  serve  it  on  poached 
or  broiled  fish  fillets.  Especially  good  with  fillets  of 
flounder. 

i;i  I  wonder  why  some  folks  think  of  fruitcake  only 
around  the  holidays.  It's  a  year-round  favorite  with 
me— and  can  you  think  of  anything  better  with  a  cup 
of  tea  or  a  tall  glass  of  iced  tea? 

14  The  heart  of  lettuce  must  wilt  and  droop  at  some 
of  the  things  that  are  done  to  it.  But  cheer  up.  dear  old 
friend.  Listen  to  this  and  take  a  new  lease  on  life : 

15  Put  the  yolks  of  3  hard-cooked  eggs  through  a 
sieve.  Add  1 3  cup  cream,  a  little  salt  and  a  little  pep- 
per. Add  1 2  teaspoon  sugar  and  2  tablespoons  lemon 
juice.  Beat  like  a  rug  on  a  clothesline.  Chill  awhile  and 
treat  your  lettuce  to  a  square  deal. 

10  From  an  old  cookbook:  "Never  allow  your  family  to 
eat  cider  apple  sauce  pie.  If  they  clamor  for  it,  give 
them  a  fine  deep-dish  cherry  pie.  Nothing  is  more  to  be 
deplored  than  hot  doughnuts  and  a  cider  apple  sauce 
pie.  You  must  be  firm."  So  must  the  family. 

17  If  steak  is  your  dish,  give  it  the  salt  treatment,  like 
this :  Make  a  paste  of  1  cup  salt  and  5  tablespoons  water. 
Spread  a  2"-thick  steak  with  the  paste,  thinly  on  one 
side  and  \i"  thick  on  the  other.  Place  on  the  broiler 
rack,  thinly  salted  side  down.  Broil  5  to  8  minutes. 
Turn.  Spread  top  with  more  salt  paste  about  %"  thick. 
Broil  5  to  8  minutes  longer.  Time  depends  on  how 
you  like  your  steak.  Scrape  off  salt  coating  before 
serving.  And  you'll  have  a  steak! 

lit  I  like  cucumbers  done  this  way.  You  try  them 
sometime.  Peel  and  slice  them  thin.  Then  marinate  in 
equal  parts  of  soy  sauce,  vinegar  and  salad  oil.  No  salt 
needed.  The  soy  sauce  takes  care  of  that. 


IJ)  Ever  try  a  mushroom  pie 
with  a  steak  dinner?  Make  your 
very  best,  well-seasoned  creamed 
mushrooms.  Pour  into  a  baking 
dish.  Top  with  a  rich  pastry. 
Slash  top  so  steam  may  escape. 
Bake  in  a  hot  oven  until  brown. 
My,  but  it's  good. 

20  When  the  parson  calls  fifteen 
minutes  before  suppertim.e  and 
you  know  he  is  going  to  stay 
awhile,  bustle  out  to  the  kitchen 
and  think  up  a  quick  dessert. 
(You  had  figured  on  giving  the 
family  a  piece  of  plain  cake  and  a 
sliced  banana.) 

21  You  may  glamorize  that  cake 
in  no  time  flat — and  save  the 
day.  Turn  1  cup  heavy  cream 
into  a  bowl  and  sprinkle  over  it  3 
tablespoons  cocoa.  Set  in  the  re- 
frigerator for  10  minutes.  Beat 

until  very  thick,  add  H  cup  sugar  and  J  2  teaspoon 
vanilla.  Spread  on  plain  cake  slices  and  serve  at  once. 
And  no  apologies  needed. 

22  Fried  chicken  is  at  its  best  right  now.  Clean  and 
disjoint  as  many  as  you  may  need.  Dredge  in  flour.  Dip 
in  salad  oil.  Drain.  Dredge  lightly  in  flour  again.  Season 
with  salt  and  pepper.  Fry  in  hot  fat  until  really  tender 
and  brown.  Genuine  cream  sauce  goes  here. 

2;i  It  sometimes  becomes  our  bounden  duty  to  change 
a  mayonnaise,  and  when  it  does,  use  lemon  juice  in- 
stead of  vinegar,  to  ring  the  bell. 

24  And  here's  something  that  comes  back  to  me 
and  it  is  of  a  deliciousness.  Make  a  meringue  as  you 
do  for  pie.  Drop  by  spoonfuls  in  hot  milk  and  poach. 
Drain  and  set  afloat  on  soft  custard.  A  dot  of  jelly 
here  and  there  and  you  have  Floating  Island.  Inde- 
scribable. 

25  Fruit  salad  is  very  chichi  served  in  avocados  hol- 
lowed out  somewhat— and  beautifully  garnished,  with 
ripe  olives,  perhaps. 

2tt  Sandwich  spread  coming  up :  Combine  %  cup  finely 
minced  bologna,  2  teaspoons  minced  parsley,  1  tea- 
spoon minced  onion,  %  cup  finely  minced  cabbage,  1 
teaspoon  prepared  mustard,  3  tablespoons  salad  dress- 
ing. 

27  And  here's  another:  Toss  together  %  cup  chopped 
cooked  shrimp,  M  cup  chopped  ripe  olives  and  I4  cup 
chopped  nuts.  Blend  3  tablespoons  mayonnaise  with  1 
tablespoon  lemon  juice.  Add  to  first  mixture.  Mix 
everything  lightly. 

2]t  Freeze  cranberry-juice  cocktail  in  an  ice-cube  tray. 
Add  a  cube  to  a  glass  of  pineapple  juice  for  a  zestful 
and  colorful  first  course. 

2f>  It  has  just  occurred  to  me  that  I  have  left  out 
some  brand-new  receipts — new  to  me — that  I  intended 
to  give  you.  Next  time,  I  promise. 

30  Now  that  it  is  April,  let  us  relax.  No  more  snow 
sliding  off  the  roof.  No  more  taking  a  little  flier  on 
our  own — well,  you  know  what.  Soon  it  will  be  ham- 
mock time.  This  year  I  intend  to  take  advantage  of  it. 


I.  \  l>  I  I 


1 1     1  ■     M     I  I     I  ,     1  1 


s  I 


mi  1  SOUP  anil  iiliiii  i  Ml 


IIY 


||„.  „„,^,. 
inf.  , liny  ,„„^ 
""  "I-  vmII  |„._ 


(IhiHo  your  t'yen.  Try  l<>  lumu*  21  nnu[m, 
Yiiii'll  lliiiik  of  liiiir  u  ilnxi'ii  fuvori(«*«  .  .  . 
iiiaylH-  iiiorc. 

Mm  vslial  aliniil  llir  uihiT  Houim?  If  you 
•  Inii'i  iiHi-  ilwiii,  yiiu'rr  iiiiHMiiig  ii  wlndi; 
griiii|)  III  ^ihhI  iiit-aU. 

S(iii|m  oiriT  ttd  many  nicallitm-  itimxiliili- 
lirs;  each  is  hi>  tlinnriit  in  lantf  ami  Irxlurc 
dial  wiirti  yon  plan  inrtuiM  anuiiiil  m>ii|i  .  .  . 
an  a|i|)i-alin^  varirly  is  hiuinil  In  rrnult. 

Tlial's  wliy  I've  .s<'|  llii><  hlidp- 
pinn  i^nuU:  Sliidy  it  lati-lulK.  Kacli  new 
soii[)  ymi  ili.tcovrr  will  lii-lp  yi'U  i  r<"Ul<r 
m  w  menu  iih  as  fnr  tnnic  inl<  ii  -ling  rnfals. 


'  • '    "  w  I. 

C«IAM  mt  CHlCKfW,  Ii 

"«•••»»   .frj„.  ^,  ^ 

Sill..,, It,,  (,.,.,fi.|,u,^  "  ' 

CMICKfN    wlfh    Rici,    I,,  , 



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CREAM  „,  ASPARAGUS:    S  .„  ,  ,  , 

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•ill.  ....,.|„..,„„  ,„,.,,  _  ""-l'"««v 
VEGETAKIAN  VEGETABt*.  1  < 

VEGETABLE:    Fourteen    differenr  ^ 
vcficlab  es  mint^leW  in  1.         ,  "^^"l  garden 
mingled  m  hearty  beef  stock 

CONSOMME:  Clear  beef  broth  flavored  .-ith 

c:M:o;s:^!'-'-^'--ts  (Serve 

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broth-perfectJvseasoned  ^  ^'^"^ 

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A  scene  in  one  nf  ihx  /  im  ,/)  (  /(  liihoratories  of  McDioricil  Center  for  Cancer  am!  Allied  Diseases, 
A't'ir  York  Cily.  In  these  hil'oralories.  research  on  liorniones  is  helping  to  shed  new  light  on  cancer. 

A  MESSAGE  OF  HOPE 
ABOUT  CANCER 


EACH  YEAR,  according  to  the  American 
Cancer  Society,  an  estimated  70.000 
persons  recover  from  cancer.  The  Society 
also  estimates  that  the  number  of  cases 
that  are  now  saved  could  be  tloiibled  if  pa- 
tients received  prompt  and  thorough  medi- 
cal or  surgical  treatment. 

Today  there  is  hope  for  even  greater 
gains  in  our  fight  against  this  disease.  This 
is  because  medical  research  is  constantly 
yielding  new  facts  about  how  and  why 
cancer  develops. 

Some  recent  research  findings 

In  surgery — increasing  knowledge  of 
the  body's  reactions  to  surgery  has  made  it 
possible  for  doctors  to  perform  major  op- 
erations with  far  less  risk  to  cancer  patients. 
Largely  because  of  greater  surgical  skill, 
the  number  of  patients  recovering  from 
cancer  of  the  head,  neck,  stomach,  and 
uterus  has  been  more  than  doubled  over 
the  past  few  years. 

In  chemotherapy — or  treatment  with 
chemicals — encouraging  progress  is  being 
made.  In  fact,  one  highly  experimental 
compound  has  been  found  that  totally  de- 
stroys certain  cancers  in  laboratory  ani- 
mals. Even  today,  somechemical  substances 
are  being  used  which  temporarily  inhibit 
the  growth  of  a  few  types  of  cancer  in 
human  beings. 

In  radiology — or  X-ray  treatment — in- 
tensive studies  are  under  way  on  devices 
that  are  not  only  capable  of  producing 
more  powerful  X-rays,  but  also  offer  hope 


of  a  more  effective  use  of  them.  Sub- 
stances produced  by  atomic  energy  research 
are  also  being  used  successfully  to  retard 
temporarily  cancer  of  the  thyroid  gland 
and  blood-forming  tissues. 

What  should  everyone  do  about  cancer? 

First — learn  cancer's  warning  signals 
which  are  listed  below.  Every  adult  should 
know  them,  as  a  wise  measure  of  self-pro- 
tection. Should  any  of  them  appear,  report 
to  your  doctor  at  once.  Remember,  how- 
ever, that  these  signals  do  not  invariably 
mean  cancer.  In  fact,  in  the  majority  of 
cases  the  suspected  symptoms  are  proved 
not  to  be  caused  by  cancer,  but  by  some 
other  condition  requiring  treatment. 

Second — have  periodic  health  check- 
ups. Cancer  may  develop  without  any  out- 
ward warning  signals.  Only  examination 
by  a  physician  may  discover  these  "silent" 
cancers  in  their  early  stages.  This  is  why 
periodic  medical  examinations  are  so  im- 
portant, especially  for  older  people. 

Third — do  not  rely  on  unproved  meth- 
ods for  the  treatment  of  cancer.  Only  sur- 
gery. X-rays,  radium — used  singly  or  in 
combination — can  remove  or  destroy  can- 
cer. In  skilled  hands,  Xht^c proved  methods 
are  successfully  controlling  cases  which, 
not  many  years  ago,  would  have  been 
judged  hopeless. 

Above  all,  remember  that  cancer  is 
often  cured  .  .  .  and  that  getting  to  your 
doctor  early  is  your  greatest  contribu- 
tion toward  recovery. 


CANCER'S  7  WARNING  SIGNALS 

'•  Any  sore  that  does  not  heal.  1-  A  lump  or  thickening  In  the  breast  or  elsewhere. 
3.  Unusual  bleeding  or  discharge.  4.  Any  change  in  a  wart  or  mole.  Persistent 
indigestion  or  difficulty  in  swallowing.  6.  Persistent  hoarseness  or  cough.  ^ ■  Any 
change  in  normal  bowel  habits.  (Pain  is  not  usually  an  early  symptom  of  cancer.) 


Please  send  me  a  copy  \ 
of  your  booklet,  453-J,  i 
"Cancer."  \ 

Nnmo 

Street 

City- 


.  Slcte- 


TAW  JAMESON 

(Continued  from  Page  54) 


doorsill  she  looked  back  at  Chloe.  "We're 
leaving.  Now.  So  be  ready.  Because  if  you 
aren't,  I  tell  you."  she  said.  " Sheep-eyes  here 
will  be  sorry  he  ever  saw  you." 

I  took  a  big  bunch  of  clothes  from  the 
closet  and  a  lot  of  stuff  from  the  bureau,  loo, 
because  by  laying  it  all  on  chairs  and  then 
folding  things,  I  could  stay  by  the  bags- 
over  near  the  open  door. 

The  outside  sounds  of  tires  on  gravel,  of  a 
man  stomping  and  exclaiming  down  the 
street,  and  the  faint-gasping  notes  of  brass 
and  violins  froin  the  gym,  all  these  simmered 
together  like  solid  things  on  the  hot  rich  air. 
But  the  sound  I  listened  for  ran  bleak  and 
separate,  the  little  wintry  stream  of  Chloe's 
voice.  Finally  I  could  hear  what  it  was  say- 
ing. 

"  and  what '11  come  of  it?  The  men 

who  took  the  bribes  will  lose  their  places  in 
the  legislature— maybe.  But  Mr.  Raskin 
will  lose  his  for  certain." 

"He  won't,"  Peter  said.  "The  only  thing 
is,  your  mother  may  lose  some  business." 

"Wait  and  see."  the  bleak  voice  answered. 
"And  you'll  be  smashed.  Out  in  the  open 
now— because  you  got  into  this." 

"Ah,  darling,"  said  Peter,  "you're  tired. 
Mr.  Raskin  has  taken  over  and  I'll  be  clear 
of  this." 

"When  you're  dead,"  Chloe  said.  "But 
maybe  we  could  manage  .  .  .  because  I  could 
stand  anything— if  you  would  just  be  fair." 

I  decided  how  Peter  must  look  now— as- 
tonished past  speech  at  any  idea  that  he 
wasn't  perfect.  And  Chloe's  voice  went  on. 

"  You  take  me  to  dances, 
yes — and  out  in  the  moon- 
light," she  said.  "But  when 
you  come  to  work  or  fight 
it  seems  I  won't  do.  When 
it  comes  to  something 
you'll  sweat  or  bleed  for, 
then  here  am  I  and  there 
are  you — gone  without  a 
word — out  alone,  to  gel 
torn  at— and  do  you 
think  I  can  just  not  fte— just  cease — then?" 

"If  you  would  try,"  Peter  said,  "if  you'd 
just  try  to  understand!" 

"You  could  have  told  me  something — just 
something,"  Chloe  said,  and  Peter — "No. 
Because  it  could  have  been  any  of  the  mills. 
And  maybe  I  could  have  kept  you  out  of 
this.  I  didn't  want  it  to  touch  you — not  even 
touch  you." 

"What  a  queer  ugly  thing  to  say,"  said 
Chloe.  And  presently,  when  the  silence  be- 
gan to  fill  up  my  lungs  and  head,  to  drown 
me  as  solidly  as  if  I  could  hear  the  mingled 
breaths  and  the  touch  of  flesh  to  flesh,  "If 
we  don't  know  each  other  now,"  Chloe  said, 
"I  still  remember  us.  But  you  don't.  You 
don't  even  remember  me." 

"Hush."  Peter  said.  "You  were  away  off 
froin  everything— and  closer  than  my  own 
bones,  always  fretting  the  marrow  of  them 
because  you  were  so  dumb  and  gay  and  you 
smelled  good  and  were  sad  Oh,  you  were 
funnier  and  more  beautiful  than  anything 
else  in  the  world,  and  — — " 

"And  now,"  Chloe  said,  "  you  can  act  as  if 
I  weren't  even  in  it.  As  if  " 

i*ETER  must  have  put  his  hand  over  Chloe's 
mouth.  Or  given  her  a  shake.  He  said,  "I 
kept  quiet  because  I  thought  it  was  best! 
We  can't  help  it  that  I'm  male  and  you're  fe- 
male and  I  liave  to  do  what  I  believe  and 
you  have  to  believe  and  follow  me." 

"Taw!"  Mrs.  Heyward  half  sat  up,  glar- 
ing at  the  overturned  luggage  rack  and  the 
spill  of  her  suede  hatbox.  "I'd  swear  you 
just  kicked  it  down ! "  she  said. 

I  gathered  hats  and  lingerie  off  the  carpel, 
hearing  Chloe.  "Folloiv?"  she  said.  "Why 
don't  you  know  you  have  to  let  me  in?  Don't 
you  know  I  can't  just  come— that  you  have 
to  take  me  with  you?  That  you  damn  well 
have  to  do  something  about  it ! "  And  I  heard 
the  sofa  springs  snap  with  Peter's  rising,  and 
his  heels  on  the  floor. 

He  said,  "I  could  pick  you  up  and  carry 
you  over  to  Cousin  Cal's  and  set  you  on 


Fun  is  the  ctieapest  medi- 
cine tliat  has  ever  yet  been 
discovered  and  the  easiest 
to  take. 

—JOSH  BILLINGS 


mum's  lap  this  minute.  And  I  could  say, '] 
here  now  with  me.'  But  would  that  do  a 
good?  No !  Nothing  will  ever  do  any  goodt 
you  get  up  and  walk  yourself!  Till  yc 
come—you— ol  your  own  will." 

Mrs.  Heyward  rose  up  exclaiming,  ai 
told  me  for  the  love  of  heaven  to  stop  W 
bumbling  and  go  and  have  the  bill  made  i 
and  bring  out  the  car.  She  was  reaching  t 
my  armful  of  stuff  when  she  saw  my  face  ar 
made  me  see  it  too— a  mess  of  angles,  i 
steep  ridges  undersmutched  with  dirty-lool 
ing  patches— hanging  there,  floating  on  tl 
lighted  mirror.  "Oh,  dear  God— you'i 
sick!"  she  said.  And  maybe  I  didn't  answi 
because  she  called  on  God  again,  wonderir 
if  Chloe  could  drive  us. 


And  Chloe  said,  "Why  not?"  For  ther 
she  was,  Chloe  alone,  in  the  doorway.  Hers 
lence— her  shut,  stiff  lips— told  how  empt 
the  sitting  room  was,  and  how  painfull 
crowded  with  objects  and  electric  light  it  we 
now,  being  empty  of  Peter.  ^ 
I  was  able  to  say  I  was  all  right  then, 
said  it  was  nothing  but  the  heat,  and  I  wouli 
be  fine  as  soon  as  I  was  driving  out  in  th 
air.  And  the  next  minutes  might  have  passe 
safely  except  that  in  the  middle  of  somethin; 
Mrs.  Heyward  was  telling  me  I  realized 
hadn't  heard  her— and  so  did  she.  When 
got  my  eyes  off  Chloe  and  saw  Mrs.  Hey  wart 
she  was  staring  at  me.  Then  her  amazet 
glance  rolled  off  to  Chloe  and  back  again  ti 
me.  Had  I  spoken,  had  I  said,  Yes.  I  too.  la 
ivell  as  Peter,  her  green  eye  would  have  wid 
ened— and  narrowed— a| 
it  did. 

In  the  nest  second 
while  Mrs.  Heyward  still 
stared  at  me,  t,h| re  passed 
over  her  faqe''  ^  lopk  ol 
grief  as  clear  as  it  wa? 
fleeting.  Nor  she  nor  j 
could  have  told  any  reason 
for  this.  I  didn't  yet  knoi 
y^;  that  I  who'd  been  traine 

to  gwe  service  fit  for  a  king  had  long  sine 
ceased  to  be  merely  a  means  to  an  end.  But 
had,  and  like  the  fortress  built  on  a  cliff  i 
the  inountains,  like  Castlecroft,  I  was  a  sig 
and  symbol.  Thus  I  mysteriously  partook  ( 
the  goal  that  beckoned  ceaselessly  to  Tii 
Dobey's  daughter.  My  heart  had  been  th 
last  place  in  which  to  look  for  treason. 

I  was  out  by  the  staircase  and  about  to  g 
down  it  to  the  lobby  when  I  heard  Chloe's 
footsteps  along  the  corridor.  I  turned  as  she 
came  up,  and  "Taw— find  him!"  she  said. 
Against  the  sound  of  her  mother's  voice  call- 
ing her  name,  "At  the  dance— in  his  room— 
somewhere— oh,  bring  him  back!" 

Mrs.  Heyward  was  now  in  the  doorway  ati 
the  end  of  the  hall,  seeing  us. 

"If  he  won't  come,"  Chloe  whispered, 
"tell  him  I  say  /  can — if  only  he'll  help  me 
right  now,"  and  she  turned  and  went  along 
calmly  to  her  mot  her. 

She  had  on  her  coat  when  I  got  back  to  the 
sitting  room.  Even  though  her  mother  was  in 
the  loom,  "What  did  he  say?"  she  asked. 
And  there  I  was  wailing,  as  she  was,  for  some 
answer  to  come.  I  couldn't  find  him,  I  told 
her,  I  had  gone  all  around,  and  no,  I  said,  I 
hadn't  gone  into  the  Callums'.  Then  because 
I  was  afraid  she  was  coming  round  to  face 
me  I  said  the  Callums'  house  was  dark  and 
looked  to  be  empty. 

By  and  by  something  touched  me.  It  was 
Mrs.  Heyward.  She  had  a  cigarette  in  her 
hand.  "Match,"  she  said.  And  when  I  held 
up  the  flame  and  saw  her  curled  lip  and  that 
glitter  not  quite  hidden  by  her  drawn-down 
eyelids  I  knew  how  poorly  I  had  lied.  So 
poorly  that  there  was  no  one  on  earth  who 
would  have  believed  me — except  Chloe. 

At  Washington  Mrs.  Heyward  was  full  of 
care  for  me.  She  wanted  to  make  sure  they 
gave  me  a  good  breakfast  at  the  hotel.  And 
when  we  reached  New  York  I  was  given  the 
evening  off.  And  a  ten-dollar  tip.  "Have  a 
good  time— see  a  show,"  Mrs.  Heyward 
said.  And  all  this  was  because  I  would  after 
(Continued  on  Page  76) 


I.   A    I)    I    K  s 


H    O    M  I 


Jul      It     N    A  I. 


MKS.  KI.I.KN  riU.K  ASTOK 

/  //'/.(■  Pond's  Dry  SLiii  C.mnn  so  much.  /'«/  nncr 
uillioiil  //lis  rich,  sojicnirig  cmtm."^ 


TIIK  VISCOIJNTKSH  HOYI.K 

"Viii  so  pivdsvd  Willi  I'lmil's  Dry  Skin  C.miw.  ff'on- 
dcrfiilly  rich,  you  fcrl  il  lirl/i  dry  shin  rifilil  iiu  iiy." 


im.  r  III  N  I  I       111    I  \  ^  M.\|s^. 

.iiniii  (1  w;  /((/;  til  iriliirr     yrl  lo 
iofl  to  vnoolft  on  .  ,  .  tjuicldy  !U)fii-n.\  dry  ikin." 


Doiit  let  dryijic/  s\An 
tliat  getting- old<*i 


give  ;>  ou 
loolc 


Almost  every  woman  afirr  25  (ami  sornt-  oven 
before!)  knows  that  dismaying  little  shock  of 
finding  dry  skin  signs — flaky  dry  patches,  tiny 
criss-cross  lines. 

At  about  the  age  of  25,  the  natural  oil  that  keeps 
skin  soft  and  fresh  starts  deereasing.  Kven  before 
40,  a  woman  may  lose  as  much  as  20%  of  this 
precious  skin  oil. 

You  can  offset  this  loss  of  natural  softening  oil. 
You  can  use  the  special  replacer  known  and 
loved  by  so  many  women  for  its  really  remarkable 
help.  You  can  use  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream.  Three 
features  make  it  extra  effective  for  dry  skin:  It  is 
very  rich  in  lanolin — most  like  the  skin's  own  oil. 
It  is  homogenized — to  soak  in  better.  And  it  has 
a  special  cmulsifier  for  extra  softening. 

Smooth  away  dryness— this  way 
Soften  by  night.  Cleanse  skin  thoroughly.  Then 
work  in  plenty  of  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream  over 
face,  and  throat.  Give  extra  strokes  where  skin  is 


dryest.  Leave  cream  on  a  few  minutes  —  then 
tissue  olf  lightly,  leaving  a  thin  veil  of  cream  to 
coddle  your  skin  while  you  sleep. 
Prated  and  soften  hyday.  Smooth  in  a  softening 
touch  of  I'ond's  Dry  Skin  Cream  before  you 
make-up.  This  rich  cream  guards  your  skin  from 
parching  winds,  dehydrating  dry  air  .  .  .  keeps 
your  skin  extra  soft  and  smooth-looking. 

Todav  more  women  are  buying  Pond's  than 
any  other  dry  skin  cream.  Use  this  remarkable 
cream  for  a  week.  See  if  it  isn't  the  finest  help  for 
dry  skin  you've  ever  used.  Get  a  jar  of 
Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream  todav. 


3  features  make  it 
extra  effective  for  dry  skin 

I.  Rich  in  lanolin 

2.  Homogenized 

to  soak  in  better 

3.  Special  emulsifier 
for  extra  softening 


\  Dry  Shn  \ 
\  Cream 

i  ^'KtAi.  rotMUlA 


Drying  starts  to  show  first  in  the  places  pictured  below.  See  how  best  to  help  correct  it! 


py-Dry  Eyelids  make  skin  look  darkened,  fade  out  eyes. 
Lighten  and  Sotien—Nighdy,  touch  Pond's  Dry  Skin 
am  to  inner  corners  of  eyes— tap  gendy  out  over  lids, 
ve  a  little  of  this  lanolin-rich  cream  on  all  night.  A 
:ial  emulsifier  makes  it  extra-softening. 


That  Matronly -Looking  Sagging  starts  to  show  so  un- 
pleasantly along  your  rhiii-line. 

To  Tone  Up  Chin-Line — "Pinch  along"  from  point  of  chin 
to  ears,  with  lanolin-rich  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream.  This 
treatment  gives  dry  skin  the  lift  and  rich  lubrication  it  needs. 


Dry  Skin  "Down-Lines"  by  your  nose  and  mouth  harden 

your  expression. 

To  Help  Soften  Lines — "Knuckle  in"  Pond's  Dry  Skin  Cream 
out,  up  from  nostrils,  mouth.  See  this  lanolin-rich  cream 
smooth  that  dry  look.  It's  homogenized  to  soak  in  better. 


L   A    I)    I    K    S  ' 


II    ()    M  K 


J    ()    11    15    N    \  I, 


CROQUETTES 


beaten 
Maine  SoM- 

''-n.SeJ/r'^'''o/''.eep;r;;-^^^^ 


Rich  in  Amino-Protein  for  Better  Nutrition 


No  matter  how  you  look  at  it, 
Maine  Sardines  give  more  on 
every  score:  1.  Satisfying  fla- 
vor. 2.  Contains  all  the  ele- 
ments of  the  essential  Amino- 
Protein.  3.  Economy — always 
your  best  food  buy. 

Maine  Sardines  are  a  health- 
ful food  that  tastes  so  good  and 
costs  so  little!  Penny  for  penny, 
Maine  Sardines  give  you  more 


body -building  Amino-Protein 
than  any  other  food. 

Maine  Sardines  are  packed 
under  rigid  Government  in- 
spection in  purest  vegetable 
salad  oils,  mustard  and  tomato 
sauces  . . .  many  brands  ...  by 
26  companies  in  47  modern 
sanitary  plants. 

Perk  up  your  menus.  Buy 
Maine  Sardines  today. 


gj^pg  From  Ihe  land  of  good  eating.  Sixty-two  tested 
■  I^EE  Maine  Sardine  recipes  plus  full-color  photographs. 


MAEVE 


A-6 


MAIL  TODAY! 
Maine  Sordine  Industry 
Augusta,  Maine 

Please  send  me  a  copy  of  the  new  Maine 
Sardine  Recipe  Book. 


Remember  the  name — MAINE 
for  sardine  value 
you  won't  forget 


Name. 


Address. 

City  

State  


THE  HIGH   AMINO-PROTEIN   FOOD.  ..AT  LOW  COST 


I 


{Coni  'inufd  from  Page  74) 
all  be  more  useful  than  dangerous— because 
everyday  Taw  grown-up-with,  half  chap- 
eron and  half  slave  and  getting  a  bit  seedy, 
was,  indeed,  as  good  a  dragon  to  guard  a 
princess  as  was  likely  to  be  found.  I  had 
turned  out,  after  all,  to  fit  nicely  into  Mrs. 
Heyward's  scheme  of  things. 

\  OUR  letter  of  the  fifteenth  was  right  there 
in  my  pocket,  Taw,"  wrote  Peter,  and  the 
fifteenth  meant  the  fifteenth  of  January, 
1932.  "I  happened  to  have  that  letter  with 
me  at  Mrs.  Heyward's  apartment  this  after- 
noon. Mr§.  Heyward  had  your  note  about 
your  radio  stock.  She  was  sincerely  grieving 
for  you.  You  always  were  a  little  peculiar, 
she  remarked,  and  sanitariums  were  such  un- 
wholesome places— "all  those  cooped-up  peo- 
ple absorbed  in  the  care  of  their  own  sick 
bodies.'  Through  being  up  there  so  long  you 
had  fallen  into  this  dreadful  state.  'Just  sell 
it,  he  says  and  put  the  money  in  his  bank 
account  — that  little  bit  left  out  of  those 
thousands ! '  cried  Mrs.  Heyward.  They  could 
tell  her  you  were  getting  well  if  they  liked, 
but  there  was  more  to  this  than  microbes. 
Nobody  — 'not  even  Taw'— would  normally 
show  such  apathy  in  regard  to  all  he  had  left 
in  the  world.  We  sat  in  that  oversize  Freud- 
ian confection  which  some  true  instinct 
obliges  her  to  call  the  'drawing  room'  and 
Mrs.  Heyward  said,  'He's  lost  touch.  Here- 
read  it  yourself.' 
That's  when  I  real- 
ized your  letter  was 
there  in  my  pocket . ' ' 

Up  at  Flower 
Lake  I  heard  of  tener 
from  Peter  than 
from  anyone  else— 
even  Ola-Mae. 
Chloe's  letters  were 
few,  and  they  were 
apt  to  come  two  at 
a  time,  since  some 
came  on  slow  and 
some  on  fast  boats 
from  all  those  places. 
From  Monte  Carlo 
or  Cape  Town  or 
Bombay.  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward sent  picture 
post  cards  of  monu- 
ments. Mt.  Vesu- 
vius and  some  long- 
tailed  birds  in  Tahiti 
were  the  only  mis- 
matching links  in 
that  global  chain  of 
marble  kings  and 
generals. 

Mrs.  Heyward 

had  never  got  over  

to   the  hospital 

while  I  was  there.  She  was  in  the  midst 
of  her  program  for  selling  slocks  and 
laying  up  cash  or  buying  b)onds,  and  right 
along  with  this  she  was  battening  down  her 
mills.  She  couldn't  do  much  with  the  other 
plants  of  Heyward  Consolidated,  but  with 
the  home  mills,  where  she  had  the  power, 
she  kept  cutting  expenses  until  Mr.  Hawks- 
worth  threatened  to  resign.  She  had  to  stop 
at  this,  not  being  able  to  afford  the  comment 
which  such  an  event  would  bring  up.  Because 
there  was  still  the  public  question  of  what 
had  happened  to  that  tax  bill  down  in  Ra- 
leigh. I  don't  know  what  it  took— money,  or 
just  promises,  or  maybe  some  fear  of  his 
own— to  keep  Mr.  Johnson  from  denying 
what  Mrs.  Heyward  claimed.  Anyway,  he 
didn't.  He  never  said  he  wasn't  acting  "in- 
dependently." He  never  said  that  he  hadn't 
simply  put  up  his  own  money  for  some  loans 
to  certain  legislators  who  were  friends  of  his. 

When  I  asked  the  doctor  what  it  was  cost- 
ing me,  being  sick,  I  found  out  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward was  paying  the  bills.  "She  wants  us  to 
get  you  back  but  quick!"  the  doctor  said. 
"Seems  anybody  else  she  can  hire  is  a  fool  or 
a  devil  dedicated  to  her  discomfort." 

Chloe  came  to  see  me  a  few  times  before 
they  stopped  her.  Mrs.  Heyward  was 
"afraid  of  infection"  and  the  doctor  didn't 
argue  that  pneumonia  wasn't  catching.  In 
September  when  the  X  rays  showed  how  it 
was  with  my  lungs,  he  said,  "It's  a  damn 


Next  Month 


Be 


</'///,  19,53 

shame.  But  it  seems  that  mother  did  know 
best." 

Soon  after  I  reached  Flower  Lake  there 
came  the  market  crash  and  my  radio  stock 
dived  down.  God  knew,  wrote  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward, that  except  for  my  pigheadedness 
she'd  have  had  my  money  safely  where  it 
belonged,  in  the  mills.  But  before  she  started  ' 
off  around  the  world  she  wrote  them  at 
Flower  Lake  that  she  would  continue  to  pay 
for  me  since  she  was  certainly  able— and  al- 
ways would  be— "to  take  care  of  her  de- 
pendents." 

I  should  have  felt  grateful.  For  the  bed  un- 
der me,  and  the  broth  spooned  into  me,  and 
thus  even  for  my  continuing  breath.  But  I 
just  lay  there  in  the  mountains.  Not  grate- 
ful. Not  anything.  There  were  doctors, 
nurses,  other  patients,  the  lake,  pine  woods, 
the  radio,  books.  And  me— lying  down  deep 
like  a  bone  or  a  stone  under  the  in  or  out  tide 
of  a  month  or  a  season  rolling  over,  under  the 
dappled  dark  and  light  of  night  or  day. 

After  while  I  noticed  I  was  the  object  of 
a  campaign.  The  doctor  began  sending  me 
packets  of  magazines,  and  each  day  I  was 
wheeled  out  and  left  where  I  had  to  talk  to 
people  who  were  able  to  be  up  part  time. 
Nurse  bought  me  a  new  fountain  pen.  Who 
did  I  think  I  was,  she  asked,  never  to  answer 
the  friends  who  wrote  to  me?  So  I  read 
through  ail  of  Ola-Mae's  letters  again,  and 
all  of  Peter's.  And  finally  I  took  the  little 
pile  I  had  from 
Chloe— and  broke 
open  the  unbroken 
envelopes.  By  this 
time  she  was  in 
Egypt. 

At  first  I  was 
puzzled  by  some- 
thing unfamiliar  in 
the  letters  that 
came  back  from  her 
travels.  Then  I  took 
it  in  that  Chloe  was 
ashamed.  To  be 
near  her,  Peter  had 
turned  down  a  col- 
umn job  on  the 
Charlotte  Courier 
and  wangled  him- 
self into  a  cub  re- 
porter's place  on  the 
New  York  Post,  and 
though  this  gave 
him  less  money  and 
less  time  for  his 
"real"  work  (his 
novel)  Chloe  had 
accepted  Peter's 
choice  as  gladly  and 
simply  as  he  made 
it.  Then  suddenly 
she  was  gone.  She 
who  was  twenty  years  old  had  been  carried 
off  as  helplessly  as  if  she  were  still  in  a  bas- 
sinet. And  she  was  ashamed. 

1  THINK  it  was  partly  this  shame  that 
clouded  her  meeting  with  Peter  after  nine- 
teen months.  I  had  some  account  from  him 
of  that  August  day  in  1931  when  Chloe  and 
Mrs.  Heyward  stepped  down  from  the  pri- 
vate plane  of  an  alcoholic  rich  young  man 
whose  pilot-chauffeur  flew  them— and  him— 
from  Chicago  on  the  last  lap  of  their  journey. 
Somehow  Peter  had  got  himself  there— at 
the  Aviation  Club  on  Long  Island.  He  said 
Mrs.  Heyward  was  embarrassed  by  his  one- 
and-only  suit.  In  those  trousers,  working  in  a 
tailor's  shop,  he'd  pressed  dozens  belonging 
to  other  men,  and  he'd  washed  dishes — and 
sold  dishes,  too,  in  Macy's  basement.  And 
maybe  it  was  not  only  the  sight  of  Chloe 
at  long  last — and  the  sight  of  the  tipsy  young 
man  who  called  her  Baby— that  turned  Peter 
pale  in  the  heat.  The  suit  was  heavy,  having 
been  bought  for  winter.  "My  ivord,  Peter!" 
said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "You  must  really  have 
made  a  night  of  it!"  Peter  rode  the  jump 
seat  of  the  limousine  going  up  to  town.  Mrs. 
Heyward  had  the  Chicago  boy  wedged  in 
between  herself  and  Chloe.  In  Peter  there 
was  no  understanding  of  Chloe's  tolerance- 
through-pity  for  this  creature.  And  Chloe 
didn't  know  that  Peter  had  put  the  price  of 
his  breakfast  and  lunch  into  meeting  her. 


H  AD  not  believed  surh  women 
existed.  I'd  read  of  beauty  so 
overwbelining,  so  brealh-lakinf; 
I  ha  I  even  to  gaze  upon  i(  was 
danger.  I  thoughl  il  had  gone  from 
ihe  earth. 

But  it  was  here.  Here — incon- 
gruous and  shoeking — pari  of  the 
woman  in  faded  cotton  and  broken 
shoes. 

In  a  harsh  voice  thai  betrayed 
her  soul,  the  slr  uiger  told  me  her 
married  name  .  .  .  the  name  I  had 
secretly  dared  to  cherish  .  .  .  the 
name  that  would  change  our  lives 
forever — and  bring  dark  fear  lo 

THE  LAUGHING 
STRANGER 

By  \  iiiu  Delmur 


(he  May  .Jouknal 


V    I)     I  I 


M    i>    M  I 


J    i»  I 


\  I 


77 


or 

he  "Minute  Minder  Man"  is  that 
remarkable  Httle  timing  device  made  by 
the  folks  at  Lux  and  installed  in  millions 
of  home  appliances  to  help  every  v\  onian 
live  and  feel  like  a  Queen  .  .  . 

While  you  relax  or  go  about  other 
duties,  it  automatically  times  the  food  on 
your  stove,  the  toast  in  your  toaster,  the 
clothes  in  your  washer  and  dryer.  No 
wonder  so  many  women  love  the 
"Minute  Minder  M-n" — he's  the  perfect 
servant  to  millions!  i^ook  for  the  Minute 
Minder  in  America's  better  cooking 
appliances,  washers,  dryers  and  toasters. 


Lux  is  equally  famous  for 
its  fine  line  of  alarm 
and  novelty  clocks 

and  the  portable 
Lux  Minute  Minder  — 
at  good  stores  everywhere 


/ 


YOUR  REMINDER  LINE 
THE  LUX  CLOCK  MANUFACTURING  CO..  INC.  •  WATERBURY,  CONNECTICUT 


1  could  Icll  liow  il  wi-nl  Willi  IVlir  iitid 
Chloo  juHl  from  licarinK  ulxful  the  way  Mrn 
Mi-yward  east-d  up  Hy  wmit-r  the  not  only 
loleralcd  IVur's  comiiiK  to  iIh-  apartMwiii 
Init  would  fvfii  inviif  liitn  fur  Sunday  IuirIi 
if  she  needed  an  extra  man.  Willi  Mrn.  I  ley- 
ward  so  relaxed  !  knew  more  than  C  IiIir-  or 
I'eler  lold  iiic  I  knew  I  he  dividing  ellecl  dial 
was  had  on  iluni  hy  all  llie  liinc  IVler  s|h-iiI 
In  employnieni  lines  or  al  other  work  ilian 
the  wriliUK  he  wauled  lodo,  and  hy  the  iime 
he  speni  in  writing  when  he  needed  lo  Ix- 
sleeping  while  Mrs  Meyward  never  at  any 
lime  ceased  railroading  Cliloc-  iiiio  endles« 
pari  ies. 

Mrs.  Meyward  said  I'eler's  hand  lo-moutli 
living  was  a  |K)se.  I  le  was  really  very  iK-rson- 
able,  she  said,  so  he  could  develop  conlatlH 
tafler  all,  somr  people  si  ill  had  money]  and 
Ihen  he  could  nel  mio  a  brokerage  house. 
Mill  I'eler  said  whal  he  had  lo  develop  was 
chai)ters  and  Ih.il  he  would  iK-ar  up  in  spile 
of  her  Ihinkinn  he  l(H)ked  like  a  cuslomers" 
man  and  ).;el  on  wilh  his  business.  He  was 
rcfusinn  any  money  Mrs,  Mebane  sent  him. 
In  Ileyward  she'd  taken  Miss  Latham  anri 
the  assistant  librarian  as  lx)arders. 

Tou  AKi)  spring  of  "XL  some  publisher  read 
a  story  of  Peter's  in  one  of  those  small,  non- 
paying  magazines,  and  sent  word  that  if 
Peter  had  a  book  on  hand  he'd  be  interested. 
IVler'd  lorn  up  his  old  novel,  and  hadn't 
finished  the  new  one.  So  he  bcKan  such  work 
that  I  didn't  hear  from  him  for  over  a  month. 
And  in  the  middle  of  that  month  Chloe 
packed  a  small  bajj  and  walked  out  of  the 
penthouse  wearing  her  pearls  and  her  emer- 
ald rin^,  and  wilh  nine  dollars  of  ix)cket 
money. 

That  Chloe  had  no  collenc  dcKrec  and  m  ■ 
experience  in  anything  at  all  would  have 
been  enouKh  to  keep  her  from  nettinv;  a  job. 
She  must  have  had  to  pay  in  advance  for  the 
little  bedroom.  Because  the  nine  dollars  only 
lasted  live  days.  And  then  accordinn  to 
Peter's  information,  which  he  passed  alon^  lo 
me— the  man  at  the  pawnshop  told  Chloe 
that  for  any  .uwjd-sized  loan  he  had  to  check 
with  the  boss.  It  look  a  while  lo  net  the  boss 
out  of  the  back  room,  and  he  was  still  argu- 
ing and  staring  at  the  pearls  through  his  eye- 
glass when  Mrs.  Heyward  arrived.  The  de- 
tective who  brought  her  and  the  shop  owner 
at  first  agreed  with  Chloe.  that  she  was 
within  her  rights  she  was  twenly-tw'o  and 
Ihe  jewels  were  her  properly —  but  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward was  in  fine  form  that  day.  so  presently 
they  were  helping  to  override  the  stubborn 
girl  who  lacked  a  proper  feeling  for  her  fond, 
distracted  mother.  Back  al  the  penthouse 
Mrs.  Heyward  got  up  a  special  dinner  parly 
where,  amidst  much  laughter,  Chloe  was  wel- 
comed home  from  her  quaint  adventure. 

They'd  kept  me  overlong  in  nursing  quar- 
ters, I  thought.  I  felt  really  strong  when  I 
moved  to  the  boarding  collage  late  in  May. 
When  the  doctor  lold  me  why  I  should  stay 
and  take  it  easy  till  autumn  it  only  sounded 
like  a  case  in  a  book-  like  somebody  else's 
sleazy,  ovcrmended  lungs  we  were  talking 
alxiut. 

The  collage  I  stayed  in  was  close  lo  the 
lake.  1  could  hear  the  water  stirring  all  night 
long,  and  in  my  sleep  this  sound  would 
change  until  whal  I  heard,  dreaming,  was  a 
far-off  calling  sound  that  was  made  by  all  the 
salty  oceans  of  the  world. 

At  midsummer  Peter  wrote: 

"I've  begun  my  boc.c  again.  The  editor 
said.  'Some  men  have  jumped  out  of  sky- 
scraper windows  and  God  knows  how  many 
are  living  in  barrel-slave-and-tar-paper 
houses.  There  are  bread  lines.  .■\nd  you  have 
brought  me  a  first  novel  in  which  all  the  ter- 
rors and  discoveries  are  those  of  a  child  in 
what  now^  seems  lo  have  been  a  fatuous  era. 
Your  whole  significance  as  well  as  your  solu- 
tion lies  simply  in  the  fact  that  an  individual 
grows  up.  I'm  afraid  such  a  novel  will  not  do 
in  these  times.'  What  he  might  have  said  — 
and  perhaps  whal  he  meant  me  lo  discover— 
was,  'Such  a  novel  would  have  to  be  better 
wTitlen.' 

"We'll  see  what  I  can  do  now.  with  fifty 
dollars  ahead  and  Chloe  gone. 

"She  went  with  her  mother  to  Newport  to- 
day." 


Mcia/  {\m\  Befff/  (l\o(Mi\  I 


Baked  in  extra-flaky 

STIR-N-ROLL  CRUST 

made  with  Wesbon  Oil 

My,  what  heavenly  pie!  You  bake  the  rich  brownie 
filling  right  in  the  pie  crust.  And  my,  what  flaky- 
flaky  crust  you  get  with  Wesson  Oil.  the  modern 
liquid  shortening!  Stii-N-Roll  pastry  is  so  fast,  so 
sure,  with  Wesson  shortcuts.  Wesson  pours  to 
measure,  stirs  in  fast— no  spooning-out  or  cutting- 
in  solid  shortening.  Pie  dough  rolls  out  easily  be- 
tween waxed  papers.  Here's  flakier  crust,  with  the 
extra  delicacy  of  milder  Wesson  Oil! 

CHOCOLATE  BROWNIE  PIE 


Oil 


America's  No.  1 
Salad  Oil  and 
Liquid  Shortening 


developed  by  Betty  Crocker 
STIR-N-ROLL  PASTRY  FOR 

Preheat  oven  to  375'  (quick  mod- 
erate) . 

Mix  together: 

1 13  cups  sifted  Gold  Medal  Flour 
*1  tsp.  salt 

Pour  into  one  measuring  cup  (but 
don't  stir  together) : 

1/3  cup  WESSON  OIL 

3  tbsp.  cold  whole  milk 

then  pour  all  at  once  into  flour. 
Stir  until  mixed.  Press  with  hands 
into  smooth  ball.  Flatten  slightly. 
Place  between  2  sheets  of  waxed 
paper  (12  in.  square).  Roll  out 
gently  until  circle  reaches  edges  of 


sfoff  of  General  Mills,  Inc. 
9-IN.  ONE-CRUST  PIE: 

paper.  (Waxed  paper  will  not  slip 
while  rolling  pastry  if  table  top 
under  paper  is  slightly  damp.)  Peel 
off  top  paper.  If  dough  tears,  mend 
without  moistening  by  pressing 
edges  together. .  .or  by  pressing  a 
scrap  of  pastry  lightly  over  tear. 
Lift  paper  and  pastry  by  top  cor- 
ners; they  will  cling  together.  Place 
paper-side  up  in  9-in.  pie  pan.  Care- 
fully peel  off  paper.  Gently  ease  and 
fit  pastry  into  pan.  Build  up  fluted 
edge.  Pour  in  filling  (see  recip>e  be- 
low) . 

*lf  you  use  Gold  Medal  Self-Risin?  Flour,  ornit  salt 
in  pastry  and  bake  in  slow  moderate  oven  (325^. 


CHOCOLATE  BROWNIE  FILLING 


Melt  together  over  hot  water: 

**2  sq.  unsweetened  chocolate 
(2  oz.) 

2  tbsp.  butter 

Beat  thoroughly  with  rotarj'  beater: 

3  large  eggs 
I2  cup  sugar 

the  chocolate  mixture 
^4  cup  dark  corn  syrup 
Mix  in:  ^4  cup  pecan  halves 


Pour  into  pastry-lined  pan.  Bake  40 
to  50  minutes  in  quick  moderate 
oven  (375°)  just  until  set.  Serve 
slightly  warm  or  cold  garnished 
with  ice  cream  or  whipped  cream. 
Serves  8  to  10. 

**To  tise  cocoa,  omit  chocolate  and 
sift  cup  cocoa  with  the  sugar.  Then 
add  h  cup  melted  butter  to  the  egg 
and  sugar  mixture. 


78  L   A    D    T    K    S  '       II    ()    iM    E       J    O    L     H    N   A    L  April,  1953 


Like  flowing 

new  life  in  your  hair! 

Finesse  Shampoo  cleanses  an  entirely  new  way! 
Attracts  dust  and  grime  by  "magnetic"  action  .  .  .  but 
leaves  in  those  natural  oils  that  keep  your  liair  bright 
and  beautiful.  From  one  Finesse 

  shampoo  to  the  next,  your  hair 

will  be  alive  with  highlights! 


Two  sizes:  $1.25  and  60c 


FLOWING  CREAM  SHAMPOO 


M 

there  goes 
perspiration ! 


Where  your  bath  ends  . . . 
Stopette  begins! 
One  swift  squeeze  of 
this  famous  flexi-plastic  bottle 
gives  you  double  assurance. 
Stops  odor  .  .  .  checks  perspiration 
. .  .  effectively,  throughout  your 
longest  day.  And  nothing 
to  stick  your  fingers  in  .  . . 
no  mess.  No  clogged  pores. 
Wouldn't  you 
feel  safer  ... 
with  Stopette? 

Tivo  sizes:  $1.25 
and  60c  plus  tax 


Wherever  good  cosmetics  are  sold. 


JULES  MONTENIER 


CHICAGO 


That  night  I  wrote  to  Mrs.  Heyward.  I 
would  leave  and  stop  the  expense  of  this 
place  as  soon  as  I  could,  I  said,  and  I  would 
not  forget  my  debt,  but  send  her  money  from 
whatever  employment  I  got  until  all  was 
paid  back,  no  matter  what  time  it  took.  I 
guess  only  her  dark  notions  about  t.b. 
colonies  kept  her  from  coming  right  after  me. 
She  called  me  long-distance,  and  was  I  insane, 
she  said— had  I  never  heard  of  gratitude?— 
and  if  I  expected  to  gallivant  off  to  some 
other  job  as  soon  as  she  had  got  me  well,  I 
would  jolly  well  get  no  reference  from  her. 

Chloe  wrote,  "Mummy  is  certainly  angry. 
But  I  think  you  ought  to  know  that  the  fact 
is  you  could  still  come  back.  You  know  I've 
always  thought  you  could  do  better  for  your- 
self, and  except  for  the  times— if  even  Peter 
had  a  job— I  wouldn't  mention  this.  Peter's 
letter  says  you  told  him  you  thought  of  ship- 
ping as  a  steward— and  maybe  the  best 
chance  would  be  there.  I'll  be  in  New  York 
right  afte'  Labor  Day— and  couldn't  I  be 
your  reference?  Anyway,  let  Peter  and  me 
know  where  you  are.  Or  tell  us  what  day  and 
hour  you're  coming  and  we'll  meet  your 
train." 

I  sent  off  my  letter  of  thanks  to  Chloe.  But 
I  kept  it  vague  about  what  I  would  do.  And 
when  the  time  came,  in  early  September,  I 
told  no  one  which  day  I  was  going  down- 
iest Chloe  should  find  out— and  I  got  a  room 
in  Brooklyn,  in  a  neighborhood  where  I 
would  never  suddenly  see  her  coming  to- 
ward me,  where  no  doorway  or  window  or 
turning  of  a  corner  could  betray  me. 

In  time  I  saw  the  new  Empire  State  Build- 
ing, splitting  a  cloud  in  the  Manhattan  sky. 
And  the  bright  cliffs  of 
Radio  City  dwarfing  the 
spires   of   St.  Patrick's 
Cathedral.  But  these  were 
just  alterations— tardy 
alterations  that  had  been 
designed  to  suit  the  yes- 
terday face  of  the  city.  The 
real  change  showed  in  the 
subdued,  Sunday  look  of 
llimgs.  And  this  wasspread 
out  through  the  streets  of 
every  borough,  wherever  I  went  on  the  track 
of  a  job.  If  you  remembered  the  crowded  traf- 
fic and  sidewalks  and  parks  and  stores  and 
theaters  of  1929,  then  you  might— unless  you 
were  one  of  the  thousand  people  who  turned 
up  at  some  one  place  and  time  in  answer  to  a 
call  for  fifty  workers— you  might  have  got 
the  impression  that  a  kind  of  solemn,  per- 
petual holiday  had  been  declared. 

At  the  end  of  October  my  landlady  said  if  I 
would  do  without  sheets  and  keep  my  room 
clean  I  could  stay  in  it  on  credit— unless 
somebody  came  to  hire  it  with  money  in  his 
hand.  Which  was  not  likely  to  happen  soon, 
she  thought.  My  suitcase  and  overcoat  and 
extra  shirts  brought  me  twelve  dollars,  and 
with  a  sweater  under  my  clothes  I  got  along 
nicely  until  the  middle  of  November.  Even 
late  in  November  it  was  not  cold  weather 
but  the  price  of  cobbling  that  sometimes 
kept  me  in.  Unless  I  thought  I  had  a  lead  I 
stopped  going  round  on  rainy  days  to  hear  it 
said:  Nothing  here.  Nothing  today.  Nothing 
here. 

I  was  lying  on  the  bed  in  the  last  light  of 
Sunday.  December  the  fourth,  when  a  knock- 
ing came  on  my  door  and  it  opened,  and 
Peter  and  Chloe  walked  in. 

M  TRIED  to  be  quick.  But  it  seemed  forever 
before  I  was  on  my  feet,  with  a  black  space 
around  me,  and  nothing  inside  my  light 
head  but  the  irritating  thought  that  if  I'd 
eaten  my  cup  of  beans  last  night  instead  of 
trying  to  save  it  I  wouldn't  have  been  caught 
this  way,  swaying  and  blinking  like  an  idiot. 
Finally  the  color  of  twilight  began  to  streak 
back  over  the  darkness.  And  then  I  was 
standing  open-eyed,  looking  into  Chloe's 
face  and  still  saying  nothing  because  here 
was  the  token— here  a  flinder,  a  petal— of 
the  nameless  mysterious  Thing  that  had 
disturbed  the  early,  far-off  years  of  my  life. 

Peter  turned  on  the  light  and  after  a  min- 
ute Chloe  said,  "  I'll  be  right  back  I "  and  was 
gone  away.  Peter  reached  his  hand  under  my 
arm  to  get  me  set  down  on  the  bed,  and  he 
took  the  chair  for  himself  and  gazed  at  the 


Conscience:  the  inner  voice 
which  warns  us  that  some- 
one may  be  iooicing. 

— H.  L.  MENCKEN: 

A  Little  Book  in  C  Moior 
(A.  Knopf,  Inc.) 


windowpane.  It  had  a  few  big  snowflakes 
sticking  to  it.  i 

"The  United  States  Lines,"  Peter  said. 
"Chloe  found  this  address  listed  at  their 
employment  office." 

The  coffee  was  still  smoking  in  the  carton 
Chloe  brought  up  from  the  delicatessen.  It 
did  me  good,  and  when  Chloe  had  the  sand- 
wiches all  out  on  the  bed  I  said  it  was  hardly 
five  o'clock  and  I  wasn't  hungry.  So  Chloe 
quickly  took  up  a  sandwich  as  if  she  was 
ravenous.  But  when  I  turned  away  she  laid  it 
down.  And  she  watched  me  until  I  was 
obliged  to  turn  back  again,  and  "Taw,  come 
home,"  she  said,  "please  come  home." 

At  Park  Avenue  Towers,  Peter  and  I  stood 
waiting  while  Chloe  paid  off  the  cab.  Behind 
her  back  the  doorman  was  letting  his  face 
tell  Peter  and  me— very  subtly,  of  course— 
what  he  thought  of  men  who  let  the  women 
pay.  He  glanced  down  his  nose  as  Peter  and 
Chloe  and  I  started  to  go  in — he  glanced 
down  just  when  the  top  of  my  right  shoe 
came  away  and  all  my  bold  crooked  toes 
came  sticking  out  sideways — and  then  I  was 
obliged  to  laugh  at  the  unsubtle  look  on  his 
face. 

"Of  course  I  remember  that  name!  What 
is  all  this?"  Mrs.  Heyward  said  into  the 
telephone.  And  then,  "Wait  a  minute,  Ce- 
cile— you  know  damn  well  it  was  that  woman 
who  kept  Chloe  out  of  the  Junior  Cotillion. 
And  she  ought  to  have  known  I'd  never  in- 
vite her  little  penny-genteel  brat  to  any 
party  I  gave  for  Chloe.  ...  I  don't  care  if 
three  years  had  gone  by,  and  I  can't  help  it  if 
Miss  Boxhall  got  her  wires 
crossed  about  the  invita- 
tions.  The  fact  was,  / 
hadn't  invited  that  snip. 
And  you  know  very  well 
I  didn't  point  my  finger 
at  her.    That  was  just 
made  up  by  the  gossip 
columns.  I  simply  asked 
her  to  leave.  And  if  it 
upset  her  to  have  her  so- 
called  friends  overhear  it, 
that  was  just  a  shame.  They  all  loved  it." 

Then,  "What?"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and 
was  silent  a  long  while.  "When  did  she  go 
on?"  she  said  at  last,  and  "Yes— I  see.  .  .  . 
No.  No,  thank  you,  Cecile,"  and  she  laid  the 
phone  down,  not  saying  "Good-by,"  but 
just  looking  at  the  wall  of  her  bedroom  and 
not  seeing  me  there  between  it  and  her. 

She  shook  her  head  at  the  lunch  tray  I  had 
brought  and  got  up  stiffly,  for  the  flu  had 
left  her  weak.  She  was  wearing  her  warm 
robe,  but  I  had  to  go  after  her  with  her  slip- 
pers. Because  she  went  off  stocking-footed 
toward  the  portable  bar.  The  apartment 
needed  something  new  in  it  for  Christmas, 
she  had  said,  and  that  outlandish  thing— 
made  of  Lalique  glass  and  green  rubber- 
was  still  in  the  living  room,  rolled  up  beside 
the  tree. 

I  would  have  lit  the  fire,  but  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward stopped  me.  "  It'll  make  those  damned 
needles  start  dropping  again,"  she  said.  She 
turned  her  glance  onto  the  sweet-smelling 
tree  and  her  shoulders  drew  up. 

I  thought  to  make  some  remark  that 
might  stay  her  hand  on  the  whisky  bottle. 
But  no  words  came  to  me. 

"Soda,"  I  said.  "You'll  want  ice,"  and 
Mrs.  Heyward,  who  had  poured  out  half  a 
glassful  of  Scotch,  said,  "No,  thank  you." 

I  went  to  phone  Ola-Mae.  "It's  your  day 
off,  isn't  it?  And  you  spent  all  your  Christ- 
mas money  to  get  me  up  here,  didn't  you? 
Well  then'"  Ola-Mae  said.  But  I  told  her 
again  I  thought  I'd  better  stay  in.  "Are  we 
going  to  miss  that  show?"  she  asked  dole- 
fully, and  I  said  not.  If  she  would  come  up  to 
meet  me  that  evening,  I  explained,  I  could 
leave  in  plenty  of  time. 

I  was  grateful  to  Ola-Mae.  She  had  got 
pleasure  out  of  her  day-coach  trip  to  New 
York  and  was  even  pleased  with  the  dowdy 
hotel  that  was  the  best  I  could  afford.  And 
each  night  when  I  fled  the  penthouse  she 
would  sit  with  me  in  quiet  friendliness  in 
some  little  restaurant,  or  she  would  walk  and 
walk,  as  long  as  I  needed  to.  She  asked  no 
(Continued  on  Page  fll) 


I.    A    l>     I     I      -  II  M     I         I     I.     I      I:      .     \  I 


Dry  skin 
can  be  joy 
-or  jinx! 

by  Rosemary  Hall 
jii;aut\  au  riiiiH  1 1  v 

")ry  skill  is  Ixiih  a  lilcssiii);  uiid  a 
•lirsc.  W  hich  it  is  in  ymir  case  is  ii|> 

()   villi.     IWd    Wdlllfll    I    (iislMISM'd  till- 

irohh-iii  with  jiisl  the  itthi't'  iluy  il 
list  rate  what  I  nicaii ! 


Thv  first  was  jjfalcfiil  f(ir  h»!r  natu- 
rally dry  complexion,  the  dvliaicy  it 
);a\e  her  skin  and  the  freedom  from 
that  "greasy"  look.  The  second  fell 
terrildy  alioiit  hers.  It  was  drah  and 
(laky,  so  her  niake-iip  looked  harsh 
and  little  lines  were  threatening  to 
hecome  wrinkles. 

Tiic  difTereiice  was  in  the  rare  they 
i;avc  tiii'ir  coinplcxions.  There's  no 
siihstitiitc  fill-  the  rcnuldi  use  of  the 
right  care!  But,  cheer  up,  it  needn't 
he  expensive  or  time-consuming! 

For  as  little  as  25«f  — 
you'll  find  the  best 
dry  skin  care  money 
can  buy,  <ind  one 
that  takes  less  than 
;>  minutes  a  day  — 
Woodbury  Dry  Skin  Cream! 

Tlie  thing  that  makes  Woodbury  re- 
markable is  an  ingredient  called 
Penaten  whicli  carries  the  softening 
oils  devp  into  the  corneum  layer  of 
your  skin.  Tiie  average  cream  simply 
greases  "  tlie  surface,  hut  Woodbury 
really  pen  el  rates! 

Here's  the  sitnple  routine 
that  makes  the  dijference: 

With  your  fingertips, 
cream  tliis  extra  rich 
Woodbury  Dry  Skin  Cream 
into  your  skin.  Leave  it  on 
for  five  minutes,  then  .  .  . 
tissue  off. 


Your  skin  will  have  a  new  freshness 
and  youthful  bloom.  Try  it  and  see! 
Woodbury  Dry  Skin  Cream  only 
costs  25^  to  91  <^  (phis  tax). 


ix^plic^s  (o  a 
|>(M  soiial 
(|ii(^s(i(>ii 


9 


a/cut' 


-^^^^2^^^^^^  ^^^^^ 


/ 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  1953 


1 


ABOVE:  Frost  plain  cake  all  over  with  a  cream-cheese  frosting, 
mark  off  and  cover  alternate  squares  with  well-drained  Del 
Monte  Crushed  Pineapple.  BELOW:  Bake  ham  loaf  in  a  heat- 
proof bowl  for  a  change — wreathe  with  hot  spiced  Crushed. 


lean  on  this  pineapple  more 

Just  zip  open  a  can  of  sunny  Del  Monte  Crushed  Pineapple 
—  and  there's  new  life  and  spirit  for  the  tiredest,  plainest 
dish  —  be  it  salad,  meat  or  dessert. 

Fact  is,  Del  Monte  Brand  Pineapple  has  a  superb  tropic 
flavor  that  makes  it  so  helpful  —  so  friendly  to  other  foods. 

That's  because  it's  neither  too  tart  nor  too  sweet  —  grown 
from  exclusive  Del  Monte  strains — picked  beautifully  ripe,  just 
when  natural  tartness  and  sweetness  are  in  perfect  flavor  balance. 

So  make  Del  Monte  your  brand  for  the  best  in  pineapple, 
too.  It's  not  expensive  —  it  works  miracles  in  everyday  meals. 


1  '^oSu&dus  ^^&unrb 


^4  brand  tn\\V'°^^  «,p,r«eaVP'e.^o, 

Del  Monte 

BRAND 

Pineapple 


ABOVE:  How  pretty  can  an  easy  dessert  be?  Make  up  packaged 
chocolate  and  vanilla  puddings  separately,  cool,  alternate  layers 
with  Del  Monte  Crushed  Pineapple.  LEFT:  4  more  styles  to 
try  (reading  from  left  to  right) :  Juice,  Chunks, Tidbits,  Sliced. 


witli 


l(  niitiinii  it  Inim  I'iiki  7Si 

[ucslions,        was  as  wise  and  skilllu 
11'  as  (liounh  slic  iiiKlfrsl(KKl, 

Nowadays  I  did  all  the  polisliinu  ;ind 
rt'ssinn  in  my  own  room.  Thi'  lil)ra^•y-dinin^^ 
oom  iiad  Ik'cii  lorn  up  by  tlie  diroralor  who 
.'i-nt  oH  in  a  hull  hcfori'  Clirislmas,  so  wliun- 
ver  IVtiT  came  he  and  Chloe  were  in  the 
)in  room  and  1  worked  in  mine.  Hecanse  the 
winninu  door  into  the  kitchen  was  not 
nounh  between  me  and  their  talk  and  their 
.ilences.  IVler  had  the  promise  of  a  job  and 
vas  driving  himself  to  linish  his  l)ook  before 
he  job  should  be^in.  Ikit  still,  with  Mrs. 
leyward  in  bed  and  less  able  to  harry  him 
ind  C  hloe,  he  eaiuc  often  to  the  penthouse, 

"I'll  Ki'l  <"il  Ihc  innuili  I  can,"  I  said  to 
)la-Mae. 

Mrs.  I  leyward  was  so  (|uiet  1  benan  to 
ihiiik  1  needn't  have  stayed.  When  1  looked 
11  at  her  1  lh<)u.i;ht  she  had  taken  to  reading, 
for  I  saw  how  she  sal  on  the  sola,  with  her 
:iead  bent  forward. 

Around  four  I  went  in  to  liuht  the  lamps. 
I  |)ulled  a  cord  and  there  was  Mrs.  Ilcy- 
ivard,  still  sittni.n,  with  an  empty  bottle 
idannlc  from  her  hands.  She  was  lookinj;  up, 
lot  at  but  past  me,  across  my  shoulder. 

"You're  supix)sed  to  lake  it,"  she  said, 
'just  lake  it.  Over  and  over.  Thai's  the 
secret  they  never  It'll  and  that's  all  Ihcrc  is 
;o  it." 

The  bottle  slipped  away  to  the  floor  but 
ihe  paid  no  heed,  and  as  I  set  it  on  the  bar 
;he  said,  "What  arc  you  supposed  to  do 
vhen  they've  slammed  a  door  in  your  face? 
I'll  tell  you.  What  you've  Li:ot  to  do  then  is 
velcome  any  snotty  little 
leifer  of  theirs  who  deigns 
.0  come  around  uninvited 
md   t^uzzlc   your  cham- 
xij^ne.    Because  if  you 
ion 'I    if  you  don't  keep 
:rawlin,i;    the  heifer's 
iiother  will  get  on  the 
;overnint!:  board  of  the 
JolonialL'lub  andkillyou 
vithaliltle black  ball  wiien 
raur  name  comes  up." 

Mrs.  I  leyward 's  head  fell  back  and  pulled 
he  loose  skin  down  over  the  risid  muscles  of 
ler  jaw.  lier  puffed  eyelids  dropped  shut. 
A  lien  I  tried  to  help  her  up,  though,  she 
vouldn't  be  touched.  I  heard  the  front  door 
:lose  and  knew  Chloe  was  home,  and  when 
;he  got  to  the  archway  I  shook  my  head  at 
ler,  to  keep  her  away,  but  she  came  on. 

"You  understand."  Mrs.  I  leyward  said, 
'you  understand,  of  course,  how  perfectly 
■xquisite  it  all  is.  It  breaks  their  hearts,  for 
nstance,  that  every  dear  girl  doesn't  get 
nto  the  Cotillion.  And  there's  never  any 
)ersonal  grudge.  But  certain  things  such  as 
lalural  feelings— are  simply  inappropriate 
o  their  membership,  that's  all.  They  have 
his  sacred  responsibility  to  the  milk  and 
loney  in  their  veins— and  everything  always 
lurts  them  more  than  it  docs  you." 

Chloe  slipped  out  of  her  coat  and  was 
naking  a  sign  for  me  to  bring  some  tea 
vhen,  "Doesn't  it?"  Mrs.  Heyward  said, 
because  now  her  eyes  were  open  and  begin- 
ling  to  glaze  as  they  stared  at  Chloe.  "  You 
hould  know,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  "and 
ou  do,  don't  you?  Because  you  know— and 
hey  know— that  you're  one  of  them." 

"Mummy."  Chloe  said. 

"Yes— mummy.  That's  a  fact.  Otherwise 
hey'd  have  had  you  leading  off  the  Cotillion 
n  the  first  place,  wouldn't  they?" 

"Did  I  tear  you  to  pieces — did  I  half  kill 
^ou  getting  born?  Oh,  mummy,  what  hap- 
pened?" Chloe  asked. 

Mrs.  Heyward  glanced  away,  looking 
lazed,  beginning  to  get  dizzy  now,  I  thought. 

"What  makes  you  have  to  hate  me?" 
;^hloe  said. 

Mrs.  Heyward  shook  her  head.  "You?" 
;he  asked,  questioning  and  confused.  Finally 
;he  said,  "  I  told  myself  it  was  my  part  of  the 
bargain.  It  was  only  fair,  I  told  myself.  And 

.0  "  Mrs.  Heyward's  arms  swept  in  and 

bided  over  her  belly,  as  if  the  spasm  of  labor 
ind  the  thrust  of  oncoming  life  were  still 
here,  and  Chloe  fell  back  before  the  look 
:hat  was  now  on  her  mother's  face,  a  bleached, 
istonished  look  that  said.  Here.  Here  is  the 


II    I  I 


ri  al  Iransnn  s.uon  unit  litjt  um  I.  Mlj-dtttii  td 
ami  Kuilly. 

Ihe  way  Mrn.  Heyward  «ikkw1  fwtk 
aKainsl  the  sola,  I  tliouKlil  Huh  wiih  ilir  min- 
ute when  tthe  iniKht  Huddi  iily  panHoul  Mul  I 
was  wrong.  C  IiIoc'h  hand  dropi.mn  down 
caught  Mrn.  l!eywar<rH  eye  and  nlie  H;nd, 
"Vou  think  men  are  jiiNl  crnzy  atxmt  you 
Well,  listen.  It's  not  you.  Not  you  or  m. 
anylx)dy.  Ami  tlu  y  always  tliiiik  it  c<., 
you    the  way  i(  d(xH  them.  Aiul  the  w. 
who  lall  for  It  Ko  around  trying  to  maki- 
what  guinea  pigs  can't  help  teem  like  a  noble 
accomplishment.  And  if  I  offe  nd  you  iluit'ii 
shame,  Ixrause  it's  lime  someUMly  (old  you 
the  truth  even  if  you  arc  a  Heyward,  A  Hey 
ward  of  Heyward    that's  lovely,  mn'i  ii - 
Hut  what  alxiiit  Tun  |)olx-y?  He  waM  your 
graiidf.ither    and  a  cheat." 

"Never  mind,"  CIiIir-  said,  coming  for- 
ward and  kneeling  down,  "Ah 
don't  miiuf 


Ml.        i    <i    I      |(     N     \  I 


n  I 


imiininy. 


Goodness  is  easier  to  rec- 
ognize than  to  define;  only 
the  greatest  novelists  can 
portray  good  people. 

W.  H.  AUDEN 


ing 
now." 

"No,  don't  niimi,"  s;iid  Mrs.  Heyward. 
and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  And 
this  was  the  minute  the  time  whi-n  she  was 
gone  out. 

K  got  her  laid  around  straight  on  the 
sofa  and  1  brought  the  silk  (|uill  for  her. 
By  six  o'ck)ck  her  unreal  sleep  was  thinning 
out  on  her.  She  bi'gan  sighing  and  tossing, 
so  I  readied  the  tray  of  hot  tea  and  ftxxl, 
and  w^hen  1  t(K)k  it  in  her  eyes  opened.  She 
stared  around  blindly  until  Chhx:  t(niched 
her. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  and  dragged  her  hands  up 
to  rub  her  eyes.  "Oh,"  she  said  again,  in  some 
way  rel  ie  ved , ' '  you  're  back . 
What  time  is  il?" 

"Teatimc,"  Chloe  an- 
swered, but  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward said,  "No,"  and 
labored  to  prop  herself 
on  one  elbow.  "Don't 
you  think  I  know  wlia 
day  it  is?"  she  said.  "It's 
Thursday.  Taw's  gone." 
With  that  I  came  around 
the  sofa,  and  recollection 
began  to  struggle  up  in  her. 

We  had  to  coax  the  first  mouthfuls  of  food 
into  her.  But  as  tea  went  along  she  protested 
less,  and  she  was  eating  of  her  own  accord  by 
the  time  the  doorbell  rang. 

I  don't  know  how  Joseph  Gruber  got  him- 
self past  the  setup  downstairs  without  being 
announced,  but  when  I  opened  the  door  there 
he  was,  hat  in  hand.  He  evidently  thought 
Mrs.  Heyward  wouldn't  receive  him  if  she 
had  warning.  And  had  he  come  at  any  other 
time  than  this  she  wouldn't  have.  But  now, 
with  her  brain  and  her  eyes  clearing  to  the 
flood  of  hot  tea  and  the  solid  meal  sand- 
wiches inside  her,  she  sent  Chloe  running  for 
her  powder  puff,  and  she  told  me  to  show  Mr. 
Gruber  in. 

It  wasn't  long,  maybe  twenty  minutes  or 
so,  before  he  was  gone. 

And  when  he  scrambled  away,  fleeing 
down  the  hall  to  fumble  his  own  things  out 
of  the  coat  closet  before  I  could  help  him, 
Mrs.  Heyward  still  stood  there  before  the 
high  curtains  of  the  big  room. 

"Can't  you  understand?"  she  said  to 
Chloe.  "He  couldn't  manage  even  if  we  gave 
him  the  lot!  Someday  you'll  thank  me.  Oh, 
never  out  of  your  mouth— I  know  that !  But 
you'll  see  what  it  means.  You'll  be  able  to 
put  up  a  big-income  building.  With  that 
corner  lot  fitted  in  you'll  really  have  some- 
thing." 

"And  I  won't  want  it.  I'll  want  never  even 
to  see  that  block,"  said  Chloe,  who  was  as 
pale  as  her  mother  was. 

Chloe'd  heard  the  whole  of  what  passed 
between  Joseph  Gruber  and  Mrs.  Heyward 
while  I  was  waiting  in  the  kitchen.  I  had 
finally  sat  down  there,  when  "Taw!"  Mrs. 
Heyward  called  out  loud,  above  Mr.  Gru- 
ber's  talking.  She  said  something  to  him  as  I 
went  in,  and  "  I  can't ! "  he  cried  back  at  her. 
"You  know  I  can't!  If  I  was  doing  enough 
business  to  pay  rent  anywhere  would  I  be  up 
here  out  of  Heyward?  Would  I  be  on  my 
knees  about  the  mortgage?  You've  got 
enough  to  wait  till  hell  freezes  over,  but  you 
can't  wait  till  things  get  better.  So  come 
(Continued  on  Page  S3) 


LEAN  BEEF  . .  lots  of  it, 

slow-cooked  in  rich  ^ravy  with 
potatoes  and  carrots  in  this 

BEEF  M 


^^Last-minute''suppGr  stars 

omry  moore  beef  stew 


Take  il  easy  tonight . .  .plan  a  quick  and  wonderful  supper  around  Dinty 
Moore  Beef  Stew.  It's  America's  favorite  beef  stew...  a  full  pound- 
and-a-half  of  lean  juicy  beef,  golden  carrots  and  firm  white  poiatoes 
in  a  rich  brown  gravy.  Just  heat,  serve,  and  listen  for  compliments  I 

Dinty  Moore  Beef  Stew 
Crusty  Rolls  Grape  Jelly 

Cabbage  and  Sweet  Pickle  Slaw 
*Spicy  Pink  Applesauce,  Cookies 

*Heat  canned  applesauce  with  tiny  red  cinnamon  hearts.  Serve  warp 


NODMEL 


Geo.  A.  He-  e      Cc    A    •  -   ■  ■  — 

Hear  MUSIC  WITH  THE  HORMEL  GIRLS  •  Saturday,  CBS 


82 


L   A    1)    I    i;    S  '       II    ()    i\l    V.  JOURNAL 


April.  I 


How  to  pick  pretty 
that  stay  pretty. 


Fashion  this  spring  calls  for  a  slim,  But  the  trick  is  to  hold  that  fit  and 

straight  Silyrt  .  .  .  and  what  could  be  fashion  ofler  washing !  And  that  trick  is 

handsomer  than  this  button-on-the-  easy  if  you're  sure  your  cottons  are 

side  beauty?  trade-marked  "Sanforized." 


Denim  slacks  ...  a  perfect  choice  for  If  you  don't  want  them  to  hug  too 

gardening,  working,  playing!  They'll  tightly  after  a  few  dunkings,  make 

take  lots  of  good,  hard  wear  .  .  .  and  certain  they  have  a  "Sanforized"  label 

they'll  wash  like  a  dream  BUT  ...  ...  then  they  can't  shrink  out  of  fit. 


This  crisp  cotton  slip  does  double  duty.  But,  alas,  shrinkage  has  taken  its  toll.  1 

A  necessity  —  yet  its  lacy  hem  also  How  unnecessary  ...  because  it  takes  1 

gives  an  entrancing  swing  to  a  pretty  just  a  second  to  look  for  the  "Sanfor- 

party  dress.  ized"  label  on  any  cotton  you  buy.  1^. 


Moral : 

No  matter  how  much  (or  how  little)  you 

pay  for  your  cottons . . .  the  time  to  avoid  i 

shrinkage  is  before  you  buy. . .  always  insist  ^ 

on  seeing  the  "Sanforized"  label  with  your 

very  own  eyes. 


Cluett,  Peahody  &  Co.,  Inc.  ■permits  use  of  its 
trade-mark  "Sanforized,"  adoptedin  19.30,  only 
on  fabrics  which  meet  this  company's  rigid 
shrinlcage  requirements.  Fabrics  bearing  the 
trade-mark  "Sanforized"  will  not  shrink  more 
than  1  %  by  the  Government's  standard  test. 


(('oiililiiinl  lin/n  I'liiii  Slj 

t'Sflay  you  uol  the  premises  of  a  sIhk-  store, 
ause  you  own  the  side  |)iece  on  Khn  and 
side  on  Stoni'r  Street  you  not  to  take 

ay  my  kid's  clianres.  You  to,  you  just 
to,  haven't  you?" 

\nd  wlien  Mrs.  Ileyward  said  that  he  was 
kinn  nonsense.  "Tlie  truth  I'm  talking!" 
le  (iruber  eried  "And  why  it  is,  is  you 
n't  know  al)<)ut  liavinu  to  make  a  living 
d  wantiiiK  to  make  it,  a  livinn,  see?  Ik-- 
ase  all  you  want  is  to  die  rich,  that's  all! 
lat's  all  you"- .losepli  (irulxT  snatched 
a  Kreat  breath,  but  then  il  wheewd  out 
ipty  ol  words,  because  lie  was  staring 
ape  at  Mrs.  Ileyward.  wiio  backed  away 
)m  liim,  sk)W  and  heavy,  and  as  wide-eyed 
iumself-  "you  .  .  .  want,"  lie  said  at  last, 
len  he  turned.  And  ran. 
"  YoK  can  afford  to  be  s(|ueaMiish,"  (."iil(H''s 
other  said  to  iier,  "because  /  lake  care  of 
)U,  as  I  took  care  of  many  lhin^,'s  for  your 
tiler.  Hut  I  can't  ^o  two  ways  at  once.  I 
n't  lake  care  of  this  little  .jew  Ux)." 
Ciiloe  turned  away,  and  "Why  doesn't  he 
I  to  Aaron  Schwartz?"  her  mother  asked. 
Because  he's  loo  far  vsmn  to  ^;et  a  loan. 
hat  he  wanls  is  a  liandoiil.  Well,  let  Aaron 
ke  care  of  iiis  own." 

Wiien  I  came  back  from  puttinn  up  the 

lilt  Chkie  was  saying,  "  and  instead, 

lu  could  have  made  a  friend." 
"\'()u  mean  I  could  have  dearly  t)ou^,'iU 
c  favor  of  lhal  distorted  little  creature, 
ell,  I  don't  want  it!"  Mrs.  Heyward 
issed  a  hand  across  her  forehead.  "Wiiy 
ould  1?  It's  worth  nothinti;!  And  I  —I  don't 
7nl  it !"  The  sunken  places  under  her  eyes 
?re  very  dark.  "I'll  Iniy  me  no  friends." 
id  Mrs.  Heyward.  Then  she  clasped  her 
mples  where  the  pain  was  risint;  now  and 
Dked  oul  belween  her  hands,  and  "Taw, 
aw,  where're  you  going? "  she  said. 

my  room,  I  told  her,  because  I  hoped  I 
luld  follow  Ihc  evening  plans  I'd  made.  She 
ok  a  few  dragging  steps  and  sat  down  in  a 
lair.  She  was  impatienl  when  Chloe  sug- 
■sted  aspirin  for  her,  so  Chloe  said  all  right 
len,  Ihe  Luminal,  and  she  could  have  a 
K)d  sleep. 

"Of  course,  get  rid  of  me,"  said  Mrs.  Iley- 
ard.  "Just  dose  me  up  and  send  me  to  sleep, 
'hy  not?  No  trouble  at  all."  And  then  be- 
luse  Chloe's  gaze  didn't  waver,  "What 
ould  it  cost  me  to  be  read  to?"  she  asked. 
\  new  ermine  jacket?  What,  for  instance,  to 
ive  a  little  care  or  be  humanly  associated 
ith  for  just  one  evening?" 
Before  Chloe  could  answer,  "Go  get  the 
uff— and  ,get  it  into  me,"  her  mother  said, 
and  then  hustle  me  in  there  where  I  can 
ok  at  the  wall.  Or  listen  to  the  radio 
orons.  At  least  they  cut  off  other  nauseat- 


>    ^   i<    I    I  II  <i 

ing  sounds.  Hui  y.ni  and  I'ei.-r  carrying  on 
out  here  you'd  rallu-r  I  sli-pi,  wouldn't 
you?  Or  is  this  oiu-  of  the  niKlit*  wlu?n  you'll 
go  oil  and  come  crecpinK  in  at  an  hour  ilint 
shames  me  in  this  building?" 

It  made  no  sound,  the  ttofl.  quick  way 
Chk)e  went  over  the  car|)el  and  drew  up  the 
hassock  and  sat  down  close  to  lier  inotlier, 
"What  shall  we  read?"  she  said 

Mrs.  Ileyward  blinked.  For  a  Hecond  I 
thought  she  was  going  to  cry  oul,  hut  then 
she  just  jerked  hersilf  Uickward  as  if 
ChkK-  had  hit  her.  The  jeweled  clock  licked 
on  the  i.ible  while  her  head  lay  still,  twisted 
asifk'  against  Ihe  chair. 

I.<(H)K  at  me."  C  lilue  said  "Ik-cause  now 
we  can  stop  ruining  and  wasting  everything 
and  iM  ing  kmely  and  and  stupid,  t)ecaiis<' 
now  I  know  oh,  listen,  lxcaus«-  now  I  d<i 
know  how  it  is  with  you,"  She  leaned  around 
trying  to  see  into  her  mother's  eyes.  Hut 
Mrs.  Ileyward's  eyelids  were  held  down  in 
the  harsh  mask  of  her  face,  and  "Listen 
listen  and  help  me!"  Clik)e  cried. 

The  (kH)rlKll  gave  olT  Peter's  ring,  one 
k)ng,  one  short. 

"Oh  my  Ciod."  Mrs.  Heyward  sjud,  anrl 
pushed  out  of  her  chair. 

"I  rememlKT  her  coming  in  Ik-Ik's  with 
lhal  foreign  teacher  woman  hanging  onto 
her.  And  she  was  a  darling  kid,  and  smart 
loo.  But  now.  what's  the  mailer  with  that 
girl?"  asked  Ola-Mae,  watching  me.  "Why 
don't  she  go  on  and  marry  him?  Why  don't 
she,  since  it  seems  like  she  can't  find  space  in 
her  head  for  anything  but  him!" 

We'd  met  Ola-Mae  in  the  k)bby  of  Park 
Avenue  Towers,  Peter  and  I,  having  ridden 
down  together  from  the  iK-nthouse.  He 
hadn't  stayed  up  there  long.  The  minute  he 
arrived  Mrs.  Heyward  went  into  her  bed- 
r(x)m,  where  Chloe  followed,  and  as  soon  as 
Chloe  came  oul  again  Peter  asked  her  to  gel 
her  coat.  When  she  said  no,  because  they 
were  going  to  stay  in.  he  ought  to  have 
spoken  up  then  and  there.  Bui  he  just  stood 
kx)king  as  if  he  couldn't  wail  live  seconds  for 
me  to  leave  them  alone. 

From  the  kitchen  I  heard  their  voices. 
"Anywhere,"  Peter  said,  "anywliere  on 
earth  except  this  grisly  room ! "  And  "  It  does 
matter.  If  we  don't  gel  out  of  here  I'll  write 
worse  tomorrow  than  I  did  today." 

The  next  I  heard,  "  Is  she  sick  again?"  he 
asked. 

"No,"  Chloe  answered,  "and  she's  angry 
now.  But  if  she  can't  sleep,  if  she  should  call 
me  later,  I  have  lo  be  here.  It's  just  this  par- 
ticular time.  You  don't  know  how  she  is  to- 
night, but  I  think  I  can  " 

"  I  know  how  she  is,"  Peter  said.  "And  you 
ought  to  know  it's  not  this  or  any  particular 


H.t 


Chlorodent 

gives  you  a 

Cleaner,  Fresher, 
Healthier  Mouth! 

proved  by  test... 
after  test. . .  after  test ! 


CLEANER! 
Proved  at  famous  university! 

Univonsity  (k-ntal  i-xpcrl.s  iiiadi,'  .'Wf) 
tests  with  white,  ammoniatod  and  chlo- 
rophyll toothpastes  .  .  .  found  that 
Chlorodent's  patented  cleansing  in- 
gredient kept  teeth  cleanest.  Chlorodent 
also  strikes  at  the  very  causes  of  tooth 
decay.  Use  it  regularly! 


FRESHER! 

Proved  at  leading  laboratory! 

In  nearly  1000  tests,  scientists  com- 
pared Chlorodent  with  a  nationally 
known  non-chlorophyll  toothpaste  for 
controlling  bad  breath.  Chlorodent's 
special  chlorophyll*  formula  gave  twice 
as  many  people  freedom  from  mouth 
odors  for  up  to  four  hours. 


HEALTHIER! 

Proved  at  Boys  Town! 

Boys  Town  dentists  found  Chlorodent 
twice  as  effective  as  a  fine  white  tooth- 
paste for  quickly  reducing  acute  gin- 
givitis, a  widespread  mouth  disorder. 
Boys  Town  co-operated  in  this  research 
wholly  in  the  interest  of  child  health. 
See  dentist  if  mouth  troubles  persist. 


Ctilurodc  iil  kec-pH  ttt-lh  brigtil  and  sparkling! 


.  Li 

Chlorodent  destroys  mouth  odors  instantly! 


416  boys  took  part  in  thi.s  research  project. 


Unconditionally  guaranteed  by  Lever  Brothers 
Company  to  do  more  for  you  than  any  other  dentifrice 
— white,  ammoniated  or  chlorophyll— U>  give  you 
a  cleaner,  fresher,  healthier  mouth — or 
money  back. 


=  wat<*r-»oluMe 
chlorophyllln* 


Also  in  loolh  powder 


As/f for'  CHLORODENT 
World's  Largest  Selling  Chlorophijll  Tbof/ipasfe 


T.   A    I)    I  K 


II    ()  M 


J    ()    I     K    N    A  1, 


Ai>iil,  IS 


Srer  Rabbit  says: 


Harn'h'Pineapl^lreafl 

Molasses  wikV&&  if  -fasfe  wwKterfiiH 


Start  with  a  ham  slice  of  about  2 
lbs.,  cut  1"  thick;  slash  edge  of  fat 
in  several  places;  stud  with  whole  cloves. 
Place  in  greased  baking  dish. 


Cover  with  6  slices  of  canned  pine- 
apple.  Mix  together  ]-2  cup  Brer 
Rabbit  Molasses  and  \i  cup  of  the  pine- 
apple syrup.  Pour  over  the  ham. 


c  Cover;  bake  in  mod.  oven,  350°F.  6  happy,  hungry  people  — who  will 
*•    50-60  min.,  basting  frequently.  Serves     surely  say:  "Best  ham  I  ever  tasted!" 


From  down  where  sugar  cane 
grows  juicy  and  sweet  (thanks 
to  the  sun  and  soil  down  New 
Orleans  way)  comes  a  molas- 
ses fine  cooks  long  have  treas- 
ured. Brer  Rabbit  New  Orleans 
Molasses !  A  wholesome,  "natu- 
ral" sweet  that's  rich  in  iron 
needed  for  good  red  blood. 

And  as  for  ^at'or— you  just 
don't  know  how  delicious  ham 
can  be,  till  you  taste  it  cooked 
with  Brer  Rabbit!  B 
Enjoy  that  famous 
"New  Orleans"  fla- 
vor in  gingerbread 
and  cookies,  too. 
There's  nothing- 
like it. 

letter  in  oM  molasses  recipes 

Gold  Label  Brer  Rabbit— 
lighi,  mild.  Green  Label — 
dark,  full-flavored. 

Made  by  the  Makers  of  My-T-Fine  Desserts  j 
and  Vermont  Maid  Syrup 


. . .  and  for  dessert 
WORLD'S  FINEST  GINGERBREAD 

Quick  and  easy,  no  mixing  bowl  needed, 
no  creaming  of  shortening, no  egg-beating! 
Only  home-mixed  gingerbread,  made 
with  flavorful  New  Orleans  Molasses,  is 
so  tender,  so  rich,  and  delicious! 


I  Yi  Hp.  bal<ing  soda 
I  Itp.  cinnamon 
I '/}  tsp.  ginger 
Vi  tsp.  salt 
y*  c.  hot  water 


c.  shortening 
VA  c.  Brer  Rabbit 

Molatset 
I  egg 

2Mi  c.  sifted  all- 
purpose  flour 

Melt  shortening  in  3-  or  4-quart  saucepan 
over  very  low  heat.  Remove  from  heat; 
let  cool.  Add  molasses  and  egg;  beat  well. 
Sift  together  flour,  baking  soda,  cinnamon, 
ginger  and  salt;  add  alternately  with  hot 
water  to  first  mixture.  Line  8'  x  8"  x  2" 
pan  with  greased  waxed  paper;  pour  in 
batter.  Bake  in  moderate  oven,  350°F., 
40-45  minutes  or  until  done.  Cool  5  min- 
utes. Remove  from  pan. 


 I 


BRER  f^troJ&u>  MOIASSES 


lime,  but  will  be  all  the  lime,  as  long  as 
you'll  go  on  with  il.  There'll  always  be  some 
reason  why  you  can't  come  with  me.  If  you 
sit  here  tonight  and  " 

"When  you  write,"  Chloe  said,  "you  may 
be  able  to  decide  just  exactly  how  every- 
thing is,  and  what  everybody  ought  to  do. 
But  please  just  try  to  control  your  God- 
complex  when  you  come  to  " 

Peter  must  have  touched  her,  the  way  she 
stopped.  "We  needn't  stay  in  here,"  she  said 
then.  "We  can  be  in  my  room." 

"How  simple,"  Peter  said.  "Just  settle 
down  peacefully  in  that  thoroughgoing  bed- 
chamber. What  do  you  think  I'm  made  of?" 

"Nails."  said  Chloe.  And  in  the  following 
silence  I  found  myself  at  the  swing  door, 
pushing  it  back.  For  a  second  they  stood 
apart,  pale  and  still.  But  then  as  if  each 
wielded  and  yet  staggered  before  a  whip 
they  came  harshly  together. 

Even  in  the  dark  in  my  room  it  wouldn't 
end.  The  v.'hile  hand  was  still  rising  clenched 
while  the  body's  profile  arched  and  strained 
the  silk  and  trembled. 

I  got  the  light  on  in  my  room,  and  I  got 
my  house  jacket  off  and  my  other  clothes  on. 
I  got  myself  dressed  and  through  the  kitchen 
door  into  the  outer  vestibule.  I  was  there, 
holding  to  the  mail  chute  and  ringing  for  the 
elevator  when  Peter  opened  the  front  door  of 
the  apartment.  He  didn't  see  me  because  he 
was  looking  back  into  the  foyer.  Chloe  stood 
glimmering  at  its  center  while  her  dozen  re- 
flections floated  like  ghosts  in  the  long  smoked 
mirrors.  Peter  waited  on  the  doorsill.  "Be 
with  me,"  he  said — "come  with  me." 

"Stay  with  me,"  said  Chloe. 

So  then  Peter  turned  round  and  saw  me 
and  his  hand  fell  off  the  doorknob.  But  he 
got  into  his  coat— without  my  help— and 
said  that  we  could  share  a  cab  downtown. 

Because  I  came  back  along  the  side  street 
I  went  past  the  down-tunneled  place  that  led 
to  the  basement  garage  of  Park  Avenue  Tow- 
ers and  which  had  in  its  side  wall  the  door- 
way of  the  service  entrance.  I  heard  the  hol- 
lering voice  of  Tim  Ryan,  who  was  on  that 
door  at  night.  "Can't  you  talk?"  he  said, 
and  I  looked  in  to  see  him  glaring  down  at 
what  seemed  to  be  an  ancient  overcoat  bal- 
anced upright  on  its  hem  and  having  a  bat- 
tered, turned-down  hat  afloat  a  few  inches 
above  it.  "Well,  go  away!"  Tim  said,  and 
whatever  little  figure  wore  the  coat  wavered 
round  and  started  up  the  incline  toward  me. 
No  hands  showed  out  of  the  dangling  sleeves 
and  the  only  way  I  could  be  sure  there  was  a 
face  in  the  shadow  under  the  hat  was  that 
small,  labored  puffs  of  frozen  breath  came 
out  on  the  air.  For  a  minute  Tim  watched 
this  curious  thing.  And  then,  as  if  it  had  eyes 
looking  through  the  felt  at  the  back  of  its 
head,  when  Tim  stepped  indoors  it  stopped 
still.  Slowly  it  turned  and  went  back,  and 
just  as  Tim  stepped  out  again  it  hid  itself 
behind  one  of  the  supporting  posts  opposite 
the  doorway.  A  limousine  turned  in  of?  the 
street  and  the  chauffeur  yelled,  "Call  Sy- 
monds!  They're  catching  a  train  and  I  have 
to  gel  gas!"  I  saw  Tim  go  inside  again.  The 
ragged  coat  and  hat  came  out  then,  and  they 
crossed  the  ramp  to  vanish  through  the  door. 
As  I  got  through  it  myself  Tim  slammed 
down  the  receiver  of  his  telephone. 

"What's  the  matter?"  I  said  when  he 
turned  around.  "You  seen  a  ghost?" 

But  Tim  said  the  matter  was  that  Sy- 
monds,  upstairs  bawling  him  out  instead  of 
that  college  punk  he  hired  to  drive  him. 
Nothing  was  in  sight  down  either  corridor.  I 
walked  up  lo  the  first  floor.  There  was  noth- 
ing there.  Not  around  the  corner  toward  the 
kitchen  or  going  toward  the  lobby.  When 
the  elevator  came,  "You  just  take  some- 
thing—I mean  somebody— up?"  I  asked  the 
man.  But  he  said  nobody,  not  since  ten 
o'clock.  The  service  elevators  ran  one  flight 
short  of  the  penthouse,  and  when  I  got  out 
of  the  car  I  spent  quite  a  while  leaning  over 
the  stair  well,  straining  my  eyes  and  ears, 
but  there  was  nothing  I  could  see  or  hear 
down  all  that  long  pit. 

Light  showed  from  under  the  kitchen  door, 
and  as  I  let  myself  in  I  heard  Peter's  voice. 
He  and  Chloe  had  brought  out  cushions  from 
the  big  room  to  soften  the  hard  kitchen  | 


CaUlfou^^aetMsrma  CLEANER 


Choice  of  the  tea  connoisseur 


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1)1  I 


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diairs,  and  C  hliM-  s;il  iii  t,iw  of  ihexL-  whil<- 
Petor  sl(X)d  rcadiiiK  iiloud  from  ;i  lx»,k  thai 
lay  o|X'n  on  lop  of  the  rt-fri^'iial.ir.  'llini 
cmply  Hii|)|KT  plattH  wen-  in  the  Hink  aiirl 
fresh  coffee  sleatncd  on  llic  Hlove.  I  inu-,1 
have  a  cup,  HAiH-  s;nd.  anti  |  miuhI  listen  i.- 
tliis.  I  had  lo  hear  this  pari  wlu-re  the  old 
Kinu  rallied  il,,-  i)ars  of  his  ciw  Ix-fon- 
I  amerlane. 

Somehow  it  was  (|uite  easy.  MayU-  li.-- 
cause  I  wastxme-tired.  It  wasmaylxMliroiH'.h 
weariness  liiat  my  brain  «avu  over  some  part 
of  its  hold  on  true  eircumslaiue  and  s«>  al- 
lowed me  the  feeling  thai  I  was  Ix-iiik  de 
livcrcd  backward,  lialf-wakini.^,  into  a  Ix-iier 
lime.  Anyway,  i'eler  made  no  excuse  lo  help 
me  leave  nor  did  I  want  any  and  t'hliK- 
sel  out  our  Clips  for  all  the  worlrl  like  Snow 
Wiiilc  keeping  house,  and  i'eler  read  .doud 
while  the  three  of  us  siit  lOK'.eliuT  as  if  this 
were  a  ni^jht  back  in  lleyward  when  I  was 
IVter's  anc  and  he  and  t  iil(M'  were  children. 

Kxce|)l  for  Peter's  stojjpinu  to  drink  some 
water  we  might  never  have  heard  tlie  sound 
at  the  kitchen  d(X)r.  It  seemed  no  k)uder 
than  a  clicking  of  dry  twigs,  but  the  sm.ill 
knock  came  again,  so  I  went  to  the  d(X)r 
When  I  opened  it  our  light  tx-amed  onto  lii. 
dark  chin  showing  Ix'twcen  that  overco.ii 
collar  and  the  hat's  deep  shadow.  Then  the 
whole  apparition  fell  forward  against  me.  Il 
said,  "  White  tx)y  "and  through  the  coal 
I  could  feel  the  heavy,  overtaxed  Ix-ating  ol 
Nasty's  heart  and  as  her  head  drojiped  back- 
ward I  saw  the  shriveled  throat  that  worked 
up  and  down  over  Nasty's  panting  breath. 

We  got  tile  hat  off  and  laid  her  down  on 
cuslnons  on  liie  ll(x)r,  but  though  she  didn't 
speak  and  her  eyes  stayed  shut  there  was 
sometiiing  like  a  scowl  on  N.asiy's  tliin. 

..-u  tuti  M  t,i4  mJi 

The  punishment  suffered  by  the  wise 
who  refuse  to  talce  part  in  the  gov- 
ernment is  to  live  under  the  govern- 
ment of  bad  men. 


gray-black  face,  and  "She  wants  to  sit  up," 
Cliloe  said.  So  we  lifted  her  into  a  chair,  and 
while  her  breathing  grew  easier  she  sat 
swayed  back  there  as  if  she  had  fallen  asleep. 
I  put  an  egg  to  boil  and  some  milk  to  heat  on 
the  stove. 

We  were  all  looking  at  Nasty's  shoes  tied 
over  her  flat  insteps  with  twine.  Traces  of 
mud  from  some  dirt  road  still  showed  on 
them. 

I  held  the  cup  of  milk  for  her  to  drink  and 
presently  she  opened  her  eyes.  They  were 
bloodshot  and  it  took  us  a  while  to  gel  used  to 
the  way  they  bulged  out  and  changed  the 
face  we  had  known.  I  fed  her  the  egg  slowly. 
When  she  had  eaten,  Chloe  asked  how  she 
liad  found  us,  and  she  said  everybody  in  Hey- 
ward  knew  her  baby  was  up  here  on  top  of 
this  big  hotel. 

"  In  lieyward?  "  asked  Chloe.  "  Didn't  you 
have  a  job  in  Atlanta  ? " 

"Ain't  no  job  neitherwhere,  lasting  you 
young  an'  part  ox,"  Nasty  said. 

We  were  looking  at  her  feet  again,  and 
"Richmon'  all  uphill.  Baltimo'  zigzag  till 
you  come  out  where  you  start,"  she  remarked. 

"  But  you  got  some  rides ! "  I  said. 

"Some,"  said  Nasty. 

Chloe  crouched  down,  and  she  had  put 
her  arms  around  Nasty's  middle  when  Mrs. 
Heyward  in  her  handsome  robe  came  push- 
ing through  the  swing  door. 

"Look,  it's  Nasty!"  Chloe  said  as  her 
mother  stopped  still,  staring.  "It's  Nasty!" 

"So  I  see,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "Chloe, 
your  bare  arms!  Those  clothes  zvt  filthy.  Get 
up  this  instant." 

Chloe  turned  an  apologetic  face  to  Nasty— 
who  just  looked  deaf,  blinking  her  sore  eyes 
into  space. 

"Are  you  \\d\Uivitted?"  Mrs.  Heyward 
asked  Peter,  and  "What's  the  matter  with 
you.  Taw?"  she  cried.  "What  are  you  two 
idiots  thinking  of?  Can't  you  see  the  old 
woman's  moldering  with  it?" 

(Conlhiued  on  Page  87) 


take  a  Mo 


There's  a  Tappan  to  fit  your  kitchon . . 

Whatever  you're  looking  for  ...  a  range 
your  budget . . .  there's  a  Tappan  that's  "jui 
these  two  new  Tappan  beauties  .  .  . 

BIO  RANGE  FOR  A  SMAtL  SPACE  . .  .  that's  the  HOLIDAY 
by  TAPPAK.  Only  30  inches  wide  with  the  biggest  ^ 
oven  you  have  ever  seen.  There's  room  in  any 
kitchen— any  budget— for  a  HOLIDAY. 


It  takes  but  a  moment  to  see  that  Tappan  oftn 
more  beauty,  more  value  and  more  oi  the  fea- 
tures you  want  on  a 
new  range. 

Tops  in  a  tafpan 
is  the  famous  Tappan 
Super  Sixty.  No  other 
range  offers  so  many 
exclusive  features . . . 
including: 


See  your  Tappan  dealer  today.  Let  him  help  you  select  the  Tappan  that's 
"just  for  you".  Models  for  city  gas,  Philgas  and  other  LP  (bottled)  gases. 
For  folder,  write  The  Tappan  Stove  Company,  Dept.  L-43,  Mansfield,  Ohio. 
In  Canada,  John  Inglis,  Ltd.,  Toronto. 


Tappan 

GFIS  /Rf=H\IGE 


tADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


Sit  down  and  try  it! 


Only  the  new  Slant^A  needle  SINGER  gives  you 
so  many  exciting  features  to  make  sewing  easier! 


Needle  slants  toward  you  in- 
stead of  being  straight  up  and  down. 
Makes  it  easier  to  see  as  you  sew, 
easier  to  feed  fabrics.  Revolutionary 
idea,  yours  only  on  this  SINGER! 


Cabinet  and  portable  all  in  one! 
Lift  up  handle  concealed  in  top — you 
can  lift  machine  right  out  of  cabinet. 
Made  of  light  but  sturdy  aluminum. 
Has  botli  knee  and  foot  controls. 


Seam-width  guides  are  marked 
on  the  throat  plate.  New  speed  con- 
trol makes  it  easiest  ever  to  sew  ex- 
tra-slow or  extra-fast.  Numbered 
dial  adjusts  tension  accurately. 


Direct-route  threading;  quickest, 
simplest  ever.  One  hand  does  it !  Only 
this  newest  SINGER  has  so  many 
sewing  advantages.  Choice  of  beige 
or  black.  Try  it  soon! 


Comes  in  new  Spinet  Cabinet  and  many  other  styles .  ,  . 


Easy  budget  terms 
Liberal  trade-in  allowances 

^gl*  Don't  be  misled.  SINGER  sells  and  serv- 
^EEsk    ices  its  products  only  through  SINGER 
fefi^    SEWING  CENTERS,  identified  by  the  Red 
"S"  Trade  Mark  on  the  window,  and  listed  in 
your  telephone  directory  only  under  SINGER 
SEWING  MACHINE  COMPANY. 

There  are  more  than  1200  SINGER  SEWING 
CENTERS  coast  to  coast  .  .  .  and  more  than  4000 
SINGER  servicecars  always  ready  to  bring  SINGER 
service  right  to  your  door. 


SINGER 


Spinet  Cabinet,  exciting  new  design. 
Leaf  opens  toward  you.  Machine  is  set 
at  an  angle.  You  sit  more  comfortably, 
see  better,  sew  more  easily. 


Modern  Desk.  One  of  many  styles  in 
which  you  can  get  new  slant-needle,  fa- 
mous straight-needle,  or  "zigzag"  swing- 
needle  SINGER*  Sewing  Machines. 


SINGER  SEWING  CENTERS 

THERE'S  ONE  NEAR  YOU  TO  SERVE  YOU 


«A  Trude  Mark  of  THE  SINGER  M ANUFACTIIRlNfi  COMPANY.  Copyriifht.  U.  S.  A.,  1962.  I!l5:t,  by  THE  SlNGKR  MANUFACTURING  COMPANY.  All  ntrhtb  resened  for  all  countries.  The  new  .SINGER  available  in  the  United  Slates  only. 


((  '(inlimifil  friiin  I'iikv  N5) 
Cliloe  ulaiiced  uj),  and  "Of  course."  lier 
otlicT  said,  "slif's  not  lliat    that  horrible 
scase." 

So  lluti  Nasty's  \\vm\  turned,  and  for  a 
nn  minute  wlule  tiie  faucet  dri|)|H(i  loudly 
ic  searched  into  Mrs.  Ileyward's  face.  Fear 
id  disgust  weri'  never  shown  jilainer  than 
1  llie  way  Mrs.  Heyward  drew  her  robe 
oser  shut.  Nasty,  havuiu  weighed  this  des- 
ire, l)enan  a  feeble  wrest  liiu',  to  shake  Chloe 
IT.  And  then  because  syphilis  was  no  un- 
iniiiion  IhiiiK,  but  a  blight  as  fre(|uent  as 
ckels  and  tuln  rculosis  anions  her  own  |)eo- 
le,  because  she  was  not  startled,  but  only 
isniayed.  Nasty  (juicldy  put  out  one  of  her 
ony,  still-beautiful  liands  and  pushed  the 
isiu'S  sill'  had  used  farther  olf  from  C'liloe. 


up,  ■'  1 


^Iadam,"  I  said  as  (.'iiloe  st<M)d 
on't  really  think 

"Apparenth'  you  don't!  \on  know  they're 
11  full  of  it  nowadays,  and  yet  you  " 

"You  can't  talk  this  way  to  Nasty!" 
"hk)e  cried. 

"Mrs.  Heyward,"  IVler  put  lu,  "(kid 
vould  certainly  tell  you  that  what  Nasty  has 
s  called  txo/>lilli(il»ii(i.  Which  comes  from 
lothinu  but  a  lack  of  vitamin  A.  That  sum- 
uer  1  helped  at  the  clinic  I 

"A  secondhand  theory!  ^'ou  don't  know 
hat!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  and  when  Peter 
eplied  that  he  did,  "Well,  1  don't!"  she 
ried.  "Taw,  sjet  her  out  of  here." 

"She  has  nowhere  to  go,"  Chloe  said. 

"Very  /(•('//  then!  Taw  call  Harlem  Hos- 
lital.    Call  Bellevue.   But  get  her  out." 

At  the  word  "hospital" 
Jasty  reached  down  for 
er  hat  and  then  rose  off 
er  chair,  and  she  was 
alfway  to  the  door  before 
"hkje  caught  her.  "There's 
otliing  to  be  afraid  of," 
)hk)e  said. 

"Let  go!"  Mrs.  Hey- 
ard  commanded  and 
lasty,  though  she  began 
)  tremble,  pulled  steadily 
gainst  Chloe 's  grasp. 

"Ain'  any  ol'  black  woman  I  ever  see  'em 
irry  yonder— that  ever  I  seed  walk  out 
I  'm,"  said  Nasty,  and  the  hat  fell  out  of  her 
and.  Chloe's  arms  went  round  her  as  she 
umpled  down,  not  fainting,  but  so  used  up 
lat  her  feet  lopped  sideways  while  her  head 
Dbbled  against  Chloe's  breast.  As  if  she  took 
lought  for  how  her  popped  eyes  must  look 
.  a  face  that  seemed  no  more  solid  than  a 
nch  of  coal  ash,  she  drew  her  eyelids  down. 

"She's  going  to  pass  out ! "  Mrs.  Heyward 
lid  on  a  kind  of  wail.  "Now  look  what 
JuVedone!" 

"This  was  done  years  ago,"  Chloe  an- 
k-ered.  "If  you  hadn't  driven  her  off  " 

"Oh,  stop  talking  rot!  Nasty  left.  She  left 
Mrs.  Hey  ward's  veined,  diamonded 
mds  stretched  out  in  front  of  her  while  she 
ent  forward.  "  I  won't  have  it !  I  won't  have 
)u  standing  there  liugging  that  old  ly- 
g  " 

"Aren't  you  afraid  to  touch  her?"  Chloe 
id,  and  turning  to  Peter,  who  had  reached 
;r  in  one  stride,  she  handed  Nasty  over  to 
;  lifted  up  like  a  child  in  his  arms. 
"Taw,  do  something!"  cried  Mrs.  Hey- 
ard. 

"If  he  does,"  Chloe  said,  "if  you  send 
asty  away  tonight,  I'll  go  when  she  does." 
ven  Peter  seemed  startled  at  Chloe's  dead- 
vel  tone.  She  looked  into  her  mother's 
irk-circled  eyes.  "And  if  I  go  then,"  she 
id,  "  /  will  never  come  back." 
The  faucet  drip  was  loud  again  while  we  all 
ood  there. 

At  last  Nasty  stirred  in  Peter's  arms,  and 
;  started  carrying  her  toward  my  room. 
"No.  This  way,"  Chloe  said.  "I'll  sleep 
it  on  the  couch."  And  while  I  stood  listen- 
g  to  Mrs.  Heyward 's  heavy  breathing  and 
eing  her  hand  that  fumbled  the  satin 
)cket  for  a  cigarette,  Chloe  went  ahead  of 
Jter,  leading  the  way  to  her  own  room. 

Amidships  on  B  Deck  of  the  big  French 
ler  there  was  scarcely  any  sound  or  motion, 
liloe  said.  But  at  night  in  my  cabin  aw^ay 
t  on  E  Deck  it  seemed  a  perverse  thing— 


You  con  olwoys  get  the 
truth  from  on  American 
itotesman  after  he  has 
turned  seventy,  or  given 
up  all  hope  for  the  pres- 
idency. 

—  RALPH  WOODS 


It  I 


or  at  leasl  like  irillinK  to  kt*p  the  hKht»  on 
lor  reading  oi  writiOK  innlead  of  mviru-  ove  r 
my  ears  and  thoiiKhlH  lo  ilw  black  ir.-nu  ii. 
dous  April  ocean.  Often  it  c.iv.-red  niy  d,m-,\ 
|X)rthole. 

C  liloe  came  down  a  couple  of  tinie*  to 
)rmg  me  s«)me  of  the  fxH)kH  and  fruil  Irom 
her  ste.uiier  bask.  ts,  and  throuKh  the  lill|<- 
she  said  and  all  I  heard  when  |       t„  |<„ow 
themassiHiseand  the  liaifdreHH4  r  I  ki-|)l  ita.  k 
of  Mrs.  Heyward,  She  never  h<  I  [.miI  ..uiMde 
her  suite  except  at  night.  All  of  her  n  iurn- 
ing  strength  together  with  her  grmi  forlx-ar- 
ance  in  regard  lo  li(,iior  wan  dedicated  to 
dining  at  the  captain's  table  where  also  dined 
C  harles  I'Vosset,  that  young  man  who  was  in 
himself  ;i  gleaming  .md  Ixalihc  trinity  win 
was  HI  his  single  |XTson  the  Karl  of  Wicken- 
don.  Viscount  Tainesley  and  Baron  Brixled 
Kach  afternoon  the  mass«'use  was  Hummoned 
to  the  stateroom   where  Mrs.  Heyward 
stayed  in  Ixd  studying  a  IxK.k  on  world  af- 
fairs and  one  of  (|uol  at  ions  and  witty  sjiyings. 
At  seven  o'clock  she  hatl  the  hairdresser. 
And  at  eight  she  came  forth.  She  had  taken 
to  wearing  a  new  sort  of  lk)wing  clothes,  the 
kind  the  Roumanian  ((ueen  wore,  .iiul  she'd 
had  her  hair  cut  short  and  let  it  go  gray.  Its 
smooth  curls  and  the  stulT  they  put  on  lo 
make  it  gleam,  and  the  soft,  ample,  sumptu- 
ous clot  lies,  were  very  iKroming.  Besides  the 
Heywards  and  Lord  Wickendon  the  cap- 
tain's guests  included  a  steel-company  presi- 
dent and  his  wife  as  well  as  a  famous  I-Vench 
archaeologist  and  an  elderly  maharaja.  The 
evenings  did  Mrs.  Heyward  so  much  good 
and  thus  so  smoothed  out  Chloe's  days  that 
I  decided  my  skirmish  with 
the  chief  steward  had  been 
worth  while. 

.lust  before  sailing  time 
1  was  up  in  first  class, 
seeing  to  things  for  Mrs. 
Heyward.  I'd  scarcely 
opened  iny  mouth  to  that 
spruce,  seagoing  head- 
waiter  Ix-fore  his  face  told 


Ml         I     II     I      II     N     \  I 


me  that  people  who  would 
think  of  asking  to  sit  at  the 
captain's  table  would  never 
be  asked  to  sit  there.  So  I  indicated  that  I  was 
pressed  for  time,  and  I  mentioned  the  Hey- 
ward offices  as  though  I'd  dropped  a  board 
meeting  there  in  order  to  see  the  Heywards 
off.  Heyward.  I  said,  as  if  duPont  might  have 
been  some  little  minor  company.  And  here, 
I  said,  I  found  this  blunder  that  the  French 
Lines  had  made.  Miss  Heyw^ard  and  her 
mother  never  permitted  their  names  to 
appear  on  passenger  lists,  but  some  clerk 
somewhere  liad  slipped  up.  As  I  scowled  at 
the  booklet  he  held— and  at  him  — the  chief 
steward's  eyebrows  rose.  I  would  speak 
plainly,  I  said;  here  we  had  a  young  woman 
who  was  accustomed  to  protection  from  the 
public  curiosity  that  naturally  centered  on 
an  heiress  of  great  beauty,  and  what  I  meant 
him  to  attend  to  was  certainly  not  seats  at 
any  table  in  the  dining  saloon,  what  he  was 
to  provide  was  special  service  for  the  Hey- 
wards who— as  a  result  of  this  bungling— 
would  want  to  take  all  their  meals  in  their 
suite. 

Of  course,  m'sicu',"  the  steward  said 
gravely  and  with  that  ironical,  canny  glim- 
mer in  his  eye.  "Thank  you.  m'sieu'."  And 
while  he  gracefully  accepted  the  two  ten- 
dollar  bills  which  were  all  the  money  I 
had,  "But  what  a  p\iy— quelle  domniage."  he 
murmured,  as  if  in  deep  thought.  And  at  last, 
"  Is  it  not  possible  that  as  the  commandant's 
guests  at  his  own  table  Madame  and  Ma- 
demoiselle would  find  a  sufficient  seclusion — 
without  the  ennui  of  isolation?" 

"That  might  be,"  I  said.  "I'll  inquire.  If 
I 'm  not  back  here  in  a  few  minutes  you  can 
count  on  their  acceptance  of  the  captain's 
kind  invitation." 

"Entendu,  m'sieu'."  The  steward  bowed. 

I  was  glad  to  get  down  to  my  own  cabin. 
My  last  day  in  New-  York  had  been  a  long 
one.  W'hile  it  was  still  dark  that  morning  I'd 
wakened  to  Peter's  knocking  at  the  back 
door.  "Can  we  have  some  cofTee?  "  he  asked, 
and  "We've  got  to  w-ake  her,"  he  told  me.  I 
hurried  my  clothes  on  and  started  the  coffee, 
and  when  Peter  brought  Chloe  to  the  kitchen. 


(/ou  Gee- 


STYLE 

ihat  excilet 
(latlert  ,  ,  .  delightt  I 


COMFORT 

rao/  comfort 
lasfinq  comfort  I 


The  Steve  A* 


VALUE 

tfiot  is 
absolutely  unsurpassed 


.  .  .  soft,  rich  leathers  in  the 
season's  most  popular  colors 
.  .  .  crafted  so  expertly, 
so  beautifully— so  very  fitting 
for  your  new  spring  fashion. 


The  Donna 


vSprin^ -fashion 
Value- fetival 


MARCH  30  — APRIL  IB 


irac 


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See  "The  New  in  Shoes"  at  your  dealer's  now 

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The  Guide 


1.    \    D    T  E 


II  ()  M  r, 


()     I      li     N     \  I, 


4l>riU  295-1 


Starring  in  THE  STORY  of  THREE  LOVES 
An  M-G-M  Picture 

Color  by  Technicolor 


YES,  PIER  ANGELI  uses  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo.  In  fact,  in  less  than  two  years, 
Lustre-Creme  has  become  the  shampoo  of  the  majority  of  top  Hollywood  stars! 
When  America's  most  glamorous  women — beauties  like  Pier  Angeli — use  Lustre- 
Creme  Shampoo,  shouWn't  it  he  jour  choice  above  all  others,  too? 


For  the  Most  Beautiful  Hair  in  the  World 

4  out  of  5  Top  Hollywood  Stars 
use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 


Glamour-made-easy!  Even  in  hardest 
water,  Lustre-Creme  "shines"  as  it  cleans 
.  .  .  leaves  your  hair  soft  and  fragrant, 
gleaming-bright.  And  Lustre-Creme 
Shampoo  is  blessed  with  Natural  Lanolin. 
It  doesn't  dry  or  dull  your  hair! 


Makes  hair  eager  Jo  curl!  Now  you  can 

"do  things"  with  your  hair — right  after 
you  wash  it !  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 
helps  make  hair  a  delight  to  manage — 
tames  flyaway  locks  to  the  lightest 
brush  touch,  brings  out  glorious  sheen. 


Fabulous  Lustre-Creme  costs 
no  more  than  other  shampoos- 
27f!  to  $2  in  jars  or  tubes. 


shivering  in  her  silk  robe  and  with  her  hair 
sliU  tumbled,  "You  can't  do  this,"  he  said. 

"I've  t;ot  lo— and  not  be  afraid  to.  Don't 
you  see?"  Peter  didn't  answer  her,  and 
"What  you  don't  trust,"  Chloe  said,  "is 
me." 

Peter  looked  at  her  bitterly.  "How  shall 
I,"  he  asked,  "while  you  trust  her?" 

Chloe  lifted  her  hair  back  from  her  eyes. 
"You  know  e.xactly  how  it  is,"  she  said 
quietly. 

"One  thing  I  know,"  Peter  insisted,  "is 
that  you're  about  to  travel  three  thousand 
miles  lo  make  a  curtsy  instead  of  marrying 
me." 

"I'm  going  to  marry  you  on  July  third  in 
your  mother's  house."  Chloe  said. 

"So  you  say,"  said  Peter. 

Chloe  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  then, 
and  Peter  -in  this  first  time  that  he'd  ever 
forgotten  to  look  out  for  my  feelings— took 
her  in  his  arms.  "I'm  sorry.  B'lt  this  is 
fishy,"  he  said.  "Because  she's  as  well  as 
she'll  ever  be — no  matter  what  you  do." 

This  was  the  truth,  I  thought.  And  yet  it 
was  also  true  that  from  the  time  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward  began  to  plan  this  trip,  in  fact  from  the 
hour  when  she  heard 
that  Mr.  Bingham  was 
going  to  be  appointed 
Ambassador  to  the 
Court  of  Saint  James's, 
she  had  beg  m  lo  pick 
up.  We'd  worried  about 
her  all  through  Janu- 
ary. Soon  after  what 
she  called  the  "siege"— 
those  three  days  while 
we  had  Nasty  in  the 
house— ri'^ht  after  that 
Mrs.  Hey  <vard  fell  sick. 
This  was  a  worse  flu 
than  she  had  before 
Christmas. 

In  February ,"  I  don't 
mean,"  the  doctor  said 
to  Chloe,  "that  i\\t  dis- 
ease is  in  her  mind. 
The  rec  irrent  flu  is 
real,  all  right.  But  too 
much  alcohol  lowers 
the  resistance  to  infec- 
tion. It's  as  unsimple 
as  that."  He  wasn't 
the  sort  who  had  any 
wish  or  need  to  build 
up  his  practice  with  a 
certain  type  of  perma- 
nent patient,  and  he 
was  beginning  to  look 
grim.  Then  one  day  he  came  in  and  found 
Mrs.  Heyward  sitting  up  writing  to  Mr. 
Bingham,  who  was,  she  explained,  an  old 
friend  of  her  husband's.  While  they  talked, 
the  doctor  someway  got  her  to  looking  in  the 
mirror,  and  he  said  she  would  want  to  spruce 
up  a  bit  if  she  was  going  to  take  on  the  Lon- 
don season.  "Which  means,"  he  said,  "no 
gin.  And  no  brandy.  Perhaps  a  little  whisky 
now  and  then — but  little." 

To  Chloe  he  said,  "We  can't  let  her  go 
alone.  And  she  won't  hear  of  a  companion- 
nurse.  Which  may  be  selfish.  But  she  is  as  she 
is — and  in  critical  shape."  Then  the  doctor 
fell  silent,  studying  Chloe's  face.  "Well- 
do  as  you  must,  child.  But  I  think  you'll  rue 
it  that  you  didn't  try  this  first.  You  too."  he 
said  to  Peter  who  stood  beside  Chloe.  "  What- 
ever day  you  marry,  you'll  be  better  off  if  we 
can  get  her  well.  One  invalid  mother-in-law 
on  the  verge  of  a  breakdown  is  equal  to  five 
mothers-in-law." 

So  finally,  along  in  March,  Chloe  agreed 
to  go.  On  the  condition  that  they  should  be 
back  at  the  end  of  June.  Mrs.  Heyward  pro- 
tested that  the  season  wouldn't  be  over,  but 
Chloe  said  no  matter,  and  there  were  other 
conditions.  Nasty,  who  was  now  ready  to 
leave  the  hospital,  was  to  have  enough 
monev  settled  on  her  to  give  her  a  small  in- 
come. Further!  lore,  Chloe  was  to  go  "home  " 
to  He>'ward  for  her  wedding,  which  would 
take  place  when  Peter  had  his  vacation. 

Mrs.  Heyward,  pale  among  her  pillows, 
looked  at  Chloe  with  a  certain  admiration. 
"But  that  closed-up  house '11  be  moldy!"  she 
told  her. 


"  We  won't  need  it."  said  Chloe.  And  wherl 
her  mother  kept  silent.  "All  right,  then,"  she! 
said,  and  I  thought  she  might  keep  going,' 
out  of  the  room  and  the  apartment  and  on 
downtown  to  Peter.  But  Mrs.  Heyward 
called  out  "Done!"  and  slapped  her  hand 
down  as  if  it  were  a  gavel,  so  Chloe  turned 
round  and  came  back.  There  was  anotfeer 
thing,  she  said— she  would  want  an  income. 


w  HY  don't  you  say  Peter'W  want  an  in 
come?"  asked  Mrs.  Heyward. 

"Because  /  want  it,"  Chloe  said.  "Peter 
has  a  job." 

"  Do  you  dream  he'd  keep  it  if  I  were  will- 
ing to  support  him?  "  her  mother  demanded. 

"He  ought  to  quit  it  and  write  all  the 
time,"  said  Chloe. 

"Then  let  him!"  Mrs.  Heyward  was  com-  i 
mencing  to  look  feverish.  "He  got  some-  i 
thing  advanced  on  that  book— so  let  him!"  : 
Chloe  shook  her  head.  "That's  for  havingj  I 
the  first  baby.  In  case  the  book  doesn't  makej  'i 
money.  So  I  want  a  hundred  thousand  dol-:  |' 

lars.  Now.  And  at  five  per  cent  that'll  "| 

"See  here"  Mrs.  Heyward  screeched  andj  '. 
Chloe,  observing  the  mottled  gray  and  hec-:  i 
tic  red  of  her  mother's]  t 
face,  said: 

"At  least  fifty  thou- 1  i 
sand,  then."  |: 
"See  here,  my  girl!"'  ^ 
said  Mrs.  Heyward—  ' 
who  in  spite  of  every-  ) 
thing  now  looked  as  if 
she  was  beginning  to 
have  a  good   time  — 
"there're  my  doctor's 
bills— not  to  mention 
those  for  Nasty!  And 
all  this  on  top  of  the 
trip!  To  be  presented 
may  not  cost  anything 
technically  —  but 
your  clothes  alone- 
why   " 

"I    needn't   go  to 
Court,"  Chloe  put  in. 


Heart-Suminoned 

Itti  'Ivssi'  Simtrl 

Sometimes  in  bonnet  that  she 

used  to  wear 
And  fadsd  dress  by  wild-rose 

brambles  torn. 
She  moves  so  lightly  on  her 

path  of  air 
As  she  returns,  a  mother  to  her 
son. 


She  does  not  knock  nor  does 

she  come  within 
To  tell  me  who  her  new 

companions  are : 
She  vanishes  upon  her  path  of 
wind. 

Accompanied,  perhaps,  by  cloud 
or  star. 


"Are 


you   crazy  r 


demanded  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward 

"  In  fact  "Chloe 

began. 

"Are  you  going  to 
say,"  her  mother  asked, 
"that  in  jact  you 
needn't  go  at  all? 
Which  is  true,  I  sup- 
pose, since  all  you've 
done  is  promise  that 
you  would.  Well,  if  you're  afraid,  if  you're 

afraid  of  " 

"Afraid?"  said  Chloe.  For  a  second  she 
and  her  mother  gazed  back  and  forth,  their 
mouths  ajar.  "Of  what?"  Chloe  asked. 

"Of  your  own  plan.  I  guess  -  of  marrying 
that  ne'er-do-well  unless  I'll  pay  your  way  in 
advance,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward's  mouth,  but 
Of  me!  Of  me  and  my  money!  her  eyes  said. 
The  jubilant  green  glance  poured  out  of  her 
face  like  a  sound  out  of  shadow.  You're  afraid 
of  my  will  and  cunning,  and  to  see  how  frail 
and  useless — without  money — all  your  own 
will  is. 

"Could  it  be,"  Mrs.  Heyward  asked, 
lightly,  "that  what  you're  thinking  of  is  run- 
ning off  and  leaving  me  over  there?" 

"No,  it  couldn't,"  Chloe  answered  slowly, 
"because  on  the  day  we  agreed  on,  you're 
coming  back  with  me.  And  when  we  get 
back,"  she  added,  "you  can  give  me  tb- 
money  for  a  wedding  present." 

We  were  twenty-four  hours  at  sea  before  I 
opened  Ola-Mae's  letter,  because  she'd  sent 
it  care  of  Mrs.  Heyward,  who  at  first  forgot 
to  send  it  down  to  my  cabin.  This  letter  had 
no  regular  beginning,  nor  even  the  name  at 
the  end.  It  said:  "  I  used  to  think  of  us  when 
we  would  be  old,  and  at  first  it  was  about 
me  still  being  able  to  do  the  chores  of  this 
house  in  the  country,  but  with  you  some- 
times taking  over  and  telling  me  to  sit  awhile 
in  the  sun,  which  I  would  do.  because  being 
the  oldest  I  would  need  to  take  more  care  to 
last  out  the  same  time.  But  then  you  came 
here  in  my  room  one  day  and  said  you  were 
going  off  across  the  world,  and  do  you  re- 


Here's  picture-proof  that  all 
women,  even  the  smallest  of 
them,  are  susceptible  to  lin- 
gerie made  fashionable  and 
figure-flattering  with  Lastex. 
Any  way  the  Miracle  Yarn  is 
used — knit  or  woven  into 
fabric,  shirred  or  embroidered 
onto  it  —  Lastex  brings  to 
your  lingerie  new  beauty, 
new  comfort,  and  priceless  Jit. 

UNITED  STATES  RUBBER  COMPANY 

Rockefeller  Center     •     New  York 


\      l»      I       I        •^  II  11 

member  I  said  n(jt  to  because  you  would 
never  come  back?  And  UioukIi  you  didn't  «') 
over  all  ihow  miles  of  waler  llien,  after  thai 
when  1  tllou^;hl  of  us  \mnv.  ol<l  it  was  just 
about  us  visiiiiiji  on  Sunday  allermKMis.  Now 
you  are  kouik  after  all.  Only  for  a  lew  monlliH 
your  letter  sjiid.  Mul  somehow  (he  (Kean 
which  is  the  llrsi  ihinK  that  !  remember,  how 
It  be^an  iioi  far  from  our  door  and  went 
away  forever  somehow  the  (Kean  cr)mjnK 
into  It  a«ain  has  si-tiled  me.  And  I  am  noinK 
to  net  married  to  John  Rust,  lie  has  a  few 
acres  of  tobacco  land,  and  with  Ihal  aiul  the 
(illinn  station  which  I  can  lul|)  mmd  and 
which  has  a  nice  livinu  place  upsiairs  I  can 
quit  Ik-Ik's.  If  it  was  you  netting  married 
maylx-  I  couUi  write  as  if  we  were  Koin^  to 
meet  anain  and  s:iy  how  I  was  the  woman's 
friend  as  well  as  yours  and  soon.  Mul  ihe  way 
il  is,  I  siiy  t-ood-by.  And  if  you  should  some- 
how come  back  and  ever  drive  on  Route  5 
never  stop  at  that  station,  the  iwo-siory 
Socony  live  miles  south  of  Rt  idsville." 

The  end  of  our  voyage  was  made  ihrounh 
a  heavy  mist.  We'd  Ixrn  due  at  Plymouth 
before  mniitfall,  but  our  landing  was  put  off 
till  morninn  and  Mrs.  Ileyward  decided  to 
fill  in  the  extra  evening  with  a  party  in  her 
suite.  There  were  stewards  aplenty  to  handle 
the  champagne  supper,  but  I  ^juess  it  was 
more  elenant  to  have  me  superintend  the 
parly.  I  doubted  it  would  ko  well.  Mrs.  Iley- 
ward was  loo  upset  over  Chloe's  having  told 
Lord  Wickendon  that  she  was  ennaued.  We 
had  a  musician  out  of  third  class  who  was 
to  play  his  accordion  softly  from  Chloe's 
bedroom,  and  while  I  was  Kettin«  him  set- 
tled Ihere  I  could  hear  Mrs.  Ileyward  in  her 
own  room,  scoldinu  out  lo  Cbloe  in  the  salon. 

"There's  just  no  sense  in  cutting  yourself 
off  from  Charles'  altentions  and  the  nood 
lime  he  can  offer  you!"  Mrs.  Heyward  de- 
clared. 

II  ()\v  true.  Since  in  the  end."  said  a  man's 
voice,  "you're  Koini;  lo  marry  me  anyway," 
and  I  realized  Lord  Wickendon  had  walked 
into  the  salon.  "Of  course  you  know  how 
oddly  you're  behavini,'.  don'l  you?"  he  said. 
"Simply  everybody  wants  lo  marry  me." 

When  in  my  Iravelin^  suit  I  came  stepping 
out  of  Chloe's  bedroom,  Ujid  Wickendon 
looked  so  startled  lhal  Chloe  and  then  even 
Mrs.  Heyward  began  to  la".Kh- 

"This  is  Taw,"  Chloe  said,  while  Mrs. 
Heyward's  eye  reminded  me  lhal  I  was  to 
call  him  "my  lord,"  instead  of  just  "sir." 

He  was  a  medium-sized  young  man  whose 
gold-colored  eyes  gleamed  nearly  level  with 
the  blond  (lesh  of  his  cheeks  and  straight 
brow,  and  whose  neat,  beaked  nose  barely  in- 
terrupted the  solid  smoothness  of  his  face. 
In  lime  I  discovered  lhal  the  lighl-and- 
easy-sounding  manner  of  his  speech  was  a 
sort  of  counterpoint  he  had  made  for  him- 
self, lo  balance  off  a  pressure  that  discom- 
forted him.  As  a  child  he  had  wandered  Ihe 
greenwood  miles  of  the  park  at  Wickendon 
Castle  and  looked  down  from  lis  lower  at 
grassy  mounds  lhal  covered  the  remains  of  a 
Roman  wall;  a  Rodin  masterpiece  stood  in 
his  grandmother's  rose  garden,  and  a  deposit 
from  all  this,  and  from  the  years  at  Eton 
and  Oxford  and  Ihe  limes  of  traveling,  of 
fishing,  burning  and  sun  bathing  in  all  quar- 
ters of  the  globe,  and  from  the  job  he  had  re- 
cently completed  on  the  staff  of  the  gover- 
nor general  in  India— a  heavy  deposit  from 
all  this  lay  in  Lord  Wickendon.  He  was  quite 
kindly  and  very  shrewd,  and  the  perfection 
of  sound  in  Homeric  verse  could  attract  him. 
and  the  slalislical  figures  on  the  high  rale  of 
literacy  in  Burma  could  please  him.  But  il 
was  a  fact  lhal  all  his  experience  had  little 
enriched  and  greatly  crowded  the  limited 
spaces  of  his  nature. 

The  party  went  finely,  for  by  the  lime  it 
actually  got  started  Mrs.  Heyward's  spirits 
were  restored.  I  opened  a  bollle  before  the 
other  guests  came,  and  when  I'd  served  him. 
Lord  Wickendon  lifted  his  glass  lo  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward and  said.  "In  spile  of  disillusion- 
ment." Her  eyebrows  rose,  and,  "I  had  the 
notion  you  would  help  me,"  he  explained, 
"but  I  begin  lo  see  I  shall  have  lo  succeed 
alone." 

Mrs.  Heyward  gave  him  a  deep,  sympa- 
thetic look  before  she  spoke.  "I  assure  you, 


f 


Soft-Weve,  with  its  two  thicknesses 
of  finest  tissue,  gives  you  both  the 
softness  you  love  and  the  practical 
firmness  you  need.  You'll  be  de- 
voted to  this  luxurious  double 
tissue  with  the  gentle,  gentle 
te.xture.  .\sk  for  Soft-\N'eve 
next  time.  Another  great 
Scott  paper  value. 


"sorr-wcvE"  stG.  u.  s.  pat.  off. 


90 


L  A  n  1  I'.     ■     II  f> 


M    E       .1    <)    I     R    N    A  L 


April,  195: 


it's  the  color 

it's  the  fragrance 
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Charles,  I  couldn't  be  more  unhappy  about 
this  engagement.  As  Chloe  knows.  But  after 
all  I  atn  her  mother,  and  I  must  try  to  be 
fair.  All  I  can  do  now  is  keep  hands  off." 

"D'you  know,  Kitty,  you  give  me  a  cold 
feeling  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach,"  said  Lord 
Wickendon.  He  drank  a  little  wine,  then 
raised  his  glass  to  Chloe.  "No,"  she  said, 
"you're  being  horrible." 

"Ghastly,"  said  Lord  Wickendon,  "but 
when  I'm  nice  what  happens?  I  bore  you." 
And  when  she  told  him  that  he  never  did,  he 
declared  they  should  then  have  "none  of  this 
good-by-and-farewell  nonsense. ' ' 

"We'd  better,"  Chloe  said,  "and  I'd 
rather." 

But  still  he  insisted  that  she  had  at  least 
to  come  with  him  to  the  Pytchley  Ball. 

Chloe  shook  her  head,  and  even  this  small 
movement  and  the  few  steps  she  took  away 
from  him  showed  the  restless  and  yet  sen- 
suous rhythm  that  nowadays  flowed  through 
all  her  motion.  There  was  something  in  the 
sight  of  this  still-maiden  body  that  told  what 
urgent,  un virginal  hungers  Peter  Mebane 
had  lately  summoned  up  in  it.  "I  think," 
Lord  Wickendon  said,  "  that  you  don't  dare 
to  come." 

Chloe  turned  toward  him  and  before  he 
could  stop  himself  he  said,  "You're  afraid. 
Oh,  not  of  me,"  he  added,  and  grew  con- 
fused, "Not  of  me  but  of  your  own— well,  I 
mean  to  say,  doesn't  it  occur  to  you  that 
you're  afraid  of  yourself?" 

"Charles,  how  incredibly  perceptive !  That's 
the  whole  thing"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "The 
child's  afraid  to  give  herself  a  chance  to  find 
out  this  affair  for  what  it  really  is— a  left- 
over, childish  infatuation  blown  up  gro- 
tesquely." 

Somehow  Lord  Wickendon  managed  to 
ignore  this  utterance  while  he  used  it. 
"You'll  never  risk  coming  to  stay  at  Wicken- 
don, will  you?"  he  said  to  Chloe.  "You 
don't  feel  you  can  afford  me  a  few  days  on 
my  own  ground." 

"Indeed  not,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward.  "All 
eligible  men  have  to  be  fled  from— and  not 
in  the  interest  of  a  grown  woman's  attach- 
ment, but  because  a  dreamed-up  idea  of  this 
young  man  and  the  idea  of  a  great  romance 
have  got  to  be  preserved.  And  for  some 
reason— God  knows  I  can't  fathom  it— but 
for  some  reason  all  this  is  to  prove  some- 
thing to  me!" 

"When  shall  we  come  to  Wickendon?" 
Chloe  said  coldly. 

"When  indeed?"  asked  Lord  Wickendon. 
"Won't  it  happen  that  there'll  be  some  ex- 
cuse—some excellent  excuse— at  the  last 
minute?" 

"No,"  said  Chloe,  and  Mrs.  Heyward 
went  forward  radiantly  to  greet  the  maha- 
raja. 

f  To  he  Concluded ) 


HEAD  OF  A  laKL 
TIIOITt^llT  TO  HE 

SUZA^XE  VALAOON 

(Continued  from  Page  48) 

of  a  pretty  girl.  They  must  be  caught  in  the 
transforming  mirror  of  a  painter's  eye.  The 
artist  generalizes  and  changes  and,  if  he  has 
genius,  gives  permanence  to  a  beauty  which 
may  have  only  a  vague  resemblance  to  the 
subject.  The  appearance  of  the  particular 
model  is  refashioned  in  his  mind  to  accord 
with  an  ideal  of  beauty.  Thus  all  the  models 
in  paintings  by  Titian  or  Rubens  or  any 
master  seem  to  bear  a  family  resemblance. 

It  is  true  that  artists  have  their  favorite 
subjects.  When  a  painter  has  a  model,  as 
Renoir  said,  "well  worked  into  his  brushes," 
it  is  troublesome  for  him  to  change.  But  the 
girl  posing  serves  only  as  a  point  of  departure. 
Vollard  tells  how  Renoir  one  day  was  charmed 
by  a  pretty  girl  and  decided  to  paint  a  nude. 
The  picture  went  badly.  He  found  another 
pretty  girl  and  painted  a  second  nude  over 
the  first.  He  was  no  more  successful.  Finally 
he  said,  "  I  must  find  Louison  again.  When  I 
think  of  the  first  time  I  saw  her  on  the  Boule- 
vard Clichy  with  a  blue  ribbon  at  her  neck . . . 


MO  J  U  D 

stockings 

Every  stitch  a  compliment! 
No  bagging  knees, 
no  sagging  ankles  with 
Mojuds — the  stockings 

with  "Magic  Motion."  / 
The  extra  "give"  and 
spring-back  is  right 
in  the  knit.  Mojuds 
Slav  fitting  .  .  . 
like  you 


&1 


There's  lovely 
lingerie  by  Mojud,  too. 
At  better  stores  everywhere. 

1  953.  MOJUD   HOSIERY  CO..  INC.  N.Y.C. 


UNWANTED  HAIR  7. 

IT'S  -OFF  because  IT'S  OUT  ' 


Quick  as  a  wink,  superfluous  hair  eliminated.  Con/ 
pletely  removes  all  hair  from  FACE,  arms  and  leg? 
Checks  future  growth.  Leaves  the  skin  petal-smooSf 


e  P»  I  1.  A  T  o  R 

Like  magic.  Milady's  skin  becomes  adorable.  For  thj 
finest  down  or  the  heaviest  growth.  Seems  miraculou*! 
but  our  39  years  experience  proves  it  is  the  scientificalli 
correct  way.  Odorless.  Safe.  Harmless.  Simple  to  apply! 
Superior  to  ordinary  hair  removers.  For  15  years  Z/Jj 
Epilatorwas  $5.00.  NOW  ONLY  $1.10.  Same  superiofi 
formula,  same  size.  Good  stores  or  by  mail  $1.10  olj 

LC.O.D.  No  Fed.  tax.  Above guaranteed,  money-back.  | 
JORDEAU  INC.  Bo«D-ll.  SOUTH  ORANGE.  N.J.^ 


If  your  feet  hurt — or  are  "hard" 
to  fit — Dr.  Scholl's  Shoes  will  give 
you  glorious  walking  ease — free  of 
painful  friction  and  pressure  points 
on  your  feet  and  toes.  Their  style 
distinction  gives  no  outward  hint  of  their 
comforting  inward  scientific  design. 
Dr.  Scholl's  Shoes  are  made  in  all  sizes 
for  all  types  of  feet — Women's,  some 
styles,  2>/2  to  13AAAAA  to  EEEEEEEE; 
Men's,  5>/2  to  16,  AAA  to  EEEEEEE. 
Expertly  fitted  at  Dr.  Scholl's  Foot  Com- 
fort® Shops  and  Shoe  and  Department 
Stores  in  principal  cities.  If  not  obtain- 
able in  or  near  your  city,  write  for  catalog. 
Dr.  Scholl's,  inc.,  Dept.  64,  Chicago  10,  Hi. 


>nderriil  New 
Permanenl  Wave 

ses  Mistakes  of  The  Past! 


It  often 
that  you  h  a  v  o 
tlie  oi)portunity 
to  oniHo  the  min- 
takos  of  tlu-  i)a.st. 


But  that's 
t  you  get  with 

It  Hii,  i,i:i;n 
m  AiiziNc; 

Ll)  WAVi: 

restores  all  of 
natural  beauty 
Qur  hair. 


at  your  favorite 
beauty  salon. 


m 

vitalizing  eold  wave 

tributed  by  the  world's  largest  Mnnu- 
turers  and  Distributors  of  Beauty 
Shop  Supplies  and  Equipment. 

GIBBS  &  COMPANY 

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HLOROPHYLL 
10UTH  WASH  r 


lEANS 


10UTH...GUMS...  ' 
REATH... 


LEANER! 


ANS  mouth  areas  where  toothbrush 
■s  not  always  penetrate  ...  removes 
m-laden,  odor-producing  film  from 
IS  and  mouth. 

At  all  drug  counters. 


ther  fine  PUREPAC  P^^d^ct 


I    \  ll  I   I    -       II  II 

that  wan  thirty  yearn  hko!"  When  the  i)ime<\ 
for  liun  once  tiiorc  ht  r  Ixxly  had  aijed,  hul  t( 
still  reciilltd  juHl  tin-  hni-n  he  n<-«<l«d  for  hm 
mule.  She  wan  a  NliinuluH  lo  hm  m  - 
ind  inspired  one  of  |im  UhI  \>\< 
:iloiie  wiiH  able  to  bruiK  out  the  lai.  m  >:;,.i,. 
buried  in  his  inind. 

Sanlayana  has  observed  tliat  "Nolhui«  m 
so  iK)or  and  iiu  laiu  holy  an  art  thai  ih  niier- 
•  Hied  in  ils«  lfand  not  in  ilsmibjecl  "  lUil  hm 
aphorism  slates  only  half  the  problem  The 
painter  must  inamtain  a  nice  lulance  l»e- 
t  ween  I|k  s4-  mtiiehls,  Ix  iween  purely  artistic 
i  lemenis  and  the  actual  exixrience  which  m 
the  raw  malerial  of  his  vision,  (hit  of  ihm 
e(|uilibrium  Krows  his  "siylf  "  Kenoir  in  ev- 
ery successhil  picture  he  iwunled  hild  ihm 
balance  The  iinane  he  placetl  on  the  canvan 
was  ininled  with  his  own  particular  Btamp 
of  iH'auly. 

I'or  this  reason  il  is  often  dillicult  to  iden- 
lily  his  m(Klels.  It  s<'ems  probable  in  this  cast- 
that  llie  youuK  ^irl  he  painted  was  Suzanne 
\  aladon,  a  fas<.•jnatin^;  prcKluci  of  the  l-'rench 
provinces.  Trained  as  a  child  to  Ix-  a  tra|x  /.e 
acrobat,  she  suffered  a  bad  fall  and  had  to 

OOOOOOOOOOO^" 

The  tatt  of  a  praochar  l>  that  hli 
congragation  goat  away  taying,  not 
"What  a  lovaly  larmon"  but  "I  will 
do  tomathlngi" 

—  »T.  FRANCIS  Dt  SALEi 

abandon  the  circus.  Then  she  beamie  the 
model  and  friend  of  Renoir,  Toulouse-I^-iu- 
tiec,  IX'uas  and  Van  (lonh.  In  her  spare  time 
she  drew  and  sketched,  learning  from  those 
for  whom  she  ix)sed,  until  she  herself  became 
an  accomplished  painter.  Her  talent  was  in- 
herited by  her  son,  Maurice  Utrillo,  who  is 
among  the  most  esteemed  of  twentieth- 
century  artists. 

Bui  the  mcxlel  is  less  important  than  the 
way  Renoir  has  painted  her.  With  extraordi- 
nary skill,  he  has  preserved  her  evanescent 
prelliness  while  imposing  on  it  his  own  con- 
cept of  style.  Her  features  are  simplified, 
made  just  sulhcienlly  abstract  lo  avoid  the 
literal,  and  yet  they  are  not  so  generalized 
that  Ihey  fail  lo  convey  the  individuality  of 
her  charm. 

A  litlle  less  artistry  and  the  picture  would 
be  loo  sweet,  loo  obvious.  Renoir  has 
accepted  a  most  difficult  challenge  and  suc- 
ceeded as  only  he  could  succeed.  He  has  man- 
aged to  make  the  likeness  of  a  pretty  girl  a 
work  of  art. 

—John  Walker 
Chief  Curalor,  National  Gallery  of  Art 


THAT  OLII  VlltrS 

(Continued  from  Page  571 

first,  you'll  want  to  know  what  are  the  symp- 
toms of  this  virus  infection— or  infections. 
How  can  you  help  your  doctor  recognize 
what  aiis  you? 

The  influenza  virus,  in  any  of  its  many 
varieties,  is  usually  pretty  severe  on  you. 
Il  causes  chills,  fever,  aches,  nausea  and 
vomiting.  Other  winter-virus  infections 
bring  on  symptoms  similar  lo  influenza. 
Your  doctor  will  diagnose  your  particular 
misery  by  whatever  symptoms  are  dominant. 
.All,  of  course,  may  be  caused  by  the  same 
virus. 

You  can  readily  recognize  colds,  which  are 
definitely  caused  by  virus,  by  running  and 
stuffed  nose.  You  may  have  a  cough,  loo,  or 
a  headache.  Sometimes  you'll  have  a  general 
bad  feeling  all  over  your  body.  The  symp- 
toms attack  you  one  at  a  time  or  all  al  once. 
They  are  miserable,  but  mild. 

\Vhen  every  muscle  seems  to  be  out  of 
place,  with  the  usual  signs  of  a  cold  added  to 
your  discomfort,  then  you  have  the  grippe. 
Often  confused  with  influenza,  grippe  is 
probably  caused  by  a  virus. 

"Intestinal  flu"  is  a  bad  name  for  what 
should  really  be  called  virus  dysentery.  You 
will  notice  the  principal  s\Tnploms  of  flu  in 


91 


. .  relax  in  Canada 

I'.njttii  fri  nh  mi cnir  hi  iinti/  .  .  .  frixh  Hummi  r  fun 
in   Ihi     Inn, I  ,,l  t  i(  IIHt\S  I  MJMITUt 


WONDERFUL  nrxlloNaliirc  <ciiiiilry  invites  you  to  play  ulicri','  '  ...in  in-; 

mouiilainlands,  in  pictures  jue  lake-and-river  scenery,  in  great  .National  Park*,  ihil  are 
gloriously  green.  Meet  interesting  people  al  smart  summer  colonies,  seclu'led  cabin  ramps. 
Spend  fascinating  days  in  "foreign"  cities;  shop  for  imported  woollens  and  fine  china. 


STORYBOOK  coastlines  and  lakeshore 
havens  offer  camera  "treasures"  and 
lazy  days  on  uncrowded  sand.s.  Go  fish- 
ing,sailing. golfing.  Havefun  rverv  dav ! 


GLAMOROUS  "name"  resorts  or  allractive  highway 
motels  .  .  .  both  give  you  the  frientlliesl  of  wel- 
comes. Plan  your  stay.  See  your  travel  or  trans- 
portation apeni  -oon;  -end  the  coupon  ii'i  v. 


CANADIAN 

Dt  pt.  of   Re? 'uroes 


01.116-  53-03 

GOVERNMENT   TRAVEL  BUREAU 

d    Dev*liipmeni,   Ottawa,  Canada 


Plc.ise  send  your  48-page,  full-colour  book  on  vacation 
.ittraotinns  in  all  parts  of  Canada  □.     Tell  me  where 
('anadun  travel  Elms  are  available  in  the  U3.A.  O 
Check  /  Of  required. 


I  PLEVsF.  PRINT) 

iddress  


92 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  1953 


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your  respiratory  tract,  but  the  symptoms  of 
virus  dysentery  are  in  your  digestive  sys- 
tem. Whenever  the  virus  infection  gets  into 
your  alimentary  tract,  diarrhea  is  usually 
the  result.  You  also  may  be  plagued  by  an 
aching  stomach  and  the  usual  cold  signs. 

Sometimes  a  few  cases  of  germ  dysen- 
tery are  to  be  found  in  a  virus  epidemic.  You 
can  tell  the  difference  between  the  two  sim- 
ply by  the  fact  that  the  mild  diarrhea  of  the 
virus  irritation  lasts  only  a  day  or  two,  no 
more.  Persistent  diarrhea  or  a  sharp  pain 
may  indicate  something  more  serious  and 
should  be  a  signal  for  you  to  call  a  physician. 

Another  type  of  winter  virus  attacks  your 
throat  or  the  tonsils — or  both.  On  top  of  the 
usual  cold  you'll  experience  a  throat  as  rasp- 
ing as  sandpaper,  or  aching  tonsils.  Viruses 
cause  75  per  cent  of  sore  throats. 

Virus  pneumonia  is  probably  the  most  se- 
vere form  of  virus  infection  of  the  winter 
type.  You  get  most  of  the  cold  symptoms, 
only  intensified.  Your  fever  will  probably  go 
quite  high.  Although  virus  pneumonia  can 
knock  you  flat  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  it  is 
rarely  a  direct  cause  of  death. 

Winter  viruses  probably  enter  your  body 
by  the  nose  and  mouth.  They  penetrate  the 
lining  of  your  respiratory  tract  known  as  the 
mucous  membrane.  This 
membrane  is  a  thin  layer 
of  tissue  embedded  with 
millions  of  tiny  moving 
hairs. 

This  membrane  is  nor- 
mally always  wet.  The 
mucus  and  the  hairs  ordi- 
narily keep  the  viruses  out. 
But  if  the  membrane  is 
disturbed  by  chemical  irri- 
tation, chilling  or  rubbing, 
the  viruses  easily  get  in. 

Chilling  alone,  or  fa- 
tigue, will  not  give  you  a 
cold.  The  virus  must  be 
present.  You've  heard  that 
Eskimos  rarely  get  colds 
until  the  white  men  arrive 
in  the  spring  and  bring 
their  civilized  viruses  with 
them. 

What  do  experts  now 
know  about  viruses?  What 
are  viruses  and  the  virus 
diseases  scientists  are  so  eager  to  cure?  Some 
experts  say  that  viruses  are  simply  bunches 
of  complex  substances,  in  many  ways  similar 
to  living  substances.  They  are  much  smaller 
than  bacteria  and  exist  in  a  state  somewhere 
between  living  and  nonliving  matter. 

Unlike  germs,  viruses  cannot  grow  outside 
of  a  living  plant  or  animal.  They  penetrate 
the  cells  of  living  things  and  take  over  all 
functions.  Somehow  they  force  the  cells  to 
turn  out  virus  parts  and  in  a  matter  of  min- 
utes new  viruses  are  formed  to  prey  on  other 
cells.  Literally,  the  cells  are  eaten  up. 

In  addition  to  the  viruses  which  cause  win- 
ter diseases,  other  types  are  known  to  be  the 
cause  of  polio,  smallpox,  rabies,  measles, 
mumps,  warts,  colds  encephalitis,  fever  blis- 
ters, shingles,  virus  pneumonia  and  yellow 
fever. 

Thus  far,  the  only  defense  against  in- 
fection by  a  virus  is  what  the  body  builds 
up  itself.  As  soon  as  the  body  is  attacked 
by  a  virus,  the  blood  gets  busy  manufac- 
turing antivirus  chemicals.  These  chemi- 
cals, called  antibodies,  remain  in  the 
blood  to  ward  off  further  virus  forays 
after  the  infection  has  disappeared.  The 
period  of  immunity  differs  considerably 
with  different  ailments.  Smallpox,  mea- 
sles, mumps  and  polio  seem  to  produce 
immunities  that  last  several  years. 

With  the  exception  of  the  one  which  causes 
influenza,  none  of  the  winter  viruses  seems  to 
produce  immunity  lasting  more  than  a  few 
months.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  scientists  have 
not  yet  isolated  them  for  comparison,  so  they 
could  be  the  same  virus — and  go  by  such 
names  as  "Virus  X"  or  "Virus  Q."  With 
such  a  short  immunity  period,  it  is  possible 
to  get  one  winter-virus  infection  right  after 
another — as  millions  of  Americans  can  testify 
each  winter. 

It  has  been  possible,  of  course,  to  make 
people  immune  to  certain  virus  diseases 


WITH  THE 
CHILDREN 

"She's  quite  old  but  her 
face  doesn't  look  like  she's 
lived  much.  Something 
happy  is  out." 

"Your  mother  calls  your 
father  'dad' — it  must  make 
him  feel  feeble!" 

"I  don't thinkthings are  ex- 
pensive," said  our  eleven- 
year-old  miss.  "I  bought 
nine  gifts  and  had  change 
from  a  dollar!" 

— KATHRVN 
COFFEY  GLENNON 


without  first  getting  the  infection.  The  most 
familiar  method  is  vaccination.  It's  used 
mostly  against  smallpox.  Using  a  weakened 
or  dead  virus  of  the  particular  virus  dis- 
ease, the  doctor  can  stimulate  the  anti- 
body mechanism  of  the  blood  to  produce 
immunity. 

First,  however,  the  virus  must  be  produced 
in  large  quantities.  Then  it  must  be  treated 
so  that,  when  it  is  injected  into  the  body,  it 
won't  do  any  harm.  Unfortunately,  because 
winter  viruses  have  not  been  isolated  mass 
production  of  a  vaccine  is  impossible. 

Some  persons  who  suffer  from  a  winter 
virus  go  so  far  as  to  insist  on  some  special 
treatment.  Tonsils  often  are  a  favorite  tar- 
get. Many  physicians  used  to  urge  parents  to 
rush  to  have  their  children's  tonsils  scraped 
out  at  the  first  sign  of  more  than  the  usual 
number  of  colds. 

These  efforts  to  prevent  colds  and  infec- 
tions can  have  tragic  results.  About  100  chil- 
dren die  each  year  as  a  result  of  tonsillec- 
tomies, cac2s  in  which  tonsils  were  removed 
to  combat  viruses  and  the  children's  throats 
became  prey  to  germs.  Nowadays  reputable 
physicians  generally  agree  that  tonsils 
should  be  removed  only  in  laboratory-proved 
cases  of  repeated,  acute  germ  infection. 

Some  patients  also 
insist  ufion  being  treated 
with  an  antibiotic  drug, 
such  as  penicillin,  or 
their  physicians  insist 
on  administering  it.  This 
is  useless,  costly — and 
dangerous.  A  Cleveland 
study  conducted  not 
long  ago  showed  that 
only  1.6  per  cent  of  all 
respiratory  infections 
could  have  benefited  by 
penicillin,  or  the  other 
wonder  drugs,  because 
these  infections  were 
causedby  germs. Viruses, 
generally  unassailable 
by  drugs,  were  responsi- 
ble for  the  other  98.4  per 
cent  of  cases. 

What  does  this  mean? 
^  -  It  means  that  tons  of 

penicillin  and  other  anti- 
germ  drugs  are  being 
wasted  every  year  by  physicians  who  give 
them  to  prevent  germ  complications— com- 
plications that  occur  only  once  in  2000  cases. 

At  fault  are  physicians  who  make  quick  or 
"telephone"  diagnoses  as  well  as  parents 
who  insist  on  penicillin  shots  at  the  first 
sniffle.  One  virus  expert  complained  that 
"doctors  are  going  crazy  with  their  needle 
jabbing." 

This  is  wanton  waste  of  one  of  the 
greatest  drugs  ever  discovered  by  man. 
But  what  is  worse,  the  use  of  penicillin 
for  virus  infections  actually  endangers 
health,  even  lives — now  and  in  the  future. 
Almost  15  per  cent  of  all  persons  have  an 
allergy  to  penicillin  and  would  suffer  pen- 
icillin reaction.  Few  doctors  make  allergy 
tests  first  to  see  if  the  patient  will  suffer 
such  a  reaction.  Yet  the  reaction  some- 
times may  be  such  a  severe  case  of  hives 
that  its  cure  is  more  difficult  than  that 
of  the  original  virus  infection. 

More  insidious,  however,  is  the  prospect 
of  germ  resistance  and  what  it  means  to  hu- 
man beings  and  their  continuing  fight  against 
disease.  Germs  can  become  resistant  to  peni- 
cillin as  well  as  to  other  antigerm  drugs. 
Some  strains  of  germs  that  survive  a  dose 
of  antibiotic  chemicals  can  even  thrive  on 
them. 

This  means  that  if  an  antibiotic  drug,  or 
antigerm  drug,  is  given  haphazardly  for  a 
virus  infection,  it  may  create  a  pool  of  germs 
in  the  body  that  are  highly  resistant  to  the 
drug.  Then,  in  the  future,  if  these  germs  ever 
got  the  upper  hand,  penicillin  or  the  other 
antigerm  chemicals  could  do  the  disease- 
ridden  patient  no  good. 

Already  scientists  have  shown  that  about 
60  per  cent  of  all  staphylococci  germs — the 
germs  that  raise  boils — are  resistant  to  pen- 
icillin. Other  germ  types  are  also  becoming 
resistant.  Some  scientists  are  speaking  in 
(Continued  on  Page  95) 


( 


Suction  alone 

cant  get  rug-dirt  out 

(and  85%  of  the  dirt  in  your  home  is  right  there  in  your  rug!) 

//  tal^es  2  other  cleaning  actions  plus  suction  to  keep  your  rugs 
fresh  and  bright . .  .free  of  germs . .  .free  of  moths . . .  and  to  protect 
rug  life.  You  get  all  three  in  a  Triple -Action  Hoover  cleaner. 


Suction  alone  can  get 
only  the  surface  litter. 


A  hose-and-nozzle  is  fine  for  sucking  up  loose  dirt  from 
bare  floors  and  upholstery.  But  dirt  buried  deep  in  heavy 
rug  fibers  resists  even  the  most  powerful  suction.  This 
"hidden  dirt"  dulls  colors,  harbors  germs  and  moths  and 
cuts  away  at  the  nap.  A  plain  suction  cleaner  just  plain 
can't  get  out  the  dirt  that  hurts;  it  isn't  engineered  to 
do  the  job! 


ntEAJS.  AS  IT5WCEP5,  AS  IT  CISANS—ON  A  CUSHION  OF  AIK...llKt  THIS 


Gentle  vibration  brings  buried  dirt  to  the  surface,  where 
suction  can  whisk  it  away.  At  the  same  time,  sweeping 
gets  stubborn  pet  hairs,  grooms  and  erects  the  nap.  And 
Hoover  stands  up  to  you;  no  bending  over  and  bearing 
down  as  with  a  hose-and-nozzle.  Ask  your  Hoover  dealer 
to  demonstrate  the  ease  and  thoroughness  of  triple-action 
cleaning  ...  on  your  own  rugs. 


Two  cleaners  in  one 


Cleaning  tools — seven 
of  them  in  handy  car- 
rying kit . . . 


Plug  into  the  side  of 
your  Hoover  as  easily 
as  plugging  in  a  light 
cord  


To  convert  it  instantly 
for  bare  floor  and 
above-floor  cleaning. 


You'll  be  happier 

with  a  Hoover 


® 


You  can  own  a  Hoo\cr  for  as  little 
as  $66.95.  Easy  terms.  Ask  your  local 
Hoo\  er  Dealer.  Prices  slightly  higher 
in  Canada.  Prices  subject  to  change 
without  notice. 

THE  HOOVER  COMPANY 

North  Canton,  Ohio ;  Hamihon,  Ontario, 
Canada;  Perivale,  England 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  19S3 


3  generations 


you 
why 


All  over  America,  three  generations  in  the  same  families 
have  chosen  Maytags.  Mrs.  C.  D.  Chapin,  Columbiaville, 
Michigan,  belongs  to  a  three-generation  Maytag  family. 
Her  Maytag  has  a  big  double-walled  tub.  Roller  Water 
Remover,  Gyrafoam  washing  action,  and  Sediment  Trap. 


Maytag  is  -Hie  /lufomorKc  for  you 


Maytag  Dutch  Oven  Gas  Range. 

Most  efficient,  best-insulated  oven 
you  can  buy.  Speedy  gas  cooking. 
Easy  to  clean.  The  Maytag 
Company,  Newton,  Iowa.  Washers 
•  Ranges  "  Freezers  •  Ironers. 


"I  grew  up  with  Maytag  washers,"  says  Mrs.  Leon  Martin  of  Detroit.  "So,  oj  course,  only  the  Maytag  Automatic  could  be  my  choice." 
She  shows  her  new  washer  to  Mother,  Mrs.  C.  D.  Chapin,  Columbiaville,  Michigan;  and  Grandmother,  Mrs.  George  Dewey,  Detroit. 


". . .  w^ashes  clothes  as  clean  as  my  Maytag  conventional," 
sayb  Grandmother,  Mrs.  George  Dewey.  Yes  .  . .  only  the 
Maytag  Automatic  has  famous  Gyrafoam  washing 
action  .  .  .  the  agitator  action  originated  by  Maytag. 
Clothes  get  cleaner  as  gentle  water  currents  wash  out 
even  the  most  stubborn  dirt.  Safety  Lid  .  .  .  open  it  — 
washing  action  stops;  close  it,  washing  resumes.  It's 
"children-proof."  No  bolting  down . . .  perfectly  balanced. 
This  Automatic  has  adjustable  legs  to  fit  uneven  floors. 


"I  like  the  way  I  can  wash  everything  from  nylons  to 
blue  jeans,"  says  Mrs.  Martin.  That's  because  the  Maytag 
Automatic  lets  you  vary  the  washing  time.  Completely 
automatic  operation  . . .  even  turns  itself  ofif .  Up-and-over 
rinse  flushes  dirt  away  from  clothes  not  through  them. 
Thorough  spin-drying  leaves  clothes  fluffy,  with  no  hard 
to-iron  wrinkles.  Built  by  Maytag  .  .  .  and  that  means 
you  can  look  forward  to  many  extra  years  of  depend- 
able, trouble-free  performance  and  cleanest  clothes. 


I<  iiiiliiiiiid  IriiDi  I'ltite  VJ) 

ins  of  slrannf  molds  urowin^  in  iIr'  tKidy 
cr  Ircaliiu'iit  by  wondiT  dnij^s. 
All  this  iiicaiis  llial  if  llu-  careless  use  (jf 
imilliM  and  oilier  wonder  drills  keeps  up, 
I'se  lilesavmu  miracles  of  modern  science 
ly  he  lost  forever. 

I'rohahly  because  we  are  so  l^;noranl  atx)wl 
-uses,  many  slranne  myllis  have  urown  up 
out  Ihein.  One  of  the  most  persistent 
ylhs  and  the  most  dannerous  is  llieone 
icussed  above:  that  there  are  man-made 
LiKs,  including;  wonder  dru^s,  that  will 
ock  out  any  virus  infection.  'I'he  fad  is 
:il  there  isn't  a  sinnle  man-made  drun  that 
.'iTcctive  auainsi  any  virus,  illcludin^;  virus 
eumonia 

Another  iiulh  claims  that  dons  and  cats 
read  colds  and  ni  ippi'  and  (lu.  Yi'T  as  far  as 
known,  cats  and  do^s  have  nothing  to  do 
Ih  the  s|)read  of  these  viruses.  Sometimes 
(Is  have  been  known  to  jiass  psiltacoccic 
eumonia,  but  this  is  rare. 
Sonu-i)eople  think  llial  viruses  really  don'l 
ist  at  all.  They  believe  that  physicians 
ide  up  the  word  to  cover  their  ignorance 
out  diseases  they  can't  diagnose.  Yei 
uses  do  exist,  and  scientists  are  learning 
)re  about  them  every  day. 
It  is  sometimes  believed  that  certain  indi- 
lualsare  virus  "carriers."  In  rare  instances 
s  may  be  true.  Some  individuals  may 
ry  a  chronic  virus 
eclion  that  never 
.'aks  out  in  symp- 
iis  but  is  always  in 
.'ir  bodies.  Polio, 
t  one  of  the  win  ter- 
ns diseases,  is  be- 
ved  lo  be  partially 
■cad  by  carriers. 
Ids  may  be  trans- 
ited in  the  same 

Doclurs  •;«'ii»'riill\ 
■'«'<■  MOM  ii(la>  s  dial 
I-  Ikiiiic  iii«-<li<-iiie 
l>iii<-l  is  pracli- 
ll\  iisflf.ss  in 
'aliii^  >viiiU'r  \i- 
s.  NofjarfiU'.spray. 
illVr.  <dl«l  tal>lel, 
iislar<l  piaster, 
alt.  aiil it'cvcr  pill, 
va  I  i  >  e.  \  i  I  am  i  II. 
id.  piiiilliec.  <-\p«-<-l<>raiit.  eoii^li  n'lii- 
>,  I'ruil  Jiii<'«'.  Iioal  lamp  or  throat 
iiitiii^  will  do  aii>lliiii^  l<>  prc>«-nt, 
orteii  or  <-iir«'  a  virus  iiifo<-tiuii. 
There  are.  however,  a  number  of  precau- 
ns  you  can  lakeland  steps  you  can  fol- 
V— to  help  you  avoid  viruses  or  get  well 
icker  if  you  should  gel  them.  You  should 
ilize,  thou.nh.  that  the  only  way  to  avoid 
uses  allotiethcr  would  be  lo  go  climb 
Dunl  Everest  and  get  away  from  people, 
ruses  are  one  of  the  prices  we  pay  for 
ving  neighbors,  for  being  social  creatures— 
■  civilization. 

Rules  for  avoiding  viruses  are  simple.  Take 
;m  seriously  and  you  may  save  yourself  a 
uple,  if  not  all,  the  virus  infections  you've 
en  getting  in  winter. 

Hero  is  what  most  physicians  tell  their 
tieiits  to(la>  : 

Keep  in  (hhhI  general  heaUh.  Eat  a 
lance<l  diet,  get  plenty  of  sleep  and 
>n't  treat  >«>ur  body  earelessly.  Doing 
ese  things  won't  keep  yon  from  getting 
cold,  of  eoiirsc.  hut  the>  shoiiKl  help 
u  fight  oir  more  <langeroiis  coniplica- 
>ns  an<l  speed  the  hnilding  of  anti- 
idies  to  rid  \oiirself  of  the  cold  more 
lickly . 

If  you  should  get  chilled,  or  come  in  con- 
ct  with  irritating  dust  or  chemicals,  or  be- 
me  overtired,  try  to  give  yourself  warmth, 
mfort  and  prolonged  rest.  This  will 
■engthen  your  resistance  to  infections  and 
Ip  protect  the  mucous  membrane  through 
lich  viruses  probably  enter  your  body. 
Once  you  have  a  virus  infection,  you  would 
I  well  to  follow  your  doctor's  advice.  He'll 
obably  tell  you  what  most  doctors  advise: 
Go  to  bed  and  get  plenty  of  rest.  Normal 
tivities— going  in  and  out — force  your 
idy  to  adjust  to  frequent  change  of  temper- 
ure.  This  further  irritates  infected  nose 


I      ^     l>     I      I  M  II 

tiiisue  and  leavt-H  the  way  o|x-n  far  Ki-rm  com- 
plicalionn.  Si|ll  iin|xjrianl  m  a  cure  fur  nuch 
a  disease  as  lub«TciiloKi»  d.-Hpiit-  publaiiy 
of  new  druK  cures  ih  rent  When  |niIio 
strikes,  ilie  IhhI  Irealmcni  m  hIiII  n  ni  iii  lutl 
during  ilie  lirsi  forlyH-MKlil  houm 

In  the  case  of  wmier-viruH  iiid-ctuinii.  H*« 
probably  jusi  an  iin|)orlanl  to  know  wimt 
nol  lodoas  what  linU>.  Allliounh  iIhk-  iiilec- 
lions  are  harmleiw,  ihey  could  U  ad  locoinph. 
cations  if  impro|RTly  handled  Irritaiion,  an 
has  ixrn  |)ointed  out,  can  wortin  ide  in- 
fection. 

If  will  lui%4*  iIm*  Miiil1li*H,  II  niomiai'li- 
iielie,  HiiKliI  iiiiiHelf  piiiim,  u  Mli^lii  roiiuli, 
Kiire  Ihroiil— ill  nliairl,  if  sonSr  jfol  llie 
\iriiH— Mill  hIioiiIiI  li-ate  il  iiloiie  mid  rr«l. 

Keep  uiiriii  and  eat  miriiiallt  .  l'orK«-l 
thai  "mIiiII  II  i-old  and  H|iir\e  ii  feier"  iioii- 

M-IIHC. 

II  >oii  liaM-  diiirrlii'ii  loi  ii  dai  or  l«o, 
don'l  li\  |i>  H|)i|>  il.  |irohiilil> 
i-oiildn't.  iin>«ii\.  \i'liiiill>,  il  roiild  do 
>oii  MiMiie  guild,  iiH  diarrlieii  mux  Im'  the 
lHid> 'm  \ta>  oreliiiiiiiiiliiig  llie  « iriiH. 

If  you  should  k)se  loo  much  lluid.  however, 
you  may  replace  il  by  drinking  water  with  a 
little  sail  and  baking  soda  in  il.  One  tea- 
siKHHi  soda  and  one  teasjxxm  salt  lo  a  <|uart 
of  water  is  the  right  pro|)orlion. 

Hed  rest  will  also  help  you  convalesce 
more  (|uickly  once  the  virus  is  gone,  Il  nol 
only  lessens  compli- 
cations, but  prevents 
the  spread  of  your 
virus  lo  the  rest  of 
your  family.  And  it 
won't  put  you  in  con- 
tact with  ixTsons  har- 
boring disease  germs 
say,  of  pneumonia. 

This  proc«-<liir«-  is 
llie  cheapest  and 
Im-sI  nieilieine  for  a 
u  iiiler-\ iriis  iiifee- 
tioii.  ('Iiances  are 
thai  if  >oii  rest  a 
<la>  or  tuo  in  Im-iI 
at  till'  right  lime 
Non'll  sii\e  MMirscIf 
a  week  of  illness  in 
iK-d  later. 

While  you're  in 
lx.'d,  and  if  you  should 
have  a  headache,  the 
best  treatment  is  warmth  and  comfort.  If 
you  feel  that  aspirin  lessens  your  discomfort, 
take  as  few  tablets  as  possible— and  not  more 
than  two  aspirin  tablets  every  four  hours. 

If  you  can't  sleep,  try  to  get  as  comfortable 
and  as  warm  as  possible.  Then  take  a  hot 
drink.  If  still  no  sleep,  some  doctors  recom- 
mend a  small  amount  of  whisky  to  promote 
drowsiness  and  establish  circulation  in  chilled 
areas.  Many  trade-name  medicines  contain 
alcohol,  which  possibly  accounts  for  their 
popularity.  Avoid  sleeping  pills;  they  are  all 
dangerous. 

Don't  take  laxatives.  If  you  become  con- 
stipated, ask  your  doctor  what  to  do.  Laxa- 
tives are  irritating  by  their  very  nature,  and 
in  virus  infections  may  make  symptoms 
worse. 

If  all  other  symptoms  are  mild,  most 
physicians  agree  that  the  best  thing  to  do  is 
leave  them  alone.  A  slight  cough,  for  ex- 
ample, is  in  some  ways  beneficial,  for  it  may 
help  you  clear  the  virus  from  your  throat.  A 
running  nose  is  best  controlled  by  blowing  it 
gently,  one  nostril  at  a  time,  into  a  dispos- 
able tissue. 

You  must  certainly  tell  \oiir  do<-lor  if 
your  distress  iM'comes  severe,  however — 
that  is.  if  voiir  temjM'ralure  rises  alnne 
101°,  if  your  coughing  Im-coiiics  iiiicon- 
trollahlc.  if  joiirsore  thrtiat  |M-rsists  more 
than  a  day  or  two,  or  w«irs«'ns  draslicallv  , 
or  if  voiir  stomach  pain  is  sharp.  Kelv 
on  your  d<M'tor  to  prescrilie  anv  medicines 
or  procedures  he  thinks  v*ill  help  >ou 
get  well  faster. 

Above  all.  don't  treat  yourself.  It 
woiiUln't  hurt  vou  t«>  go  to  your  nie<lieine 
cahinct  right  now  and  throw  awa>  the 
elixirs,  cough  inc«licines  and  other  nos- 
trums that  are  worthless.  \our  ImxIv  is  a 
good  w  inter-virus  fighter  itself,  (ii^e  it  a 
chance.  TIIK  KNP 


Satisfy  that  urge  for  somelliing  fresh  and 
exciting  by  decking  your  windows  with 
frothy  organdy!  These  beauties  by  Berk- 
shire are  sheerspring— witli  a  white  dazzle 
woven  right  in!  Thafs  because  they're 
combed  cotton,  far  smoother  and  more 
lustrous  than  ordinary  organdies. 

These  beauties  by  Berkshire  foam  with 
extra  full  ruffles,  pioot  edged.  TheyVe 
permanent  finislied  by  the  famous 


Heberlein  technique  for  lasting  crispness 
without  starch.  So.  for  those  extra  luxury 
touches,  hang  Berkshire  organdies  all 
over  your  house— in  bright  while  or  eight 
sparkling  decorator  colors. 

*       *  * 
Berkshire  Fine  Spinninp  Associates.  Inc. 
Makers  of  fine  COMBED  cottons  used  in 
home  furnishings  and  in  quality  clothing 
for  men.  uomen  and  children. 


WITH  THOSE  BEAUTIFUL 
CURTAINS  BY 

NEW  BOOKLET  ONLY  10< 


BERKSHIRE  CURTAl.NS.  Dept.  U-4.  Madison  Sq.  Station.  Box  159.  New  York  10.  N.  Y\ 

I  enclose  10(.  Please  send 
me  a  copy  of  "New  Ways 
with  indows"  showing  14 
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ments, anil  name  of  nearest 
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NAME_ 

ADDRFS 


COLD  SHOULDER 

This  goes  back  to  the  time  when  the 
English  served  as  a  favorite  dish  a 
hot,  juicy  shoulder  of  mutton.  The 
meat  was  always  at  its  flavorful  best 
for  the  welcome  guest.  But  once  a 
guest  had  outstayed  his  welcome 
and  began  to  pall  on  his  host,  the 
butler  was  ordered  to  serve  the  cold 
shoulder  of  mutton  until  the  no- 
longer-welcome  guest  took  the  hint. 
Dickens  made  the  term  common  as 
result  of  the  great  popularity  of  his 
writings. 

—  DAVID  T.  ARMSTRONG 


Built  out  from 
the  wall,  the 
new  cooking  peninsula 
brings  functioning 
part  of  kitchen 
together,  divides  off 
spot  Jor  meals. 


,  TO 
DINING 
ROOM 


/  ' 
/  TO 
Znd 
FLOOR 


oo 
oo 

1 

TO 
I  BASE-\ 
I MENT  \ 


Ri!^lit-<iiiLilr  iirningrinciit  aj  sink  iiiid  rr/ngirnliir  siiifs  nmny  steps.  Generous  ctihinet  beside  refrigerator  holds  cleaning  aids. 


In  cookiusi  peninsulii.  pan  lids  arc  filed  rerticullY  above  ivaist-high  oven. 


Dual-use  appliance  washes  and  dries 
clothes;  no  outside  venting  is  needed. 


By  t^LADYS  TAKER 


IN  the  Middle  West,  where  I  grew  up,  the  typical  house  was  comfortable, 
strongly  built,  and  big  enough  to  raise  a  good  family  in.  But  the 
kitchens  were  simply  large  rooms  with  equipment  put  in  any  old  way.  The 
rooms  were  cluttered  with  doors  and  windows,  and  the  sink  and  kitchen 
cabinet  were  fitted  in  between  wherever  there  was  wall  space.  Of  course, 
in  those  days,  the  old  stove  was  hitched  to  the  chimney. 

Such  a  kitchen  was  this,  14'  x  13  6  .  The  special  problem  of  the  home- 
maker  made  replanning  essential.  "I  love  to  cook,  but  I  can't  reach  and  I 
can't  stoop,"  she  said,  'and  getting  a  meal  is  a  marathon!"  The  laundry 
was  in  a  corner  in  the  basement,  too,  meaning  up  and  down  on  washday. 

The  solution  that  made  it  possible  for  this  homemaker  to  do  her  work 
the  easy  way  did  not  involve  structural  (Continued  on  Page  QS) 


V 


I      \    II     I     I      ~  II     >i     M     I         I     II    I      II     N     \  I 


EVERY  PIECE  OF  ( 


e//.m:  IS  A  COLLECTOR'S  ITEM 


FOR  THE  PRESIOfNT  OF  ICUADOR  .  .  .  OLORIOUf  34-KARAT  OOLO 

I  Ills  inagnilicnu  plalr  in  pari  of  a  .nervier  crcatrd  f<ir 
llic  I'lcsidfiU  of  I'.ciiaflor.  I.rnox  liaii  iiiatlr  many  otlirr 

"('oiimiaiul  I'filoi mam  r"  drrvicrit  for  ihr  ^rral  and 
famous  lit  ic  .mil  .ilno.id.  I.ciion  lir.iiiiy  is  Ircafturrcl  llir  world  over. 


FOR  YOU  .  .  .  LOVILY 


IlllTLilDdli 


KxfUiijiitr,  rn.itiirlrf)  (lowrm  .  .  .  prr<  ifjui  and  ljri«lit 
IS  jrwrli  .  .  ,  iwinkir  along  thr  flutrd  rdgc  of  thin  charming  pattern. 
Kiitlrdgr  is  of  a  particular  flawleai,  ivory  china  made  only 
liy  I/-nox.  Ixnox  rnakrs  ;u)/  this  one  quality  of  china! 

IV-amifully  tran.Hlucrnt,  amazinKly  durable,  all  I>cnox 
IS  thr  fmtil  quality  .  .  .  thr  samr  for  the  I'rmidcnt 
of  I^cuador's  tabic  and  for  youm!  .Sec 

thi.s  enchanting  pattern  .  .  .  and  many 
others  at  the  fine  stores  in  your  city. 


anil  hutler  plain,  Irarufi  and  laurm^  .  .  .  I2.'^2'> 


FOR  HHP  IM  CHOOSING  YOUR  FIME  CHIMA  send  lor  the  n.unc  ol  your  ncue.-t 

authorized  Lenox  Dealer.  Write  Lenox,  Inc.,  Dept.6-L,Trenton,  New  Jersey.  Enclose  25f 
if  you  wish  "The  Reference  Book  of  Fine  China"  with  full<olor  pattern  and  price  leaflets. 


MING- COUPE 

S  piece  place  setting.  $!9.?5 


LENOX  ROSE 

5-piece  place  setting.  $16.25 


AMERICA'S    WORLD-FAMOUS    FINE  CHINA 


98 


1,    \    1)    I    K    S  •       II    ()    \l    K       J    O    i;    K    \    \  L 


April,  1953 


BRIltO     THB  BBSr  BUY! 
MORE  PADS  IN  B/ERY  BOX 


AND  New 
BRiliO 

SOAP  PADS 

LAST  LONGER, 

— l_I^L 

IWiee  the  Shine 

in  half -the -time! 


BRILLO 


Shines  AluBjii 


Guaranteed  by 
.Good  Housekeeping 


Save  money!  Buy  Brillo! 

Count  .  .  .  compare !  You'll  find  you 
get  more  Brillo  pads  in  every  box! 
And  you  can  shine  more  pans  with 
every  Brillo®  pad — because  Brillo 
contains  more  metal  fiber  and  more 
polishing  soap! 

A  sturdy  metal-fiber  Brillo  pad- 
with-soap  lifts  off  greasy  crust  and 
scorch  in  seconds !  Brillo  scours  — 
cleans  —  shines  aluminums  all  at 
once!  Wonderful  for  ovens,  stove 
burners,  casseroles,  too! 

The  shining  difference  in  Brillo 

is  jeweler's  polish!  Shine-meter 
tests  prove  Brillo  actually  gives 
aluminums  twice  the  shine  in 
half  the  time^ — as  other  types  of 
cleansers  tested !  Get  your  Brillo 
bargain  today! 


BRILLO  SOAP  PADS 

(Red  box) 
soap-filled  pads 


BRILLO  CLEANSER 

{Green  box) 
pads  plus  cake  soap 


Greater  Value and  12  pad  boxes! 


MAKE-EA^Y  KITCHEX 

(Continued  from  Page  96) 


changes  which  would  be  too  expensive.  The 
biggest  change  was  putting  in  a  new  wide 
window  over  the  sink.  Since  the  equipment 
had  been  used  many  long  years,  it  was  time 
to  retire  it  and  turn  to  new  appliances.  A 
logical  time  to  replan  the  kitchen. 

What  the  Journal  did  was  to  bring  the 
cooking  center  closer  to  the  rest  of  the 


Counter  and  cooking  top  are  a  convenient 
34"  height.  Slide-out  pan  rack,  peg  board 
for  tools  save  on  the  reaching  and  stooping. 

kitchen  by  a  peninsula  arrangement  extend- 
ing from  the  wall  near  the  dining-room  door. 
In  this,  a  gas  range  with  separate  oven  at 
waist  height  was  installed.  The  cooking  top 
was  set  two  inches  lower  than  average,  to 
make  for  easy  stirring  and  braising.  The  pans 
were  hung  on  a  sliding  rack  in  the  cupboard 
beside  the  burners— no  reaching  for  them.  At 
the  side  of  the  oven,  spoons,  forks  and  ladles 
and  even  pot  holders  were  accommodated  by 
one  of  those  marvelous  peg  boards. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  peninsula,  ample 
storage  cabinets  and  shelves  hold  dishes  and 
glassware  for  setting  the  table— just  a  step 
away  under  a  pleasant  window. 

The  sink  is  under  the  second  window  with 
the  dishwasher  beside  it.  To  make  it  easy  to 
load,  the  dishwasher  has  two  plastic-covered 
racks  that  can  be  pulled  out  separately.  The 
top  rack  is  circular  in  shape,  and  the  water 
action  makes  it  turn  slowly.  On  this  sink 
wall  there  is  space  under  the  counter  for  a 
comfortable  chair-stool  and  for  a  rolling  table 
which  saves  so  much  work  in  any  kitchen. 

The  electric  mixer  rolls  out  on  a  little  dolly 
of  its  own  when  it  is  needed,  slides  back  ef- 
fortlessly out  of  the  way  in  the  corner  when  it 
isn't  in  use. 

In  the  new  plan,  the  laundry  moves  from 
the  basement,  for  there  is  room  at  the  left  of 
the  sink.  The  new  laundry  is  a  honey,  too,  for 
it  not  only  washes  the  clothes  but  dries 
them— all  in  one  unit.  Compared  with  a  sep- 
arate washer  and  dryer,  this  work-saving  ap- 
pliance is  so  modest  in  the  space  it  needs, 
it  will  fit  into  many  kitchens.  What  won't 
they  think  of  next !  The  laundry  supplies  are 


right  at  hand  on  a  smart  open  shelf  on 
the  wall. 

The  refrigerator  is  at  the  right  of  the  sink 
and  has  shelves  that  roll  out  so  it  doesn't 
take  a  long-armed  reach  to  pick  out  the  dish 
of  peaches  at  the  back.  When  you  open  the 
door,  eggs  and  cream  and  such  are  right  at 
hand,  in  shelves  built  in  the  door.  The  work 
counter  here  has  a  pull-out  cutting  board. 
Extra  measuring  utensils  and  seasonings  are 
in  a  reachable  open  shelf  above.  Salad  in  a 
jiffy  at  this  preparation  center. 

The  corner  cabinet  between  refrigerator 
and  sink  has  roll-around  shelves  which  save 
stooping  and  peering  for  that  missing  pan. 
Trays  and  platters  go  in  a  rack  over  the  re- 
frigerator, set  forward  for  easy  handling. 
With  an  arrangement  like  this,  any  tray  or 
chop  dish  can  be  selected  without  upsetting 
a  tipsy  stack. 

The  tall  cabinet  beside  the  refrigerator  is 
the  cleaning  center  for  the  whole  first 
floor.  It's  as  deep  as  the  base  cabinets  so 
there  is  space  for  a  vacuum  and  its  attach- 
ments, a  carpet  sweeper  and  the  usual  assort- 
ment of  brushes  and  brooms.  Then,  a  tier  of 
shelves  along  one  side  holds  cleaning  supplies. 
It  is  a  wonderful  timesaver  to  have  these 
things  all  together. 

Even  the  telephone  is  made  easy — it  fits  on 
the  top  counter  of  the  peninsula  where  it  can 
be  reached  from  either  side. 

A  restful  gray  plastic  tile  floor  is  easy  to 
clean  and  easy  to  walk  on.  A  gray  linen- 
weave  design  in  a  hard-surfaced  plastic  makes 


Corner  turn-arounds  in  base  and  wall  cabi- 
nets bring  contents  to  the  front.  With  dolly, 
mixer  rolls  out  of  its  storage  corner  easily. 


Shelves  behind  oven  handily  hulil  cook- 
books, radio,  recipe  file,  prized  pottery,  and 
table   appliances  —  all   close   at  hand. 

the  counter  tops  durable  and  cleanable.  For 
counter  tops  this  material  is  available  already 
secured  to  plywood. 

The  wood  cabinets  are  white  lined  with . 
red,  and  the  blue  walls  are  washable  paint.  A  j 
special  touch  is  a  border  around  the  splash  j 
area  of  beautiful  ceramic  tile  which  can  be  ; 
wiped  off  with  a  damp  cloth. 

Even  the  crisp  and  delightful  ruffled  cur- 
tains  are  a  make-easy  idea.  They  are  made  of 
a  really  wonderful  glass  fabric  which  you  can 
wash  and  rehang  at  the  windows  in  a  few 
minutes  I  No  ironing ! 

The  restful  gray  was  chosen  for  the  dining 
table  and  chairs,  and  the  chairs  are  extra- 
comfortable.  Table  top  and  chair  upholstery 
clean  with  a  damp  cloth  too!  For  casual 
meals  or  buffet  parties  or  a  midday  cup  of  tea 
this  is  ideal. 

Ingenious  work  savers  in  this  kitchen 
helped  the  homemaker  carry  on  when  the  or- 
der came  to  take  it  easy.  Now  her  pace  is , 
slower  and  her  routine  simpler.  But  she  finds 
a  real  satisfaction  in  working  in  this  room 
that  has  been  fitted  to  her  special  needs. 

As  I  took  a  last  look  at  this  kitchen,  I 
thought  how  packed  with  good  ideas  it  was 
for  other  homemakers  who  can't  reach  or 
stoop.  What  fun  the  family  would  have.  And 
at  the  day's  end,  the  homemaker  would  feel  i 
fresh  and  rested. 

Any  old  house  would  love  a  Make-Easy  > 
Kitchen  I  the  end  I 


I    \  l>  I  I 


H     i>     \|     I         J     II     I      l(     S     \  I 


pyrlshl  10S3  liy  Tli"  Hi.v.ti  l!i>  Compnny. 


it  a  family  supply  of  24  boHles.  Buy  7-Up  by 
e  case.   Or  get  the  handy  7-Up  Family  Pack. 

isy-lift  center  handle,  easy  to  store.  Buy  7-Up 
lerever  you  see  those  bright  7-Up  signs. 


77ie  /l//'fam/7^  Z^^y/// 
X^i/  ///:e  /^...  /f/ZAes  yoi// 

Take  any  day  in  spring  when  the  sun's  warm  and  bright 
and  you've  been  out  in  it — and  that's  a  "fresh  up"  time, 
sure  enough!  In  fact,  any  time  you're  tliirsty,  there's 
nothing  quite  Uke  sparkhng,  crystal-clear  7-Up — 
so  pure,  so  good,  so  wholesome,  folks  of  all  ages  can 
enjoy  it  to  their  hearts'  content. 


7% 


100 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  1953 


POINTED  ANTIQUE 


This  traditional  Paul  Revere  design  goes  equally  well  with  contemporary  and 
colonial  furnishings.  Beautifully  suited  to  monogramming.  Six-piece  setting,  $29.75. 


FRANCIS  I 

Probably  the  most  famous  pattern  of  all  time,  this  magnificently  baroque  sil- 
ver graces  the  tables  of  Presidents  and  Princesses!  Six-piece  setting,  $36.00. 


FRENCH  RENAISSANCE 

FRENCH  RENAISSANCE  is  an  unusually  heavy  sterling.  It  combines  a  feeling 
for  great  luxury  with  exceptionally  deep  sculpturing.  Six-piece  setting,  $33.75. 


GEORGIAN  ROSE 

This  gracious  sterling  pattern  derives  from  the  golden  age  of  design.  It  har- 
monizes with  Chippendale  and  18th  century  decor.  Six-piece  setting,  $28.75. 


MARLBOROUGH 

MARLBOROUGH  would  add  distinction  to  a  bride's  first  supper  or  a  diplomat's 
state  dinner.  Its  elegance  will  never  go  out  of  fashion.  Six-piece  setting,  $28.75. 


SILVER  WHEAT 

Reed  &  Barton's  inspired  new  pattern  is  the  "New  Americana"  look  in  sterling. 
SILVER  WHEAT  combines  simplicity  with  great  charm.  Six-piece  setting,  $29.50. 


BURGUNDY 

Notice  the  superb  sculpturing  of  each  scroll,  leaf  and  flower.  BURGUNDY  ex- 
presses the  French  taste  for  sophisticated  design.  Six-piece  setting,  $33.75. 


DANCING  FLOWERS 


Balance,  rhythm  and  enchantment  captured  in  the  beauty  of  sterling  silver! 
DANCING  FLOWERS  is  delightful,  romantic  and  young.  Six-piece  setting,  $28.75. 


FLORENTINE  LACE 

In  this  exquisite  and  lace-like  new  sterling,  the  traditional  art  of  piercing  is  ' 
brought  to  truly  beautiful  and  intricate  perfection!  Six-piece  setting,  $38.50. 


CLASSIC  FASHION 

Authentic  reproduction  of  a  Queen  Anne  original.  The  knives  have  pistol  handles 
and  the  spoons  have  the  traditional  "rat-tail"  effect.  Six-piece  setting,  $37.50.  , 

ALL  PRICES  INCLUDE  FED.  TAX 


What  every  bride  should  know 

before  choosing  her  sterhng 


The  first— and  most  surprising  — thing  to  know  about  sterling  is  that  the 
famous  Reed  &  Barton  patterns  illustrated  here  cost  no  more  than  ordinary 
patterns.  Reed  &  Barton  are,  of  course,  in  a  class  by  themselves.  These  su- 
perb New  England  silvermasters  have  been  making  sterling  for  the  best 
families  in  America  since  the  time  of  President  Monroe.  Their  designers 
have  an  extraordinary  genius  for  adapting  the  traditional  patterns  of  the 
past  to  the  tastes  of  today. 

You  can  be  certain  that  the  Reed  &  Barton  pattern  you  select  will  always 
be  available.  And,  because  they  are  absolutely  authentic,  Reed  &  Barton 
patterns  will  never  go  out  of  style.  Two  very  important  considerations. 


Shop  this  page  for  the  pattern  you  want  to  live  with  for  the  rest  of  your 
life.  Then  ask  your  retailer  to  let  you  hold  it.  Notice  how  perfectly  balanced 
it  is.  Feel  the  glorious  weight  of  it— solid  sterling  through  and  through. 

Nothing  could  give  your  new  home  greater  distinction  than  a  real  sterling 
service  by  Reed  &  Barton  — the  leaders  in  silver  craftsmanship. 


REE  ID  C&  BARTOI^ 

TAUNTON,  MASSACHUSETTS 


I    \  II  I  I 


M  I 


I.KT  I  S  III*  U\y 

((  'iiiiliiiiii  il  friiiii  I'lU'x  67) 


I '.111  the  ai)i)lf  trees  are  in  liiid  aiul  the 
1.  iiy  trees  are  preparirin  llieir  olleriiin  <>l 
\(  liiiess  and  to  1111  those  cherry  pies.  And 
spells  the  time  ol  wild  llovvers  in  tlie 
(Kills,  and  assures  us  that  summer  will  s(M)n 

lure.  And  best  ol  all,  llu'  slrean\s  will  s<x)n 
ursl  into  the  Spring  Son«  beloved  of  every 
shernian  in  the  land,  ^'es,  1  a|)prove  of 
pril. 

lU'M  of  ceU'hralious.  Now  we  have  eoine 
)  the  best  in  the  cek'bralion  line.  Th.-il 
leans  any  day  you  clioost',  for  any  rhyme  or 
cason,  UA  KUi'slsor  lOr  just  the  home  folks 
n  April  dniner.  We  feel  pretty  nay  and 
eady  for  a  k<>'>(1  time,  so  why  not  ?  Let's  jiiek 
day  dedicated  to  any  one  occasion  or  to 
lothinn  at  all.  And  set  the  table  with  our 
'cry  best,  and  lii;ht  the  lire,  lor  the  evenings 
till  are  chilly,  and  forget  the  problems  that 
)esel  us    we  all  have  them    and  jusl  be 
;ay  Arc  you  with  me  r' 

The  dinner  jor  tin  day.  .Ml  these  things 
neetinn  with  your  approval,"we  nuuhl  start 
he  proceediniis  with 


.IKI.I.IKII-CI.VM- 
MI  IH.i:^  W  I 


\M)-  lOM  \  lO 
III  I.KIMON 


inl  lcn  I  cm  <■!<)[><■  iiiillas orcil  ^claliii  in  J.f 
lip  eold  ualer.  Ilciit  I  eiip  loiiiiilo-jiiirc 
ir  vi'«;«'lalil<--juic('  rorL  tail  « i(h  '  ■_>  liav  leaf. 
2  teaspoon  sail,  I  laldcspoon  \  iiir<;;ar  ami  a 
I'w  eol<'r\  l<'a\e.-i.  SiiiiiiKT 

0  iiiiiiiile.s.  .Siraiii.  \<l<l 
he  sofl<Mi<Ml  •.;elaliii  anil 
tir  iinlil  dissolved.  Slip  in 
4  cup  iinliealed  loiiialo- 
iilce  or  ve';elal)l<"-jiiie«' 
oektail  and  pour  iiilo  a 
hallow    pan.  Meaii\kliil<- 

ollcn  I  envelope  iinllavorfd  fielalin  in  '.j  rup 
lam  jiiiec.  Ileal  I  eiip  elaiii  jiii<'e  lo  hoiliii^. 
Liiil  the  .soClened  f^olalin  and  slir  iinlil  <Iis- 
i>lve<l.  Add  %  Clip  iiiiheatod  elain  jiiiee  anil 
(iiir  into  another  sliallow  pan.  Chill  holli 
elatin  inixlures  until  .sel.  \\  lien  .set,  eiil  llie 
elalin  inio  eiihes  and  loss  llie  Iwo  niixliires 
L>f;elher  uilli  a  fork.  I'laeeiii  howls.  Sprinkle 
ilh  finelv  iiiiii<-e<l  sea  1 1  ions  or  fireen  onions — 
(ps  and  all.  Serve  >\  ilh  lemons  enl  in  quarters 
r  lain  V  shapes  made  I'roiii  pretty  ihiek  sliees. 
qiieezable  ones,  I  mean. 

Ham  shines  like  the  first  frost  on  tlic  fallen 
;aves.  It  satisfies  like  the  waters  of  Baby- 
)n.  and  it  is  as  great  in  its  universal  appeal 
s  Babe  Ruth  was  when,  his  I  don't  know 
ow  many  home  runs  completed,  he  became 
he  hero  of  the  diamond  and  took  his  right- 
.il  niche  in  the  Hall  of  Fame  of  baseball.  By 
:ie  way,  did  you  know  that  I 've  become  a 
aseball  fan?  Fancy,  after  all  these  years. 

A  new  (?)  approach.  Right  now.  to  get 
ou  out  of  your  suspense,  I  am  giving  you  a 
am  for  our  dinner  that  will  help  no  end  to 
lake  you  the  gayest  of  hostesses,  the  pride 
f  all  who  come  to  share  it  with  you.  and  the 
lory  of  this  superb  dish.  So  let  us  go  with  no 
irther  delay  (don't  skip  a  word),  and  this 
;  what  I  do  about 

IJAKKI)  HAM  W  ITH 
ORANGK-CRAMJKRKV  GLAZE 

akc  your  ham  as  usuaJ  in  an  open  roaslini; 
an.  ill  a  moderalelv  slow  oven.  32.S°  V..  fol- 
luini;  lime  and  lemperaliire  ^iven  with  llie 
am.  I  r  i  I  isn'l  a  I  least  li  in  led  a  I.  go  to  a  -rood 
Dok  or  a  piod  iiia<;a7iiie  ami  il'll  "live  I  he  show 
»  ly  at  the  drop  of  a  hat.  Alk)«  I  f  miiiiiles 
IT  pound  for  a  0—8  puiiiid  ready-lo-eal-lype 
am.  Kifiiire  il  out  on  little  Ben's  l)laekl)oaril. 
ake  olT  llie  skin  and  seore  the  fat.  Here's  a 
e\v  way  to  do  il.  Easy  as  openiii'i  a  eaii,  and 
lal's  just  what  you  do.  Bend  one  open  end 

1  a  small  frozen  eoneenlrale*!  orange-  or 
-anherry-juiee  ean  into  an  oval  or  egg 
lape.  Luse  this  to  score  the  fat  in  ovals, 
lace  whole  cloves  close  together  around 
leh  oval  and  put  a  Itlanclied  almond  hall  in 
lefi  center,  (ilaze  with  ihe  following  iiiix- 
ire:  Ileal  I  cup  orange  marmalade  with  ]/i 


Envy  has  no  holidays. 

-FRANCIS  BACON 


'  "'"I'  »"l<r.  HaM.-  Ill,-  I  ,  ,1  |„„. 

a"il  l.ak.  KL'K  .JO  miin.l.- |oM...  r.  li^l  il,. 

illiiioiiil.,  are  Iminlril. 

Ciicnmher  slory  purr  say-sii.  The  cu 
cumber  is  as  old  as  writ  ten  hmlory  1 1  Hlarl  wl 
out  as  a  drug.  And  nuess  what  it  cured,  or 
was  sjiid  to?  'I  hc  inaladieK  that  invade  the 
brain.  The  inference  is  that  thoHe  who  aren't 
endowed  with  too  much  ^',ray  matter  may  eal 
cucumbers  to  their  heart^f'  content.  And  n<»- 
Ixtdy's  business.  Ihe  brainy  oneH,  Huch  an 
those  who  invented  v'.un|X)wder.  Iietter  lay 
oil  the  green  seducer. 

Will,  inoiinh  of  Hull.  We  eal  them  now. 
Out  in  the  pumpkin  or  corn  patch  where  they 
grow,  warm  outside,  iK-eled  with  a  jackknife. 
and  lound  "c<m)1  as  a  cucumlM-r"  v  ithin.  In 
salads,  relishes,  stuffed,  cooked  oli,  dozens 
of  ways,  and  the  dead-end  rial  a  ar  •  for- 
gotten and  forsworn.  New  and  enchanting 
ways  to  serve  them  U])  are  sought  by  the 
cucumber  lovers,  and,  all  friendly  with  horse- 
radish (I'll  give  you  the  low-down  on  thai 
one  of  these  days),  here's  a  s;iiic.'  for  vonr 
ham,  and  il  will  pay  olT.  for  il's 

ClCl  MIH:i{-ll<H{S|:-|{  vKlsii  s\|(;|.; 

I'ccI  2  ciicuiiilicrs  ami  rniiovc  ^ccdr..  <  iliop 
line.  (  Tlicre  should  lie  alioiil    I -'a  cups.  If 
there  isn't,  more  eiiciimlier.H   lliaii  2  make 
a  siiiiimci.  l  ook  lor  more.)  Mix  with  I  cup 
mayonnaise,  7i  teaspoons 
prepared    liorse-railisli.  1 
leas|ioons  prcparcil  miis- 
lard.  I  lcasp<Hiii  salt  and  a 
dash  of  red  pepper.  Mix 
well,  don't  uccp  anil  keep 
il  anil  V  iiiirself  cool.    I  lot 
stiilT— liol    weather.   (  ool 
as  a  cnciiiiiher.  I  liai's  the  answer. 

CKI.KK^  CI  KI.S 

('ill  pieces  of  celery  3"  long  so  tliev  are  all 
even.  (!ul  down  at  each  end  towani  llie 
cenlcral  '  ^"  intervals,  without  ciitling  clear 
through  the  middle.  ( !ut  out  rings  from  y^" 
slices  of  carrot.  I'lil  two  celerv  pieces  lo- 
gelher  and  slip  the  carrot  ring  over  them. 
Put  llieiii  in  ice  water:  the  celerv  curls  and 
the  two  pieces  are  held  last  in  the  iiiiilille  liy 
the  carrot  ring. 

CRKAMKI)  I'OTATOKS 

I'eel  and  cut  iiitoeiglillis  lengthwise,  then  into 
tliin  slivers  I  I  iiiciliiim-si/.e  firm  raw  potatoes 
to  serve  well  your  laniily  and  guests.  (Don't 
use  haking  potatoes.  They  are  I<m)  mealy. 
I  se  lliose  wav-dow  ii-KasI  proiliiels.)  (.'nt 
iheiii  into  a  howl  of  ice  water  .so  they  won't 
discolor.  I'lil  a  quart  of  light  cream  into  a 
deep,  heavy  frying  pan.  Drain  the  potatoes 
and  put  them  right  in  the  cream.  Season  w  ith 
salt,  pepper  and  paprika,  and  let  them  cook 
slowlv  until  the  sauce  is  alioiil  the  i-oiisist- 
eiicv  of  heavy  cream.  The  potatoes  lake 
care  of  the  thickening.  So  mi  Hour.  Half 
milk  and  half  cream  may  he  used.  Biil,  girls, 
il  has  to  he  real  cream.  Nothing  plioiiv. 
-Season  well.  ( .ook  slowly,  stir  carefully. 
Don'l  overcook.  Kach  piece  should  lie  linn 
and  separate.  These  are  the  only  creamed 
potatoes  worth  writing  ahoiil.  If  not  over- 
cooked, any  left  over  make  >wonilerfiil  an 
gratin  in  iniliviilual  casseroles. 

Up  from  llie  Mother  Earth.  Mother 
Earth  is  indisputable  bounty  to  her  children. 
She  has  no  counting  machine.  Her  benefi- 
cence knows  no  limit.  In  the  spring,  she  flings 
open  the  windows  of  her  generosity.  In  the 
summer  her  shelves  are  stocked  to  over- 
flowing with  the  slafT  of  life.  And  when  fall 
comes,  as  it  does,  in  all  its  magnificence  and 
glory,  she  has  provided  for  the  leaner  months, 
the  food  for  man  and  his  wards,  the  animals, 
their  sustenance,  blow  the  horns  of  winter  as 
they  may. 

The  early  and  the  sea.  One  of  the  earliest 
of  the  great  market  basket  in  the  garden  is 
asparagus.  In  April  it  is  ready  to  grace  our 


P  frozen  coneeniraied  cranherrv  juice  and   tables  and  enchant  our  palates,  and  no  mat- 


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102 


I,    \    I)    I  K 


II  ()   M  !■; 


.1  ()  I' 


\  1, 


FIOYT.EDGE 


shelf  lining  paper 
and  edging  (aiun-one) 


for  that  FRESH, 
CRISP  LOOK! 


Throw  open  the  doors  and  bring  Spring  ir 
Royledge  shelving  lining  paper  and  edg 

designs  add  life,  sparkle  and  freshness  to  shelves  and  closets  throughout  the 
house.  Royledge,  up  in  minutes,  brings  your  home  a  fresh,  crisp  look  for  just 
a  few  pennies.  Wherever  your  shelves  may  be— use  sparkling-bright,  cheery-light 
Royledge  shelving.  Plasti-chrome  finish  wipes  clean  with  a  damp  cloth— won't 
fade,  can't  curl.  Select  your  pet  patterns  at  your  variety,  super  market,  department 
or  favorite  neighborhood  store.  Write  for  colorful  tips  on  decorating. 


i 


eage 


® 


I 


IZ>esignecl  for 


living,  everydsty  ! 


ler  in  what  way  it  is  dressed  and  comes  to 
the  party,  it  is  the  most  delicate  and  delicious 
treat  Mother  Earth  sets  before  us.  Treat  it 
right.  Don't  overcook.  Break  the  ends,  cook 
in  as  little  water  as  you  can.  Hot  on  toast, 
with  butter  or  hollandaise  sauce,  or  cold  in  a 
salad,  and  you  are  serving  an  unforgettable 
delight. 

As  for  the  sea  Not  much  to  be  said, 

at  this  time.  Only  for  that  little  mystery 
known  as  an  anchovy.  And  one  of  these  days, 
when  I  find  some  loose  moments,  I  '11  look 
into  what  and  why  this  strange  creature  is. 
And  of  course  let  you  in  on  what  I  find  out. 
Can  you  hang  on  until  1  get  the  time?  Thank 
you.  You're  so  nice.  Thank  you,  again. 

ASPARAGIS  SAI  AI)  W  ITH 
ANCHOVY  l>Ki:SSING 

( !<)<>k  2  poiinils  fresh  ;isparaj;iis  in  l)()ilinj; 
.saheil  «aler.  (Break,  (lon'l  ciil.  (he  loii^ii 
pari.  Sc.  .il)  ihe  slalks.  Tie  in  hiiiu  he.s.  \\  hen 
eoolved,  slip  off  ihe  slrinf;s.)  Cool.  Mariiiale 
in  Freneli  (Iressinj;.  .\l  serving  lii?ie  drain  the 
aspara<;ii.s  and  arranf;e  on  a  bed  of  letlnee 
fiarnished  willi  en«hve.  Add  a  ean  of  rolled 
anchovies,  drained.  Garnisli  willi  radish 
roses. 

This  lovely  thing.  One  of  the  loveliest 
colors  is  green.  1  don't  care  ivhich  shade  it  is 
from  hunter's — I  was  never  a  hunter,  but 
let  that  go — and  any  other  shade  suits  me.  I 
love  the  green  of  the  little  scallion  tops,  the 
tentative  green  of  the  first  leaves,  and  the 
emerald  green  of  the  early  corn.  Oh,  I  love 
green.  That's  my  color. 

Mint  is  another  thing.  And  mint  has  a 
prominent  part  in  the  dessert  that  is  com- 
pleting the  fine  spring  dinner  I 've  been  de- 
scribing, or  trying  to.  It's  a  sherbet,  cool  as  a 
brook  in  the  mountains.  1  know  a  honey  up 
in  Bridgewater.  And  I 'm  going  up  there  soon. 
Season's  on.  And  let  the  trout  look  out.  1 
fish  with  bait,  not  flies. 

Come  to  the  party.  Come  and  join  us. 
We'll  be  having  a  wonderful  time.  And  after 
the  dinner  we've  been  enjoying,  let's  polish 
it  off  in  a  big  way,  and  crown  it  with 

MINT-SHERBET  RING 

fill  .3  pints  slightly  softened  letnon  sherbet 
in  a  boul.   Beat  <[iii(kK    with  an  electric 


AprU,  19.' 

mixer  or  rotary  healer.  Mix  in  ^  teaspoo 
mint  extract  and  lint  a  pale  green  with  greei 
food  coloring.  Cut  6  strips  waxed  paper,  l; 
wide,  12"  long.  Lay  them  in  a  .5 -cup  rin 
mold  with  the  ends  of  the  strips  up.  Pack  i 
the  sherbet.  Freeze  firm  in  the  freezing  con 
partmeiit. 

At  least  .3  hours  before  serving  time,  dii 
the  mold  ijuickly  in  warm  water.  Run  j' 
knife  aronn<l  the  edges.  Turn  out  upsid 
down  on  a  baking  sheet  so  that  the  ends  o| 
llie  waxed  paper  are  out  from  under  th^' 
mold.  Lift  olT  the  mold.  Peel  off  the  papel 
strips.  Sprinkle  tlie  top  of  the  ring  with  ', 
tal)lesp(>ons  fresh  grated  coconut.  Refreeze 
For  serving,  transfer  the  ring  to  a  chop  plat 
or  shallow  howl.  Choo.se  your  handsomestr 
Things  do  taste  f)elter  when  they  come  fron' 
a  heanlihil  setting.  The  eye  speaks,  the  tast(i 
answers  it.  Fill  the  center  of  the  ring  with  }j 
(piarl  washed,  hulled  and  sweetened  sirawl 
l)erries.  (rarnisli  uilh  sprigs  of  mint. 

Let  us  he  flower-wise— let  us  be  gay.  wJ; 
hope  you  are  gazing  with  agogment  at  ouii 
centerpiece,  which  is  an 

EASTER  TREE 

Make  an  opening  in  the  ends  of  raw  eg, 
with  sharp-pointed  scissors,  at  least  as  round 
as  a  pencil  end.  Shake  out  tlie  raw  egg  into  a§ 
h<)«  I.  \\  ash  out  an<l  dry  the  shells.  Tint  with? 
vegetable  colors — delicate  colors  are  hest.ij 
No«    glue   tiny  l)lossom  ends  of  artificial  >l 
flowers  on  the  shells.  Make  an  arrangement' ii 
of  a  few  bare  l»ranches  in  a  low  houl.  Keep 
them  low.  Slip  the  decorated  eggs  over  thai 
tii)s  of  the  l)ranches  as  you  see  done  in  thej 
picture,  \rrange  small  spring  flowers  among! 
the  l)ranches.  ' 


Gay  is  the  way.  We  may  walk  in  the 
woods  at  evening,  for  the  wood  winds  call  to 
me.  1  would  that  the  buds  of  the  familiar 
trees  were  shadowing  us  today.  Hearing  the 
song  of  the  springtime,  the  promise  of  sum- 
mer to  be.  The  whippoorwill  in  the  hawthorn 
hedge  has  many  a  tale  to  tell.  And  maybe 
you'll  hear  the  mockingbird  if  you  listen  at 
close  of  day.  And  now  the  campfire  is  glow- 
ing and  the  brook  is  running  free.  Tackle's 
all  in  order  and  under  the  linden  tree  we'll 
make  our  home  for  the  day  to  come.  And 
April  is  patterned  for  love  and  patterned  for 
you  and  for  me.  So  let  us  be  gay.  the  v.\u 


Royal  Lace  PaperWorks,Inc.,  99  Gold  St.,  Brooklyn  1,N.Y.( A  subsidiary  of  Eastern  Corp.] 


By  MARCELENE  COX 


MOTHERS  always  want  their  daugh- 
ters to  manage  their  husbands  ex- 
actly the  way  they  didn't. 

Boy  with  new  job:  "The  way  to  get  paid 
is  every  day;  come  home  at  night  with  the 
money  in  your  fist." 

To  heir  is  human. 

A  girl  kissed  by  many  men  may  remain 
fundamentally  the  same,  but  she  soon 
seems  like  a  newspaper  picked  up  on  the 
subway. 

"I  know  dieting  makes  you  beautiful, 
mother;  especially  when  you  spend  for 
make-up  what  you  save  on  candy." 

That  two  can  live  as  cheap  as  one 
Is  said  before  the  girl  is  won. 

"The  difficulty  with  a  charge  account," 
says  one  of  the  neighborliood's  older 
brides,  "is  that  your  husband  can  see  how 
you  spent  the  money." 

Raising  children  of  assorted  ages  is  like 
cooking  different-sized  potatoes  in  the  same 
pot. 

A  bride  should  always  canvass  the  tastes 
of  her  husband's  palate. 


History  of  a  little  girl's  doll:  Undressed 
twenty  limes,  soaked  in  soapy  water  and 
scrubbed  with  a  hairbrush;  clothes  wrung 
out  violently  and  folded  and  ironed  with  a 
cold  iron;  dressed  twenty-one  times  by 
mother;  smeared  with  jelly,  drenched  with 
milk  and  cocoa;  trod  upon,  run  over  with  a 
tricycle  and  gocart;  and  clasped  fondly  to  a 
little  girl's  heart  one  hundred  and  sixty-two 
times. 

Other  people's  children  seem  to  make 
more  noise  than  your  own,  just  as  clocks  in 
other  homes  sound  louder. 

My  neighbor  says  the  reason  she  lets  her 
husband  help  with  the  housework  occa- 
sionally is  not  just  to  give  her  a  lift  but  to 
let  him  lift  the  weight  of  woman's  work. 

I  have  a  predilection  for  any  man  who 
will  stoop  and  pick  up  a  fleck  of  lint  from  a 
plain  rug.  (Once  I  saw  one  who  did.) 

A  laugh  a  day  keeps  the  psychiatrist 
away. 

Any  mother  can  be  sure  of  receiving 
flowers  when  she  returns  from  a  trip— no 
matter  how  long  she's  away;  all  she  needs 
do  is  fill  the  vases  before  she  leaves. 


Anyone  can  bake 

Homemade 
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((  iiiiliiiiii.l  iriiiti  f,ij) 

i<»  l:ikf  iliu  risk  of  leaviriK  ilu-ir  (leHkn  in 
(lisorck-r. 

I''ar<)iik  h:ul  a  passion  for  t  Ic-atiliiu-HM  ami 
order,  lit-  always  insisU'd  ilial  Ins  Ix-drooiii 
sli|)|Hrs  stand  on  tlic  s;inic  sjiot,  side  l»y  Hide, 
in  an  or(krly  manmr.  One  Rlanci-  inlo  Ins 
dosi  i  vvasi  noiiKli  lo  idl  Inin  wlii-lliur  anyoru- 
liad  loiitlud  his  iliinxs.  And  I  nuisl  admit 
tlial  I  was  aiiuiHfd  tven  ihoiinh  it  was  a 
sad  sort  of  ainustinnil  when,  recently, 
liMikinn  ;il  pholonraphs  thai  had  l)een  taken 
by  ncwspaiK-rinen  in  tiie  palace  at  Cairo,  he 
m-w  anury:  the  |)iclures  showed  Ins  Ix-d- 
rooin  and  his  workroom.  What  excited 
I-aroiik  most  of  all  was  not  so  much  the 
niamier  in  winch  they  had  tried  to  Ixlittle 
iiitn,  l)Ml  rather  the  fad  that  the  contents  of 
his  ck)sel  had  Ix-en  disiirranned, 

"Jiisl  k)()k  at  this  disorder  that  the  inuple 
have  made  m  my  ciiptxiards."  he  sjiid  hel|)- 
lessly.  and  I  could  see  how  his  Tinners  were 
almost  itchinn  lo  tidy  thiiiKS  there  once 
more.  Hut  it  was  of  course  a*vain  desire,  for 
what  he  was  kx)kinn  at  was  only  a  i)ho(,o- 
.t;ra|)h,  and  he  himself  was  livinn  in  e.xile. 

Il  is  my  conviction  that  what  pleased  him 
most  in  his  iiobby  of  coileclinn  and  he  col- 
lected everything  imaninable,  from  coins  to 
matchlxjxes  was  the  pleasure  he  had  when 
he  was  able  lo  order  these  objects  tidily  in 
cases  or  drawers. 

Farouk  was  busy  the  whole  day.  I  le  always 
rose  early  in  the  morning,  lonu  before  I  was 
awake,  and  il  made  no  difference  at  what 
lime  he  had  none  lo  bed  the  ni^lit  before.  So 
I  became  accustomed  to  sleepinK  late  in  the 
morninK.  so  as  lo  be  fresh  and  lively  when  I 
received  him  for  Ihe  noon  meal  and  always 
be  wide-awake  when  we  sal  together  in  the 
later,  quiel  hours. 

During  the  lirs!  month  of  our  marriage  he 
ordered  lhal  I  should  not  have  any  ollicial 
duties  lo  carry  out,  so  as  to  ^ive  me  lime  lo 
become  accustomed  to  my  new  life.  I  break- 
fasted late  and  spent  the  afterncwns  reading 
or  playini;  phonograph  records.  Sometimes  I 
painted  or  even  l(X)k  lessons  in  some  lan- 
guage. Sometimes  I  gave  small  parlies  to  my 
Court  ladies,  which  we  called  "practice 
enterlainmenls."  We  discussed  the  most  re- 
cent news  in  the  daily  papers,  talked  about 
books,  plays,  authors  or  various  world- 
famous  personalities,  so  that  we  should 
always  be  well  informed  about  current 
events. 

Thei^i;  was  a  cinema  in  every  palace  and 
we  could  always  see  pictures  a  full  week  be- 
fore they  were  presented  in  the  big  Cairo 
movie  houses.  The  programs  changed  three 
or  four  times  each  week,  and  when  His 
Majesty  himself  desired  to  see  a  lihn.  it  was 
presented  at  a  time  that  fitted  inlo  his  daily 
schedule.  Otherwise  the  performances  would 
begin  at  half  past  si.x  and  anyone  who  desired 
to  do  so  could  come. 

I  never  myself  went  marketing.  Il  was  un- 
necessary, for  whenever  I  wanted  something, 
either  my  ladies  in  wailing  or  my  maids 
would  see  to  it  that  a  choice  was  sent  to  the 
palace.  I  had  enough  dresses  and  robes.  My 
trousseau,  which  had  been  collected  for  me 
and  made  by  Germaine  Ic  Comte  in  Paris, 
consisted  of  at  least  a  dozen  of  every  sort  of 
garment:  taik)r-made  suits,  afternoon  frocks, 
cocktail  dresses,  house  dresses,  and  so  forth. 
I  had  forty  pairs  of  shoes  which  had  been 
made  to  my  measure  by  a  famous  French 
bootmaker.  That  is,  he  really  is  an  Italian 
named  Barlolesi,  but  he  lives  in  Paris  and 
works  only  for  royal  houses  and  stage  stars 
or  celebrities.  He  receives  about  sixty 
guineas  (about  $175)  a  pair.  Every  shoe  that 
came  from  his  hands  was  a  masterpiece, 
costly  and  elegant.  They  clasped  my  feet  as 
delicately  as  silk  stockings.  Besides.  I  had  in 
my  wardrobe  a  w'onderful  Indian  sari  of  pure 
spun  gold,  with  little  matching  sandals.  This 
had  been  the  wedding  gift  of  an  Indian 
maharaja. 

You  may  be  interested,  too,  lo  learn  that 
among  my  wedding  gifts  were  a  dozen  mink 
skins.  Stalin  had  sent  them  to  me  through  the 
Russian  embassy  in  Cairo.  My  husband, 


In  III.  |>r(>ii(l(\sl 

I  M  )  I  n  (  vs  it)  A  M  M  '  r  i  (  n 


1  lie  iiislanl  you  vt-  tlu-  lu-w  K<  iiKiihlx  r  (ilc  in  mok  s  t'wlay  \ou'll 
kii(»w  uliy  il  is  ilic  fiisl  llooiiii^;  (li<»i(c  lf*i  Aiflci ita  o  IiirnI  lioiiie%. 

I  ii%t,  sour  <•%«•  will  \>v  ai(i.iii(-(l  hv  tin  ^lo\vin(;,  iiiiiiot-ittiux>(li 
siiilaic  and  (lie  lidi  (laiity  ol  llic  tlllillill^  dicoialoi  (oloit.  Von 
won't  he  ahlc  lu  icsist  I('a(llin^  lot  oiu-  of  iIk^c  |H-iif((  lili-*, 
Von'll  l(»(»k  .It  il  lioni  lop  lo  Uoiioni.  You'll  st-v  how  every  <olor 
gfjfs  tile  <liT|>  and  (an'i  wear  oil.  No  Icit  or  oilu  r  hacLiud;  lirrc! 

And  yuiril  l)(  ,iiii.i/((l  when  yon  tr\  lo  l>en«l  KenKnhhrr.  Ii  tiai 
the  hiiilt  in  stK  nj-lh  fj|  a  lij^hlly  (oili-d  steel  spring!  Von  can  jrrl 
this  ii!(  will  k<  <  j)  its  ( iishioncd  ( oinlorl .  .  .  will  resist  indentation 
.  .  .  will  no)  l)('(oiii('  hard  or  hriltle  ihron^lioul  its  lon){  life! 

Visiiali/(  iliis  l)(  aiitiliil  ik  \v  (Irioi  inj^  in  your  own  home.  Imagine 
yoin  own  desij^n  in  any  ol  Ken Rnhljet 's  losely  new  (olots  liij^h- 
hf^liKil  wiili  (■\<jiisiv<-  'riicnie  I  ilc  inserts  or  F(.ilinc  Snip  atui, 
K(  uKiiIjI)!  1  IK  \(  i  loses  its  lieshh  j>olislied  look. 

No  \voii(l(  I  those  .\iii(  I  i(  ails  who  an  prrtndesi  r>f  their  lupines 
insist  (jii  KciiUnhher.  .See  it  at  \oiir  Keniilc  Dealer  whose  name 
a))|j<  ais  under  i  i.(kjrs  in  )onr  (Jassilied  Phone  Jiiicfiorv. 

KENTILE  INC  .  58  SECON  D  A  VEN  U  E.  BROOKLYN  IS  u  ' 
KENTILE    •    KENCORK    •    KENRUBBER    •  KENFUEX 


Ken  Rubber  colors  shown:  Rosso  Di  Lesanto  with  White  Feature  S:r:p 


It's  economical  to  install  your  own 
KciiRul)l)er  Floor.  lis  so  eas\  and 
quick  to  do.  .See  )our  kentile  Dealer 
and  choose  your  favorite  colors.  He 
will  give  you  free  easy-to-follow  in- 
struction sheet.  \  ou  will  be  surprised 
at  the  low  cost  of  tlic  beautiful  Ken- 
Rubber  tiles. 

©  1953  Kenlile,  Inc. 


kenRubber 

TILE  FLOORS 


TtAOE  MASK 


for  Cushioned  Beauty 


104  L   A    D    1    E    S  •       HO    M    F.       J    O    U    R    N    A  T, 


April,  m:i 


How  you,  too,  can 


Look  lovelier 


in  ID  days 


(yaiowL 
yvicrmJiboick! 


Doctor's  new  beauty  care  helps 
your  skin  look  fresher,  lovelier 
—and  helps  keep  it  that  way! 

If  you  aren't  entirely  satisfied  with  your 
complexion  —  here's  the  biggest  beauty 
news  in  years!  A  famous  doctor  has  de- 
veloped a  wonderful  new  home  beauty 
routine. 

Different!  This  sensible  beauty  care 
owes  its  amazing  effectiveness  to  the 
unique  qualities  of  Noxzema.  This  fa- 
mous grmseless,  medicated  beauty  cream 
combines  softening,  soothing,  healing 
and  cleansing  ingredients. 

Results  are  thrilling ! 

Letters  from  women  all  over  America 
praise  Noxzema's  quick  help  for  rough, 
dry  skin;  extfernally- 
caused  blemishes. 

Like  to  help  your 
problem  skin  look  love- 
lier? Then  try  this: 

1.  Cleanse  thoroughly 

by  'cream-washing'  with 
Noxzema  and  water.  Ap- 
ply Noxzema,  then  wring 
out  a  cloth  in  warm  water 
and  wash  your  face  as  if 
using  soap.  See  how  fresh 
your  skin  looks  the  very 
first  time  you 'cream-wash 

with  Noxzema  —  not  dry,  or  drawn!  | 

2.  Night  cream.  Smooth  on  Noxzema  so 
that  its  softening,  soothing  ingredients  can 


help  your  skin  look  smoother.  lovelier.  Al- 
ways pat  a  bit  extra  over  any  blemishes*  to 
help  heal  them— fast!  You  will  see  a  wonder- 
ful improvement  as  you  go  on  i'aitlifullv  using 
No.xzema.  It's  greaseless.  No  .smeary  pillow! 

3.  Make-up  base.  'Cream-wash'  again  in 
the  morning,  then  apply  Noxzema  as  your 
long-lasting  powder  \n\se.  ■'.■r.vti'i  intHij-cniisvd 


2.  Night 
cream 


3.  Make-up 
base 


Noxzema  works  or  money  back! 

In  cHnical  tests,  it  helped  4  out  of  o 
women  with  di.seouraging  skin  prob- 
lems. Try  Noxzema  for  10  days.  If  not 
delighted,  return  the  jar  to  Noxzema, 
Bahimore.  Your  money  back! 

Look  lovelier  offer! 

40<  NOXZEMA 


only 


plus 
tax 


at  drug,  cosmetic  counters. 
Limited  time  only! 


King  Farouk,  was  no  friend  of  Stalin,  nor  was 
he  a  friend  of  the  Russian  embassy,  and  he 
repeatedly  entreated  the  British  not  to  com- 
pel him  to  receive  Russian  diplomats  in 
Egypt.  But,  after  all,  there  they  were  and  it 
became  necessary  for  them,  too,  to  send  me  a 
wedding  present.  The  pells  had  not  been 
treated  at  all;  they  were  just  a  bundle  of 
mink  skins,  such  as  might  lie  around  in  any 
furrier's  shop.  Of  course  they  were  valuable, 
but  with  the  best  will  in  the  world  f  had  not 
the  slightest  idea  what  I  should  do  with 
them.  I  had  them  put  into  a  cool  storage 
room  and  have  no  idea  what  has  become  of 
them  now.  Some  of  our  wedding  gifts  were  so 
valuable  that  Farouk  thought  the  Museum 
of  Cairo  was  the  only  place  worthy  of  keep- 
ing them. 

My  maid,  Violet,  is  a  jewel.  When  I  ac- 
companied my  husband  into  exile,  she  came 
with  me.  althoogh  she  had  to  leave  her  hus- 
band back  in  Cairo.  They  exchange  lengthy 
telegrams  very  day,  but  until  now  she  has 
remained  with  me. 

Violet  went  to  school  with  Frieda,  the  per- 
sonal maid  of  the  Begum  Aga  Khan.  When 
they  were  both  young  girls  they  had  made  a 
jvager,  for  fun,  which  of  them  would  lead  the 
more  adventurous  life.  Violet  went  to  a 
models'  school  in  Switzerland  and  passed  her 
examination  in  Lausanne  with  the  highest 
marks.  She  determined  to  travel  through  the 
world  as  a  style  consultant.  Her  friend, 
Frieda,  decided  to  get  to  know  the  great 
houses  of  this  world  as  a  maid.  Finally  Violet 
found  herself  back  in  Cairo,  where  she  had 
married  the  chief  receptionist  of  the  Hotel 
Semiramis.  a  very  nice  Sudanese  who  speaks 
eight  languages  faultlessly.  When  the  Begum 
Aga  Khan  learned  that  I  was  looking  for  a 
maid  and  companion,  she  asked  Frieda 
whether  she  knew  of  someone,  and  then 
Frieda  remembered  her  old  school  friend, 
Violet,  in  Cairo. 

\  lOLET  needs  hardly  any  directions  to 
carry  out  her  duties  as  maid:  she  guesses  my 
wishes  almost  before  I  utter  them.  She  helps 
me  bathe  and  dress,  does  my  hair  and  even 
goes  so  far  that  she  unscrews  the  top  of  my 
tooth-paste  tube  and  of  my  lipstick.  Once  I 
even  had  to  tell  her  that  if  she  went  on  like 
that  she  would  teach  me  not  to  make  any  use 
of  my  hands. 

She  knows  exactly  where  to  buy  things, 
she  knows  the  names  and  addresses  of  the 
best  clothes  shops  and  beauty  parlors  in 
every  city. 

My  other  maid.  Mary,  was  Yugoslav.  She 
was  of  almost  exactly  the  same  build  as  I, 
so  that  not  only  had  I  the  pleasure  of  leaving 
her  clothes  I  had  worn,  but  she  had  been  able 
to  stand  in  as  a  model  for  me.  Violet  and 
Mary  are  very  different  in  their  appearance 
and  conduct.  Violet  is  big  and  dark,  with  a 
wide  smile  and  eyebrows  drawn  high  in  a 
dramatic  arch,  whereas  Mary  is  blond  and 
rather  lively.  But  I  did  not  discover  Mary 
until  we  were  back  in  Egypt  after  our  honey- 
moon. Until  then  Carmen,  an  Italian  girl 
with  beautiful  dark  eyes,  was  my  second 
maid. 

In  my  new  life,  as  Queen  of  Egypt,  I  never 
lost  contact  with  my  family.  My  mother 
came  to  the  palace  almost  every  afternoon  for 
tea,  or  else,  in  my  own  black  Cadillac,  I  drove 
out  to  Heliopolis  to  visit  in  the  house  of  my 
parents.  (The  red  cars  are  used  only  for 
official  trips.  They  belong  to  the  State  of 
Egypt.)  Sometimes  my  cousins,  too,  came 
to  visit  me  in  the  palace.  I  was  always  in  the 
company  of  at  least  one  of  my  official  ladies 
in  waiting.  Those  who  were  with  me  the  most 
frequently  were  Fatma  Abul  Eiz,  the  wife  of 
an  Egyptian  army  officer;  Aziza  Elmie.  one 
of  my  cousins;  and  Azizi  Zaki,  the  widow  of 
Zaki  Bey. 

The  only  real  duty  I  had  during  this 
period,  aside  from  becoming  accustomed  to 
the  new  life  in  the  palace,  was  to  set  up  the 
daily  bill  of  fare  for  my  husband.  This  was 
not  a  difficult  task,  for  I  had  already  taken 
the  trouble  to  find  out  which  dishes  he  liked 
and  which  he  did  not  like,  and,  of  course, 
what  his  favorites  were.  It  often  surprises  me 
how  little  wives  bother  about  such  things,  for 
nothing  establishes  a  pleasant  mood  in  a  hus- 
band more  than  to  discover  that  his  wife 


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I     ^    l>    I     I      >  II  II 

lakes  IhouKlil  of  Iiih  Wfll-f»tiiu{.  The  »uk- 
Kc-stions  for  trie  iiicnii  wtri-  pn-hi-riUiJ  to  mi- 
lacli  day  hlioiily  ;,[ur"|  had  ariM-n,  and  if  in 
soiiif  cas.  s  I  was  not  tt-rtam  of  ihi-  toiit.-iith 
of  a  a  rlam  (IjhIi,  ihi-ii  tlit-  ht  ad  i  hi  f  cam.-  to 
and  cxplainc-d  the  diHh  to  nu-  in  detail 
and  how  It  was  to  Ix-  prt-iKiri-d  If  I  Htill  had 
(loiihts,  Hu  ll  all  I  had  to  do  was  a^k  oiu-  <.f 
the  Ixwiy  servants  of  my  hiistwnd.  who  had 
Ixtii  in  his  employ  from  the  tune  of  hiH 
youth.  Anything  wliith  neither  I  nor  the 
iliel  knew  was  sine  lo  Im-  known  hy  old  Ab- 
doii  Mohammed.  During  the  enure  firnt 
monih  of  my  dmics  as  lioum-wife  in  the  pal- 
ai'e.  my  husband  difl  not  so  far  as  I  can  re- 
memlH  T  one  single  lime  omit  a  course  from 
a  iiu  al  Ixvause  Ur  failed  to  like  the  dish. 

I  could  Moi  iiiu^;ine  a  more  wonderful 
honeymoon  than  the  one  my  husband  nave 
me.  It  must  surely  Ix-  the  dream  of  every 
bride  lo  s|)end  her  honeymoon  u|)on  a  Ix-auti- 
lul  while  yacht  in  the  Nh'diterraiU'an.  with 
a  husband  who  nreeled  her  every  wakinn  day 
with  Mowers  or  other  «ifts.  and  made  each 
meal  a  nay  and  happy  party. 

II  seemed  thai  what  the  newspapers 
wanted  lo  know  was  how  mudi  our  honey- 
moon cost.  That  is  a  strange  ihinn  to  ask. 
Why  should  my  husband  have  to  submit  a 
staloment  to  liie  world,  showinu  how  much 
he  spent  u|X)n  his  honeym(x)n?  He  certainly 
did  not  spend  mori'  than  he  could  afford,  atu 
il  was  not  just  a  honeym(X)n  for  two,  since 
he  had  to  lake  wilh  him  alx)ul  forty  ollicials. 
who  represented  various  de|)artmcnls  of 
stale  and  government  with  whom  the  Kinn 
had  lo  keep  in  touch,  even  on  his  honey- 
m(X)n. 

So  that  whenever  we  t(x)k  r(X)ms  in  a 
hotel,  il  was  not  just  our  own  suite,  and  pcr- 


Even  the  smaliost  thing  deserves  Its 
honor;  the  needle  maintains  the 
tailor. 


haps  another  two  rooms  for  our  personal 
servants,  but  sometimes  almost  an  entire 
floor  had  to  be  taken  for  the  state  oflicials 
who  accompanied  him.  The  Middle  East 
would  think  nothing  of  a  ruling  monarch  who 
walked  abroad  alone,  and  even  foreign  am- 
bassadors in  Egypt  bring  six  personal  aides 
with  them  as  a  sign  of  their  importance  when 
they  call  upwn  us  at  the  palace. 

If  you  can  imagine  taking  forty  people 
with  you  on  your  honeymoon,  you  might 
also  be  able  to  imagine  what  your  hotel  bills 
would  be  like! 

But  whatever  it  cost  — and  I  never  made  it 
my  business  to  inquire  — I  believe  that  it  was 
worth  every  piaster,  for  it  was  two  months 
of  unforgettable,  exciting  enchantment.  My 
husband  Farouk  had  been  working  very 
hard  for  many  months  before,  and  he  was 
determined  to  find  some  time  for  happiness 
wilh  me. 

It  was  only  his  second  holiday  since  he  had 
ascended  the  throne  of  Egypt  as  a  boy  of 
sixteen,  and  to  me  it  was  like  a  lovely  golden 
harvest  of  rew-ard  for  my  own  months  of  hard 
and  anxious  study  in  Rome,  learning  my 
duties  as  a  queen. 

When  we  decided  to  go  on  the  honeymoon 
journey,  I  implored  him  not  to  make  the  trip 
solely  for  my  sake,  as  I  would  have  been 
quite  happy  to  wait  until  affairs  were  more 
settled  in  our  country.  He  was  in  one  of  his 
gentlest  and  quietest  moods  that  night,  and 
I  remember  that  he  stroked  my  hair  with  a 
smile  in  his  eyes,  although  his  face'was  quite 
serious,  as  he  told  me,  "Clierie.  you  may 
know  that  my  first  marriage  came  lo  disaster 
because  I  put  state  duties  before  my  Queen, 
and  believe  me  it  shall  not  happen  again. 
There  must  be  room  in  a  man's  life  for  both 
his  work  and  his  family,  surely?" 

We  sailed  out  of  Alexandria  Harbor  in 
calm  June  weather  on  the  Fakhr  el  Bihar, 
which  means  "Pride  of  the  Seas."  This  is  the 
smaller  of  the  two  royal  yachts  of  Egypt,  but 
it  is  my  husband's  favorite,  and  much  more 
delicate  and  beautiful  in  line  than  the 


M  I 


i    II  I 


\  I. 


The  only  tissue  that 
meet^  you  halfway 


Soft! 
Strong  1 
Tops  Up! 


Have  vou  discovered  the  wonderful  diflFerence  between  soft, 

strong  Kleenex*  and  all  other  tissues?  Because  of  its 
Serv-a-Tissue  box,  only  Kleenex  meets  you  halfway— serves  one  at  a  time. 
Ends  waste,  saves  mone) ,  And  now  you  can  have  Kleenex  tissues  at  the  lowest 
everyday  prices  in  years.  Yet  its  higher  quality,  year  after  year,  makes  today's 
Kleenex  the  finest  you've  kno^vn  .  .  .  just  perfect  for 
colds,  for  beautv  duty;  dozens  of  uses  around  the  house! 


Save  with  Kleenex 


at  new,  low  prices 


T.  M    REO    U    S    PAT.  OFF. 


106 


1.    \    I)    I    K    S  '       II    O    M    E       .1    ()    U    l{    N    A  I, 


April,  J 953 


Modern  americana- 

at  home  in  ranch  house  and  penthouse.  Bake  in  it 
with  safety  — serve  \r\  it  with  style.  You  can  buy  a 

starter  set  for  ^10.95  In  Harvest  Brown 

(illustrated),  Winter  Green,  Summer  Tan. 

Franciscan  Ware  by  Gladding,  McBean  8.  Co.,  Los  Angeles,  California.  iH 


Mahroussa,  which  was  built  in  his  grand- 
father's reign  and  was  once  a  paddle  steamer. 

The  Mahroussa  is  almost  like  a  floating 
palace,  but  the  Fakhr  el  Bihar  is  a  sleek  ship 
that  moves  into  the  waves  and  lets  you  feel 
that  you  are  on  the  ocean.  Farouk  gave  me  a 
mischievous  smile  as  I  stood  holding  the  deck 
rail  and  watching  the  sun  twinkle  upon  the 
blue  Mediterranean.  "Do  you  think  you're 
going  to  be  seasick?"  he  teased,  and  I  said: 

"What  would  you  do  if  I  were?" 

"Put  you  over  the  side  and  let  you  walk," 
he  said  promptly,  and  took  my  arm  and  led 
me  up  to  the  control  bridge,  where  he  some- 
times liked  to  take  a  turn  at  the  wheel. 

I  WAS  not  sick;  indeed,  I  discovered  that  I 
am  an  exceptionally  good  sailor,  and  this 
pleased  my  husband  very  much.  He  has  a 
great  love  of  the  sea  and  all  matters  to  do 
with  ships.  He  can  send  and  receive  Morse 
code,  and  sometimes  in  the  night  when  bored 
ships'  radio  operators  talk  idly  to  each  other 
across  the  miles,  he  has  been  known  to  take 
the  earphones  and  the  Morse  key  and  join 
in,  and  there  must  be  many  a  radio  operator 
who  will  never  know  that  he  had  discussions 
about  life  with  the  King  of  Egypt ! 

I  had  been  on  the  island  of  Capri  for  a 
brief  while,  and  was  very  anxious  to  spend 
more  time  there.  When  I  told  my  husband 
this,  he  at  once  ordered  Captain  Hamdy  to 
make  for  Capri  and  it  was,  I  think,  just 
breakfasttime  on  the  third  day  when  the 
lookout  reported  it  in  view  on  the  morning 
sky  line. 

We  all  went  up  on  deck  to  watch  the  island 
come  closer,  and  I  can  remember  the  happy 
excitement  of  feeling  that 
our  holiday  had  really  be- 
gun. It  looked  a  tiny 
hunchbacked  island  in  the 
morning  haze  with  miles 
of  blue  sea  between  us,  but 
as  we  came  closer— with 
two  giay  warships  of  the 
Egyptian  fleet  escorting  us 
in  what  I  had  called  "In- 
dian file  "  until  I  was  scornfully  told  that  the 
correct  nautical  expression  was  "in  line 
astern" — one  could  gradually  see  the  villas 
clmging  to  the  rocky  slopes,  like  white  and 
pink  sea  birds. 

We  made  a  complete  circle  of  the  island— 
"The  easiest  way  to  be  a  tourist,  it  saves  a 
lot  of  sore  feet  and  taxi  fares,"  my  husband 
laughed— and  then  anchored  outside  the 
Marina  Grande  Harbor,  which  was  already 
alive  with  fishing  boats  and  white,  immacu- 
late sailing  yachts  and  sight-seers  who  had 
come  to  watch  us  disembark. 

My  ladies  in  waiting  and  I  were  all  dressed 
alike,  in  blue  naval  blazers,  gray  skirts  and 
white,  peaked  yachting  caps.  There  were 
open  cars  waiting  for  us.  They  went  slowly, 
honking  at  each  corner,  up  the  narrow  wind- 
ing road  that  had  once  been  made  for  don- 
keys, and  which  goes  up  a  hillside  that  looks 
unscalable  when  one  views  it  from  a  distance 
at  sea.  Capri  is  a  quaint  and  fascinating 
island,  with  its  little  horse-drawn  carriages, 
each  with  gaily  colored  sunshades  and  plumed 
horses,  and  every  villa  adorned  with  purple 
creepers,  bougainvillaea,  jacaranda,  hibiscus 
and  grape  blossom. 

We  stayed  at  a  hotel  right  on  the  tip  of  the 
Anacapri  hill.  It  seemed  to  be  perched  on  the 
very  edge  of  the  sheer  cliffside,  with  a  drop 
straight  down  to  the  vivid  blue  sea  under- 
neath. It  was  soothing  to  watch  the  little 
beetlelike  rowboats  stirring  placidly  between 
the  foam-encircled  rocks,  so  far  below. 

On  the  winding  road  up  to  the  hotel  I  had 
glimpsed  our  white  yacht  at  anchor,  and  it 
seemed  so  beautiful  that  I  asked  my  husband, 
"Why  must  we  sleep  at  a  hotel  tonight? 
Why  not  stay  on  board  the  yacht,  and  listen 
to  the  sea  close  to  us?" 

He  told  me  that  the  Italian  security  police 
had  asked  that  if  possible  we  should  spend 
only  occasional  nights  on  the  yacht  while  it 
was  anchored  offshore,  for  fear  some  Commu- 
nist fanatic  might  attempt  to  sink  us.  He  told 
me  this  quite  calmly,  and  to  him  it  was  no 
more  than  an  incident  in  his  daily  life.  But 
to  me,  for  a  moment,  it  made  the  sunshine 
feel  cold,  when  I  remembered  that  although 
we  were  on  our  honeymoon  we  could  never 


wherever  we  went  or  whatever  we  did,  escape 
from  the  responsibilities  of  being  a  king  and 
queen  of  a  politically  disturbed  country. 
People  hated  us  who  had  never  met  us.  never 
known  us,  and  Communists  who  wanted  not 
love,  but  power,  were  probably  already  whis- 
pering in  the  bazaars  of  Egypt  that  the  King 
and  Queen  were  spending  for  a  honeymoon 
money  that  might  have  been  used  to  buy 
bread  for  the  poor. 

Had  our  honeymoon  cost  three  hundred 
thousand  dollars,  this  would  have  been  only 
half  a  piaster  each  for  the  population  of 
Egypt.  And  this,  indeed,  was  exactly  how 
much  they  paid  the  royal  family  of  Egypt: 
one  half  a  piaster  per  head  of  population— 
the  cost  of  one  cigarette — per  year ! 

Yet  it  was  enough  to  start  the  weapons  of 
hatred  and  reviling. 

But  we  tried  to  forget  this  as  much  as  we 
could.  And  our  days  on  Capri  were  often  very 
peaceful  and  happy.  The  hotel  had  a  terrace 
that  overlooked  the  ocean  below,  and  here  in 
the  evenings  there  were  music  and  dancing, 
and  in  the  daytime  we  spent  many  hours  at 
the  seaside  restaurant  that  belonged  to  the 
English  singer,  Miss  Gracie  Fields,  who  calls 
her  place  Canzone  del  Mare  (The  Song  of  the 
Sea). 

She  kindly  put  at  our  disposal  one  of  her 
very  nice  guest-apartments  that  overlooks 
the  restaurant  and  swimming  pool  and  has  a 
terrace  with  tables  and  big  colored  umbrellas. 
Her  private  beach  could  be  reached  by  steps 
along  the  rocks  from  the  little  cabana,  and  it 
was  here  that  I  swam  in  the  sea  for  the  first 
time  with  my  husband.  I  had  a  cloth-of-gold 
swimming  suit  and  a  white  cap,  and  he  just 
wore  any  old  woolen  swim 
suit  he  picked  up,  as  he 
always  does,  and  we  put 
on  fish-hunters'  masks 
and  together  watched 
the  many-colored  fishes 
that  swam  into  and  out 
of  the  great  green  rock 
caverns  beneath  the  sur- 
face of  the  sea. 
There  was  one  afternoon  when  Farouk  was 
in  the  little  motor  launch,  and  saw  a  big 
snapping  turtle  just  submerging.  At  once  he 
dived  overboard  and  managed  to  grasp  the 
turtle  by  its  hind  flippers  and,  helped  by  the 
crew,  wrestled  it  aboard  the  launch.  It  stood 
almost  as  tall  as  I  did— certainly  it  was  up 
to  my  shoulder— and  when  it  was  out  of  the 
water,  two  ordinary  men  could  hardly  lift  it. 
A  bite  from  its  beak  might  have  severed  an 
arm.  The  King  was  very  proud  of  it,  and  had 
it  photographed  after  it  was  killed,  with  him- 
self holding  it  up  casually  by  the  tail. 

People  who  call  my  husband  flabby  should 
just  see  him  carrying  two  big,  sand-filled 
ship's  fenders  in  one  hand ! 

In  the  evenings  we  used  to  dine  at  Gracie 
Fields'  restaurant,  and  listen  to  the  lively 
little  orchestra  and  watch  the  dancers  crowd- 
ing onto  the  tiny  dance  floor  that,  like  her 
swimming  pool,  was  shaped  to  match  the  out- 
line of  Capri  itself.  Sometimes  my  husband 
and  I  would  dance  together,  but  it  was  always 
rather  difficult,  because  when  we  did  this  on 
a  crowded  dance  floor  everyone  paid  more 
heed  to  us  than  to  the  music. 

jMostly,  we  sat  and  watched  the  dancers, 
and  discussed  their  strange  appearance. 
Capri  fashions  are  very  startling.  Some 
women  wore  conventional  evening  gowns, 
either  full-length  or  ankle-length,  but  it  was 
apparently  just  as  acceptable  to  appear  in 
very  tight  black  trousers  or  American  blue 
jeans,  topped  perhaps  by  an  elaborate,  off- 
the-shouider  blouse.  The  fashion  that  year 
was  for  tight  black  breeches  that  ended  just 
below  the  knee  in  a  buckle  or  a  big  bow,  but 
my  husband  would  of  course  never  permit  me 
to  wear  them.  And  I  must  say  that,  although 
I  pretended  to  protest,  I  privately  agreed 
with  him! 

Gracie  Fields  soon  became  our  good  friend, 
and  would  often  come  down  from  her  villa  to 
have  dinner  with  her  own  guests  in  the  res- 
taurant, and  we  were  pleased  when  she 
could  be  persuaded  to  sing.  She  did  this 
always  from  her  table,  just  raising  her  face 
and  filling  the  restaurant  with  her  beautiful 
(Conlinued  on  Page  109) 


^  WW  Hpf        HP  flBi 

The  great  use  of  life  is  to 
spend  it  for  something 
which  outlasts  it. 

WILLIAM  JAMES 

VI M  M  ft  . 


I.  \  I*  I  I 


II   'I   \l  I 


I   1 1 


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\  II   I  I 


\  I. 


(Conliniinl  Iniin  I'anf  lOO) 

nee.  Si)  clear  thai  il  was  nol  (lirnnied  even 
/  the  sea  thai  roared  aKainsl  ilie  rocks 
jarby.  My  liusband  asked  lur  to  smu  a  sonn 
illed  Sally  lor  liini.  Tins  was  a  luiie  i)layed 
ri  a  music  box  I  hat  had  been  one  of  his 
easures  since  lioyliood.  I  was  si  ill  busily 
•ariiinn  Knulisli  thai  year,  and  was  nol  able 
illy  to  understand  the  sonn.  bul  her  voice 
.'cnied  lo  tannle  one's  eniolions,  so  lliai  I 
/as  uncertain  wlu'llier  lo  lauuli  or  to  weep, 
'hey  were  sweel  inonienls  when  she  sann  to 
s,  and  we  could  feel  tlial  for  a  little  while 
he  crowd  was  paying  attention  to  her  and 
,ot  to  us,  and  then  my  husband  would 
lis  bin  li:"ifl  over  mine,  with  a  jjreat  warmth 
•i  affection,  and  our  eyes  met  and  spoke 
enlly  to  each  other. 

Our  honeymoon  coiilmucd  in  bcMiililul 
unsiiine  from  Capri  lo  that  (illui  magical 
laliaii  island  called  Ischia,  and  then  akmn 
lie  Italian  Riviera  to  Porlolino,  Rapalloaiid 
iaii  Uemo  and  then  to  Switzerland. 

V  luisbaiul  and  1  are  both  ])ai  I H  iil.iily 
oiul  of  Swil/erland,  and  I  Uiink  there  was 
uudly  a  nu'iiiber  of  the  lar^e  Swiss  cok)ny 
II  Knypt  whom  Karouk  did  not  know  by 
lame.  We  had  intended  to  slay  about  three 
veeks  in  Lugano  and  had  chosen  a  hotel 
vheie,  by  pullinu  up  a  simple  partilion  in 
he  corridor,  we  could  have  our  jirivate  suite 
ul  off  from  everybody  else's  even  from  our 
iwn  entoura.ue  and  have  three  precious 
leeks  of  comparative  peace  and  solitude. 

But  an  unpleasant  incident  occurred,  and 
w  moved  out  of  Lugano  the  following  day. 
Carlier  on  our  honeymoon,  while  we  were 
till  at  Capri,  p-arouk  had  received  news 
rom  his  Intelligence  Service  that  Zionists 
nd  Communists  were  offering  large  sums  of 
loney  for  any  photograph  that  might  show 
le.  the  Queen  of  Egypt,  wearing  shorts, 
lacks  or  a  swim  suit;  and  particularly 
iliotographs  of  Farouk  that  might  look  as  if 
e  were  taking  alcoholic  drinks,  although  of 
ourse  he  never  does— but  it  is  amazing  how 
ften  a  bottle  of  Vichy  water  in  an  ice  bucket 
n  his  restaurant  table  is  gleefully  described 
s  "champagne." 

On  Capri  the  newspaper  photographers 
ad  been  so  keen  to  get  photographs  of  me 
(■earing  a  swim  suit  that  they  hid  themselves 
nder  a  heap  of  nets  in  a  hsherman's  boat  so 
liat  they  could  sneak  close  up  to  the  private 
.'tty  at  Gracie  Fields'  villa,  where  my  hus- 
and  and  I  were  bathing. 

The  photograph  they  actually  succeeded 
1  obtaining  was  of  one  of  my  ladies  in  wait- 
ig,  but  apparently  they  felt  that  this  was 
ear  enough  lo  the  real  thing  lo  satisfy  them, 
)r  it  was  promptly  published  as  me ! 

And  when  we  reached  Lugano,  an  incident 
'as  arranged— presumably  by  bribing  a 


liotel  waiter  (j|  -loiiu  txKjy  who  could  kiv<  n. 
slruclioHH  lo  the  waiter,  for  an  we  mil  at 
table  a  waiter  came  up  and  placed  a  larm- 
whisky  tx.iil,-  II,  |„,„|  „(  Farouk,  and  a 
pholoKiapher  who  had  tx-eii  wail  inn  (or  tliai 
moment  laine  oul  of  concealment  and  lo«>k 
a  |)hotoKrapli.  lie  Hucceeded  in  encapinti,  for 
the  kjcal  Swms  ixilice  Kuardn  were  afraid  to 
arrest  him,  as  they  did  not  underHtancI  the 
simiilicance  of  what  had  liapix  ned, 

Farouk  was  very  worried.  "We  inuni  mop 
hini,"  he  mud,  "or  within  a  lew  dayn  that 
photograph  will  he  circulated  all  over  the 
Middle  Fast."  lie  asked  the  lo»al  imlice 
duel  to  lake  action,  bul  he,  lorn  could  not  at 
(irst  understand  the  iiii|)orlaiue  of  the  alfair, 
and  by  the  time  he  did,  \Uc  phoioKraiiher  ha<l 
disapiHared. 

We  left  Lugano  at  once.  Hut  by  Ihin  time 
the  harm  had  Ihcd  done,  and  the  pliotogra|)h 
was  In  ing  punted  in  Zionist  pa|x  rs  for  circu- 
lation in  ligy|)i  as:  "Farouk,  who  of  courv 
owns  several  distilleries,  is  here  s«'en  s;impling 
his  product  on  his  honeymoon." 

U  hen  Farouk  saw  this  he  stared  at  it  for  a 
few  iiK  ments,  then  shrugged  his  big  shoul- 
ders, and  snuled  at  me.  "Well,  we  mustn't 
let  it  sixiil  our  lu.liday,"  he  sjiid.  "Once  the 
damage  has  Ix'en  done,  it's  no  use  sulking 
about  it,  cliirit'." 

We  stayed  in  Cannes  at  the  Carlton  Hotel, 
and  Farouk  was  very  an.xious  to  lake  me 
across  to  Monle  Cark),  for  he  is  a  very  good 
friend  of  the  Prince  of  Monaco,  and  at  this 
lime  there  was  some  siKcial  gala  |H.-rform- 
ance  at  the  0|XTa  House,  as  well  as  the 
attraction  of  the  Casino  where  my  husband 
enjoys  his  game  of  baccarat. 

I  cannot  understand  why  there  should  be 
so  much  fuss  about  my  liusband 's  card  play- 
ing. I  have  never  felt  it  was  any  of  my  busi- 
ness to  have  any  opinion  about  my  husband's 
card  playing,  but  I  do  feel  that  it  would  Ix'  in- 
sufferably snobbish  for  a  rich  man  to  play  for 
slakes  that  he  could  afford  to  lose  without 
another  thought,  against  men  to  whom,  say, 
five  hundred  dollars  meant  a  very  great  deal. 
Rich  men  should  play  with  rich  men.  and  my 
husband  did. 

Besides,  Farouk  and  I  had  a  special  game 
of  our  own.  We  both  knew  that  he  could 
afford  to  buy  me  expensive  gifts,  and  the 
very  fact  of  our  knowing  this  took  away 
much  of  the  pleasure  from  such  gifts,  so  that 
it  was  much  more  frequent  for  him  to  please 
me  with  a  basket  of  fk)wers  or  a  box  of  can- 
dies, or  some  little  charm  for  my  favorite 
bracelet.  But  very  often,  when  I  had  seen 
something  beautiful  bul  expensive,  Farouk 
would  say.  laughingly,  "I  will  go  lo  the 
Casino  tonight  and  try  lo  win  it  for  you!" 

If  he  did  win  enough  money,  we  went  to- 
gether next  day.  very  pleased  with  ourselves, 
to  buy  the  gift,  feeling  that  it  was  not  merely 


"I'M  VP!  I'M  up:  I'm  up,  I'm  up,  I'm  up.' 


■I  matter  ill  wi  II  iiu:  ,i  i  lirck.  I>  '  ' '      '  •  '  id 
won  II  lor  nie  with  lui  iikill  I 
that  lictxtUKht  lor  iiic  my  K''''!        i<i.i  .n  .m 
vanity  Uik.  and  a  fanioui  diaiiKHKl,  utui  a 
plalinuni-niink  hir  ca|je. 

Farouk  In  an  exitrmely  kixmI  card  player, 
an  anyUxly  who  hail  playetl  t  i  '  !l 
readily  arlmit  And  lie  wiii 
than  III- loM-H  But  ol  cfMirM- 1 1  '  : '  i.'  .1.  .  ; , 
plenty  ol  M'll-im|V)itatit  iiu-n  who  like  to 
IxiaMi  that  they  "won  nif  '  •  l  i  d  and  lidy 
lliouiuind  dollarit  from  I  card*  la«t 

niKlit,"  whetluT  It  Id  tfij. 

Our  lioneyiniMin  wan  noi  all  holuL'iy,  for  at 
kahl  twice  a  week  one  ol  l  arouk'*  private 
jilanes  either  the  one  thai  I'rmidrni  HiKmc- 
veil  gave  hini,  or  Iiih  Dakota  would  come 
from  Kgypt  with  the  maillNiKK,  and  I  could 
he  mire  that  for  the  next  twenty-four  lujurn 
at  leaHt  I  wmild  see  nothing  of  Inm  lie  div 
apiK-ared  into  Iiih  slurly  on  board  the  yacht 
and  ke|)t  the  radiotelephone  buHy,  either  to 
Cairo  or  to  his  embassiiit  in  the  Furo|M.'an 
ca|)itals. 

I  usid  to  almost  dread  the  sixhl  (A  that 
plane  as  it  came  out  of  the  blue  Humnier  sky. 
and  I  was  s<x)n  able  to  tell  a  Ihikota  or  a  CS-i 
from  the  other  planes  that  came  and  went  in 
the  Mediterranean,  for  I  knew  that  our  plane 
meant  a  day  of  loneliness  for  me,  away  from 
him. 

Just  txfore  we  were  due  lo  go  lo  Monle 
Carlo  together,  I  awoke  feeling  rather  un- 
well and  was  unable  to  accomjjany  my  hus- 
band. It  was  the  txginning  of  the  sickness 
that  comes  when  one  is  going  lo  have  a  b;iby. 

When  I  told  Farouk.  his  solicitude  for  me 
was  overwhelming.  He  sent  to  Cairo  at  onci 
for  Sister  Iris,  the  nurse  who  had  attended 
me  through  my  apjxndicilis  oix-ration.  She 
was  British,  born  in  Cypress,  and  had  a 
diploma  from  the  Royal  College  of  Nursing. 
.Mlhough  she  was  quite  young  and  petite,  she 
had  always  given  me  a  sensation  of  great  com- 
fort and  confidence,  by  her  capable  presence. 

She  came  to  Cannes  at  once  and  put  me 
upon  a  strict  diet  of  endless  salads  and  vita- 
min pills  and  injections  every  day.  of  either 
calcium,  phosphates  or  vitamin  B.  Each  day 
after  my  bath  she  gave  my  legs  a  careful, 
scientific  massage  so  that  they  would  nol  lose 
their  shape. 

Also  we  had  the  ship's  doctor,  who  was  a 
good  friend  of  the  King.  But  Farouk  could 
hardly  wait  to  get  me  back  lo  Egypt,  and 
would  nol  allow  me  even  lo  make  the  journey 
upon  the  yachl,  for  fear  the  rough  seas  might 
upset  me. 

E  returned  on  an  Egyptian  passenger 
vessel,  the  Maiek  Fuad.  which  in  that  smooth 
summer  sea  was  as  steady  as  a  railway  train; 
bul  even  so,  Farouk  would  come  and  peep 
into  my  cabin  once  or  twice  during  the 
night,  to  see  that  I  was  sleeping  soundly,  and 
in  need  of  nothing,  neither  medicines  nor 
comfort,  that  he  could  provide  for  me. 

Of  course  we  reached  Alexandria  safely 
enough,  and  went  to  Montazah  Palace, 
which  is  on  the  edge  of  the  sea.  and  almost 
half  an  hour's  drive  out  of  the  city. 

I  had  my  eighteenth  birthday  at  Mon- 
tazah Palace.  It  was  a  wonderful  party,  with 
so  much  to  celebrate,  and  such  great  hopes 
that  our  bab\'  was  going  to  be  a  wonderful 
boy.  W'e  went  to  the  Beach  House  for  the 
party.  Il  is  built  like  one  of  the  villas  of  an- 
cient Egypt,  or  such  as  one  can  see  today  in 
Pompeii,  with  the  house  around  an  open 
courtyard,  which  has  a  small  pool  and  foun- 
tain, and  the  beautiful  blue  sky  for  a  roof 
over  the  middle  of  the  house.  My  mother  and 
.grandmother  were  at  the  party  and  my 
uncles,  and  the  King's  elder  sisters  with  iheir 
husbands. 

I  have  never  in  my  life  felt  so  pleasantly 
the  center  of  attention.  I  wore  an  ankle- 
length  dress  of  blue  lalTeta-  il  was  a  crino- 
line wiih  heavy  flounces  down  the  skin  like 
a  waterfall.  The  King's  three  pretty  daugh- 
ters were  laughing  and  playing  in  the  court- 
yard with  balloons  and  streamers,  and  we 
liad  a  band  that  made  music.  Tea  was  served 
on  the  outside  balcony  that  was  sheltered 
from  the  stirring  sea  wind  by  hand- woven 
tapestried  screens,  and  later  we  all  went  to 
Montazah  Palace  and  saw  a  film  in  the  pri- 
(Continiied  on  Page  111) 


WHAT 
NONSENSE ! 


In  tuo  usrt:  H.  Ut  and  $2.75. 


ALL   PMiCtft  *'l  Uft  TAX 
KCtrr  VITAMinS 


PI 

ID    •«>  "l  ace  (  reams,  throat 

^H^^^^H  creams,  nose  ereainii,  eye 
^^^^^^1  ciiin  crcamii  — 

wim  <l(i  you  think  you're 
loiiliiig.''  '  ^ay^  Ann  iJelafiejd.  "\\\  all 
.skin,  isn't  it'/  Tliere'.s  ctcrvlliinfi  your 
skin  need.s  to  keep  it^  natural  beauty 
in  my  .\ll-Piir(Kise  Deep  (.ream  .  .  , 
richly  penetratinp.  tliorouplily  cleans- 
ing, naturally  lieautifying." 

Ann  Delafield's  Eye  Kit  has  all  you 
need  for  glamorous  eyes.  Ann  Dela- 
field  -  Li(i>tiek  is  long-!a.>ting.  indelible. 
Ann  Delalifl(r>  Powder  has  the  foun- 
dation liiiilt  right  in.  .And  tlii>  is  the 
only  vitamin-centered  beautv  line — 
becauire  Ann  Delafield  know-  that 
beauty  begins  within! 

Go  to  your  Rexall  store  TODAY. 
Start  looking  lovelier  tomorrow. 


A  busy  woman's  cosmetics:  French- 
formula  I'liwiler  -SL-iO — Indelible  Lip- 
stick SI. 2.5 — Skin  Freshener  .S1..50 — 
Cologne  S2.50 — Eve  Compact .  .  .  Quik- 
On  mascara,  shadow,  eyebrow  pencil, 
liner  .  .  .  Party  S5.00,  Purse,  S2.00. 


"Beauty  begins  u  itli  \  itaniins.""says.\nn 
Delalielii.  One  month's  supply.  $2.50. 

vQav  oJll  REXALL  djiM^  ^tjy^ 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  195 


The  best-dressed  beds  wear  CANNON  percales! 

( and  how  little  they  cost!) 


6  flattering  fashion  colors! 

Sleep  beautifully  .  .  .  snuggled  between  colorful,  flattering  Cannon 
Percale  Sheets.  Select  the  shade  most  becoming  to  you  — and  your 
bed— from  the  chart  of  Cannon  fashion  colors  (right).  All  lovely,  last- 
ing colors  — for  Cannon  Percales  are  colorfast,  as  approved  by  the 
American  Institute  of  Laundering.  Glorious  in  white,  too. 


SHELL  PINK  AQUAMARINE 


.annon 


SUNSET 
ROSE 


LAGOON 
GREEN 


MOONLIGHT 
YELLOW 


PINK 

LILAC 


►spun  percale — yet 

Feel  how  soft . . .  how  soothing.  These  precious  percale  sheets  are  luxurious 
to  the  touch,  but  not  the  least  bit  fragile!  Cannon  Percales  are  Combspun 
for  service.  The  cotton  is  combed  till  only  longest,  strongest  fibers  remain. 
The  cost?  Onlv  a  few  pennies  more  than  lieavy-duty  muslin  sheets. 

*Reg.  u.  s.  Pat.  Off. 


Cannon  1  itted  Sheets  stay  smooth ! 

They  slip  right  over  your  mattress  . . .  stay  smooth  with- 
out a  wrinkle . . .  cut  bedmaking  time  in  half.  Get  Cannon 
Fitted  Sheets,  in  white  or  colors,  twin  or  double  sizes. 
Permanent  fit  — residual  shrinkage  less  than  170. 


New!  Make  slip  covers,  curtains  with  sheets! 


It  actually  costs  you  less  than  with  comparable  fabric  by  the  yard  to  fashion 
bedroom  ensembles  with  Cannon  Percales.  Learn  how  easy  it  is  to  do.  Send  10^, 
with  your  name  and  address,  for  Cannon's  idea-crammed,  full-color  booklet, 
"Make  it  with  Sheets!"  Write  Cannon  Mills,  Inc.,  Box  1,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 


More  women  use 
Cannon  Percales  than 
any  other  brand! 


Cannon 


combspun 
percale  sheets 


r 

<  9 

< 

CANNON 


COPR    1953.  CANNON  MILLS.  INC..  N.  Y.  13.  N.  Y.  •  CANNON  TOWELS  •  STOCKINGS  •  BEDSPREADS 


REGULAR 


I    \   It   I  I 


II     i>     M     I         I     •>     I      |(     N     \  I. 


AVw  iHillcriis  iIkiI  (lid iikiI ize 
your  fhiir  jor  llic  nutdcm 
your  hn'c  o/  ihc  1 1  tidil nmal 


Give  your  liornc  tlic  iifwrst  look  . .  .  the  look  of  fa'<hion  .  . .  that  only  wallpaper 
can  j)rovi<lc-!  It's  casii-r  than  ever  now  that  Imperial  U'asfiahlv  U'all[)apcrH  are 
prccision-lriniincd.  Amonj;  these  new  Imperial  pa|)rrs  there  are  many  patterns 
kcycil  ti)  liii-  tresii  simplicity  of  modern  rooms,  as  well  as  designs  to  accent  the 
cliarin  of  tiadiliimal  di'eoralion.  And  prices  start  at  less  than  one  dollar  a  roll! 
Remeniher,  Iinjx-rial  is  Color-Locked,  fjuaranteed  for  three  years  to  clean  ac- 
cording to  instructions  and  not  to  fade.,  or  it  will  be  replaced  without  charge. 


I  M  ]  P  E  R  I  A  L 
WALLPAPE  RS 


IMPERIAL  IS  NOW  PRECISION -TRIMMED  FOR  EASY  HANGING 
AND  PACKAGED  FOR  PROTECTION 

Selvase  is  removed  at  tlie  factory  witli  electronic  precision. 
Accurate  edses  —  perfectly  joined  .seams — are  assured.  Tl»e 
fu.ssiest  part  of  liansins  wallpaper  is  eliminated.  No  tedious 
cutting,  no  messy  trinimin«rs  in  the  home.  This  means  quicker, 
easier  hana:ing,  and  a  better  finished  job.  Special  package 
completely  protects  precision-triiuined  edges  and  .  j'^*  ' 
delivers  every  roll  to  you  in  perfect  condition.  ■^''^''^^.f^,'^- 


0 


FASHIONS  BY  MOLLIE  PARNIS 


Your  "COLOR  H.\RMONY  KIT"  by  Jean  UcLain  contains  planning  sheets  and 
crai/un.i  in  10  banic  colors  to  help  sketch  your  own  schemes.  Yours  for  only  S5(. 


(Conliniiiil  fnim  I'lif.c  lOV) 

Vale  Ihealer  tlicrc.  I  renieinher  that  it  was 
Mario  Lanza  in  The  (Ircal  Caruso,  and 
{'"aiouk  and  I  iielfl  hands  as  we  walciied  tiie 
joy  and  |)ri(le  of  the  ureal  singer  in  his  l)ahy 
(launiiler,  and  wiicii  the  (ihn  siiowed  hmi 
lnakiIl^^  iiis  first  lec-ordiiin  of  liecause  for  his 
child,  1  remember  iny  hushaiul  li'aniiin  over 
to  iiie  and  wiusperm^;,  "  Kveii  a  hal)y  nirl  is  a 
splendid  miracle,  isn't  it?" 

But  of  course  I  knew  that  he  was  hoping 
foi  a  boy  as  iiuich  as  I  was. 

We  wi'iit  back  to  Cairo  on  November  (>, 
and  the  joiinu'y  was  made  interest iii^  be- 
cause K^ypt  liad  just  received  a  new  molor- 
cai  with  a  Diesel  eniiine  that  had  been  im- 
jxtrtcd  from  Italy.  Farouk  was  very  m- 
IriKued  by  it,  and  insisted  iiixm  bein^;  shown 
over  it  in  every  detail,  testing  the  brakes 
and  operatint;  handles,  and  drivinn  it  a  little 
way,  and  even  takinu  several  of  the  more 
complicated  new  devices  to  bits  and  reasseni- 
blm.u  them,  before  he  was  satisfied.  He  is  a 
very  t^ood  mechanic,  and  can  lake  a  car  to 
bits  and  put  it  loKcther  a^ain. 

Hy  this  time  I  was  advised  indeed,  1  was 
almost  ordered  to  bonin  a  secluded  life, 
wail  inn  for  my  baby  to  be  born.  The  days 
pa.ssed  very  lraiu|uilly  and  hopefully,  and 
although  there  were  troubles  and  disturb- 
ances in  Cairo,  my  husband  did  everything 
possible  to  shelter  me  from  the  knowledge 
and  worry  of  these  matters. 

It  was  at  a.m.  on  Wednesday,  Jan- 
uary l(i,  that  I  fell  the  first  pain  which  told 
me  our  child  was  soon  lo  be  brou^hl  into  the 
world. 

For  a  few  momenls  before  I  awakened  my 
husband,  the  King,  I  slared  into  the  quiet 
darkness,  and  felt  rather  overwhelmed  by 
the  great  part  thai  destiny 
had  called  upon  me  lo  play 
in  the  affairs  of  my  coun- 
try. In  only  a  few  hours  I 
would  know  whether  I  was 
the  one  chosen  lo  become 
the  mother  of  the  future 
King  of  Egypt. 

Farouk  awoke  then  by 
himself,  for  his  own 
slumber  had  been  light  and  watchful.  Me 
turned  on  the  light  and  gave  me  a  very  lov- 
ing, encouraging  smile  and  said.  "Courage, 
cherie.  that  is  how  we  all  come  into  the 
world."  In  a  few  momenls  he  had  aroused 
my  mother  and  Sister  Iris,  who  were  sleep- 
ing in  the  adjoining  room,  which  had  been 
especially  prepared  for  the  birth.  The  doctor 
was  sent  for  at  once. 

Yet  I  did  not  go  into  the  special  labor 
room  until  after  seven  a.m.  I  preferred  to  slay 
with  my  husband,  and  gather  strength  and 
courage  from  him.  It  was  only  just  a  little 
more  than  an  hour  after  I  did  go  that  our 
son  was  born. 

Afterward  I  slept,  and  awoke  to  hear  the 
first  booming  of  the  guns  that  signaled  to  all 
Egypt  that  a  new  member  had  come  to  the 
royal  family.  I  kept  my  eyes  shut,  and 
counted  each  salvo.  It  would  be  21  for  a 
princess,  and  101  for  a  crown  prince.  I  could 
have  opened  my  eyes  and  asked  any  person 
who  was  in  the  room,  waiting  to  attend  upon 
me,  but  instead  I  preferred  that  the  gun 
salute  should  tell  me  the  important  news. 
The  guns  spoke  so  distantly  and  imperson- 
ally, although  the  sound  of  them  from  the 
palace  yard  sent  small  tremors  through  the 
walls.  After  the  twenty-first  salvo,  I  found 
myself  holding  my  breath,  for  it  seemed  such 
an  unending  silence  .  .  .  until  the  next  came 
rolling  through  the  tall  windows  of  the 
palace,  and  echoing  over  the  roofs  of  Cairo, 
too,  as  though  it  was  aware  of  the  impor- 
tance of  its  own  thundering  voice. 

Another,  and  another— and  then  I  was 
sure,  and  opened  my  eyes  to  find  that  my 
husband  was  standing  beside  my  bed  and 
looking  down  at  me,  and  there  were  tears  in 
his  eyes,  tears  of  love  and  pride.  He  said  very 
quietly,  "Well  done,  Nunny,"  which  has 
always  been  his  particular  pet  name  for  me, 
and  I  slept  again  with  my  hand  safely  in  his. 
They  told  me  afterward  that  I  slept  for 
nearly  five  hours,  and  during  all  that  time  he 
remained  by  my  bedside  and  did  not  take 
his  fingers  from  mine. 


I  know  that  he  had  Uen  very  anxioun,  and 
|)erhaps  not  without  reawin,  for  when  I  Imd 
Ixen  carryiiiK  my  baby  only  twcniy-Bix 
weeks  the  dcKitor  had  to  Ik'  called  nuddenly 
one  night,  and  we  had  several  dayn  ol  the 
greatesl  anxiety,  in  which  Ijotli  iny  hiuljiind 
and  the  d(Kior  had  knell  and  prayed  aloud. 
My  mother  had  m  ven  baljien,  and  hix  of  iheni 
were  Ixtrn  t(M)  s<K)n  and  died.  I  wan  the  only 
one  that  survived.  Farouk  knew  thin  when 
111  married  ine,  and  we  were  Ixth  aware  that 
such  things  can  sometimes  Ix-  carried  from 
mother  to  daughter,  but  it  made  no  differ- 
ence in  his  love  for  me. 

Hut  baby  Fuad  was  Ixirii  not  more  than  .1 
lew  days  i)remalurely,  and  i(  there  was  any  I 
fault  at  the  birth  it  was  certainly  not  with  I 
little  I'"iiad,  who  weighed  just  over  seven  and 
a  (inarter  ixnmds  and  had  unusually  Ioiik 
hands  and  feet,  which  meant  they  told 
me  that  he  would  glow  to  Ix;  a  very  tall 
man.  l-'arouk's  hands  and  feet  were  cjf  the 
same  shajx'  and  he  is  over  six  feet  tall  today. 

1  ihebaby  was  being  b(jrn,  my  mother 
wailed  anxiously  outside  the  d(X)r.  but 
Farouk  would  not  do  so.  He  has  always  in- 
sisted that  it  was  his  duly  as  a  husband  lo  bo 
with  me  while  my  baby  was  being  lx)rn. 

"All  husbands  should  know  what  a  miracle 
this  is,"  he  often  says,  "and  they  should  tx- 
there  lo  see  it,  and  lo  know  about  the 
strangeness  and  the  pain,  and  to  realize  how 
near  they  come  lo  the  hand  of  Allah,  when 
they  become  father  of  a  child." 

So  he  was  there,  in  a  while  surgical  smock, 
helping  Doctor  Magdi.  And  with  him  was  his 
friend.  Doctor  Rachad,  and  Sister  Iris  and 
Nurse  Anne,  and  of  course  an  anesthetist, 
who  gave  me  a  sickening  sweet  whiff  of  some- 
thing. s<j  that  I  do  not  re- 
member hearing  the  great 
shout  that  went  through 
the  entire  palace:  "It's  a 
bxjy !  "The  first  one  lo  know 
was  the  anesthetist,  and  he 
had  the  voice  of  a  soldier. 
People  came  running  down 
the  corridor.  But  I  had 
known  nothing  of  this. 
Farouk  was  sc  pleased  and  proud  that  he 
promptly  bestowed  a  title  U}xjn  DcKlor 
Magdi,  and  as  he  sluxjk  his  hand  and  said, 
"This  is  a  wonderful  moment,  Pasha ! "  little 
Fuad,  who  was  in  the  nurse's  arms,  just 
freshly  born,  gave  a  cry  and  moistened  Dr. 
Magdi  Pasha's  laughing  face.  The  doctor 
reached  for  a  towel  to  dry  himself  and  said, 
laughing,  "I  have  had  two  honors  at  the 
same  moment ! " 

The  next  time  I  awoke  it  was  night  again, 
and  the  bedroom  was  dimly  lit.  I  could  see 
Sister  Iris,  wakeful  in  a  chair,  and  also,  on  a 
low  couch  near  the  fool  of  my  bed,  was  the 
King! 

It  must  have  been  an  even  more  exhaust- 
ing day  for  him  than  it  had  been  for  me,  but 
at  my  first  stir  of  wakefulness  he  was  at  my 
side,  and  seemed  pleased  to  be  able  lo  talk 
to  me  for  a  little  while.  Every  night  after- 
ward for,  I  think,  almost  a  week  he  slept  on  a 
mattress  on  the  couch  at  the  foot  of  my  bed, 
lo  be  near  me  if  the  need  should  arise. 

On  the  following  Saturday  I  was  taken 
from  my  bed  to  the  window  that  overlooks 
the  square  in  front  of  the  Palace  of  Abdin, 
and  watched  my  husband  review  the  troops 
and  take  the  salute  upon  the  parade  in  honor 
of  the  new  Crown  Prince  of  Egypt.  My  hus- 
band Farouk  is  always  very  imposing  on  a 
military  parade,  and  in  my  opinion  nothing 
suits  him  better  than  a  uniform.  I  remember 
that  as  I  watched  him  I  had  a  feeling  of  great 
happiness  at  the  thought  that  at  last  I  had 
done  something  for  him  in  return  for  his 
love,  and  that  I  had  begun  to  play  my  full 
part  as  his  wife  and  queen. 

My  first  official  hours  out  of  bed  were 
when  Fuad  was  seven  days  old.  For  when  an 
Egyptian  baby  reaches  this  age,  we  hold  a 
ceremony  called  the  "Soubouw,"  in  which 
relatives  and  friends  come  and  form  into  a 
ritual  procession  and  walk  llirough  the  house 
with  lighted  candles,  scattering  rice.  This  is 
a  very  ancient  custom  originating  in  the  days 
when  the  Pyramids  were  young,  with  the 
purpose  of  frightening  away  spirits  of  evil, 
as  do  the  gargoyles  on  Christian  churches. 


Imperial  Paper  and  Color  Corporatios 
Dept.  S309,  Glens  Falls.  N.  Y. 

I  am  enclosing  25^  for  copy  of  "Color  Harmony 
Kit." 

Ku  m  e  

Address  

City  Zone  Sfafe  


A  man'i  faults  will  be  as 
large  as  a  mountain  ere  he 
himself  sees  them. 


112 


L    A  DIES 


H    O    M  K 


.1    O    U    R     >J    A  I, 


April,  195: 


Pot  Scve^  OfteoiMA ...  a£u>ai(4 ! 

A   LIFETIME   OF   BEAUTY  WITH 
SOLID   LANCASTER   COUNTY   MAPLE  FURNITURE 


Your  bedroom  must  always  be  the  room  that 
breathes  enchantment  .  .  .  like  this  one  glorified 
by  Willett  Lancaster  County  Maple.  The  simple 
lines,  the  tradition  of  this  fine  furniture  date  back 
to  the  old  Pennsylvania  Dutch.  It  is  solid  maple, 
patiently  hand  rubbed  to  a  satiny  finish  — its 
warm,  golden  hue  glows  against  the  dusky  walls 
favored  by  smart  decorators  today.  Companion 
upholstered  pieces  by  Willett  are  cushioned  with 
foam  rubber  to  give  you  dreamy  comfort  that 
lasts  .  .  .  comfort  built  in  by  honest  workmanship. 
Here  is  furniture  designed  for  everyday  enjoy- 
ment with  the  timeless  lines  and  beauty  of  an  heir- 
loom. Select  Willett  furniture  by  the  room  or  by 
the  piece  from  open  stock.  If  you  like  the  room 
shown  here,  you  can  buy  it  from  your 
dealer  for  approximately  $519.00^'. 


America's  largest  maker 
of  solid  maple  and 
cherry  furniture  for  living  room, 
dining  room  and  bedroom. 


Versatile 
night  table— 
from  Lebanon  County. 
$44.00 


Luxurious 
foam  cushioned  sofa. 
$379.00 


•  Prices  F.  O.  B.  Louisville 


Beautifully 
dovetailed  and 
pegged  cobbler's  bench.  $102.50 


CONSIDER    H.    WILLETT,    INC.,    LOUISVILLE    11,  KENTUCKY 


Our  Soubouw  was  a  very  lengthy  proces- 
sion, and  it  was  headed  by  baby  Fuad  him- 
self, carried  in  the  arms  of  Nurse  Chermside, 
his  English  nanny.  He  was  most  beautifully 
dressed  in  a  gown  of  antique  lace  that  was 
trimmed  with  blue  ribbons  and  spread  almost 
to  the  ground.  He  behaved  beautifully,  and 
stared  around  with  his  very  wide  eyes— 
which  are  now  a  velvety  brown  but  were 
then,  of  course,  typical  baby  blue. 

I  was  not  permitted  to  walk  with  the  Sou- 
bouw procession  myself,  although  I  felt  quite 
well  enough  to  do  so.  Dr.  Magdi  Pasha  had 
advised  that  I  should  await  the  procession  in 
the  sitting  room  of  the  haremlik,  and  that  I 
should  not  attempt  to  dress  completely,  but 
merely  wear  a  housecoat  over  my  nightdress. 
The  King  waited  with  me,  and  when  the  pro- 
cession arrived  baby  Fuad  was  handed  over 
to  me,  and  at  once  fell  asleep.  He  continued 
to  sleep  peacefully  in  my  arms  during  most  of 
the  time  that  we  had  tea,  that  afternoon. 

Four  uays  afterward,  I  got  up  and  was 
dressed,  and  this  would  have  been  too  early 
in  the  opinion  of  Dr.  Magdi  Pasha,  except 
that  this  day  was  the  terrible  Black  Satur- 
day, and  the  Communists  and  Wafdists  were 
burning  Cairo  and  killing  Europeans. 

The  three  young  princesses  were  at  Koub- 
beh  with  their  governess,  and  we  were  glad  of 
this,  for  they  were  not  in  the  thick  of  the 
rioting,  as  was  the  Palace 
of  Abdin.  There  were  ter- 
rible scenes  of  violence 
outside,  and  we  were  in 
some  fear  of  our  lives,  for 
we  could  never  be  sure 
that  a  Communist-inspired 
mob  would  not,  when  suit- 
ably inflamed,  turn  upon 
the  palace. 

It  seems   rather  sad, 
when  I  think  back  upon 
that  terrible  day,  and  of 
my  husband  Farouk  so 
anxious  for  the  safety  of  us 
all,  and  for  what  the  rioters 
were  doing  in  Cairo,  to  re- 
alize that  some  of  his  ene- 
mies are  now  sayir^  it 
was  Farouk  who  plotted 
the  riots!  Had  they  seen 
him  as  I  did,  his  face  al- 
most gray  with  worry  and 
care  on  that  day,  they 
would  perhaps  know  better.  But,  as  he  would 
be  the  first  to  tell  me,  the  enemies  of  a  king 
would  not  care,  for  lies  are  the  bullets  of  this 
strange  new  war  we  are  all  fighting  in  the 
world  today. 

But  Farouk  had  to  see  all  his  work  being 
destroyed,  on  that  Black  Saturday.  He  had 
worked  and  planned  for  years  to  get  enough 
power  to  halt  the  corruptions  of  the  Wafdists, 
and  at  the  last  disastrous  elections  it  had  all 
fallen  from  his  fingers,  almost  at  the  moment 
when  it  seemed  that  he  was  going  to  succeed. 
And  this  was  the  result— a  "hate  Britain 
and  hate  America  "  campaign  that  could  not 
help  but  do  tremendous  damage  to  every- 
thing that  the  men  who  loved  Egypt  were 
planning  for  her  future. 

By  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
the  rioting  had  increased  so,  and  so  many 
buildings  were  in  flames  around  us,  that 
black  smoke  hung  like  fog  in  every  room  of 
the  Palace  of  Abdin,  and  little  Fuad  was 
coughing  pitifully.  Hot  cinders,  blown  into 
the  sky  by  explosions,  actually  found  their 
way  into  the  palace  through  the  upper  win- 
dows and  burned  holes  in  the  lovely  car- 
pets. 

Farouk  was  desperately  anxious  that  no 
harm  should  come  to  me  and  to  our  baby, 
and  he  wanted  us  to  be  ready  to  leave  the 
palace  in  case  it  caught  fire.  The  troops  were 
in  the  streets  and  we  could  hear  gunfire,  and 
the  mob  was  all  around  us. 

But  there  was  one  incident  in  that  upset- 
ting day  which  still  makes  us  both  smile 
when  we  think  of  it.  Everything  had  been 
made  ready  for  the  dash  to  the  Palace  of 
Koubbeh,  and  little  Fuad  was  zipped  into  a 
small  Moses  basket  for  traveling.  Nurse 
Chermside,  very  English  and  very  calm, 
had  the  job  of  carrying  him.  Nurse  de  Meyer, 
who  like  all  Swiss  is  a  good  person  to  have  on 


one's  side  in  an  emergency,  had  carefuUj 
packed  a  holdall  that  contained  not  onlj 
spare  diapers  and  clothing  for  Fuad,  but  alsc 
tins  of  milk  and  a  paraffin  heater,  in  case 
should  become  separated  from  my  baby,  oi 
if  anything  should  happen  to  me— for  at  thii 
time  I  was  feeding  him  myself,  and  continuec 
to  do  so  for  the  first  eight  weeks.  Sister  Iris 
joined  the  anxious  little  group,  and  she,  too 
had  brought  the  tools  of  her  trade— hei 
sterilizing  drums  and  first-aid  kit,  bandages 
lint  and  scissors.  And  last  of  all  came  mj  i 
personal  maid  Violet,  who  had  decided  thai  i 
the  most  useful  and  appropriate  thing  she  j 
could  bring  with  her  in  this  dreadful  emerji 
gency  was ...  my  tortoise-shell  manicure  set 

I  COULD  not  help  but  laugh  at  the  sight  ol 
each  of  my  very  brave  and  devoted  friends 
standing  grimly  by  with  the  tools  of  her  re^ 
spective  trade,  from  sterilizing  drums  t 
tortoise-shell  nail  file,  while  red  death  sprea 
itself  outside  our  windows,  across  our  belove 
white  city  of  Cairo. 

But  it  proved  to  be  no  laughing  mattei 
that  day,  for  many  were  killed  and  muc^ 
damage  was  done,  and  my  husband's  causi 
received  a  very  severe  blow,  on  Blac 
Saturday. 

It  had  followed  so  swiftly  upon  the  days  o 
our  supreme  happiness  and  the  birth  of  ourl 
son  that  it  was  all  the| 
more  bitter. 


A  Lesson 

I  tried  to  force  a  bee 
Out  of  my  window. 
And  I  was  stung. 
Next  time  he  came, 
1  enticed  him 
Into  a  flower 
And  easily 
Was  rid  of  him. 


Farouk  had  great  hopes! 
for  our  son.  He  had  alwaysl 
worshiped  his  own  father,! 
King  Fuad  I,  and  several  I 
times  when  Farouk  has! 
been  confronted  by  some| 
particularly  difficult  deci- 
sion, I  have  heard  him  say  I 
to  himself,  "What  would! 
my  father  have  done  about) 
this?" 

"The  great  thing  about! 
my  father,"  he  used  to  I 
say,  "was  that  he  did  not! 
live  by  whims  and  moods, 
but  knew  exactly  where  I 
he  was  going,  and  what  he 
wanted  to  achieve.  I  think 
that  is  the  finest  quality  a  | 
leader  of  men  can  hope  to 
possess." 

The  history  books  that  I  studied  at 
school  record  that  King  Fuad  shed  tears 
of  happiness  when  his  son  Farouk  was  born, 
and  I  know  that  Farouk  felt  the  same  way 
about  his  own  baby  son. 

"We  will  call  him  after  my  father,"  he 
said  without  any  hesitation,  "we  will  call 
him  Fuad!" 

And  as  I  watched  Farouk  holding  his  tiny 
son  in  his  big  arms,  I  found  myself  saying 
with  a  smile,  "Ah,  there's  a  baby  who  is 
going  to  be  very  spoiled." 

"Indeed  he  is  not!"  said  Farouk.  "He 
must  learn  to  be  a  man,  and  to  be  a  king,  too, 
if  that  is  what  destiny  holds  for  him.  And  to 
be  a  king  is  not  so  easy  as  many  people  seem 
to  think." 

He  began  to  quote  a  poem  by  an  English 
author,  Rudyard  Kipling: 

"//  you  can  talk  with  crowds  and  keep 

your  virtue, 
And  ivalk  with  Kings — nor  lose  the  common 

toiich  .  .  . 

And  all  men  count  with  you,  but  none  too 
much  " 

He  told  me,  "  I  shall  see  that  he  reads  that 
poem  when  he  is  young,  for  it  contains  all 
that  a  king— or  a  man— needs  to  know  in 
this  world.  You  can  read  it  in  five  minutes, 
but  it  sometimes  takes  a  lifetime  to  discover 
the  wisdom  to  carry  it  out." 

I  held  out  my  arms  for  the  baby,  and  he 
gave  him  back  to  me.  "My  little  son,"  I 
said,  and  Farouk  laughed. 

"Our  little  son,"  he  corrected  me,  smiling. 
"Don't  forget  that  I  had  a  little  to  do  with 
it  too !  He  will  only  be  your  little  son  when 
he's  naughty— all  the  rest  of  the  time  he  is 
to  be  referred  to  as  ours!" 

(To  be  Concluded) 


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114 


In  dining  alcove,  an  elm  table  ( $98)  expands  for  company.  End  bars  pull  out— center  is 
seamless— to  seat  8.  Wall-side  server,  a  louvered  cabinet,  contains  linen,  flatware. 


Green  burlap  walls  under  slanting  rafters  carry  out  a  country-fresh  mood;  2  milk-white  hanging  lamps 
accommodate  a  jumbo  sofatofull  length.  Flax  rug  ($15.95  sq.  yd.)  ismoth-  and  flameproof—and  reversible. 


Even  sky  and  garden  bring  new  dimension,  when  sheer  draperies  of  woven  cotton  ($2.55  yd.)  open  spectacularly.  Light  reflects 
on  fine  woods:  a  table-desk  of  mellow  walnut  in  modern  line  ($150),  red  armchairs  imaginatively  framed  in  walnut  and  beech. 


TN  countnside  Long  Island,  two  Toung 
1  owners  of  a  newly  built  home  studied  a 
floor  plan  most  popular  in  project  houses 
today-but  it  posed  a  problem.  Actual  v. 
there  are  three  rooms  in  one-and  on  the 
small  side.  A  living  room  21'  long  but  onlv 
11 '4"  wide  leads  into  a  dinnig  alcove  H  xK 
at  left  of  fireplace.  At  opposite  end  of  livnig 
room  is  a  study  Tr  square.  For  space, 
each  room  had  to  meander  mto  the  next. 
Still  each  had  to  be  defined  for  its  own  use. 
Ano'ther  challenge:  a  chill  north  light.  .  . 
And  here  you  see  how,  in  breezy  modern 


terms,  ihev  devised  a  home  that  speaks  of 
openhanded,  open-house  living 

At  center:  a  cordially  big  couch.  Around 
il.  a  marble-and-brass  coffee  table,  desk 
uilh  rattan-seated  iron  stool,  ihree  chairs— 
eacli  easv  but  light,  without  bulk.  The 
polished  floor  gives  an  illusion  of  spacious- 
ness, warmed  by  a  twe.'d-textured  rug. 
jaisy  bowl  ceramic-  and  glass-based  table 
.amps— each  item  was  purchased  in  scale 
to  the  room,  so  that  nothing  is  too  big  or 
too  small,  but  all  in  pleasing  relation.  A 
violet  chair  and  plaid  hassock  make  easy 

llv  H.T.  WIIJ.IA>IS 


D 


fireside  companions,  and  forest-green  couch 
and  two  flame-red  chairs  carry  such  brac- 
ing color  the  whole  room  glows  even  on 
grav  davs. 

For  dining.  Danish  oak  chairs  and  lan- 
tern-high lamp  take  up  slight  space.  And  the 
sludv's  prize  is  a  two-in-one  chest  and  desk. 
Sliding  doors  to  the  study  are  left  open  for 
extra  footage.  And  even  that  small  room- 
titled  with  hand-woven  Mexican  wool  rug, 
bookshelves,  polished  wood  fool  locker  and 
a  d  IV  bed— adds  a  big  extra  to  hospitality  by 
doublin.'i  as  a  suest  room. 


116 


L   A    D    I    K    S  •       HOME       J    O    I)    R    N   A  L 


April,  1953 


How  iis  new  version 

of  the  Bible 
can  diangs  your  Itfe 


Your  present  Bible,  most  likely,  is  the 
King  James  Version  .  .  .  translated  342 
years  ago.  and  filled  with  expressions 
that  are  confusing  to  us  today.  Too 
often,  therefore,  it  lies  in  your  home — 
respected,  but  neglected. 

Now  at  last  vou  can  own  a  Bible 
written  in  living  language  ...  so  clear 
and  powerful  you  will  find  yourself 
turning  to  it  regularly — enjoying  all 
the  help  and  stimulation  that  God  s 
Word  offers  in  these  troubled  times. 
It  can  literally  change  your  life,  bring 
you  greater  peace  of  mind. 

This  version  is  an  authorized  Bible, 
inore  faithful  to  earliest  known  manu- 
scripts than  any  other  version. 

Newest  Version 
Really  Our  Oldest 

In  the  342  years  since  the  King  James 
Version  was  published,  dramatic  dis- 
coveries of  old  documents  have  shed 
new  light  on  the  Scriptures.  Based  on 
these  authoritative  manuscripts — some 
more  ancient  than  any  previously 
known — the  RSV  is  in  a  sense  our  oldest 
Bible.  And  it  is  far  more  accurate  and 
easier  to  understand. 

Easier  to  Read 

Ninety-one  Bible  sclmlars  cooperated 
in  the  fourteen-year-long  labor  to  re- 
cover the  full  meaning  of  the  Bible. 
They  preserved  the  timeless  beauty  of 
the  King  James  Version,  but  freed  the 
Bible  from  outdated  expressions  that 
make  it  difficult  to  read. 

Did  yoti  know,  for  instance,  that 
in  Kinj;  James'  lime  "by  and  by 
mean  I  inmifiliately?  Thai  a  mans 
"conversation"  meant  his  vtiiuluct? 
That  "lo  suffer"  ineaiil  U>  alliiir? 

In  the  Revised  Standard  Version, 
direct,  understandable  language  makes 
the  original  meaning  clear. 


THE  PERFECT 
GIFT  AT 
EASTER 


What  more  appropriate  gift 
could  you  choose  at  Easter 
than  the  Book  that  tells  the 
ever  new  story  of  Jesus  in  the 
language  of  today?  Devout 
readers  of  the  King  James  Ver- 
sion praise  the  richer  under- 
standing the  new  Revised  Stand- 
ard Version  of  the  Bible  brings. 
Clearer  and  easier  to  read,  it  is 
ideal  for  young  people.  This 
Easter,  let  it  bring  renewed  in- 
spiration to  those  you  love. 


Religious  Leaders 
Praise  It 

"for  everyone  seeking  peace  of  mind, 
victory  over  fear,  and  a  solution  of 
personal  and  social  problems,  this  ver- 
sion will  be  of  great  practical  help," 
says  Dr.  Norman  Vincent  Peale.  "Crys- 
tal clear  .  .  .  even  more  faithful  to  the 
original  Greek  than  the  King  James 
Version,"  says  Dr.  Frank  C.  Laubach. 
Dr.  Harry  Emerson  Fosdick  counsels, 
"Every  Christian  should  possess  this 
translation." 

Here  is  a  Bible  so  enjoyable  you'll 
pick  it  up  tidce  as  often.  Its  cleai ,  simple 
language  makes  Bible  reading  a  reward- 
ing pleasure  your  whole  family  will 
want  to  share.  As  it  strengthens  your  ^ 
understanding  of  God's  Word,  it  will 
bring  new  spiritual  joy  to  you  and  your 
loved  ones. 


Round  in  handsome  ^  #  f\f\ 
maroon  buckram,  ^O.UV/ 


The  Revised  Slamlard  Version  of  the  Bilile  is  aixhorized 
by  the  National  (Council  of  the  (Churches  of  Christ  in  the  U.  S.  A. 


CA^  THIS  MARRIAGE  RE  SAVED? 

(Continued  from  Page  49) 


refused  to  take  me  I  would  nearly  die  of 
shartie. 

"When  I  was  twelve  years  old,','  Sylvia  re- 
membered, "I  ran  away  hoping  to  find  my 
mother.  I  was  shy  for  my  age,  and  one  of  the 
boarders  had  been  . . .  unpleasant.  Aunt  Elsie 
insisted  I  was  to  blame  for  his  coming  in  my 
bedroom,  although  I  was  scared  to  death  and 
screamed  my  head  off.  Next  morning  early — 
I  can  still  remember  the  sun  wasn't  up  and 
how  gray  and  cold  it  was — I  packed  my 
things  and  ran  off.  I  thumbed  a  ride  and  got 
as  far  as  the  next  county.  When  the -police 
brought  me  back.  Aunt  Elsie  telegraphed  for 
mamma  and  she  came  and  there  was  a  fear- 
ful row.  I  was  asked  the  most  dreadful  ques- 
tions; half  of  them  t  couldn't  answer  and  the 
rest  made  me  almost  ill  with  embarrassment. 
But  ever  then  mamma  wouldn't  take  me 
away  to  be  with  her.  I  never  forgave  her  for 
that. 

"But  it  was  always  my  father  I  hated  the 
most.  It  was  his  fault  I  had  no  home  of  my 
own,  his  fault  my  mother  didn't  love  me.  It 
was  his  fault  I  had  to  live  with  my  Aunt  Elsie 
and  listen  interminably  to  her— her  disagree- 
able ideas.  Aunt  Elsie  made  me  read  the  most 
awful  books  about  sex,"  Sylvia  recalled  with 
obviously  unforgotten 
distaste.  "One  of  the 
books  was  entitled  The 
Evils  of  Dancing,  and 
for  years  afterward  I 
was  afraid  to  dance.  I 
thought  I'd  get  preg- 
nant or  something. 

"Aunt  Elsie  always 
predicted  I'd  wind  up 
in  the  gutter  like  my 
father.  And  in  my  teens, 
I  almost  did.  For  sev- 
eral years  it  seemed  as 
if  I  wanted  lo  be  bad. 
You  may  find  this  hard 
to  believe,  but  at  fifteen 
and  sixteen  I  was  crazy 
about  boys.  My  aunt 
wouldn't  permit  dat- 
ing, so  I  would  crawl 
out  the  bedroom  win- 
dow and  meet  some 
boy  on  a  street  corner 
in  town. 

"Aunt  Elsie  never 
found  out  I  had  a  repu- 
tation for  being  fast,  but  I  was  worse  than 
fast.  I  let  boys  take  all  kinds  of  liberties  and  I 
did  the  heaviest  kind  of  petting,  and  more 
than  once  I  went  the  limit.  I  guess  I  was  try- 
ing to  be  popular,"  said  Sylvia,  and  there 
were  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  What  other  explana- 
tion is  there?  I  never  enjoyed  the  sexy  part  of 
the  loving;  all  I  wanted  was  the  newness  and 
the  kissing  and  the  admiration.  Afterward 
nearly  always  I  would  hate  the  boy,  really 
hate  him,  and  refuse  to  date  him  any  more 
and  start  hunting  for  someone  else  to  like  me, 
someone  new. 

"  I  don't  know  what  would  have  happened 
to  me,"  said  the  wife  of  twelve  years,  "if 
Everett  and  I  hadn't  met  and  fallen  in  love 
and  married  when  I  was  nineteen.  He  was 
good  to  me  at  first,  so  tmderstanding  and 
kind.  But  later  he  changed  and  I  changed 
too. 

"For  one  thing,  there's  my  crazy  jealousy. 
I  don't  want  Sue  or  any  other  woman  to  have 
my  husband.  We've  had  terrible  fights  on 
that  subject.  Once  when  Ev  didn't  gel  home 
till  one  A.M.  and  I'd  just  done  his  laundry  in 
the  afternoon,  I  jerked  all  his  shirts  and 
shorts  from  his  side  of  the  bureau  and  threw 
them  on  the  floor.  Then  I  screamed  at  him  to 
call  in  Sue  to  do  his  washing  if  he  liked  her  so 
much.  Ev  ran  and  pulled  down  the  window  so 
the  neighbors  wouldn't  hear,  and  I  ra'n  after 
him  and  pushed  the  window  up  and  screamed 
louder  than  ever.  The  neighbors  heard  and 
Joan  woke  up  and  she  heard  too.  I  know  our 
scenes  are  dreadful  for  her,  but  I  can't  stop 
myself  or  control  my  jealousy.  Can  you  tell 
me  how  to  stop  it? 

"  I  haven't  even  the  excuse,"  Sylvia  then 
said  with  biting  self-contempt,  "of  behaving 


Can  Believe 


I  can  believe  in  the  marvelous 
again, 

Having  seen  on  a  rainy  afternoon 
From  the  window  of  a  ten-by-seven 
room 

The  whole  world  pierced  straight 

through 
By  the  blueness  of  your  eyes 
As  simply,  as  easily 
As  the  heart  in  a  childish  valentine 
By  a  crayoned  arrow. 


like  a  model  wife  myself.  I  don't  follow  my 
own  ideals  and  princii^les.  I've  never  been 
physically  unfaithful  to  Ev  and  I've  never  in- 
tended to  be.  But  I  haven't  been  faithful  in 
spirit.  Often  when  we  go  out  I  find  myself 
automatically  looking  around  and  wondering 
which  man  I  can  attract  and  persuade  to  fall, 
in  love  with  me.  Then  when  it  happens,  when 
the  flirting  part  is  over,  I  can't  run  fast 
enough.  Outraged  virtue— that's  me! 

"  I  love  my  husband  as  much  as  I'm  capa- 
ble of  loving  any  man,"  said  Sylvia.  "But  I 
don't  behave  myself  and  I  can't  respond  to 
Ev  the  way  he  thinks  I  should.  Things  got  so 
bad  two  months  ago  I  suggested  a  divorce.  I 
was  thinking  of  Joan  as  much  as  myself,  I 
wanted  to  get  her  away  from  the  whole  idea 
of  sex  and  its  ugliness. 

"  When  I  asked  for  the  divorce  I  expected 
my  husband  to  object,"  said  Sylvia,  and 
wrung  her  hands.  "  Instead,  Ev  told  me  to  go 
ahead.  Then  I  realized  the  wreck  of  our  mar- 
riage was  mostly  my  own  fault.  So  I  begged 
for  another  chance,  and  Ev  promised  to 
drink  less  and  stop  seeing  Sue  and  I  promised 
I'd  try  to  be  more  responsive. 

"Neither  of  us  kept  our  promises.  Four 
weeks  later  I  tried  to  kill  myself.  When  Ev 
came  home  that  night 
a  month  ago,"  con- 
tinued the  distraught, 
unhappy  woihan,  "and 
stumbled  into  the  bed 
beside  me  I  tried  to  slip 
away  as  I  usually  do. 
There's  a  cot  in  Joan's 
room.  But  Ev  reached 
out  and  grabbed  me 
and  I  smelled  his  whisky 
breath,  and  something 
in  me  seemed  to  snap. 
I  simply  had  to  have 
my  freedom.  I  ran  in 
the  bathroom  and 
swallowed  the  sleeping 
pills  before  Ev  knew 
what  I  was  doing,  al- 
most before  I  knew, my- 
self. All  I  knew  was  I 
never  wanted  to  be 
bothered  with  men  or 
sex  again.  If  it  weren't 
for  sex,  and  if  Everett 
would  quit  drinking 
and  running  around,  I 
truly  believe  I  could  manage  my  life  and  be 
reasonably  happy.  As  happy  as  other  people. 
But  sex — men's  idea  of  sex — throws  me 
every  time." 

Everett  tells  his  side: 

"  I  married  Sylvia  because  she  was  running 
wild,"  said  Everett  to  the  marriage  coun- 
selor, "and  I  felt  sorry  for  her.  At  nineteen 
she  seemed  like  a  sweet,  mix^d-up  kid  being 
ruined  by  the  wrong  kind  of  crowd.  I  loved 
her  enough  to  want  to  take  her  away  and 
look  after  her.  I  knew  Sylvia  had  been  kicked 
around  by  her  folks  and  had  a  rough  home 
life — mine  wasn't  heaven  either — and  I 
never  blamed  her  for  any  of  the  things  she'd 
done.  Sylvia  told  me  all  about  herself — ex- 
cept for  one  thing. 

"  Until  several  years  after  Joan  was  born," 
said  Sylvia's  husband,  "I  thought  my  wife 
loved  tne.  We  were  both  working  hard  and 
saving  to  buy  our  home  and  get  set  finan- 
cially, and  Sylvia  was  so  loyal  in  that  respect 
she  had  me  fooled.  Then  the  pressure  to  earn 
a  living  eased  and  I  began  to  catch  on  to  the 
washing  Sylvia  had  to  do  just  at  bedtime,  or 
the  letter  she  had  to  write,  or  those  sudden 
headaches  of  hers.  The  whole  truth  came  out 
when  my  wife  went  to  a  furniture  sale  and 
without  consulting  me  had  twin  beds  in- 
stalled in  our  room  as  a  'surprise.'  By  then  I 
wasn't  exactly  surprised,"  said  Everett, 
"but  I  got  badly  hurt  in  the  argument  over 
those  beds.  I  won  the  argument  and  the  twin 
beds  went  back  to  the  store,  but  I  never  felt 
the  same  about  Sylvia  or  our  marriage  again. 
I  woke  up  to  things  I  hadn't  noticed  before. 
(Continued  on  Page  119) 


)    \  I)  I  I 


II     <i     M  I 


I    II    I      l(     N  \ 


No  dust  bag  to  shake  out . . .  no  paper  bag,  sack  or  pan  to  take  out. 
Nothing  to  take  out  —  no  dirt  to  handle  ever! 


Onl/  Electrolux  sells 


the  (A^mr  you 

neyer  have  \o  empf 


The  New  Electrolux  does 
automatically  what  other 
cleaners  don't  do  at  all! 


HAVE  you  seen  the  New  Electrolux?  It's 
the  greatest  home-cleaning  invention 
since  the  vacuum  cleaner  ...  so  automatic 
you  won't  believe  it  until  you  do  see  it.  Your 
Electrolux  salesman  is  showing  it  now,  so 
don't  miss  it! 

It  never  has  to  be  emptied!  It's  .automatic! 

incredible,  but  true!  This  is  the  cleaner  you 
mmr  have  to  empty!  There's  nothing  to  clean 
out ...  no  dust  bag  to  shake  out ...  no  paper 
bag,  sack  or  pan  to  take  out!  You  touch  no 
dirt,  breathe  no  dirt,  see  no  dirt! 

"But  where  does  the  dirt  go?"  you  may  ask. 
Well  that's  just  one  of  the  features  you  have 
to  see  to  believe. 

Always  gets  the  deep-down  dirt!  It's  automatic! 

Here's  why  the  Electrolux  cleans  better — and 
keeps  on  cleaning  better.  It  has  suction  power 


so  strong  it  will  pick  up  dirt  deep  down  in  the 
bottom  of  the  rug.  But  even  more  important, 
because  of  its  exclusive  automatic  feature,  the 
New  Electrolux  can't  lose  its  remarkable  clean- 
ing ability  ...  no  matter  how  much  dirt  you 
pick  up! 

Cleans  better  ALL  the  time!  It's  automatic! 


All  other  cleaners  need  to  be  emptied  by  the 
user.  Electrolux  is  automatic.  If  you  forget 
to  empty  a  non-automatic  cleaner,  it  soon 
reaches  the  "lazy  suction"  point  where  it's 
getting  only  the  surface  dirt,  and  eventually 
not  even  that.  But  the  New  Electrolux  never 
needs  to  be  emptied.  You  don't  have  to  worry 
about  it  getting  "lazy" — the  automatic  fea- 
ture won't  permit  that.  And  you  never  waste 
your  time  just  cleaning  the  tops  of  your  rugs 
or  trying  to  clean  with  a  machine  that's  clogged 
up,  because  someone  forgot  to  empty  it!  The 
New  Electrolux  keeps  right  on  cleaning 
efficiently  and  quietly  —  saving  you 
time  and  work 


A  complete  home-cleaning  service!  It's  automatic! 

Yes,  the  New  Electrolux  makes  all  your  home 
cleaning  easier  than  ever  before  .  .  .  and  more 
convenient  too,  because  all  the  cleaning  tools 
can  be  with  you  all  the  time.  And  just  think! 
In  the  average  home  you  can  clean  all  the  rooms 
on  one  whole  floor  without  once  having  to  change 
the  plug.  What's  more,  you  can  have  a  cord 
that  stays  out  of  your  way  because  it  unwinds 
and  winds  itself  up  .  ,  .  all  automatically! 

WAIT  till  you  see  it!  It's  automotic! 

Before  you  decide  on  any  cleaner,  see  the 
New  Electrolux.  Ask  for  a  free  home  demon- 
stration. The  New  Electrolux  is  sold  only  on 
home  demonstration  by  bonded  salesmen  who 
sell  the  Electrolux  machine  and  no  other.  Lib- 
eral terms.  Just  phone  your  local  Authorized 
Electrolux  Factory  Branch,  or  call  Western 
Union  Operator  25  (no  charge)  and  ask  for 
the  name  of  your  nearest  Electrolux 
representative.  Or  write  to  Electrolux 
Corporation  at  nearest  address  below. 


5^ 


"foucfi  nodiVt!  "Frea^fi  nod'Vt!  SeenoJiVt!  ^ 


ELECTROLUX  CORPORATION,  500  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  36,  N.  Y.— 417  Montgomery  Street,  San  Francisco  4,  California 

P 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


AprU,  19 


Look!  Isn't  this  a  wonderful  range?  Instant  on-off 
heat.  Lights  without  matches.  Big,  roomy  oven  and 
a  swing-out  broiler.  Easy  to  clean.  And  how  it  cooks ! 


lU-M  m  m  ! 

Notliing 
broils  food 
like  the  new 


automatic  Gas  ranges ! 


/ 


V 

f  > 

\  ■ 

See  why  Gas  broiling  is  smokeless!  Hold 
a  match  over  a  lighted  cigarette.  See 
how  the  flame  "eats  up"  every  wisp 
of  smoke.  Smoke  is  stopped  before  it 
starts,  when  Gas  does  your  broiling! 

See!  Automatic  lighting  ...  without 
matches,  at  the  turn  of  a  knob.  And 
there's  no  waiting,  no  warm-up  period 
with  Gas.  Instantly,  you  get  the  high 
broiler  heat  only  a  flame  gives  you. 


Ah-h-h,  that  flame-kissed  flavor!  There's 
nothing  like  it!  And  do  use  your  broiler  for 
whole  dinners  like  this.  Pre-cooked  or  canned 
vegetables  are  placed  under  and  around  the 
meat  —  pick  up  a  delicious  flavor  from  the 
juices.  This  swing-out  broiler  is  a  feature  on 
the  "CP"  IVIagic  Chef.  See  all  the  features  of 
the  wonderful  new  automatic  Gas  ranges  at 
your  Gas  company  or  Gas  appliance  dealer's. 


AMERICAN 


GAS  ASSOCIATION 


See!  Broiler  door  shut!  Only  with  Gas 
do  you  always  have  the  heat  where  it 
belongs  —  in  the  broiler,  not  in  the 
kitchen!  Yet  Gas  ranges  cost  much 
less  to  buy,  less  to  install,  less  to  use! 


gives  you  smokeless 
broiling  plus 
flame-ldssed  flavor 


GAS  -  THE  MODERN  FUEL  FOR  AUTOMATIC  COOKING  .  .  .  REFRIGERATION  .  .  .  WATER  •  HEATING  .      HOUSE  -  HEATING  .  .  .  AIR-CONDITIONING  .  .  .  CLOTHES- DRYING  .  .  .  INCINERATIOf  ?> 


(Conlimifd  from  Puuf  llo) 
tie  thinKs.  Did  Sylvia  happen  to  u-ll  you 

•  started  lakin^  sleeping;  pills  in  llie  (irm 
ice  so  she'd  be  sure  to  lall  sound  asleej) 
.ile  I  was  still  talking  to  her,  and  ^ettint; 
idy  for  Ix'd?  Probably  not.  She  didn't  lei! 

•  either.  I  uui'ssed. 

"Four  or  live  years  a^;o."  said  Iwereti, 
ny  wife  went  to  some  crack|)ot  d(K-tor  who 
Id  her  the  sex  re(|uireinents  of  a  normal 
m  should  be  satislied  by  relations  once  a 
•ek.  It  was  her  idea  to  jnit  me  on  that  kind 
schedule    ijrovided,  of  course,  I  hadn't 
ken  a  drink,  in  which  case  she  would  1h'  ex- 
sed.  I'm  not  interested  in  scheduling  my 
e  that  way,"  sjiid  he.  "There  are  other 
jmen  in  the  world  who  don't  l<x)k  at  me  un- 
vorably  when  I  approach  them. 
"I  tried  to  I)e  penile  and  patient  with 
/Ivia  at  (irst,  and  not  scare  her.  Hut  I  don't 
aim  to  be  an  an^jel.  Later  there  were  times 
hen  I  lost  my  temper  and  k<)1  lout;h.  Par- 
cularly  those  times  wiien  Sylvia  claimed 
le  loved  me  and  then  proccrded  to  insult 
,e.  She  certainly  doesn't  prove  her  love  by 
.T  crazy  jealousy.  What  riuhl  has  Sylvia  to 
:  jealous? 

"I'm  thirty-three  years  old  and  I'm  hu- 
an.  I  have  no  apologies  to  offer  my  wife 
■  you  either,"  Everett  then  said  to  the 
)unse!or.  "Frankly,  I  ckm't  intend  to  dis- 
iss  my  personal  behavior  with  you.  My 
ily  object  in  beini;  here  at  all  is  to  help 
raiuliten  out  Sylvia.  Over  the  past  year 
le's  worked  herself  into  a  stale  of  nerves 
here  she's  a  sick  woman.  I  don't  need  a 
ivcholonist  to  tell  me  that. 
"I  dislike  the  idea  of  a  divorce,"  said  Ev- 
ell.  "because  of  our  little  .i,'irl.  I  tirew  up  in 
broken  home  myself,  and  I  know  what  it's 
<e.  Hut  lately  I've  betjun  to  think  Joan 
Duld  be  better  off  away  from  our  constant 
;htinjj.  Unless  Sylvia  chan,t;es  her  entire 
titude— and  I  don't  believe  she  will 
lanije — I  see  no  hope  for  our  marriage. 
"Don't  get  the  impression  I  intend  to 
alk  out  on  my  wife  while  she's  sick,"  he 
Ided.  "I  haven't  forKoltcn  how  Sylvia 
uck  by  me  in  the  days  we  didn't  have  a 
me  between  us.  Sylvia  kept  the  Ixxiks  in 
y  real-estate  oflke  and  mana.ned  to  take 
ire  of  our  kid  and  the  house  at  the  same 
lie.  In  those  days  she  didn't  whine  and  com- 
ain.  The  w-hinint;  and  complaininii  and  the 
•sterics  arc  a  recent  development. 
"If  it  will  help  Sylvia's  health,"  said  Ev- 
ett  in  conclusion,  "I'm  perfectly  willing  to 
op  diinking  for  some  set  period,  althouyh 
11  far  from  the  lush  Sylvia  claims  I  am.  1 
in'l  deny  I  occasionally  stop  in  a  bar,  get 
Iking  with  the  boys  and  take  on  more  than 
need.  I'm  in  no  particular  hurry  to  get 
)me  to  a  wife  who  treats  me  as  Sylvia  does, 
y  drinking,  I  assure  y.ou,  is  not  the  cause  of 
ir  trouble.  The  trouble  is  in  Sylvia  herself, 
hen  my  wife  gels  on  her  feel  nervously  and 
lysically,  and  gains  back  the  weight  she's 
St.  I'm  inclined  to  think  the  best  answer  for 
1  concerned  is  a  divorce." 

he  marriage  counselor  says: 

"I  only  talked  to  Everett  twice."  said  the 
unselor  in  discussing  the  case,  "but  I  saw 
id  consulted  with  Sylvia  for  many  months, 
le  was  indeed  the  major  problem  in  this 
arriage.  Hefore  she  was  able  to  change  her 
Tsonalily  and  her  deeply  rooled  attitudes— 
the  end  she  did  change  radically — she  was 
)liged  to  understand  the  causes  of  her  ex- 
enie  frigidity  and  the  inevitable  results  in 
ihappiness  to  her  husband,  her  daughter 
id  herself. 

"At  the  age  of  thirty-one  Sylvia  was  al- 
ost  as  emotionally  immature  as  a  child  of 
ur  or  five.  She  was  in  constant  restless 
arch  for  the  type  of  love  and  attention  she 
id  not  received  at  the  proper  time  in  her 
e.  Rejected  by  all  her  relatives  during  her 
rmative  years,  literally  starved  for  affec- 
m.  when  she  reached  her  teens  Sylvia  re- 
)lted  by  'running  wild.'  Like  many  other 
en-age  girls  who  break  the  moral  code  to 
tin  'popularity,'  Sylvia  wanted  love,  an  ex- 
ssive  amount  of  love,  on  an  infantile  level, 
le  sought  hugs  and  kisses,  gentleness  and 
Imiralion  from  every  boy  she  met.  But  sex 
5elf  repelled  her. 


I      V     it     I     I      >  II 

1  here  was  nothing  in  her  prcvioiin  ex|x-- 
rieiice  to  indicate  lo  her  that  a  mature  rela- 
tionship bi-t  ween  a  man  and  woman  could  be 
worth  while  and  valuable.  Her  nex  educalion 
and  her  wretched  intnxluction  to  m-x  argued 
strongly  to  tin-  contrary. 

"iMirthermore,  she  lud  Ix-eii  taught  to 
iMlieve  her  father  waH  a  devil  with  liornn. 
She  had  iHrs<inal  reasons  for  haling  hiin. 
I"  her  mind  and  emolions  her  father 
iHcaine  /irmly  associated  with  the  idea 
that  men,  all  men,  were  brutal  and  evil.  Her 
meanint^li'ss  adolescent  sexual  ex|MTmients 
served  to  strengthen  the  notion. 

"Sylvia  carried  this  large  collection  of 
damaged  attitudes  into  her  marriage.  She 
liad  the  naive  Ikiih-  marriage  lo  Kverelt 
would  miraculously  alter  her  dislike  of  sex. 
During  the  honeym(K>ii  iHTi(Kl.  and  Ihe 
piriod  when  she  and  Iweretl  were  working 
to  establish  thems«-lves  linaiicially,  Ihe  two 
made  out  fairly  well.  At  lirsl  the  novelty  of 
b(  ing  a  wife  and  Everetl's  newness  salislie*! 
Sylvia    her  feverish  craving  for  luwness 


\i  I 


I  I* 


I 


I'lasler  in  a  lime  for  reanirni- 
'm>i  our  I'ailli  in  llie  fiiliin-  ol 
inankinii.  \s  xibraiil  >|iriii^' 
replaces  l>arreii  wiriler.  as  the 
joy  <)!  n'siirrc<  li(»n  triiiiii|ili> 
oxer  ihe  darkness  of  death, 
so  this  slioiild  lie  ihe  lime 
when  we  liel|>  implant  hope  lo 
replace  despair  in  the  hearts 
of  (lie  world  s  milorlmiale. 


•  The  SIO  AmmI  parkafje  you  send 
through  CAKE,  20  Broad  Sireel. 
\<:u  ^  ork  (lily,  or  your  local 
<!AHI*',  oUice.  can  hriiif;  rciic«cil 
courage  lo  suflcring  war  orphans 
and  refugees  in  South  Korea  .  .  .  lo 
impoverished  villagers  in  India  .  .  . 
lo  Iron  (airlain  refugees  whose 
dreams  of  freedom  are  mocked  hv 
their  precarious  existence  in  \\  esl- 
ern  (Germany  .  .  .  lo  ihc  weary  and 
worried  in  a  score  of  countries  from 
Italy  lo  die  l'liiiip[iines.  \\  lialc\cr 
the  language  men  S])eak.  >onr 
(!\RE  gift  will  he  imiversallv  un- 
dersl<«)d.  It  will  ex]>ress  xiur 
Easier  prayer  for  a  world  united  in 
peace  and  lirolherhfKjd. 


was  itself  a  tip-off  to  her  immalurily.  The 
period  when  she  and  Everett  worked  hard 
also  satisfied  her.  It  is  worth  noticing  that 
Sylvia  didn't  worry  about  her  frigidity  so 
long  as  slie  kept  busy  and  active. 

"Later,  however,  she  had  far  loo  much 
time  in  which  lo  do  the  wrong  kind  of  think- 
ing about  herself.  She  thought  and  slewed  in- 
cessantly about  her  failure  in  sex.  without 
reflecting  sex  isn't  the  whole  of  life  or  the 
whole  of  personality,  but  merely  an  impor- 
tant part. 

"To  think  about  an  unsatisfactory  sex- 
ual experience  is  very  likely  to  make  the 
next  experience  even  less  satisfactory.  Think- 
ing too  much  along  such  lines  magnified  in 
Sylvia's  mind  the  importance  of  each  succes- 
sive failure  on  her  part  to  achieve  a  sexual 
climax.  Soon  she  began  to  blame  Everett  for 
these  failures.  He  had  not  been  a  teetotaler 
before  their  marriage,  but  now  she  proceeded 
lo  blame  her  lack  of  sexual  satisfaction  on 
his  drinking.  Why? 

"She  identified  her  husband's  drinking 
with  her  father's  drinking.  Subconsciously 
convinced  all  men  were  selfish  brutes,  she 
was  subconsciously  punishing  a  father  six- 
teen years  in  liis  grave  by  failing  to  respond 
to  her  husband's  ardor.  Everett  countered 
her  unresponsiveness  and  her  now  vocal 
complaints,  both  of  which  deeply  wounded 
his  masculine  pride,  by  drinking  more  than 
ever  and  turning  to  other  women.  Thus  once 


liUMn  Sylvia  louiid  \u-rmU  emolK/tuilly  re- 
jected   a  Hituaiion  intolerable  (o  hiT 
"She  n-i.  ••  ,t  111  .    I  .  '  I'l  ■  .'1    ...  ... 

twirs  ami 

She  then  -  ..         .    i,,,,         /    .  . 
naturally  denied  her  by  llirimK  wilfi  </'  ■ 
men  In  turn,  and  (|Uiie  naturally,  luo.  ii.<  v 
men  oKered  her  aflairn  hIic  didn'l  want, 
dee|Ml>lllK  her  liclief  that  the  witole  male  M  X 
wan  evil. 

"Similarly  her  (rtendnhiiM  were  empty  be- 
cause her  demands  were  cxich>iiv<-  and  im- 
mature. No  adult  friend  can-s  to  Ix?  en- 
folditl."  or  lo  lake  the  place  o(  a  parent. 

"After  twelve  yearn  ol  marriage  Sylvia 
was  still  ix  rsistenily  hunting  a  loving,  alTec- 
lionale  childhmKi  for  hers<-lf  s<iinething 
she  could  never  achieve  and  lo  which  nhe 
was  not  entitled  as  a  grown  woman.  In  thin 
search  she  was  ignoring  her  <iwn  daughter's 
ne<ds.  and  providing  a  girl  of  eU  ven  with 
almost  as  |)oor  a  s«-xual  education  as  her  own 
had  Uen.  She  was  driving  her  hiislKind  out 
of  Ins  home  in  the  corner  bar  anfl  inlo  the 
arms  of  other  women.  She  was  alsfi  making  a 
wreck  of  herself. 

"  When  Sylvia  underslixKl  why  she  and 
her  marriage  had  gone  on  the  rocks,  she 
went  lo  work  to  change  her  habit  patterns 
and  her  whole  |x-rs<jnalily.  She  t(X)k  a  volun- 
teer job  here  at  the  instilule  and  usi-fully 
emi)loyed  the  lime  she  had  Ix'en  wasting  on 
harmful  inlrosiX'Clion  and  self-pity.  She  dis- 
covered there  were  hundreds rjf  other  women 
with  marital  problems  far  worse  than  her 
own.  This  heljH'd  her  to  appreciate  Everett's 
many  virtues,  and  lo  make  a  delilx:rate  ef- 
fort lo  stop  punishing  both  him  and  herself 
for  her  dead  father's  sins.  She  gave  up  the 
childish  scenes  and  jealous  tantrums,  since 
she  now  desired  lo  become  mature.  Incid'  :. 
tally,  her  long  Ixjurs  of  work  assisted  her  in 
breaking  the  family  association  with  Sue  and 
her  husband. 

"Since  Sylvia  was  now  working  hard  to 
improve  herself  and  Everett  could  sec  it.  he 
agreed  there  were  belter  forms  of  recreation 
than  spending  every  week  end  in  drinking 
parlies  with  the  other  couple.  I  don't  know 
the  extent  of  his  entanglement  with  Sue, 
but  I  df)  know  when  Sylvia  began  to  show- 
appreciation  for  his  good  points  he  w  iihdrew 
from  the  situation. 

"Everett  also  modified  his  drinking  as  he 
had  promised.  This  materially  helped  Sylvia 
lo  check  her  exaggerated  horror  of  Everett 
after  he  look  a  single  highball.  His  drinking 
had  never  been  extreme. 

"  Sylvia  made  a  real  friend  of  her  daughter, 
and  endeavored  lo  curb  the  lectures  about 
dating  and  boy  friends  which  well  might 
have  driven  Joan  inlo  a  teen  period  similar 
lo  her  own,  and  an  equally  unsatisfactory 
marriage.  Sometimes  we  find  that  psycho- 
logical frigidity  has  been  passed  through 
several  generations:  a  prudish  Victorian 
mother  has  told  her  daughter  feminine  sexu- 
ality is  disgusting,  the  daughter  has  taught 
her  child  the  same,  and  so  on.  In  getting  ac- 
quainted with  Joan,  Sylvia  became  a  Girl 
Scout  ■  mother,'  and  formed  satisfying  friend- 
ships among  other  women  with  young  boys 
and  girls.  She  joined  several  other  clubs, 
was  elected  secretary  of  the  P.T.A.,  and 
thereby  earned  mature  and  appropriate  ap- 
proval and  popularity. 

"She  also  made  a  friend  of  her  husband. 
Even  before  the  problem  of  her  frigidity  was 
solved,  the  two  slopped  talking  about  a 
divorce.  When  Sylvia  ceased  regarding 
Everett  as  a  brutal,  demanding  husband  she 
was  able  to  see  him  as  he  was  —  a  human  be- 
ing who  had  been  good  to  her  and  to  whom 
she  owed  consideration.  She  put  aside 
thoughts  of  herself  and  forgot  previous  dis- 
appointments as  far  as  possible,  while  she 
undert(K)k  to  satisfy  Everett's  masculine 
and  natural  need  of  love.  Eventually  and 
almost  inevitably  she  was  rewarded  witli  a 
happy  sexual  adjustment  for  herself.  No 
miracle  was  involved.  Sylvia  thought  about 
herself  constructively,  turned  her  back  on 
the  past,  made  constructive  changes  in  her 
personality  and  attitudes,  and  came  of  age 
emotionally." 

Etiitora'  P>tote:  TliU  car^e  histor>  "as  compiled  and 
rondentied  from  actual  recor<lti  by 

DOROTHY  CAMERON  DISNEY 


How  to  make 
special  pastry 

lor  meat  pies 

.'iiiothiT  pic-biikinK 
hint  fmrn  Mnrii-  (JifTurd,  ^ 

A  ■      /  ■  ^ 

Armour  «  lumnn': 
homi-  vconum  i  ' 

The  ni?xt  time  you  biikc  savory  chicken, 
Iwi-f,  or  liimb  [ji«n  try  H<>m<-  of  ih<-K.- 
difTcrcnl  p/iHtry  ide;iH  from  Marii-  '.j) 
ford'M  Kitch«-n.  K<-<  i|>«-  Ix-low  .••  ' 
cnouKh  piiHtry  to  covit  xix  n 
(•iiKwrolcH,  or  one  I'y  f|u,irl  ■ 


Marie  GifTord's  Corn  Meal  Pastry 
Sift  together  2  cups  all-purpost;  flour 
and  1  tsp.  salt.  Stir  in  H  cup  yellow 
corn  meal.  lilend  in  %  cup  Armour  Star 
I..ard  until  dough  i.s  conHistency  of  coarse 
meal.  Add  4  Tbsp.  tap  water  and  presH 
dough  together.  Roll  to  'A-in.  thick- 
ness. Cut  circles  1  fti.  larger  than  cas- 
seroles. Top  filled  caKSffoies  with  pastry, 
crimp  edges,  and  prick  top  with  fork. 
Rake  in  42.5'  oven  for  25  to  30  minutes 
or  until  browned. 

Here's  another  way  to  add  variety  to 
meat  pie  pastry.  Follow  Five-M inute 
Pie  Crust  recipe  on  every  carton  or  tin 
of  Armour  Star  Lard.  Then,  stir  1  Tbsp. 
celery  seed  or  caraway  seed  into  dry 
ingredients  before  cutting  in  lard. 

Remember,  for  delicious,  flaky,  tender 
pie  crusts  anytime  —  use  Armour  Star 
Lard.  It's  America's  perfect  pie  lard  — 
the  lard  State  Fair  pie  champions  use. 
This  new-type  lard  stays  fresh  at  room 
temperature,  always  ready  to  blend. 
Got  a  pie-baking  question  ?  Just  write 
to  Marie  GifTord,  Dopt.  100.  Box  20.5.3, 
Armourand  Company,  Chicago9,  111. — for 
free  Picture  Book  of  Pie-Making  Hints. 


Now  available  in  con- 
venient 3-lb.  tins! 


Armour  Star 
Lard 

Lard  contains  essential  unsaturated 
fatty  acids  which,  when  included  in  the 
diet,  have  been  shown  to  be  effective  in 
protecting  the  health  of  the  skin. 


I  20 


MARGE  and  GOWER  CHAMPION  — Co-starring 
MGM's  "GIVE  A  GIRL  A  BREAK" 


m 


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Sterling  of  the  stars 

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WESTMORLAND'S 
George  and  Martha 
— the  choice  of  Marge  and 
Gower  Champion 
and  Jane  Powell 


WESTMORLAND'S 
Enchanting  Orchid 
— the  choice  of 
Debbie  Reynolds 
and  Debra  Paget 


L. 


Westmorland  Sterling 
Dept.  SP45 
New  Kensington,  Pa. 

I  would  like  to  know  more  about  the  Nancy  Prentiss 
Society  and  see  the  Westmorland  patterns.  Please  call  me 
for  an  appointment. 

Name  (print)  

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_Tel.. 


Beef  stew  can  be  wonderful  with  all  the 
regular  seasonings  yoii  have  on  your  shelf. 
But  if  you  want  that  extra  special  some- 
thing, try  sliced  water  chestnuts.  Many 
chain  stores  and  all  Chinese  food  stores 
carry  them. 


R<>t>f  !>itew  with  Wntor  Chestnuts 
4pr<M'n  Salad 
llrop  UiNcuitN 
Coffee  Ice  Cream 


Iti'ff  St*'ir  irilh  Water  Chv»lnntK 

Remove  rind  from  J^-pound  piece  of 
salt  pork.  Cut  the  pork  into  li"  cubes. 
Saute  the  pork  in  a  heavy  skillet  until 
crisp.  Add  1  clove  garlic,  peeled  and 
minced  fine,  and  1  large  onion,  sliced 
thin.  Cook  gently  until  onion  and  garlic 
are  pale  yellow.  Transfer  the  pork  bits 
and  vegetables  to  a  casserole.  Cut  1'^ 
pounds  lean  stewing  beef  into  serving- 
size  pieces.  Chuck  is  a  good  choice.  Dust 
the  beef  lightly  with  flour— 2  to  3  table- 
spoons is  sufficient.  Brown  meat  on  all 


sides  in  the  drippings  from  the  salt  pork 
Lift  meat  out  of  drippings.  Put  in  cas- 
serole with  1  cup  bouillon,  or  1  bouillor 
cube  dissolved  in  1  cup  hot  water,  and 
one  8-ounce  can  tomato  sauce.  Put  1 
tablespoon  mixed  pickling  spices  and  6 
peppercorns  in  a  square  of  cheesecloth: 
tie  together,  and  put  in  casserole.  Cover 
and  bake  in  a  moderate  oven,  350°  F., 
for  13  2  hours. 

Remove  from  the  oven,  add  3  large, 
potatoes,  peeled  and  diced;  1  No.  1  car 
small  boiled  onions  and  half  the  juice 
from  the  can;  and  1  small  can  or  34' 
large  can  water  chestnuts,  drained  and 
sliced  thin.  Add  3  -2  teaspoon  salt.  Put 
back  in  the  oven  and  bake,  covered, 
another  45  minutes.  If  any  fat  should 
float  to  the  top,  skim  before  serving. 
Remove  spice  bag.  Serve  from  the  cas- 
serole. Serves  4. 

Cnlfev  Iw  f^ream 

Pour  a  spoonful  of  black  coffee  over 
coffee  ice  cream  for  emphasis.  Won't! 
hurt  the  older  children. 


Grapefruit  Alaska  is  just  black  magic 
applied  to  everyday  ingredients. 


FinIi  Fiileis  with 
faeese-and-.^luMhrttwm  Suuo<^ 
>lore  Than  Su4*«-«»laNh 
Mixed  Ipreen  Salad  with  I>imienl4» 
and  Freneh  IkreNNint! 
4>raii«'fruil  Alaska 


Fish  FUleta  teith 
Cheese'und-MushroiHn  Sauve 

Put  1  small  onion,  sliced  thin,  the  juice 
of  half  a  lemon,  6  peppercorns,  1  tea- 
spoon celery  seed  and  1  teaspoon  salt  in 
a  pan  with  23^2  cups  water.  Simmer  10- 
15  minutes.  Lay  1  pound  washed,  fresh 
or  partially  thawed  frozen  fish  fillets  in 
the  broth.  Poach  in  the  broth  over  low- 
heat  until  the  fish  is  opaque.  Transfer 
the  fillets  to  a  small  warm  platter  or 
shallow  casserole.  Strain  the  broth  in 
which  the  fish  was  cooked.  Melt  2  table- 
spoons butter  or  margarine.  Blend  in  2 
tablespoons  flour  and  cook  together 
briefly.  Add  slowly  13^  cups  of  the  hot 
poaching  liquid,  stirring  over  low  heat 
until  thickened.  Add  33  cup  grated 
cheese,  stirring  until  melted.  Then  add 
1  small  can  sliced  mushrooms,  drained. 
Pour  the  sauce  over  the  fillets.  Sprinkle 
with  chopped  parsley  and  serve.  Serves  4. 


Mort!  Than  Sufeataah 

Cook  1  package  frozen  Fordhook  Limaj 
beans  and  1  package  frozen  green  bean^i 
according  to  package  directions.  Drair 
and  put  in  a  casserole  with  1  package 
frozen  cut  corn,  cooked  and  drained, 
or  I  (12-ounce)  can  whole-kernel  corn, 
and  1  can  condensed  cream-of-celery. 
soup.  Mix  well  and  season  to  taste. 
Bake  in  a  moderate  oven,  350"  F.,  for; 
about  15  minutes.  Serves  4— and  there" 
will  be  enough  left  over  to  reheat  for 
another  meal. 

fir  ape  fruit  Alaska 

Cut  2  grapefruits  in  half.  Remove  core' 
and  seeds.  Cut  around  the  sections,  be- 
ing careful  not  to  cut  too  deep.  Wrap 
the  skin  part  of  the  grapefruit  in  alumi- 
num foil.  This  is  for  appearance  and  in- 
sulation. Chill  thoroughly.  Heat  the 
oven  very  hot,  450'  F.  Beat  4  egg  whites 
until  stiff,  adding  a  pinch  of  cream  of 
tartar  and  a  pinch  of  salt.  Then  add  3^2 
cup  sifted  superfine  sugar  or  granulated 
sugar,  adding  the  sugar  1  tablespoonful 
at  a  time.  Put  2  heaping  tablespoons  ice  I 
cream  in  the  center  of  each  grapefruit 
half  and  pile  the  meringue  on  top, I 
spreading  to  the  edges  of  the  grapefruit. : 
Brown  5  minutes  in  the  hot  oven,  450' | 
F.,  and  serve  at  once. 


»r  Im'<'1' si  «'\\  will)  :i  special  loiit'h.  Iix  --lir<<l  w  ;i  I  ii'  <  lir-l  ii  1 1 1  ^ . 


iver  ml  into  slrips,  cooked  ever  so 
fly  and  dressed  with  parsley  saxice,  has 
'linnet  look  and  taste. 


■^iv4'r  with  l*»rNl<>>'  .^»ii<m> 
*  with  K^iii 

llak«>il  I***!  a  I  <>••.«> 
[■iiilo-an<l-4'<>l<>r>-  .\N|ii«-  Siilatl 
Frttxt'n  l*«'a<-li<>N  willi  lti4-«' 


MAviT  iri/li  I'urHli'u  Snufv 

1  pound  sliced  calf's  or  beef  liver 
I  thin  strips  about  1"  wide.  Sprinkle 
r  with  salt  and  pepper.  Dust  very 
tly  with  flour.  Saute  very  briefly 
to  5  minutes  on  each  side)  in  3 
lespoons  butter  or  margarine  over 
lium  heat.  The  meat  should  be 
vvned  but  pink  in  the  middle,  moist 

not  noticeably  shrunken.  Mean- 
le,  in  another  pan  melt  I4  cup  but- 
or  margarine  and  add  to  it  '3  cup 
ly  chopped  fresh  parsley,  a  little 
and  1  tablespoon  tarragon  vinegar. 

the  flavors  mingle  for  a  few 
utes.  Transfer  the  liver  strips  to 
nail  warm  platter  and  pour  the  sauce 
r  them.  Serves  4. 


Splniirh  irllh  Kan 

Wash  and  cook  1  package  fresh  spinach 
very  briefly  in  its  own  moisture,  or  cook 
1  package  frozen  spinach  according  to 
directions  on  the  package.  Drain  and 
chop.  Keep  hot.  Drop  in  1  raw  egg,  1 
small  onion,  cliopped  fine.  Add  1  table- 
sp(K)n  butter  or  margarine,  1  teaspoon 
salt  and  a  little  pepper.  Mi.\  thoroughly 
but  do  not  cook.  The  heat  of  the  spin- 
ach will  partly  cook  the  egg  and  the  un- 
cooked onion  will  give  the  dish  a  crisp, 
positive  accent.  Serves  4. 


#•>«;«•#!  I't'tn'ln'H  irilh  Itlff 

C(X)k  1 3  cup  rice  in  boiling  salted  water 
and  drain,  or  use  1  cup  leftover  cold 
cooked  rice.  Thaw  1  package  frozen 
peaches.  Chop  slightly  and  drain.  Com- 
bine the  drained  peaclies  with  the  rice 
and  fold  in  '  2  cup  heavy  cream,  whipped 
until  stiff,  flavored  with  '  teaspoon  al- 
mond extract  and  sweetened  with  1 
tablespoon  sugar.  Chill  for  at  least  1 
hour  before  serving  in  your  prettiest 
sherbet  glasses.  If  the  peaches  are  only 
partially  thawed  before  chopping  and 
mixing,  it  helps  to  chill  the  mixture 
faster.  Serves  4. 


nve  scalloped  potatoes  lilting  flavor 
h  a  touch  of  rosemary  Jrotn  your  herb 
If.  Rosemary  is  for  remembrance,  but 
'.'t  7{se  so  much  that  it  is  unpleasantly 
'orgettable. 


)       BrnilotI  Ham  Steak 
Iroon  R(>ans  willi  IMiiNhroonis 
■•allop«>tl  I'olaloi'N  anil  Onions 

with  K».*i<'mary 
'Iba  ToasI  wUh  Oeani  I  hoese 
and  *»trawb«'rr>-  .lam 


'rffn  Beans  irith  3lushrinniis 

ok  1  package  frozen  green  beans  ac- 
■ding  to  the  directions  on  the  package, 
ce  I4  pound  fresh  mushrooms  through 
p  and  stem  and  saute  them  very 
efly  in  3  tablespoons  butter  or  mar- 
rine.  Drain  the  beans  and  mix  with 
;  sauteed  mushrooms  and  the  butter 
margarine  in  which  they  were  cooked. 


Season  with  salt  and  pepper.  Serves  4. 

Srallnpvd  I'ulatttfH  and  Onhtns 
irith  Itfutt'ntarii 

Peel  and  slice  4  medium-size  potatoes 
and  4  medium-size  onions.  Grease  a 
shallow  casserole  and  place  a  layer  of 
sliced  potatoes  on  the  bottom  and  then 
a  layer  of  onions.  Sprinkle  the  layers 
with  flour  (you'll  need  about  \}4  table- 
spoons flour  for  the  whole  dish),  salt 
and  pepper  and  lightly  with  rose- 
mary—only %  teaspoon  should  be 
used  in  the  whole  casserole.  (This  herb 
is  very  strong  and  should  be  used  with 
caution  and  respect.)  Repeat  the  layers 
until  all  the  ingredients  are  used.  Pour 
in  about  2  cups  milk  (and  this  will  vary 
according  to  the  size  of  the  casserole). 
The  milk  should  come  to  the  top  layer 
but  not  entirely  cover  it.  Dot  with  but- 
ter or  margarine  and  bake  in  a  moderate 
oven.  350°  F.,  until  tender— about 
hours.  Serves  4. 


I  2  I 


Sucl 


1  o'OO 

tcistc. . . 


■  ■      ■  ..IT'* 


They're  always  sweet  as  summer! 
Libby's  Peas  with  that  real  June- 
time  flavor.  Libby's  Corn,  so  sunny- 
good  ...  in  both  cream-style  and 
golden  whole-kernel.  Serve  Libby's 
Peas  and  Libby's  Corn  together  to 
give  a  menu  a  special  spark.  Serve 
them  separately  often.  Libby's  are 
always  such  good  taste! 
Libby,  'McNeill  &  Libby,  Chicago  9,  III. 


LOOK  TO 


TRY   THESE   OTHER  FINE 
LIBBY'S  VEGETABLES 

Spinach    •  Beefs 

Asparagus    •    Lima  Beans 

Tomatoes    •  Pumpkin 

Stringless  Beans 

Peas  and  Carrots 

Garden  Mixed  Vegetables 


FOR  PERFECTION! 


122 


I.    \    D  1 


II    O    \l  I. 


.1  o  r  15 


\  I. 


April,  m 


just  right 
•  •  •  designed  for 


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Self-contained  spit  for  fowl,  large  roasts. 
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A  ^00(1  cheese  souffle  is  always  a  golden- 
brown  imitation.  Add  smoked  oysters  or  sauleed 
mushrooms  occasionally  to  keep  your  family 
interested. 

I'lict'Ne  Koufflt*  with 
Smokt'd  4t>'!«<or»> 
Fr<'n«*li-Fri<>tl  l*»(a(o  .Sticks 
Cold  I'ookt'd  llriN-foli  with 
l<'r<'n«*h  llr<'NNin{< 

llof  lllMCIlilN 

4'nnnod  Pt'iirs 
with  4°h«MMtlal<'  Sn ■■«'«' 

f'A<'(>«<>  Snnffli'  irith  Snial.'ftl  Itnitt'rn 

Separate  3  eggs.  Melt  3  tablespoons  butter  or 
margarine.  Blend  in  3  tablespoons  flour. 
Cook  together  for  a  few  minutes  over  low 
heat.  Add  1  cup  milk  gradually,  stirring  con- 
tinually until  smooth  and  thickened.  Add  1 
cup  grated  sharp  Cheddar  cheese,  '  tea- 
spoon salt  and  a  good  dash  of  pepper. -Stir 
until  the  cheese  melts.  Remove  from  heat, 
cool  slightly.  Add  the  egg  yolks,  well  beaten. 
Mix  until  smooth  and  add  1  small  jar  or  can 
of  smoked  oysters,  drained,  and  cut  into 
pieces,  along  with  }^  cup  finely  chopped 
parsley.  Beat  the  3  egg  whites  until  stiff  and 
fold  gently  into  the  cheese  mixture.  Heap 
into  a  greased  1 -quart  casserole  and  bake  in 
a  moderate  oven,  350°  F.,  45-50  minutes  or 
until  the  top  is  browned  and  is  firm  to  the 
touch.  (Sliced  sauteed  fresh  or  carmed  mush- 
rooms may  be  substituted  for  the  smoked 
oysters,  although,  of  course,  the  flavor  will 
be  different.)  Serves  4. 

1'annvtl  I't'tirn  irith  1'liin'itlnti'  Sainw 

Mix  together  '  •_.  cup  cocoa,  }  3  cup  light  corn 
sirup  and  6  tablespoons  water.  Cook  over 
low  heat  until  well  blended.  Stir  in  1 '  ■_>  cups 
sugar,  1  ■>  teaspoon  salt  and  1  cup  milk. 
Blend  well  and  cook  gently  for  about  10 
minutes  or  until  the  mixture  begins  to 
thicken.  Remove  from  heat  and  add  3  table- 
spoons butter  or  margarine.  Beat  a  few  min- 
utes. Stir  in  •  teaspoon  vanilla.  This  makes 
2  cups  and  will  keep  in  a  covered  jar  in  the 
refrigerator  for  several  weeks.  Serve  over 
drained,  canned  pears  this  time— on  ice 
cream  next  time. 


Chicken  paprika  is  simply  chicken  stew 
gone  glamorous  and  Viennese.  Sour  cream  and 
paprika  make  the  quick  change. 

4'hickfii  Paprikn 
ItiiMfrod  !V'oodl<>s 
MifccI  ToniaKM'K  wilh  l*ar»ilo>- 
and  l.4>ni»n  •luico 
llol  Froneh  Hroad 
Frnxfn  Kirawborr !<'.•< 
with  4'hoi>pod  Black  Walniils 


No  , 

•'flavors 

Extra-large,  drip 
proof  spigot 


for  yourself  .  .  . 

or  as   a   gift,   ask  for 

these  by  name!  n\J\X] ,     Fry    foods    to    crisp,    taste-temptpng  golden 

goodness  in  deep  fat.   New  streamlined  beauty!  Auto- 
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At  tetter  Stores  everywhere  .  .  . 

MFG.  CO.,  KANSAS  CITY,  MO.,  Rival  Mfg.  Co.  of  Canada,  ltd  ,  Montreal 


Choose  a  plump  3 '  ^-pound  chicken.  Have  it 
cut  into  pieces  as  for  fried  chicken.  I  like 
chicken  best  fried  in  chicken  fat,  and  a 
chicken  this  size  usually  doesn't  have  much 
fat.  Ask  your  butcher  for  a  piece  of  chicken 
fat  if  you  wish.  Heat  the  chicken  fat  slowly  in 
a  heavy  skillet  or  Dutch  oven  (or  use  3-4 
tablesix)ons  salad  oil  for  frying  the  chicken 
if  you  do  not  have  chicken  fat).  Season  the 
chicken  lightly  with  salt  and  pepper.  Brown 
on  all  sides  in  the  hot  fat  or  salad  oil,  adding 
1  clove  garlic,  minced  fine,  and  1  large  onion, 
chopped  fine,  when  the  chicken  is  partially 
browned.  Drain  ofT  excess  fat.  Add  2  cups 
water  and  1  teaspoon  salt.  Cover  and  simmer 
over  low  heat  about  1  hour  or  until  the 
chicken  is  tender.  Remove  the  pieces  of 
chicken  and  keep  them  warm.  If  there  is  any 
more  than  1 '  ■>  cups  of  liquid  in  the  pan,  cook 
this  down  a  bit.  Thicken  with  1  table- 
spoon flour  mixed  to  a  thin  paste  with  a 
little  cold  water.  Then  add  1  cup  thick  com- 
mercial sour  cream  and  1 '  ■>  tablespoons  pa- 
prika. Stir  until  smooth.  Put  the  pieces 
of  chicken  back  into  the  gravy.  Heat 
together  a  few  minutes  and  serve.  Spoon 
some  of  the  sauce  over  the  noodles  when 
serving.  Serves  4. 


Umisual  combination  of  everyday  foods— 
a  colorful  change  from  the  good  but  usual 
combination  of  pork  and  apples  but  the 
same  principle.  Do  you  have  a  can  of  pie 
cherries  on  the  shelf?  Long  slow  cooking 
makes  the  pork  chops  deliciously  tender.  And 
baking  the  pork,  rice  an  I  cherries  together, 
with  the  onion  and  green  pepper,  makes  for 
that  good  blend  of  flavors  typical  of  a  line 
casserole. 

I*»rk-and-4'h«'rry  Ca^jsorolc 
wllh  Kicc 
<'hi«M>r:»-  Salad     l<'r<'nch  llrcsNinei 
('orn  Broad 

irith  ith't' 

Sear  4  thick  shoulder  pork  chops  on  both 
sides  in  their  own  fat.  (Cut  a  little  off  and 
melt  it  before  putting  in  the  chops.)  Trans- 
fer the  chops  to  a  greased  3-quart  casserole. 
Sprinkle  with  1  cup  raw  rice.  Cut  off  tops 
and  remove  seeds  from  2  medium-size  pep- 
pers. Slice  thin  and  lay  on  top  of  rice. 
Sprinkle  with  1  medium  onion,  peeled  and 
chopped  fine.  Drain  1  No.  2  can  sour  cher- 
ries packed  in  sirup  or  1  can  water-packed 
sour  cherries.  Add  2  teaspoons  salt  and 
enough  water  to  the  cherry  juice  to  make  2 '  ■> 
cups  liquid.  If  you  use  water-packed  cher- 
ries, add  2  tablespoons  sugar.  Sprinkle  the 
cherries  over  the  rice.  Pour  the  juice  over  all. 
Cover  and  bake  in  a  moderate  oven,  350°  F. 
for  I'ii  hours  until  the  chops  are  tender. 
Serves  4.  the  end 


Diamonds  are  for  April 

Uh  3larinn  iJnoaireavvr 


The  diamond  is  for  April  and  her 

showers. 
When  day  breaks  like  a  heart 

breaking 

And  rain  is  the  color  of  tears  at  dawn. 
It  wets  the  white  and  the  opal 
flowers 

And  stars  the  bushes,  trembling, 

shaking, 
Dripping  down  to  the  dove-gray 

lawn. 


Diamonds  are  for  April  and  her 
sun. 

She  walks  the  woods  while  the 

lawn  is  drying,  • 
Wades  in  the  shadows  up  to  her 

knees, 

In  the  watery  shallows  that  ripple 
and  run 

While  the  light  floats  like  a  dove 
flying, 

Over  and  under  the  glittering  trees. 


1 


I.    \    I)    I     I  II    II    M     I         I    n    I      l(     N     \  1 


arcn  Chidfslor,  II,  Poiiliac, 
ichigan,  made  this  colorful  ad 


KELLOGG'S  INVITES  THE  KIDS 
TO  MAKE  THK  ADS 


II'  you'ri!  not.  over  I  I  yi'urs  old,  your 
idea  of  what  makes  KulloKK  "  ('<>rn 
Elakes  HO  good  may  win  a  bijj  pri/.t;  for 
you.  Maybo  it's  tlicir  (TispncsH  aiul 
deep,  deep  flavor,  sweet,  from  t  lie  hearts 
of  corn.  Or  tell  in  your  ad  liow  Ki-Hokk'" 
arc  t  he  (>rifiiii(d  corn  Hakes,  wit  h  a  won- 
derful taste  tliiil  nobody  else  haH  ever 
duplicated. 

Or  perhaps  you'll  \v;iut  to  say  that 
more  i)eople  eat  thcin  than  any  other 


ie.i(l\  In  .  .il  <  ereal  in  the  whole  w<»rld. 

See  the  rules  on  every  K<  I1okk'm 
l-'lakes  imcka^e.  Then,  with  paints  or 
crayons,  n>ake  your  fid. 
If  it's  used  ii\  a  maga- 
zine or  over  the  air, 
you'll  net  a  $100  U.  S. 
SavinK»  Hond,  plus  ;i 
$r)()0  Hond  if  your  ad  i^ 
judjjed  one  of  t  he  mix 
hesi  this  year. 


I\i  vt  V  i-nlnint 
l'if->  thf<  1*111 


7 


'/ 


FRESH  FROM  KELLOGG'S  of  battle  creek 

the  CRISP,  CRISP  flakes  with  the  DEEP,  DEEP  flavor! 


T,  \  n  I  V. 


II    ()    M  K 


.1    ()    li    U    \    A  I, 


April,  m 


For  tlie  sLin 
mat  feels  uneasy  in 
a  lieaw  maL:e-up 

How  fresh  and  softly  natural  your  skin  looks 
with  this  delicate  powder  base!  And  how 
"young"  it  feels!  Before  you  powder,  smooth 
on  the  sheerest  veil  of  Pond's  Vanisiiing  Cream. 
This  greaseless'  Cream  disappears  on  your  skin. 
No  oiliness.  No  streaking  or  discoloring.  Never 
a  shade  problem.  For  only  a  flattering,  invisible 
film  remains  to  protect  your  skin  s  natural 
softness,  to  prevent  harsh  drying  by  sun  and 
wind.  A  powder  base  of  Pond's  Vanisiiing  Cream 
gives  your  complexion  a  lovely,  satiny 
protection  that  takes  make-up  beautifully — 
holds  it  hours  longer! 


A  natural  beauty,  who 
lives  in  a  storybook 
castle  in  Scotland,  the 
Duchess  of  Argyll  pre- 
fers the  natural  look  in 
make-up.  She  says:  "A 
powder  base  of  Pond's 
Vanishing  Cream  is 
ideal  for  my  skin.  So 
delightfully  soft,  never 
artificial  looking.  And 
this  fine  cream  keeps 
powder  fresh  for  hours." 


I-Minute  Mask  clears  ofF 
dulling  dead  skin 
Lightens  . . .  brightens  . . .  softens  skin! 

Now — Pond's  brings  you  a  remarkable  at-home 
treatment  that  clears  off  the  stubborn  clinging 
dirt  and  dead  skin  particles  that  dull  your  skin. 

~^    Cover  your  face,  except  eyes,  with  a  lavish 
1-Minute  Mask  of  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream. 
Its  "keratoiytic"  action  loosens  dried,  dead 
skin  cells — dissolves  them  off!  After  1  minute, 
tissue  clean.  Then  see  how,  in  60  seconds,  this 
amazingly  effective  facial  has  brought  new 
brightness,  lightness,  freshness  to  yoOr  skin! 

SEE — on  your  hands — the  "keratoiytic"  action  of  Pond''s 
Vanithing  Cream!  See  chappings  and  ragged  cuticle  soften, 
dissolve  right  off.  Hands  look  silky-smooth,  whiter! 


Tllfe:  LIMIT^i  OF  PUBMC- 
M  HOOL  EDITI  ATION 

(Continued  from  Page  14) 

according  to  income;  the  dissipation  of  the 
teachers'  energies  through  extracurricular 
work;  the  opposition  of  pafents  to  studies 
that  are  not  of  the  most  obvious  vocational 
use— these  and  many  other  things  are  not 
faults  of  "progressive  education,"  though 
some  of  Ihem  are  involved  in  it. 

And  although  teachers  complain  that  the 
trouble  is  in  the  homes,  attitudes  against 
"suppressing"  child  "individuality"  exist 
in  the  homes,  too,  where  many  parents,  with 
fear  of  Willy's  sensitive  psyche,  bring  up 
their  children— or  fail  to  bring  them  up— in 
a  condition  of  unregulated  anarchy,  demand- 
ing no  performance  of  duties,  or  even  con- 
sideration and  simple  courtesy. 

But  it  would  seem  to  me  that  if,  as  re- 
ported, there  is  more  than  usual  disorder 
and  lack  of  discipline  in  the  American  home, 
the  greater  the  effort  should  be  made  to  in- 
troduce them  into  the  schools. 

A  feature  of  our  education  is  emphasis  on 
pedagogical  method,  on  techniques  of  teach- 
ing. May  it  not  be  an  overemphasis? 

i%LL  professions  require  methodology,  but 
gi;eat  teachers,  even  good  teachers,  are  not 
automatically  created  by  learning  tech- 
niques of  teaching.  Teaching  is  the  art  of 
transferring  knowledge  from  one  who  pos- 
sesses it  to  those  who  do  not.  By  whatever 
methods  it  may  be  performed,  it  requires 
certain  conditions,  apart  from  techniques. 
One  of  these  is  that  the  pupil  accept  the 
authority  of  the  teacher.  This  is  not  tanta- 
mount to  saying  that  teaching  should  be 
authorilarian.  But  as  no  physician  can  aid  a 
patient  who  does  not  accept  that  the  doctor 
knows  more  than  he  does,  so  the  teacher 
must  hold,  in  the  classroom,  a  superior  posi- 
tion, intellectually  and  morally.  This  au- 
thority cannot  be  established  by  routine 
regulations,  such  as  "Stand  up  when  teacher 
enters  the  room."  But  certain  rituals  of  re- 
spectfulness, even  if  automatically  per- 
formed, help  as  visible  symbols  of  the  rela- 
tionship. The  cozy  familiarity,  even  imper- 
tinence, permitted  or  encouraged  in  some 
schools  undermines  the  natural  relationship 
of  authority  without  putting  any  other  real 
and  honest  relationship  in  its  place. 

But  although  proprieties  help,  real  au- 
thority is  established  by  knowledge,  affec- 
tion, firmness  and  justice — above  all  by 
justice.  No  creature  is  more  sensitive  to  in- 
justice than  a  child. 

But  justice  not  only  implies  that  mjustice 
will  not  be  done,  but  that  justice  ivill  be  done, 
and  justice  assumes  a  judge,  as  it  assumes 
the  existence  of  laws.  It  cannot  be  exercised 
by  a  "people's  tribunal"  of  the  pupils.  And  if 
children  can  "get  away  with  murder,"  they 
realize,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  that 
an  order  of  law  and  of  natural  relationships 
has  broken  down.  They  are  adrift,  not  know- 
ing what  they  can  count  on. 

Children  are  quick  to  spot  any  trace  of 
weakness,  meanness  or  incompetence  in 
their  elders.  Instinctively  they  want  to  re- 
spect their  elders  and  accept  their  authority. 
Children  are  realistic  and  unsentimental. 
They  know  they  are  weak,  and  they  gravi- 
tate toward  strength,  if  it  is  real  strength — 
strength  of  character.  The  character  of  the 
teacher  counts  more  in  the  classroom,  as  in 
the  home,  than  any  other  factor  of  authority. 

Intellectual  av'hority  derives  from  the 
teacher's  knowledge  of  and  enthusiasm  for  the 
subject  matter  he  or  she  is  presuming  to 
teach.  There  can  certainly  be  no  schooling 
without  subject  matter.  Again,  knowledge 
cannot  be  transmitted  merely  or  chiefly  by 
pedagogical  techniques— nor  are  there  any 
one  or  several  definable  techniques— and  it 
cannot  be  transmitted  at  all,  unless  it  exists. 
Teachers  who  are  not,  themselves,  filled  with 
knowledge  of  and  enthusiasm  for  their  sub- 
ject matter  will  never  inspire  a  response 
from  their  pupils. 

In  recalling  my  own  school  days  I  cannot 
remember  even  the  names  of  most  of  my 
teachers,  but  I  remember  the  names,  faces 


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Its  real  beauty.  At  drug  counters 
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iiiul  very  KfHliirfH  of  evi-ry  oru-  of  tlu  iii  wli<i 
lr:insiiiiiud  fiilliusiiimii  rii.iv  wjih  a  I.aiin 
tciiclur  who  so  olwiously  Ixlu  vcd  Latin  Hit- 
nioHl  K'lorioiiH  laiiKUiiKi-  in  itu-  world  itiai  In- 
li:i(l  us  all  transialinti  I.aliii  into  KriKlinh 
vtTse,  and  vice  vers;i.  TliiTe  was  an  KiikIisIi 
It-acliLT  whosi-  loalhinn  of  spin  inliniiivfH. 
nouns  us»  d  as  ve  rbs,  and  smKular  vt-rlw  fol- 
lowinn  iilural  allrilniics  and  vin-  vrrsii.  was 
■ilniosl  :i|x)|)lcrlic-,  (Never  nund  wliellier 
spill  inlmilives  are  really  oulraKi^ius.  Win- 
ston C'luirclull  uses  lliem  all  tlie  liine.i  Hut 
lliis  ineinoiiilile  teacher  was  a  Knardian  of 
the  KiiKlish  laiiKuaKe.  exercising  the  inilitani 
lidelily  of  one  who  seemed  to  U'lieve  lh:il  its 
very  preserv;ition  deix-nded  \\\nm  hiinsell 
and  the  pupils  he  would  s<iid  out  into  the 
world.  Kven  when  he  dreHsed  us  down,  ;is  he 
oflen  did,  it  was  in  a  lant.;iiaKe  so  elegant  and 
elo(|uenl  as  lo  fx.-  a  pleasure  lo  hear,  rather 
like  a  linguistic  jeremiad.  There  was  even 
a  teacher  who  managed  to  |)enelrale  my  dim 
malhematiciil  wits  with  the  ulimpso  of  some 
Imttdy  in  Kfometric  forms  and  aluebrjiic 
eciualions,  and  under  her  I  not  the  only  fairly 
K(K)d  marks,  considerably  above  "passing  " 
I  ever  received  or  deserved  in  a  math  class. 

Il  is  l(K)  much  lo  expect  many  such  teach- 
ers in  the  profession  or  many  such  talents 
in  any  profession  Tlicir  metiiods  were  their 


Next  to  the  very  young,  I  luppoie 
the  very  old  are  the  mott  lelflih. 

-WILLIAM  IM.  THACKERAY 


own  and  inimilable  and  seemed  lo  consist 
wiiolly  of  the  |X)wer  lo  transfer  IhouKhl 
vvilhout  effort,  and  evoke  it  in  return. 

But  the  present  system  discourages  such 
originals,  and  I  am  convinced  tiial  with  its 
overeitiphasis  on  pcdanon'cal  technic)ues.  it 
sUilliftes  even  the  Kifts  that  arc  latent  in  the 
average  members  of  the  profession. 

It  is  all  very  well  lo  defend  the  "in- 
dividuality" of  the  child,  and  the  "academic 
freedom"  of  faculties,  bul  how  ah)oul  the  in- 
dividuality and  the  freedom  of  the  teacher, 
«.s  a  teacher? 

Modern  pedagogical  theories  and  lech- 
niques  were  originally  introduced  as  a  revolt 
against  previous  conventions.  But  by  now 
Ihey  have  become  so  conventionalized  and 
conformist  that  a  teacher  opposes  Ihem  at 
the  risk  of  his  or  her  career.  "Patterns"  of 
education  are  set  by  teachers  of  teachers, 
rather  than  by  teachers  of  children,  with 
an  administrative  bureaucracy  upholding 
what  might  be  called  a  teaching  theology.  So. 
while  children  often  run  wild  in  classrooms 
expressing  their  individualities,  the  teachers 
are  stripped  of  their  own  individualities  and 
therefore  of  their  talent  and  authority.  They 
are  reduced  lo  being  faithful  cogs  in  and 
slaves  of  the  "pattern." 

The  highly  ironical  result  is  that  American 
public  education,  supposedly  the  "most  free 
in  the  wwld."  is  not  cultivating  free  inquiring 
minds  among  either  teachers  or  their  pupils. 
Il  has  settled  into  a  mold  of  custom,  turning 
out  youngsters  who,  ihough  Ihey  have 
never  learned  anything  thoroughly,  have 
opinions  on  everything  in  general,  which  as- 
tonishingly turn  out  lo  be  the  same  opin- 
ions, the  slogans  of  their  mentalities  as  alike 
as  the  jeans,  shirts  and  hx)bby  socks  ihey  all 
wear — and  as  sloppy.  The  "pattern."  in 
which  the  authority  and  freedom  of  the 
teacher  are  reaching  the  vanishing  point, 
creates  delinquents  to  the  authorities  out- 
side the  school  (and  the  home),  in  life,  w^here 
the  youngster  still  thinks,  quite  erroneously, 
that  he  is  the  center  to  which  everything  else 
must  adjust  itself.  Or,  out  of  frustrated  hun- 
ger for  authority,  our  youth  are  attracted  to 
totalitarian  ideas  and  movements. 

For  it  is  paradoxical  but  true  that  al- 
though children  and  youth  can  be  drum- 
majored  into  blind  obedience,  the  human 
stuff  out  of  which  totalitarian  societies  are 
made,  they  can  be  prepared  for  the  same 
submissiveness  by  the  total  lack  of  author- 
ity, by  moral  and  intellectual  anarchy, 
whose  offspring  is  tyranny.         the  end 


These  Lovely  Powers  Girls 
.iro  Also  Gavla  Girls 


Want  to  be  a  Gayla  Girl  with  the  chic,  "never-a-hair- 
out-of-piace"  look  of  an  attention-getting  Powers 
Model?  It's  so,  so  simple.  Just  use  the  bobby  pins 
the  Powers  Models  use— Gayla  HOLD-BOB.  Be- 
cause of  their  exclusive  patented  spring  action,  they 
glide  into  your  hair  and  hold  more  securely  than 
any  other  bobby  pin.  Be  a  Gayla  Girl — get  Gayla 
HOLD-BOB  and  get  the  Gayla  Girl  look. 


2Uir>of|(cinunKI> 

Alio  Gvoilobl*  in  3SC  cords 


Are  You  Sure  Your  Hair  Style  Is  the  Most  Becoming  to  You? 

Your  hairdo  may  not  be  doing  you  justice!  There's  one  way  to  find  out  .  .  . 
consult  the  Gayla  Girls  Glamour  Guide  (prepared  by  John  Robert  Powers). 
In  seconds  this  hair  style  selector  may  open  up  a  new  world  of  happiness 
to  you.  Clip  the  coupon  below.  We'll  send  it.  When  you  receive  your  Gayla 
Girls  Glamour  Guide  you'll  be  able  to  "Dial-.^-Style"  to  enhance  your  in- 
dividual beauty.  It's  easy! 


HOLDBOB 


® 


America's  Largest  Selling  Bobby  Pin 


Gaylord  Products.  Incorporated,  Dept.  J-4 
1918  Prairie  .\ve.,  Chicago  16.  lU. 

Enclosed  is  10*  and  the  top  of  a  Gayla  HOLD-BOB  card. 
Please  send  my  Gayla  Girls  Glamour  Guide. 

Name  


.\ddress_ 
Citv  


_Zo.ni 


-Sta'e_ 


©  1953,  G.P.I. 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  19S3 


ask  the  man: 

^^can  it  sew  on  buttons  without  attachments?' 


can 


rnonogrami 


you 

do  all  these  sewing  jobs  without  attachment 

on  the  amazin 


Don't  be  fooled  by  fancy  samples  and 
fancy  talk.  Make  sure  the  sewing  machine 
you  buy  does  everything  you  want  it  to. 
Ask  the  man:  "Can  it  sew  on  buttons  without 
attachments?"  That's  the  way  to  be  sure 
you  get  a  really  modern  machine.  The  sewing  machine 
Grandma  bought  was  fine  for  Grandma;  she  had 
no  choice.  But  you  have.  Don't  buy  until  you've  seen 
the  Necchi,  the  amazing  machine  that  saves 
you  time  and  monev  because  it  sews  on  buttons,  makes 
buttonholes,  monograms,  embroiders,  appliques, 
^^gpSo^^iSSjv.  even  blind-stitches  hems  and  overcasts  seams — ' 
GuuGiitejdby^  without  attachments.  There's  a 

Good  Hoasekeepmg  J 

NVcchi-Elna  Sewing  Circle  in  your  neighborhood.  Go  in  and  get  a  free  demonstration. 


NECCH 


NECCHI  SEWING  MACHINE  SALES  CORP.,  it>«  w  2Sth  st..  n.  y  i.  n.  v.  •  37B0  so  hill  st  .  los  angeles  7,cal.  •  sis  w.  webster  st..  Chicago  i4.  ill  •  464  mcgill  st..  Montreal,  p.  c 


vol    SIIOI  I  II  KMiiW  ALL  Tlll!^  \ltOI 


14   \N<  I  It 


lernal  cancers  :iic  iclalivcly  easy  to  di- 
K)so  because  Ihey  can  be  seen  and  the 
liolonisl  can  (lelcrmine  Iheir  malignancy 
Jer  a  microscope.  New  instriimeiUs,  X- 
■  lechni(|iies  aiul  I'apanicolaii  smears  have 
Movetl  I  he  diagnosis  of  inlernal  cancers. 
I'orlunalely  and  it  would  be  invaki- 
e    lliereis  no  simple  blood  or  urine  Icsl. 


Iiat  kinds  of  cancer 

e  most  frequent  in  women? 

3reast  cani'er  ;iii<l  eaiucr  ol  ihc  icpio- 
:tive  organs. 

cancer  more  frequent 
women? 

Mo.  .lusl  as  many  men  t;ct  cancer  as  do 
men. 

there  anything 
;n  can  do  to  help  themselves 
tect  cancer? 

fcs,  for  the  very  frequent  cancer  of  the 
istate  gland,  a  significant  symptom  for 
n  over  fifty  is  any  difficulty  they  may 
.'e  in  urinating.  In  a  large  percentage  of 
es  the  condition  will  be  benign,  but  any 
n  of  this  age  who  has  such  difiiculty 
luld  see  a  doctor  immediately.  Another 
y  simple  test  for  men  is  X  ray  of  the  chest 
lung  cancer. 

^ere  can  I  get 
cancer  examination  ? 

)ne  of  the  aims  of  the  American  Cancer 
:iety  is  to  keep  every  doctor  in  the  coun- 

informed  of  the  latest  advances  against 
icer  so  that  "every  doctor's  office  will  be 
ancer-prevention  clinic."  If  you  have  any 
.^stions  about  how  to  find  a  good  doctor, 

secretary  of  your  county  medical  society 

I  be  glad  to  advise  you.  In  addition,  many 
es  have  detection  clinics  available. 

)W  can  a  doctor 

II  a  patient,  "You  have  only 

[  months  or  a  year  to  live"? 

Mo  doctor  can  actually  make  such  a  fore- 
t.  He  may  make  a  guess  by  comparing 


(Conliiiufil  Iriim  I'ner  S  h 

one  case  with  (itiuTH  he  ban  known,  but  can- 
cer  lakes  so  many  different  pallm  thai  it  jw 
difficult  to  prrdici 


What  Is  the  best 
to  treat  cancer? 


way 


There  is  no  "i)esl"  way,  slncf  every  can- 
cer is  so  (hfferenl.  The  only  definite  cures 
have  Ix-en  by  surgery  or  radiation.  Hor- 
mones and  some  of  the  new  cheinicils  have 
brought  alxnit  improvements  in  the  iki- 
tienl's  condition,  but  none  of  these  has  vei 
effected  a  cure. 


What  about  the  cost 
of  cancer  treatments? 

Radical  surgery  or  radiation  may  make 
cancer  treatment  fairly  ex|K'nsive.  SiK-cial 
arrangements,  however,  can  often  be  made 
with  doctors  or  hospitals. 

Why  are  doctors 

so  reluctant  to  say  "cure" 

in  connection  with  cancer? 

Because  cancer  is  such  a  deceptive  disease. 
All  signs  of  it  may  be  gone  and  then  sud- 
denly, sometimes  a  great  many  years  later, 
the  malignant  condition  will  reappear.  The 
most  any  doctor  will  claim  is  a  "five  year" 
cure. 

Haven't  some  cancers, 
called  fatal,  been  cured? 

There  are  reports  of  spontaneous  cures, 
and  doctors  performing  posl-morlems  have 
found  the  remains  of  what  must  have  once 
been  malignant  conditions.  The  theory  here 
is  that  the  cures  were  brought  about  by  some 
unexplained  change  in  the  body's  environ- 
ment. 

How  can  I  recognize 

a  "quack"  cancer  doctor? 

Any  person  who  announces,  at  this  lime, 
that  he  has  a  "secret  remedy"  may,  without 
question,  be  called  a  quack.  You  can  easily 
find  out  about  such  people  by  questioning 
the  county  medical  society,  the  American 
Cancer  Society,  or  the  U.  S.  Public  Health 


Servia:. 
claimH 


wlwi  have  i-licckttl  ofi  all  kucIi 


"His  little  brain  starts  working  the  minute  he  gets  up  in 
the  morning  and  never  stops  until  he  gets  to  school. 


Won't   ACTH   <i  ii  d 
cortisone  cure  caricer? 

I  lie  reteiil  piililaily  Kiveii  tliiKC  liormumit 
liaHonly  Ixen  about  ilu  ir  elfeti  «m  the  Hyinj)- 
liinw  of  cancer.  W'liiic-  iIiih  Iuih  Ix-i-n  dranuitic, 

It  rloesii't  const  It  iile  ;i  ciiri- 

t\  there  any   way  that 
doctors  can  cure  leukemia? 

I^'ukemia  cures  have  l)Cfn  re|)«»rtttl  in 
adults,  but  in  children,  so  far,  the  fliseast-  ih 
:ilw;iys  fatal.  Cortisone  and  a  k'.roup  of  chem- 
ical" called  the  aniifolu  acirls  have,  in  many 
cliilrlren,  caused  rapid  disiipinarance  of  the 
symptoms.  So  far  tins  has  only  Ix  en  an  illu- 
sion, although  it  may  last  as  long  as  fifteen 
months.  S(X)ner  or  later,  in  children,  leii- 
ki-inia  will  always  reapjx  ar. 

What  about  surgery 
as  a  cancer  cure? 

Surgery  is  the  most  elTeclive  Irealmenl  for 
many  kinds  of  ameer.  Today  o|Kralions  of 
tile  breast  are  more  than  KO  \x  r  cent  success- 
fill,  if  undertaken  in  lime,  while  the  disease  is 
confined  to  the  breast.  Radical  ojKTations  in 
other  locations  are  undertaken  now  lhal 
wouldn't  have  been  considered  five  years 
ago.  The  obviously  im|X)rlanl  ajnsideration 
IS  lhal  the  surgery  be  undertaken  befcjre  the 
cancer  has  spread.  New  plastic-surgery  tech- 
niques have  been  developed  to  conceal  un- 
sightly scars  caused  by  cancer  surgery. 

Can  I  live  a  normal  life 
after  the  removal  of  a  breast 
or  after  a  hysterectomy? 

Certainly.  You  can  still  have  children 
after  the  removal  of  a  breast,  and  normal 
sexual  relations  are  still  possible  after  either 

oj^eration. 

Will  radiation  hurt  me? 

X-ray  or  radium  treatments  may  cause 
skm  tanning  or  nausea,  but  the.se  are  tem- 
porary and  certainly  preferable  to  the  certain 
outcome  if  no  treatment  is  taken.  New  ir- 
radiation machinery  now  pinpoints  pre- 
viously inaccessible  deep-sealed  cancers.  It 
causes  much  less  skin  damage,  much  less 
nausea,  and  can  be  used  on  patients  who 
have  already  absorbed  as  much  conventional 
radiation  as  thev  can  stand. 


What  are  the  cures 

for  cancer  of  the  prostate? 

Men  suffering  from  cancer  of  the  prostate 
liave  been  treated  with  female  hormones  and 
surgery  in  remissions  lasting  many  years. 

Will  cancer  ever 
be  really  curable? 

Certainly.  There  is  no  doubt  about  this  at 
all  in  the  researchers'  minds.  \\\lh  what  is 
already  known,  50  per  cent  of  Ih.c  cases  could 
be  cured  if  they  were  discovered  in  time.  The 
cause  of  cancer  may  be  as  complex  as  the 
cause  of  life  itself.  A  cure  for  it  may  t>e  dis- 
covered long  before  the  cause  is  understood. 
But,  without  question,  the  facts  will  one  day 
be  unraveled  and  another  milestone  will  be 
reached  in  man's  long  fight  to  control  his  own 
destiny. 

Cancer  strikes  one  in  five.  Strike  back  by  giving 
generously  to  the  American  Cancer  Society's 
April  campaign.  Mail  your  contribution  to 
CANCER,  care  of  your  local  post  office. 


wiHMi  iiiiir  loses 


that 


brings  out  natural 

"life"  and  sparkle... 
conditions  even 

problem  hair! 

The  one  and  only  shampoo 
made  with  homogenized  fresh, 
whole  egg  which  contains 
precious  cholesterol. 

ALBUMEN  and  LECITHIN. 

See  for  yourself  how  this 
conditioning  shampoo  enhances 
the  natural  "vital  look"  of  your 
hair— gives  it  maximum  gloss 
and  super-sparkle. 

You'll  find  your  hair  wonder- 
fully manageable— with  the 
caressabie,  silky  texture  that  is 
every  woman's  dream.  Try 
Helene  Curtis  Shampoo  Plus  Egg 
today.  You'll  be  delighted 
that  you  did. 


Available  at 
All  Drug  Stores, 
Cosmetic  Counters 
and  Beauty  Salons 


10 


LILLIAN  BASSMAN 


By  DAWN  CROWELL  NORMAN 

Beauty  Editor  of  the  Journal 

Which  make-up  and  clothes  flatter  you  most?  Our  color 
sufigestions  null  help  you  make  prettiest  choices  for  your  oivri 

complexion.  Whether  you  are  a  dashing  brunette,  a  delicate 
blonde,  or  any  where  in  between — take  some  tips  from  our  beauty 

basics  suggested  on  this  page  for  greeting  the  new  season. 


Vivid  brunette?  Winter-fair  skin 

takes  a  new  cue,  to  gold  or  honey-tan. 

Treat  yourself  to  a  delicate  setting  in  sum- 
mer. Trade  the  sharp  bright  colors  of  winter 
(they  dramatize  fair  complexions  but  often 
look  harsh  against  darkened  skin)  in  favor 
of  softer  counterparts — watermelon  pink, 
clear  coral,  sparkling  turquoise.  Use  lots  of 
white:  in  jewelry,  in  gloves,  in  a  starchy 
pique  dress!  For  summer  afternoons,  choose 
a  flower-garden  color — delphinium  blue  or 
buttercup  yellow. 

Easy  with  make-up.  Try  a  colorless  pro- 
tective base,  a  dusting  of  powder  to  match 
your  tan.  Avoid  dark  brown  or  orange- 
tinted  shades.  Except  for  blue  reds,  almost 
any  lipstick  will  be  flattering.  For  evening, 
tint  your  eyelids  with  a  pale,  pretty  shadow. 
Side-step  a  fussy  hairdo,  and  you'll  be  a 
dark-haired  summer  beauty  wl  o  looks  sleek 
and  cool  and  feminine — all  at  once! 


Brownette  .  .  .  serene  setting  for  all 

clear,  bright,  most-becoming  colors. 

If  your  eyes  are  light,  heighten  their  ef- 
fect by  wearing  vivid  seashore  blues  and 
greens.  Deep,  pinky  reds  will  put  color  in 
your  cheeks!  Wear  a  flower  wreath  in  your 
hair  ...  a  boutonniere  of  red  carnations  at 
the  neck  of  a  white  linen  dress.  Here's  a 
trick:  When  you  put  on  pink  or  coral  lip- 
stick, outline  your  lips  with  a  deeper  shade 
for  a  more  definite  lip  line.  In  face  powders, 
avoid  yellow  shades — ideal  for  you  is  a 
peach  or  pink  undertone. 

Brown-eyed  brownettes  are  sure  to  look 
lovely  in  almost  any  shade  of  pink.  Mix 
topaz  with  white.  Wear  a  hair  ribbon  or 
carry  a  silk  handkerchief  in  bright  pimento 
or  persimmon.  Under  the  glow  of  electric 
lights,  soft  chartreuse  or  lemon  yellow  can 
turn  you  into  an  evening  beauty.  Brown 
mascara  for  your  dark  eyes — just  a  touch! 


Blond  hair,  a  li>oly  air  .  .  . 

the  world  smiles  when  you  pass  by. 

You  are  a  sunny  blonde,  skin  a  warm 
pinky  brown.  Choose  colors  that  extend  the 
cheerful  setting  Nature  has  provided  for 
you!  Wear  mimosa  yellow,  emerald  green, 
orange  ice.  Have  one  special  dress  in  a 
skin-flattering  color — apricot  or  cornsilk. 
Brighten  sun-bleached  eyelashes  and  brows 
with  a  touch  of  golden-brown  mascara. 
Shadow  your  eyelids  with  clear  greens  or 
blues. 

You  are  a  medium  or  ash  blonde.  Pastel 
pinks  and  blues  (which  may  look  colorless 
in  winter)  bring  new  delight  now  that  your 
sun-tinted  skin  gives  them  character. 
"Cherry"  and  ''geranium"  describe  your  best 
reds.  Your  powder  ranges  from  bisque  to  a 
warm  beige.  Wear  mauve  to  look  delicate 
and  dashing  at  the  same  time. 


Ik- 
0m 


For  a  redhead  with  orange  or  copper  high  lights: 

surprise  accessory  in  a  color  a  close  match  to  your  hair. 


Red  hair  with  high  lights,  fair  skin  .  .  . 
wonderful  things  happen  when  you  use 
sandy  beige  or  silver  gray  as  a  basic  color. 
Add  a  single  note  of  brilliance — ribbon,  a 
stole,  a  scarf  at  your  waist  in  lemon  yellow, 
coral  or  electric  blue.  Try  chalk-white 
jewelry  for  drama.  To  mute  freckles,  a 


creamy  beige  make-up  with  peach  under- 
tone. Gold  red  for  your  lips. 

If  the  red  in  your  hair  runs  to  auburn, 
visualize  yourself  in  pale  pink  linen,  or 
mauve,  or  ice  blue.  These  colors  strike  up 
a  glow  in  milky-white  skin.  Lipstick  a 
garnet  red— touch  eyelids  with  palest  green. 


I    \  II   I  I 


I        I    .  .    I     I,         \  I 


n  U(yvL  See  -fii§H.un| 
Wee 


foot-easing  comfort  like  this 
in  the  same  pair  of  shoes 


local  newspapers  on 


ENNA  JETTICK  SHOES,  INC.,  Auburn,  N.  Y. 

March  19th,  20th,  22nd,  23rd  or  24th  for  advertisements  of  stores  carrying  the  NEW  ENNA  JETTICKS 


130 


LADIES"       II    O    M    I-.       I    O    U    R    N    \  L 


April.  i'lS. 


They  Could 
Sell  Tickets 

ForThisl 


FAIR.HON^Y!  )    J  DICK, WHEN  YOU 
AT  LEAST  TELL  A        LOVE  A  MAN,  ITS  EASIER ' 
TO  FI6HT  THAN  TO  ASK 

HIM  TO  SEE  HIS 
DENTIST  A80UT-AB0UT ' 
BAD  BREATH ! 


GUY  WHAT  THE 
FIGHT'S  about! 


TO  STOP  BAD  BREATH,  I  RECOMMEND 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM.  BRUSHING  TEETH  RIGHT 
AFTER  EATING  WITH  COUSATE'S  MAKES  YOUR 
MOUTH  FEEL  CLEANER  LONGER-GIVES  YOU 
A  CLEAN,  FRESH  MOUTH  ALL  DAY  LONG! 


And  Colgate's  has  proved  conclusively  that  brush- 
ing teeth  right  after  eating  stops  tooth  decay 
best!  In  fact,  the  Colgate  way  stopped  more  decay 

■  for  more  people  than  ever  before  reported  in 

jj^  all  dentifrice  history! 


LATBK — Thanks  to  Colgafa  Dantal  Cream 


Brushing  Teeth  Right  After  Eating  with 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

STOPS 
BAD  BREATH 

STOPS  DECAY! 

Colgate's  instantly  stops  bad  breath  in  7  out  of  10 
cases  that  originate  in  the  mouth!  And  the  Colgate 
way  of  brushing  teeth  right  after  eating  is  the 
best  home  method  known  to  help  stop  tooth  decay  I 


RIBBON  PENTAt 


IT  CLEANS  YOUR  BREATH  WHILE  IT 
CLEANS  YOUR  TEETH! 


DECLIISE  AI^D  FALL 

(Conlhiued  from  Page  47) 


Sacheverells  kept  so  many  servants,  and  re- 
ceived so  many  callers,  that  Harriet  (with 
no  natural  taste  for  ministering)  was  always 
letting  someone  else  plump  Laura's  cushions, 
or  read  to  Laura  aloud,  or  even  pour  Laura's 
port.  At  Bognor,  both  servants  and  callers 
would  be  fewer.  In  Portland  Place  Harriet 
was  always  protesting  that  there  was  nothing 
she  could  do  for  Laura,  because  everything 
was  done;  at  Bognor,  in  the  natural  discom- 
fort of  seaside  lodgings,  she  would  find 
plenty  

Laura  smiled  her  wonderful,  almost  saintly 
smile.  "Very  well,  mamma,  if  you  think  best. 
Of  course  we  should  take  the  carriage?" 

"Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Sacheverell. 

"Then  if  you  think  it  best,  let  us  go.  Let 
us  go  as  soon  as  possible,  while  I  still  have 
the  strength." 

Mrs.  Sacheverell  kissed  her  tenderly  and 
at  once  sat  down  to  write  a  letter  to  the 
lodgings.  They  were  the  best  in  Bognor,  rec- 
ommended by  a  countess.  The  packing  occu- 
pied a  week;  linen  and  bedding,  and  Laura's 
special  sofa,  were  dispatched  in  advance,  by 
rail;  and  Mrs.  Sacheverell  was  just  about  to 
put  the  servants  on  board  wages,  when  Har- 
riet upset  every  arrangement  by  refusing  to 
leave  London. 

Her  a'osurd  reason  was  that  the  term  at 
Queen's  College  had  only  just  begun.  She 
said  her  education  was  more  important  than 
the  trip.  She  talked,  in  short,  just  as  tliough 
she  were  a  young  man;  and  though  Mrs. 
Sacheverell  at  once  pointed  out  the  fallacy, 
Harriet,  at  seventeen,  was  a  good  deal  more 
strong-willed  than  her  mother  at  forty.  Not 
for  the  first  time  Mrs.  Sacheverell  thought 
longingly  of  her  late  husband —a  pater- 
familias of  the  true  Roman  breed;  but  Mr. 
Sacheverell  was  five  years  in  the  grave,  and 
all  that  remained  of  him  (besides,  of  course, 
an  enormous  amount  of  money)  was  this 
obstinate  streak  in  his  second  daughter.  Har- 
riet refused  to  budge;  and  Aunt  Ricardo 
had  to  be  summoned  all  the  way  from 
Ipswich  to  chaperon  her  in  Portland  Place. 

"  I  think  it  extremely  heartless,"  said  Laura 
quietly.  But  so  gentle  was  iier  nature,  so 
strong  her  wish  to  depart  in  charity  witli  all 
the  world,  that  at  the  moment  of  leaving  she 
drew  off  her  diamond  ring  and  tried  to  slip 
it  on  Harriet's  finger. 

"What's  this  for?"  asked  Harriet, 
brusquely  withdrawing  her  hand. 

Laura  smiled  so  angelically  tiiat  the  sec- 
ond footman,  waiting  to  support  her  into  the 
carriage,  turned  quite  pale.  "For  remem- 
brance, darling.  It's  to  go  to  your  eldest 
daughter." 

"Nonsense."  said  Harriet,  more  brusquely 
still.  "You'll  come  back  fit  as  a  fiddle.  Be- 
sides, if  you  must  give  me  something,  I 
would  rather  have  your  riding  habit." 

Laura  had  absolutely  to  turn  away  her 
face.  The  new  riding  habit— in  which  Cousin 
Charles  had  so  much  admired  her— had  been 
packed  away  by  her  own  hands  as  soon  as 
she  knew  she  would  never  wear  it  again ;  was 
it  now  to  be  unpacked  by  Harriet's?  No, 
decided  Laura,  ^he  thinks  too  much  oj  Tiding 
as  it  is ;  mamma  would  not  wish  her  to  have  it. 
But  though  too  much  upset  to  speak,  she 
gave  Harriet  a  tender  kiss,  and  held  her 
handkerchief  to  the  carriage  window. 

Even  the  farewells  were  marred,  for  as 
Harriet  stood  on  the  steps  a  gust  of  wind 
caught  her  skirts  and  swept  them  all  about. 
"Bother  this  crinoline!"  she  cried,  retreat- 
ing; and  the  door  banged  loudly.  That  might 
have  been  the  wind,  too,  but  both  Laura  and 
Mrs.  Sacheverell  were  pretty  sure  it  was 
Harriet. 

They  did  not  make  the  journey  in  one 
stage.  The  horses,  as  well  as  Laura,  needed 
a  break;  and  so  the  first  night  was  spent  at 
Horsham,  at  the  famous  George  and  Crown 
Inn.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  com- 
plete than  their  quarters  there:  double  bed- 
room for  Mrs,  Sacheverell  and  daughter, 
closet  for  their  maid,  and  downstairs  the  Red 
Parlor  (private)  to  take  meals  in.  So  com- 
fortable were  they,  in  fact,  that  Mrs.  Sach- 


everell, seeing  Laura  still  greatly  fatigued, 
decided  to  stay  a  second  night  as  well.  .  .  . 
Fatal,  fateful  delay!  Actually  as  they  fin- 
ished their  second  breakfast,  but  an  hour 
before  setting  out  anew,  they  were  overtaken 
by  an  express  letter  from  Aunt  Ricardo. 

Mrs.  Sacheverell  read  it,  and  paled.  The 
news  contained  therein  was  so  appalling  that 
she  quite  (though  only  momentarily)  forgot 
Laura's  delicate  state.  She  was  so  shocked 
herself,  she  shocked  Laura  too. 

"Your  sister  Harriet,"  cried  Mrs.  Sach- 
everell uncontrollably,  "has  become  a 
Bloomer!" 

Her  Ondula  crinoline  billowing  in  graceful 
folds,  Laura  fainted  upon  the  sofa.  It  took 
ten  minutes,  and  burned  feathers,  to  bring 
her  round.  "Tell  me  all,  mamma,"  she  mur- 
mured fr'ntly. 

Mrs.  Sacheverell  moistened  her  lips.  "On 
Monday  night— the  very  night  we  left!— it 
seems  there  was  a  demonstration  at  the 
Marylebone  Theater.  Your  sister  appeared 
on  the  platform  " 

"On  the  platform!"  moaned  Laura. 

"  in  a  cream  overskirt,  green  sash  and 

bonnet,  and— and  cream  bloomers.  Next 
Sunday"— Mrs.  Sacheverell's  voice  rose  to 
a  wail  — "she  intends  to  walk  in  Hyde  Park 
in  the  same  costume." 

"Mamma,"  breathed  Laura  faintly,  "stop 
her!  Don't  think  of  me,  think  of  Harriet!" 

^l%^HAT  a  cruel  predicament  was  now  Mrs. 
Sacheverell's— one  child  at  death's  door,  the 
other  a  Bloomer!  But  Harriet  for  once  took 
precedence;  neither  mother  nor  sister  had 
the  least  doubt  of  it.  With  every  possible  in- 
junction for  her  elder  daughter's  comfort  to 
landlord,  landlady,  servants  and  waiters, 
Mrs.  Sacheverell  took  I  lie  carriage  back  to 
town.  Laura  couldn't  possibly  accompany 
her— she  couldn't  even  get  off  the  sofa— so 
she  had  to  be  left.  The  maid,  of  course, 
stayed,  too,  but  it  was  still  a  very  dreadful 
situation,  and  Mrs.  Sacheverell's  only  com- 
fort lay  in  the  belief  that  it  could  not  last 
longer  than  twenty-four  hours.  She  was  sim- 
ply going  to  fetch  Harriet  away,  without 
argument  or  scolding  (that  could  come 
later),  and  be  back  with  her  in  Horsham  by 
dinnertime  next  day. 

So  promised  Mrs.  Sacheverell,  turning 
back  for  the  last  time  at  the  door  of  the 
private  parlor.  Laura  speechlessly  raised  a 
pale  hand  and  touched  it  to  her  lips,  in  a 
pathetic  gesture  of  farewell. 

The  lonely  morning  wore  on.  Naturally 
Laura  took  no  luncheon.  In  the  afternoon 
she  slept  a  little.  Her  maid  brought  her  a 
tea  tray,  drew  curtains  against  the  dusk,  lit 
candles,  stirred  the  fire.  She  would  have 
stayed  and  kept  her  mistress  company,  but 
Laura  preferred  solitude.  .  .  .  Solitude  and  a 
novel,  in  fact;  for  though  she  had  intended 
to  spend  the  next  few  hours  weeping,  an  idly 
glanced-at  page  caught  her  fancy,  and  she 
read  instead. 

The  room  was  quite  comfortable.  It  was 
warm,  and  quiet,  and  the  candles  were  well 
placed.  It  was  even  very  comfortable.  ...  It 
was  also  hers. 

And  now,  presently,  glancing  up  from  her 
book.  Laura  became  aware  of  a  strange  sen- 
sation: half  pleasurable,  half  alarming,  such 
as  she  had  never  experienced  before.  It  made 
her  look  at  the  private  sitting  room,  at  the 
cream  jug  on  the  tray,  even  at  her  own  shawl 
on  the  sofa,  with  new  eyes.  It  made  her 
stretch  out  her  hand  and  ring,  quite  ener- 
getically, for  another  log.  It  made  her  tell  the 
servant,  when  he  came,  that  she  must  have 
more  candles. 

In  short,  it  was  Independence. 

Well  it  was  that  Mrs.  Sacheverell,  wres- 
tling with  one  daughter  in  Portland  Place, 
could  not  know  to  what  dangers  she  left  the 
other  exposed  at  Horsham. 

Poor  distracted  parent!  She  had  quite 
enough  to  worry  her  as  it  was.  For  Harriet, 
again,  wouldn't  budge.  With  her  usual  ob- 
stinacy she  simply  refused  to  pack  her  trunk ; 


NEW! 

TWO-IN-ONE  TALC! 


l»  It's  a  deodorant!  ^ 
2*  It's  a  refreshing  body 


powder ! 


DEODORANT  TALC 

Now!  Discover  for  yourself  this  wonderful ; 
"rwo-in-one"  talc  that  gives  you  all-day  , 
deodorant  protection  — And,  at  the  same  ; 
time,  keeps  skin  soft  and  smooth  — 

fresh  as  April  Showers  — all  over.  \ 
Family  size,  50^  ^ 

FAVORITE  WITH 
BOTH  MEN  AND  WOMEN 


STICK 
DEODORANT 


So  easy  to  apply . . . 

glides  over  the  skin! 

This  "Always  Safe, 
Always  Sure"  deodorant 

gives  sure,  lasting  protection.  In  solid-stick 
form  —  wonderful  for  traveling— not  a 

chance  of  dripping,  staining!  75^ 

''~~™''  Prices  plus  tax. 


for  perfMme  that  lasts  •  • 

try  April  Showers 
Liquid  Skin  Sachet!  A  creamy 
liquid  perfume  that  lasts  and  lasts 
because  of  its  sachet  base.  $1  plus  tax. 


CHERAMY 

PERFUMER 


alsd  promised  tliat  she  woiilfl  refuse  lo 
r  the  carria^ie. 

riie  footmen  will  have  to  pick  me  up 

/v,"saifl  Harriet    absolutely  with  relish. 

hall  iiave  to  wear  my  Hl(H)mer  coslume, 
f  crinoline  something  miKht  show." 

il  a  scene,  even  in  imauination,  on  the 
ement  of  I'ortland  Place!  "I  ex|)ect  it 

attract  (luite  a  mob,"  added  Harriet 
c  rclishinnly  still.  "Whicii  of  course  is 

what  we  want,  because  everyone  will 
how  pracliral  bloomers  are,  especially  in 
lestic  emernencies." 

Irs.  SacJieverel!  was  ballled.  She  never 
Id  (luite  tell  whether  Harriet  was  or 
n't  makinu  name  of  her  just  as  she  had 
er  been  able  to  tell  with  Harriet's  father: 
Tiet  in  this  case  probably  meant  what 
said,  and  the  risk  was  too  nreat  to  run. 
VVIiat  do  you  imanine  you're  doini.;!" 
d  poor  bewikk'ied  Mrs.  Sachevereil.  "  \tm 
)  havi'  sue!)  pretty  frocks!" 
I'm  opening  a  new  era  of  female  emanci- 
ion,"sai(l  Harriet  loudly.  "Mrs.  likMuner 
ned  it  in  America,  there  are  ladies  in 
;land  to  foMow  her  example.  We  shall 
n  ours  next  Sunday,  by  walkinu  in  Hyde 
k.  in  our  bloomers." 

'hat  at  least  Mrs.  Sachevereil  could  pre- 
l,  at  least  so  far  as  concerned  Harriet, 
lock  a  dauKhler  in  her  r(X)m  minht  be 
ifully  mek)dramatic,  but  it  did  st<>i)  the 
^;hter's  ueltinn  out.  Unfortunately,  Aunt 
ardo  couldn't  be  trusted  to  see  to  it.  Aunt 
ardo,  like  all  poor  relations,  knuckled 
er  to  the  nearest  representative  of  wealth. 
(«//  hare  lo  slay  tnyselj.  at  least  orer  Shh- 
,  liiou,i;hl  Mrs.  Sachevereil;  and  sent  an 
ress  letter  to  Horsham 
iin.u  Laura  wail  in  pa 
ce  a  few'  days  more. 


IS  pn- 


OOO0OOGOOO 


aura  received  it,  on  the 
lay,  with  mixed  feel- 
i.  She  was  still  enjoyinu 
self;  her  new-found 
jpendence  still  lasted 
L't.  she  was  still  order- 
people  about  right  and 
(Nol  only  iier  own  maid:  the  landlord 
/ell,  and  the  landlady;  and  the  servants 
the  waiters.)  For  two  days  she  liad 
aed  supreme,  the  Cleorj^e  and  Crown's 
in;  but  on  the  previous  morning  there 
appeared  rivals  for  her  throne.  Four  of 
n,  in  fact:  two  young  gentlemen  of  posi- 
— one  of  them  was  actually  a  baronet  — 
ring  two  young  persons  of  .  .  .  well,  of 
town.  The  young  persons  alone  couldn't 
l'  threatened  her;  alone,  they  would 
)ably  not  have  been  admitted;  but  the 
ng  men-  driving  their  own  horses,  lavish 
I  half  guineas— were  an  innkeeper's  de- 
L.  The  party  occupied  two  double  rooms 
w  assigned  ?  The  chambermaids  giggled, 
ved  gold  in  their  palms,  and  were  loudly 
reet)  and  the  other  private  parlor.  At- 
lance  on  Laura  fell  off  a  little.  Worse, 
igh  she  kept  of  course  strictly  to  her 
quarters,  she  couldn't  help  noticing  the 
iged  atmosphere  of  the  whole  inn.  Where 
id  been  respectable,  worthy,  quiet,  it  was 
gay,  almost  rowdy,  slightly  dubious, 
young  persons  ran  in  and  out,  laughing 
showing  their  ankles;  the  young  gentle- 
stamped  in  the  stables,  swearing  louder 
I  their  grooms.  In  the  evenings,  all  four 
:  songs.  There  was  noise,  now.  in  the 
lings.  .  .  .  Laura  was  not  slow  to  com- 
i;  she  complained  immediately,  and  the 
lord  was  profuse  with  apologies.  The 
;  did  not,  however,  abate.  What  land- 
will  rebuke  a  free-spending  baronet 
iting  three  friends)  on  behalf  of  one, 
ever  elegant,  lady  ? 

Laura's  nose  was  a  little  out  of  joint, 
she  was  still  very  comfortable.  It  didn't 
her  too  much  to  send  a  fairly  reassuring 
r  back.  "I  will  wait."  wrote  Laura. 
id  I  say  with  what  prayers?  But  come 
,  dear  mamma,  before  my  spirits  quite 

ney  were  within  an  ace  of  failing  that 
ling.  That  very  evening  a  most  terrible 
disturbing  thing  happened, 
ithout  any  warning  the  door  of  her 
3r  flew  open  and  a  female  shape  darted 


What  a  man  need*  in  gar- 
dening is  a  cast-iron  back 
with  a  hinge  in  it. 

—CHARLES  DUDLEV  WARNER 


l.t  I 

mto  the  rfjom.  The  candle*  m-rt-  ni)t  yel  in, 
and  Laura's  own  (inure  \  \um,fn.  U>\<U  «\  m 
a  gray  sliawj,  ho  matched  ihi-  hIkhIowh  ax  to 
Ix- almost  inviHible.  'I  he  ycnitiK  |HT*,fial  any 
rate  did  not  oWrve  it.  She  mIimkI  jiihI  willim 
the  floor,  one  li;„„|  i,,  1,,.^  Hide  as  iIioukIi  tthe 
liad  Ihcii  runMln^'.;  and  the  next  iiitlanl  (al- 
most too  tagi  r  a  huntsman  for  hucIi  willing 
<|uarryi  there  Ixiunded  after  the  taller  of  (he 
two  young  men.  Laura  hai)i)<-iied  to  know 
he  was  the  baronet.  A  mullli-d  H<|uciil  ain- 
swered  his  deep  inastuline  laugh;  then  the 
two  ligiires  iHcamronc.  clo«-ly  micrlwined. 
silent  and  absorlx-d  in  ihe  ardors  ol  ihc  i-m- 
brace. 

Laura  trembled  violently  Mul  not  with 
eold:  hot  blushes  s«'t  her  whole  txKly  on  lire. 
She  was  outraged.  With  a  great  effort  Hhe 
rose  from  the  couch  and  si-nt  her  vinaigrette 
cl.illcring  to  the  ll(M)r. 

Till  V  turned  and  stared  as  at  a  ghost. 
They  were  so  shameless  Ihal  they  did  not 
even  release  each  other. 

"  This  apartment,"  sjiid  Laura, 

vate." 

Then  at  last  the  man  l(X)sed  his  compan- 
ion's waist  and  t(K)k  a  stej)  forward.  He  was 
apok)gizing,  Ixgging  forgiveness  for  the  in- 
trusion. Laura  did  not  even  listen,  but  with 
her  pale,  invalid's  hand  |K)inted  silently  to- 
ward the  d(X)r.  The  young  iierson  scurried 
through,  the  man  lx)wed  and  loHowed;  and 
Laura's  hand  sank  back  uixHi  her  heart. 

.As  s(H>n  as  her  nerves  were  a  little  (|uieted, 
siie  complained  to  the  landk)rd.  Without 
going  into  detail,  she  desired  him  to  make  il 
clear  that  the  Red  I'arlor  was  the  exclusive 
proiKTty  of  Miss  Sach- 
evereil; and  the  implied 
rebuke  (that  he  should 
already  have  done  so 
lirought  forth  the  wholly 
unnecessary  information 
that  young  ix-ople  have 
sometimes  high  spirits. 
With  a  lift  of  her  eyebrows 
Laura  put  the  excuse  from 
her.  The  landlord  went 
away  and  returned  with  Sir  Henry's  com- 
pliments, and  a  reciuesl  that  Miss  Sach- 
evereil would  ijermil  him  lo  aix)logize  in 
person.  Laura  lifted  her  eyebrows  again, 
and  declined.  At  the  same  lime —possibly 
because  she  was  now  nearer  than  ever  lo 
laying  aside  all  worldly  things,  or  possibly 
because  she  had  snubbed  a  title  she  felt 
soothed.  She  ate  half  a  wing  of  chicken, 
drank  a  whole  glass  of  wine,  and  slept  rather 
hxHier  than  usual. 

All  next  day  the  inn  was  remarkably  quiet . 
Sir  Henry's  party  having  decided  to  patron- 
ize Brighton.  How  unexpected,  then,  that 
Laura's  spirits  failed  again !  Wasn't  quietude, 
silence,  precisely  w^hat  she  needed?  .  .  .  Yes, 
Laura  might  have  answered,  but  not  a  si- 
lence so  marked  (after  so  much  bustle)  as  to 
suggest  the  longer  silence  of  the  grave.  .  .  . 
In  any  case,  fail  her  spirits  did.  She  felt  only 
precariously  alive.  Alone  in  her  private  par- 
lor, alone  in  the  unnatural  stillness,  she  fell 
absolutely  at  death's  door. 

.She  hadn't  even  her  maid.  Even  her  maid 
was  absent,  gone  off  with  some  groom  or 
servant.  Death  would  find  her  all  alone, 
alone  at  an  inn,  far  from  every  friend  and 
relative  who  should  have  made  her  passing 
memorable.  .  .  .  "Charles!"  cried  Laura 
feebly;  but  she  wasn't  really  thinking  of  him. 
He  had  never  been  much  more  than  a  lay 
figure,  the  unconscious  though  necessary 
male  lead  in  the  tragedy  of  her  short  life. 
There  had  to  be  a  male  lead,  and  since 
Charles  was  the  only  man  with  whom  the 
Sacheverells  were  intimate,  he  had  inevitably 
been  cast  for  the  part.  Laura  now  cried 
"Charles!"  solely  because  that  was  her  cor- 
rect line;  her  brain  conjured  up  no  image  of 
him.  She  saw  only  herself'  actress  and  audi- 
ence both,  she  gazed  with  tender  pity  on  a 
slight,  solitary  figure  in  an  Ondula  crinoline. 
And  now  the  figure  moved;  it  was  about  to 
make  one  last,  heart-rending  gesture  ere  the 
curtain  fell. 

Laura  drew  otT  her  diamond  ring,  and 
reached  up  to  the  window,  and  scratched 
her  name  on  the  glass.  Now  "Sachevereil" 


DISCRIMINATING  PEOPLE  PREFER 


oooooooooo 


MRS.  ALBERT  L.  COX.  JR..  charm- 
iug  socialitr  of  If  nshinplon.  D.  C. 
Disrrimin(itin/i  in  her  choice  of  cig- 
nrcllrs.  Mrs.  Cox  says-  "Only 
Ilrrhrrl  Ttirrvton  gives  you  n  cork 
tip.  extra  length  and  such  delight- 
fiilly  mild  tobacco." 


Discriminating  people  prefer  Herbert  Tareyton.  Tliey  appreciate 
the  kind  of  smoking  that  only  fine  tobacco  and  a  genuine  cork  tip  can 
give.  The  cork  tip  doesn't  stick  to  the  lips  .  .  .  it's  clean  and  fimi.  And 
discriminating  people  prefer  Herbert  Tareyton  because  their  modern  size 
not  only  means  a  longer,  cooler  smoke,  but  that  extra  measure  of  fine 
tobacco  makes  Herbert  Tare\'ton  today's  most  unusual  cigarette  value. 

THERE'S    SOMETHING    ABOUT    THEM    YOU'LL  LIKE 


132 


1.  \  I)  I   i;  s  ■     II  (t  \ 


I   i:     I  ()  I    u   \   \  I. 


.'tt>ril,  /95, 


Forihe  magic  fun  of  growing  up. 


1 

PETERS 

Weatherized  io  re- 
pel wafer,  resist 
wear;  to  fight  mois- 
ture, heat  and  cold, 
DUMONT  is  built  for 
adventurous  boys 
ike  John! 


Weatherized  to 

keep  good  looks  and 
comfort,  PATNA 
appeals  to  the  par- 
ticular eye  of  pretty 
little  pixies  like 
Wendy! 


the  magic      of  youthful  fantasy 

See  Walt  Ksneyi 

KTERMN 

at  your  movie  theatre! 

delightful  enterloinrnent  for  the  young 
and  young  in  heort. 


Be  sure  fo  see  ttie  many  ottier  Weattier- 
Bird  styles  and  sizes  .  .  .  for  oil  pixies 
from  cradle  to  college. 

toot:  in  the  phone  directory  or 
write  us  for  your  dealer's  nome. 

Peters,  Division  of 
International  Shoe  Company, 
St.  Louis  3,  Missouri 


has  eleven  letters  in  ii.  and  Laura  was  no 
expert.  She  made,  moreover,  the  mistake 
of  trying  to  reproduce  her  handwriting. 
In  block  capitals  the  thing  would  have 
been  easier,  in  block  capitals  the  thing 
might  have  been  done;  as  it  was,  by  the 
time  Laura  reached  the  v  her  wrist  ached, 
she  was  forced  to  rest;  and  she  naturally 
looked  out  the  window. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  glass,  his  face  not 
a  yard  from  her  own,  stood  Sir  Henry.  He 
stood  there  alone.  Had  he  driven  back, 
alone,  from  Brighton,  in  his  curricle?  If  so, 
why?  Why  did  he  stand  there  at  all,  gazing 
through  the  pane?  Laura  naturally  wanted 
to  find  out;  so  she  opened  the  window. 

It  was  extraordinary  how  the  warm,  the 
lived-in,  the  loved-in  atmosphere  of  the  inn 
made  it  easy  for  her  to  act  naturally.  In 
Portland  Place,  her  every  kiss  or  hand  rais- 
ing had  been  as  it  were  dramatic.  Now 
Laura  simply  opened  the  window.  She  still 
couldn't  quite  say,  "What  do  you  want, 
why  are  you  there?"— but  she  opened  the 
window,  and  looked  out.  She  might  have 
had  no  other  motive  than  to  breathe  the  soft 
evening  air. 

"Miss  Sacheverell,"  said  Sir  Henry. 

Laura  started.  "Who  is  that?"  she  asked 
timorously. 

"My  name's  Henry  Broadhurst,"  said  Sir 
Henry,  "and  I  have  to  apologize  to  you. 
Will  you  allow  me  into  your  parlor,  or  shall 
I  do  it  from  out  here — where  I  must  say  it's 
deucedly  damp?" 

Laura  was  so  near  death's  door  herself,  she 
certainly  didn't  want  to  be  the  death  of 
anyone  else. 

"You  may  come  in,  sir,  if  you  wish,"  said 
she.  "My  maid  will  show  you  the  way." 

How  luckily!  The  girl  answered  Laura's 
ring  at  once,  slipping  in  from  the  corridor 
with  flushed  cheeks,  more  than  willing,  at 
Sir  Henry's  name,  to  slip  out  again,  and 
conduct  him  to  the  Red  Parlor. 

3'liss  SACHEVERELL  showed  no  matching 
eagerness;  but  merely  allowed,  reclining  on 
her  sofa,  his  manly  apologies. 

"Patty  never  knows  where  she's  running," 
explained  Sir  Henry — manly,  naif  and  un- 
commonly handsome.  "That's  the  lass  who 
bounced  into  your  room.  / — well,  /  was  run- 
ning after  her  " 

"Pray  say  no  more,"  murmured  Laura — 
a  broken  lily  on  her  sofa. 

"Bui  I  must,"  pursued  Sir  Henry  wor- 
riedly. "  I  mean,  I  understand  you're  an 
invalid." 

"My  heart,"  explained  Laura  softly. 

"Then  it  must  have  given  you  a  deuce  of 
a  shock,"  said  Sir  Henry— more  worried  still. 

"I  am,  unfortunately,  inured  to  them," 
said  Laura.  She  raised  a  pale,  an  almost 


transparent  hand  between  her  face  and  thi 
nearest  candle.  Sir  Henry  at  once  leaped  u 
to  shift  it.  "I  should  not,  of  course,"  con 
tinued  Laura,  "be  here  alone — though  nat 
urally  I  have  my  maid— had  not  my  mamnii 
been  so  suddenly,  even  shockingly,  recalleq 
to  my  sister  in  town."  | 
All  Laura  intended  was  to  explain  awa; 
the  slight  ambiguousness  of  her  situationl 
Sir  Henry,  who  never  felt  himself  under  thn 
necessity  of  explaining  anything,  was  simpl;' 
interested. 

"What's  your  sister  been  at?"  he  aske| 
cheerfully.  i 

Laura  gained  a  couple  of  useful  moment  j 
by  sniffing  at  her  vinaigrette. 

"My  sister,  too,"  she  murmured,  "is  le; 
than  robust.  .  .  .  And  now  that  I  have 
ceived  your  apology  — I  assure  you,  m 
readily  — I  must  ask  you  to  leave.  As  y 
see,  I  am  not  well." 

Sir  Henry  bowed  himself  out,  went  strai 
down  to  the  harness  room,  and  there  swiftly 
picked  up  from  his  groom  every  piece  of 
formation  about  Miss  Sacheverell  which 
groom  had  picked  up  from  Miss  Sacheverell 
maid. 

liET  it  be  said  at  once  that  his  motive  wa 
not  mercenary.  Or  only  partly  so:  he  woulf 
never,  that  is,  have  inquired  into  Mis' 
Sacheverell 's  prospects  had  he  not  first  beei 
attracted  by  Miss  Sacheverell.  In  fact 
Laura's  well-bred  fragility,  after  the  rumi 
bustiousness  of  so  many  young  persons,  atl 
tracted  him  inexpressibly.  She  was  like  ;. 
glass  of  cold  water  after  too  much  run 
punch.  At  the  same  time,  and  for  all  his  fre^ 
expenditure  of  half  guineas.  Sir  Henry  was  sc 
heavily  in  debt  that  matrimony  had  becomi 
his  last  financial  resource.  It  was  matrimon; 
or  Boulogne,  in  short ;  and  since  he  couldn' 
think  of  Laura  without  thinking  of  nialri 
mony  ( which  was  part  of  her  charm  for  iiim 
nor  of  matrimony  without  thinking  of  mone 
his  inquiries  were  simply  conscientious. 

"Damme,  they're  rich  as  Croesus!''  r 
ported  Sir  Henry  that  evening  to  his  frien 
Mr.  Fox.  "House  in  Portland  Place,  fine 
carriage  horses  in  London,  and  nothing  bu 
a  sister  to  split  the  moneybags!" 

"All  of  which  may  be  servants'  gossip, 
pointed  out  Mr.  Fox— a  young  man  a 
deeply  in  debt  as  his  friend.  "Why  wa 
mamma  called  back  to  town?" 

Sir  Henry  grinned.  "The  young  sister,  i 
seems,  is  kicking  over  the  traces;  nothing  ta 
worry  about  there,  the  sooner  she's  disin 
herited  the  belter.  .  .  .  And  papa,  may  ht 
rest  in  peace,  was  Sacheverell  of  Sacheverell'' 
Bank.  Charles,  I  shall  marry  Miss."  l 

His  friend  poured  more  rum  punch.  The? 
were  alone  in  their  own  private  silling  room, 
having  sent  their  young  persons  to  bed. 


"When  I  remarked  that  Clurt;  Gable  tvas  the  mosi  fascinating  man  in  tite 
ivorld,  I  (Udn't  mean  to  imply  tliat  I  was  dissatisfied  with  you,  dear." 


I 

tohi  take  chances 

LARVEX 

HOTHPROOFS 

the  cloth  ilscfr 


lo  odor 


lo  wrapping 

lo  storing  •  wear 

iotiies  at  any  time 

To  protect  your  woolens  and 
blended  wool  materials  against 
moth  damage,  mothproof  the  cloth 
itself.  This  is  just  what  larvex 
does  —  why  it's  so  different  and 
gives  such  wonderful  protection. 

LARVEX  penetrates  each  tiny 
woolen  fibre  and  makes  the  cloth 
so  distasteful  and  indigestible  to 
mothworms,  they'd  rather  starve 
to  death  than  feed  on  woolens 
treated  with  larvex.  Mothworms 
will  not,  in  fact  cannot,  eat  holes 
in  LARVEX-treated  woolens. 

And  now  larvex  brings  you  its 
sensational  new  Finger-Tip  Spray 
which  makes  it  re^illy  f//n  to  moth- 
proof. One  spraying  lasts  a  whole 
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dry  cleanings.  Washing  removes 
larvex  protection.  Only  $1.19  for 
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lons and  gallons. 

iferU^  Larger  &flihg 


I      V     li     I     I      ^  II  I, 

"  You'll  never  be  lei,"  Haiti  Mr.  Fox  flatly 
Ihesf  City  htiresHCH.  they're  aH  hard  Ir, 
come  by  as  iXreiiitx-r  Innil " 

Sir  Henry  uriniud  auain  but  nvxhittly 
.'linost  sheei)ishly.  'Tve  a  nolion  ihm  one 
lallier  likes  me." 

"It's  not  the  ^-.irls  nive  trouble,  iI'h  their 
lawyers."  cxplaiiufl  wist-  Mr  Kox.  "Tli.-y're 
■  IS  ludKi'd  ;it)(nii  with  alloriieyH  an  a  vixen 
l)y  l)raiiii)l(  s.  bK)k  al  mv  and  I'olly  WkUU 
a  cool  (Illy  llioiisjiiid:  she'd  Ik-  MrH.  Fox  Huh 
niiniitc,  bill  for  ihc-  altonifys." 

^' You'd  no  liilc."  ix.iiiu-d  out  Sir  Henry. 
"  Wh.iCsa  baiikru|)t  baronetcy,  these  hard 
days?  I  tell  you.  the  allorneys  are  worsi- 
tlieii  the  mammas    a  few  thousand  in  the 
|)ol,  and  they'll  not  s<'ltle  under  a  iK-eruKc. 
You've  no  chance,  iiiy  lad,  unless 
"Unless?"  |)ronii)ted  Sir  Henry. 
Mr.   Fox  l(x)ked  thout;hlfully  into  bis 
ulass.  It  was  empty.  He  refilled  it.  "We're 
the  country's  len^;tll  from  (iretna  Creen." 
said  Mr.  Fox,  "but  I  dare  say  the  horses 
could  ck)  it." 

KS.  SACIIEVERKLL  Stayed  on  in  Lonrioii, 
Laura  stayed  on  al  the  inn.  She  had  aclually 
no  allernalive;  but  even  had  lier  mother  re- 
a|)i)eared,  Harriet  safely  in  low,  lo  carry 
them  all  on  to  Bonnor,  it  is  quite  |X)ssible 
that  Laura's  state  of  health  would  have  i)re- 
vented  her  leaving  Horsham.  For  now  she 
was  more  c|ueen  than  ever;  now  the  whole 
inn  again  revolved  round  her  sofa.  There  was 
no  more  noise,  for  the  two  young  persons 
"uid  mysteriously  disappeared.  Sir  Henry 
and  Mr.  Pox  made  it  quite  clear  that  no 
service  should  be  diverted,  to  themselves, 
from  Miss  Sacheverell.  Fach  morning  there 
appeared  on  iier  breakfast  tray  a  small  posy, 
with  Sir  Henry's  compliments;  each  noon  a 
courteous  message  (with  Sir  Henry's  compli- 
ments) inquired  after  her  health.  And  each 
evening  Sir  Henry  himself  came  to  sit  beside 
her  sofa. 

He  felt  he  had  no  time  to  lose.  Indeed,  he 
had  so  far  lost  remarkably  little;  but  Mrs. 
Sacheverell  was  expected  daily,  and  tiiough 
on  the  Monday  Laura  sadly  informed  him 
that  her  mamma  was  yet  again  delayed,  Sir 
Henry  still  fell  he  had  no  time  to  lose.  That 
Monday  evening,  he  pressed  Laura's  hand. 

liut  why  did  Mrs.  Sacheverell  delay?  Tues- 
day passed,  Wednesday  and  Thursday,  a 
whole  week  passed,  without  bringing  her 
back  to  Laura's  side.  What  had  happened, 
in  London,  on  Sunday  the  bells  ringing  for 
morning  service,  Harriet  locked  in  her  rcx)m— 
that  Mrs.  Sacheverell  delayed? 

The  answer  is  that  Harriet  wasn't  locked 
in  her  room  al  all.  Or  rather,  she  was  locked, 
but  she  had  a  key.  She  had  had  a  duplicate 
key  for  months,  she  had  had  it  made  monlhs 
before,  immediately  after  being  locked  in 
from  a  meeting  on  prison  reform.  On  the 
Sunday  morning  she  simply  let  herself  out, 
slipped  unobserved,  but  in  full  Bloomer  cos- 
tume, through  the  front  door,  and  half  an 
hour  later  was  being  mobbed  in  Hyde  Park. 

Regrettably  or  not  regrettably.  Harriet 
gave  as  good  as  she  got.  She  was  a  very 
sturdy  girl.  The  policemen  who  conducted 
her  home  w-amed  Mrs.  Sacheverell  that  one 
action  at  least  might  be  brought,  by  a  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament  with  a  black  eye. 

Naturally  Mrs.  Sacheverell  stayed  in  town. 
The  swarm  of  attorneys  (so  accurately  vis- 
ualized by  Mr.  Fox)  rallied  to  a  possible  de- 
fense. Harriet  enjoyed  herself  enormously.  A 
suffragette  born  loo  early  in  time,  she  longed 
for  nothing  so  much  as  martyrdom.  She  also 
wanted  to  see  the  Member  make  a  fool  of 
himself  in  court.  She  intended  lo  borrow  a 
leaf  from  her  sister's  book,  and  Icxjk  e.vtraor- 
dinarily  fragile. 

Letter  after  letter  kept  Laura,  at  Horsham, 
in  touch  with  all  these  dreadful  develop- 
ments; implored  patience  and  moral  courage; 
and  also,  however  unintentionally,  strength- 
ened Sir  Henry's  hand. 

For  Laura,  in  the  ordinary  course  of 
things,  would  no  luore  have  dreamed  of  elop- 
ing than  she  would  have  dreamed  of  becom- 
ing a  Bloomer.  A  full-fig  wedding  at  St. 
George's,  Hanover  Square— white  satin, 
white  lace,  six  bridesmaids— was  a  delightful 
prospect  to  her.  She  certainly  wouldn't  have 
wasted  a  baronet  groom  in  any  hole-and- 


M     I  I     O     I      |(     N     \  I 


So  fast  fbu  Need 

A  Stopwatch 
To  Time  Its  Speed! 


\^niite  lightning  flashing  past  you  on  a  sunny  afternoon !  A  base- 
ball, seeming  the  size  of  a  pea,  pitched  at  127  m.p.h.  1  That's  fast- 
so  fast  you  need  a  stopwatch  to  time  its  speed !  And  the  .same  is 
true  with  Bayer  Aspirin.  It  starts  disintegrating  almost  instantly 
—so  fast  you  need  a  stopwatch  to  time  its  speed.  That's  one  reason 
why  Bayer  Aspirin  relieves  ordinary  headache— makes  you  feel 
better— fast! 

COMPARE! 

Drop  the  headache  tablet  you  now 
use  in  one  gloss  of  water — drop  a 
Bayer  Aspirin  tablet  in  another — ond 
see  how  fast  each  of  them  disintegrates.  '  


Baj'er  Aspirin  is  so  gentle  doctors  prescribe  it  even  for  small  children.  So  use  it  with  con- 
fidence. And  remember— if  it  does  not  give  you  fast,  gentle  relief— don't  exiieriment— 

IT'S  TIME  TO  SEE  YOUR  DOCTORI 


BAYER 


ASnRIN 


L   A    D    I    F,  S 


II    O    M  F. 


JOURNAL 


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corner.  She  would  have  wanted  everything 
done  in  order,  trousseau,  settlements  and  all; 
in  the  course  of  which  preparations,  the 
Sacheverell  attorneys  would  undoubtedly 
have  discovered  Sir  Henry's  utter  penury, 
and  prevented  the  match. 

Harriet's  scandalous  behavior  altered  ev- 
erything. 

Very  much  a  prude,  very  much  a  prig, 
truly  unworldly  as  only  the  very  rich  can  be, 
Laura  simply  could  not  imagine  Sir  Henry 
accepting  Harriet  as  a  sister-in-law.  For 
though  Harriet,  like  herself,  would  have 
forty  thousand  pounds,  Laura  saw  abso- 
lutely no  social  future  for  a  sister  so  irre- 
trievably disgraced.  In  fact,  she  saw  no 
social  future  for  the  whole  family— they 
were  disgraced  along  with  Harriet.  The 
white  satin  and  white  lace  (which  she  had 
naturally  visualized  at  the  very  moment  of 
opening  her  window)  accordingly  vanished 
into  thin  air:  Laura  had  now  no  more  hope 
of  Sir  Henry  than  of  the  Prince  Consort. 

In  s  me  circumstances,  particularly  after 
the  vanishing  of  a  particularly  beautiful 
dream,  it  is  better  to  die  at  once.  By  the  end 
of  the  week  Laura  had  decided  to  do  so.  If 
she  took  Sir  Henry  into  her  confidence  it  was 
because  she  had  no  one  else  to  confide  in. 
He  was  at  least  a  gentleman.  She  didn't  want 
to  distress  him  unduly:  she  just  begged  him, 
in  any  emergency— should  she  be  found,  for 
example,  apparently  lifeless  on  her  sofa— to 
send  his  curricle  to  London  for  her  mamma. 

"For  you  must  know  that  I  am  a  coward," 
said  Laura  Sacheverell  pitifully.  "I  fear  to 
die  alone." 

The  opportunity  was  plain.  Sir  Henry 
seized  it. 

"Die?  But  you  must  not ! "  cried  Sir  Henry 
impetuously.  "Live,  Miss  Sacheverell— 
and  live  for  me!" 

Mrs.  SACHEVERELL,  in  London,  consulted 
her  attorneys.  It  appeared  that  the  Member 
wouldn't,  after  all,  prosecute.  It  appeared 
also  (after  consultation  with  her  hostess 
equals)  that  Miss  Harriet  Sacheverell  would 
be  better,  for  a  month  or  two,  out  of  town. 
("Nonsense!"  cried  Harriet.  "I'm  in  the 
middle  of  term!")  Let  it  all  die  down,  ad- 
vised the  Sacheverell  attorneys— and  Mrs. 
Sacheverell's  fellow  hostesses  agreed.  "But  I 
don't  want  it  to  die  down!"  cried  Harriet. 
Other  Bloomers,  however,  were  less  resolute ; 
they  felt  the  seed  planted  by  their  leader 
might  be  left  to  germinate  unpublicized.  Not 
in  Harriet's  breast!  prayed  Mrs.  Sacheverell— 
how  fruitlessly !  Her  daughter  Harriet's  work 
for  female  emancipation  is  enshrined  in 
every  encyclopedia.  But  it  did  at  least  seem 
certain  that  no  further  demonstrations  would 
immediately  take  place ;  and  bending  at  last 
to  the  spirit  of  an  era  she  could  never  com- 
prehend—leaving her  daughter  Harriet,  in 
Portland  Place,  to  pursue  her  studies  at 
Queen's  College— Mrs.  Sacheverell  returned 
to  Horsham. 

Two  eras,  not  one,  caught  her  defenseless 
between  them.  The  shock  awaiting  her  at 
the  George  and  Crown,  though  its  ingredi- 
ents belonged  to  the  era  of  her  own  youth, 
was  nonetheless  scarifying. 

At  the  George  and  Crown,  she  learned 
that  her  daughter  Laura  had  eloped  with  a 
baronet.  The  bills  they  left  behind  were  so 
staggering  that  Mrs.  Sacheverell  immedi- 
ately jumped  to  the  correct  conclusion,  that 
he  was  penniless. 

"  What  times  we  live  in ! "  cried  poor  Mrs. 
Sacheverell.  "What  times  we  live  in!  When 
did  they  go,  how  do  they  travel,  where  are 
they  going  to?" 

"If  you  ask  me,  Gretna  Green,"  said  the 
landlord,  "in  the  curricle.  But  there's  a  let- 
ter left  for  you  in  the  parlor." 

Mrs.  Sacheverell  scanned  it  with  what 
composure  she  could  muster.  It  left  her  not, 
basically,  in  despair.  A  baronet  son-in-law, 
however  penniless,  would  still  make  Laura 
"my  lady,"  and  the  attorneys  could  be 
trusted  to  safeguard  Laura's  fortune.  What 
really  shook  her  was  the  thought  of  Laura 
in  an  open  carriage  on  the  Great  North 
Road.  She  simply  couldn't  understand,  she 
never  did  understand,  how  Laura  (in  a  de- 
cline) had  found  the  strength  to  elope. 

THE  END 


because 

rea(n. 

Easter  P^racfe 

and  +hey\<i/ear 

a       time. My 
say5 


WING-TIP 


EDWARDS, 
are  the  best- 
so  I  khow  my  sister 

TOO. 


PHYLLIS 


These  are  just  three  of  the  mony 
attractive  Easter  styles  now  at  your 
nearby  (duiards  dealer's.  Depend  on 
him  for  expert  fitting  —  always. 


314-22  N.  12th  Street,  Phiio.  7,  Pa. 


La  II  I 


II   "t  \i   I  I 


II  your  child  suflers  from  frequent  headaches,  see  your  doctor.  I'lic 
pain  may  he  a  symplotn  of  hidd.wi  ilhiess  or  emolional  disinrl)aiice. 


The  Uhihl 
It  Ifo  Han  Hvadn0'lu»s 

ll.v  l»K.  IIKK.>l.\i\  >.  Ill MkKSKX 

l'rp»i(l.-iil.  Cliii  iigi>  HoanI  of  ll.nillli 


NIOR  needs  glasses."  a  mother  said 
)  me  positively  a  few  weeks  ago,  indi- 
her  ten-year-old  son.  ''He  has  eye- 
training  the  impulse  to  ask  why  she 
ed  coming  to  a  doctor,  since  she  ap- 
ly  had  the  case  diagnosed,  I  took  a 
1  look  at  Junior's  eyes.  Nothing  was 
atter  with  them. 

hat  makes  you  think  he  has  eye- 
?"  I  asked  the  mother  when  the  e.x- 
tion  was  complete. 
;  has  headaches."  she  replied.  "Aren't 
:hes  caused  by  eyestrain?" 
3ok  me  some  time  to  convince  this 
r  that  Junior's  eyesight  was  excellent, 
at  the  thing  to  do  was  to  take  him  to 
Tiily  doctor  for  a  thorough  examina- 
'  Junior's  whole  system.  For  the  idea 
eadaches  and  eyestrain  are  synony- 
eems  to  be  firmly  rooted,  and  unfortu- 
so.  Many  mothers  insist  on  glasses 
ir  headachy  children,  when  t1ie  eyes 
rfectly  normal.  Still  others  neglect 
defects  in  their  children  because  the 
iters  don't  have  headaches.  I've  even 
mothers  to  get  angry  when  the  sub- 
glasses  was  brought  up.  "There's 
g  wrong  with  Junior's  eyes,"  they'll 
lignantly.  "He's  never  had  a  head- 
i  his  life!" 

Jache  may,  it's  very  true,  be  one  of 
nptoms  of  some  visual  disorder,  or 
casionally  result  from  a  prolonged  or 
t  seeing  task.  But  this  is  more  likely 
he  case  among  adults  tlian  among 
n.  The  great  majority  of  children's 
hes  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  eyes, 
lin  should  be  taken  into  account,  by 
ans.  But  an  over-all  examination, 
ted  by  the  family  physician,  is  the 
o  start  if  your  child  is  subject  to 
hes. 

most  common  causes  of  headache  in 
n  are  allergy   (oversensitivity  to 


foods,  dusts  or  pollens);  digestive  upsets: 
respiratory  infections;  or  emotional  or 
nervous  tension.  Headache  also  is  often  an 
early  symptom  of  many  of  the  common 
communicable  diseases  that  children  are 
likely  to  have,  such  as  measles,  chicken  jxix. 
whooping  cough.  When  the  pain  is  espe- 
cially severe  and  persistent  and  seems  to  be 
localized  at  the  base  of  the  skull,  it  can  even 
betoken  meningitis  or  poliomyelitis. 

Since  headache  often  is  a  sign  of  oncom- 
ing infection,  it  must  be  treated  with  respect 
every  time  it  occurs.  Put  the  child  to  bed 
immediately,  and  observe  him  carefully  for 
the  next  few  hours.  Many  doctors  suggest 
that  if  the  pain  is  severe,  aspirin  may  be 
given,  or  cold  cloths  may  be  applied  to  the 
forehead  for  relief.  If  an  infection  is  on  its 
way.  other  symptoms  may  be  expected  to 
appear  soon.  These,  of  course,  should  be  re- 
ported to  the  doctor.  He  will  know,  from 
the  nature  and  severity  of  the  symptoms, 
whether  or  not  he  needs  to  examine  the 
child  and  prescribe  treatment. 

Headaches  caused  by  an  allergy  can  usu- 
ally be  identified  witiiout  too  much  diffi- 
culty, because  the  allergic  child  is  likely  to 
suffer  also  from  hay  fever,  eczema,  asthma 
or  one  of  the  other  allergic  manifestations. 
Eating  of  certain  foods  or  exposure  to  sub- 
stances in  the  environment  brings  on  the 
familiar  sequence  of  "migraine"— visual 
disturbance,  nausea,  vomiting,  prostration 
and  painful,  throbbing  headache.  Small 
sufferers  from  allergy  headaches  need  ex- 
pert medical  care  if  they  are  to  avoid  a  life- 
time of  recurring  migraine  episodes.  In  the 
majority  of  cases,  study  will  determine 
what  the  offending  substance  or  allergen  is, 
and  it  can  be  banished  from  the  child's  en- 
vironment. 

There  are  instances,  however,  where  the 
other  allergic  symptoms  do  not  occur  and 
where  the  most  exhaustive  investigation 
fails  to  reveal  any  food  or  other  substance  as 


nn 


ine  diiierence 
tetweentbs... 


and 
this... 


Ah 


f 

9 


is  often  this... 


9-9 


BABY 
OIL 


lit 


BABY 


136 


LAD    I    E    S  ' 


ITOME  JOURNAL 


the  offender.  Still  the  child  has  these  recurring 
violent  headaches.  In  most  of  these  cases,  we 
havQ  found,  the  episodes  accompany  some 
emotional  stress  in  the  child's  life,  and  this  is 
something  to  have  in  mind.  In  the  same  way 
that  one  child  is  allergic  to  chocolate,  another 
may  be  allergic  to  parties,  assemblies  or  any 
situation  that  gets  him  excited. 

Judy  was  an  example  of  this  kind  of  head- 
ache victim.  A  talented  little  girl  who  was  al- 
ways chosen  for  the  leading  part  in  the  plays 
and  pageants  at  school,  she  invariably  turned 
up  desperately  ill  on  the  big  day,  with  an  up- 
set stomach,  headache  and  prostration.  Care- 
ful study  of  Judy's  case  over  a  period  of  sev- 
eral months  led  us  to  the  conclusion  that 
there  was  a  cause-and-effect  relationship  be- 
tween her  headaches  and  the  occasions  on 
which  they  occurred.  New  remedies,  which 
ease  tensions  and  lighten  allergic  reactions, 
soon  diminished  the  number  and  severity  of 
Judy's  headaches. 

,Ve  also  advised  her  parents  to  help  her 
avoid  the  tension  buildup  that  was  setting 
them  off.  Instead  of  making  a  big  fuss  about 
the  dramatic  appearances  and  other  activities 
that  seemed  to  upset  her,  they  treated  these 
occasions  casually.  Every  efTort  was  made  to 
keep  Judy's  emotional  life  on  an  even,  low- 
pressure  plane.  With  this  double-barreled  pro- 
gram, Judy's  headaches  were  cut  down  to  a 
point  where  they  rarely  interfered  with  her 
activities.  In  a  few  years  they  disappeared 
entirely. 

And  then  there  are  many  children  whose 
headaches  result  from  emotional  tension  or 
from  deep-seated  psychological  causes.  In 
fact,  the  recurring  headache  that  comes  un- 


^^Cis  one  vifamm  your  body  can't  store  up 


Maybe  he  won't  make  Mars  —  but 
he'll  take  a  long  step  toward  better 
health  on  earth  if  you  keep  him  fueled 
up  with  Florida  Orange  Juice. 

Because  Florida  Orange  Juice  is 
rich  in  vitamin  C,  one  vitamin  your 
body  can't  store,  needs  every  day. 


And  what  a  delicious  way  to  get  vita- 
min C !  Florida's  are  true  juice  oranges, 
thin-skinned,  noted  for  sweetness. 

So  fill  up  big  glasses  when  the  kids 
leave  the  outer  world  behind  and  get 
just  plain  thirsty!  Florida  Orange 
Juice  is  a  day-long  drink! 


fforida  Canned 

Ready  to  serve  at  any  hour,  any 
day  of  the  year.  Natural  full- 
str.  ngth,  rich  in  vitamin  C. 
There's  blended  Florida  Orange- 
Grapefruit  Juice  in  cans,  too. 

ffotkfy  M)-ffQzen  Conoenttafe. 

Tree-fresh  flavor — full  vitamin 
value  in  this  handy  form.  Keep  in 
freezing  compartment.  Add  3 
parts  water,  shake  or  stir — and 
pour  tall  glasses!  No  sugar  added. 

Sweet,  juicy  oranges,  full  of  "C" 
fresh  from  the  tree.  Floridas  go 
farther — their  thin  skin  leaves 
more  room  for  juice.  Right  now  is 
Florida's  fresh  fruit  season. 


f 

accompanied  by  other  symptoms  is  m . 
emotional  in  origin.  These  children,  to5 
thorough  medical  study  to  rule  out! . 
mote  possibility  that  the  headache, 
caused  by  some  obscure  condition  iw  ; 
brain  tumor  or  circulatory  disorder,  i 
don't  mean  to  ignore  visual  defects.  Tb  t 
should  be  examined  also.  ; 

But  once  the  likelihood  has  been  ( i 
lished  that  the  child's  headaches  areln 
tional  in  origin,  treatment  is  largely  up 
parents.  The  youngster  needs  understa 
and  love.  He  needs  the  feeling  of  being : 
at  home,  at  school  and  among  his  playi 
When  these  needs  are  filled  abundant!' 
likely  that  the  headaches  will  decreasji 
eventually  vanish. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  child's  ei 
needs  are  neglected  and  tensions  allc 
develop  unrestrained ,  the  headaches 
to  continue  and  to  become  more  sew 
fact,  I  would  expect  them  to  emerge  1; 
as  a  part  of  the  poor  health  and  unhap  ili 
of  a  neurotic  adult.  \ 

From  the  foregoing,  you  can  sech 
though  a  child's  headaches  may  occasi  i| 
be  due  to  eyestrain,  the  problem  is  lilt- 
be  much  more  complicated  than  this.  V'l 
child  is  not  given  to  headaches,  each  oi  h 
comes  should  be  regarded  as  the  possib  ii 
sign  of  an  illness.  If  they  keep  recurrini  a 
the  youngster  to  your  family  doctor  r 
very  thorough  going  over.  If  he  suspec  5 
strain  and  sends  you  to  an  oculist,  w:  1 
good.  But  don't  fall  into  the  commoi'-t 
that  all  headaches  are  due  to  eyestrai'ji 
thus  possibly  remain  in  ignorance  of  a' » 
tion  that  ought  to  be  remedied. 


THE  DAIGHTER  OF  BUGLE  ANX 

(Continued  from  Page  39) 


Florido  Citrus  Commission,  Lolteland,  Floridi 


land,  Florida  ^^^^^^ 


"She  sent  you  gathering  them?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "She  loves  violets. 
Likes  the  yellow  ones  quite  well,  but  these 
blue  ones  just  set  her  crazy.  I  figured  they 
were  out  by  now,  and  thought  I  should  bring 
her  .  .  .  well" — he  flushed — "a  small  sur- 
prise." 

Anyone  might  understand  what  made  him 
do  it,  loving  Camden  as  he  did,  for  her  eyes 
held  the  very  color  of  those  blooms.  .  .  .  The 
simple  things:  the  eat-together,  work-to- 
gether, play-together  life  of  newlyweds  who 
have  no  other  current  problems,  and  never 
have  acquired  children  yet.  They  savored 
these  frail  spiritual  belongings;  they  never 
told  to  others  the  miracle  they  shared,  but 
still  it  was  apparent. 

Camden  owned  a  ukulele;  her  singing 
voice  was  only  fair,  no  matter  how  we  loved 
to  hear  her  speak;  when 
she  sang,  her  tunes  were 
faulty.  But  not  to  Benjy's 
ears. 

One  night  I  worked  with 
Benjy  by  the  barn,  helping 
him  bolt  a  dog  box  on  a 
truck.  Suddenly  I  saw  that 
he  was  rigid,  listening,  and 
from  the  darkened  porch 
(then  being  wide  rebuilt, 
beyond  a  heap  of  shavings  and  sawbucks 
standing)  we  heard  the  fiat  soft  song 
which  Camden  made. 

He  whispered,  "She  bought  that  ukulele 
when  she  was  a  little  kid." 

The  melody  rose  thin  and  wavery,  but  it 
had  a  hauntingness.  Benjy  crossed  the  yard 
halfway,  to  stand  in  gloom  and  call  to  her: 

"Camden.  Sing  that  one  you  sang  the 
other  night." 

"'Nita,  Juanita?'"  I  heard  her  querying. 

"That's  the  one." 

He  strode  back,  getting  busy  with  the 
truck  once  more,  but  giving  only  half  an 
ear  and  eye.  It  is  probable  that  more  of  him 
was  on  that  half-built  porch  than  worked 
beside  me  at  the  bam.  He  saw  her  as  she 
must  have  looked— so  slim  and  wistful,  big- 
eyed,  rosy-haired— a  musing  child,  sunk 
down  on  that  old  hammock,  and  whispering 
the  chorus  in  a  kind  of  wail. 

"Ask  thy  soul 
If  we  should  part  " 


4ft  0^  1^ 

Of  how  little  use  is  the  best 
advice,  since  we  are  so  sel- 
dom taught  by  our  own  ex- 
perience. 

— VAUVENARGUES 


l^g^  ''^l^ 


She  didn't  need  to  ask  his  soul  oije 
they  didn't  want  to  part.  But  still  bfl  i 
membered  that  each  of  these  young 
was  possessed  of  hidden  bitterness  li 
previous  years  had  hammered  in.  Eai  h 
soft  iron  of  the  spirit  which  could  c  : 
hardness  at  a  word  or  deed. 

Newcomers  to  our  region,  maybe  \ti 
relatives  over  Sunday,  and  singing  "  xi 
to  Tell  the  Story"  with  natives  ;:c 
church —newcomers  heard  queer  men  n 
the  Davises:  they  would  hear  hou;,'^ 
names,  and  mention  of  a  murder;  an  h 
would  wonder  how  such  a  union  ever  c  le 
be  made,  between  the  dark  Benjy  a  t 
dainty  Camden.  , 
"It  was  a  match  made  by  a  thirty'iiii 
rifle,"  my  father,  Cal  Royster,  might  y. 
My  mother  would  cry  hush.  "It  is 
match  made  up  in  he  ?i 
she'd  declare,  and  a 
held  more  or  less  th  ai 
opinion,  a  burden  ( 
planation  fell  on  m#, 
In  the  beginning!!'] 
ancient  days  our  tal^ij 
bor  Spring  Davis  rJa 
littlegyp  fromoutai  2t 
More  fabulous  in  lir  a 
power  and  in  wisdonh 
any  foxhound  ever  tracing  through  i( 
hills,  his  Bugle  Ann  possessed  a  v(,s 
sheerest  melody.  She  was  the  talk  am  0; 
of  men  on  every  ridge,  and  how  they  vi 
Spring  his  prize. 

Then  in  moved  Jacob  Terry,  occ  yi 
an  abandoned  farm  where  once  his  ;  !a 
dwelt,  and  putting  snag-toothed  ba  s 
fencing  through  the  woods.  He  was  .  ai 
and  surly  man,  unliked  by  most;  I  > 
daughter  Camden  was  neat-patterne  ri 
her  dead  mother's  bolt  of  goods:  a  C  id 
through  and  through,  aloof  and  di^'fii 
except  for  red  hair  from  the  Terry  'a 
And  Benjy  Davis,  right  next  dd  i 
fairly  on  his  knees  in  worship.  Secny 
designated  Camden  Terry  as  his  ov  a 
she  gave  back  to  him  her  shy  devotior  fli 
came  an  evening  when  she  and  Benjj^rc 
to  see  the  moving  pictures;  when  tlv 
turned,  the  feud  and  trouble  stood  0  li! 
with  tall  black  smoke  and  angry  heat  su 
Bugle  Ann  had  disappeared  beyor  Js 
Terry's  barricade  of  wire  fence.  She  w  Id 


1)1  I 


M  I 


lUT  THIS 


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UR  „epi.  H.     Pleasant  Hill.  Otiio 


answer  to  the  ).)avw  lioni,  and  all  <>l  u^^  \\,  ni 
scarcliinK.  'I'l-rry  apiK-and  wilh  hIioUmiii 
handy,  and  lit-  ciirnt-d  uh  wiUl,  atid  urdnid 
IIS  to  leave  liis  land  lie  ftwiire  iluil  lu  'tl  hlay 
any  hound  whiih  Hle|)|x'<l  uimhi  Iun  Kra»» 

"  Jatot)."  (uiid  (lid  SpriiiK,  or  woidn  to  lhal 
elTect.  "if  you  kill  Hu^le  Ann,  I'll  blow  you 
clean  to  Klory." 

I  reckon  'IVrry  doubled  hmi,  and  neviT 
feared,  lie  weiil  hack  to  Iiih  houdc,  revilinK 
all  and,  worse  than  thai,  reviling  Iiih  ttwn 
dauKhler  when  he  (ound  her  home. 

"You've  Ix'en  out  wilh  lhal  snaky  Davm 
lx)y  aKain."  he  roared.  "I  tell  you  now. 
you'll  never  ko  anain!  Nor  ever  s|K-ak  a 
word  lo  hiin,  nor  let  him  even  ulance  al 
you." 

KiKhleen  years  old  and  lender  as  Hhc  wan, 
younu  Camden  had  ihe  sjiunk  of  soldiers  and 
(»f  judges  in  her  veins.  "  You  have  no  rinhl  lo 
pill  such  laws  on  me.  I'll  no  with  li<'njy 
Davis  any  lime  lie  asks  me."  S>  her  father 
slapped  her  on  ihe  mouth. 

Tlial  was  enounli.  She  look  her  clothes 
and  packed  them  in  the  car  which  was  her 
own;  and  .jacob  Terry  never  dared  to  strike 
luT  more  not  when  he  saw  the  last  sharp 
arrows  of  the  glance  she  turned  on  him. 

She  started  out  in  speed,  and  just  Ix-yond 
the  Terry  nate  her  rinht  wheel  tossed  Ihe 
siiapc  of  Bu^;le  Ann  aside.  The  tired  nyp,  un- 
harmed by  Terry  but  full  exhausted  from 
her  hours  of  seekin^;  after  a  far-run  fox,  was 
trolling;  on  the  road  lo  home  when  she  was 
struck. 

She  wasn't  killed;  she  cried  in  anony  just 
once,  and  then  she  fell  to  moaning.  Camden 
Terry  picked  her  up.  "I  knew  that  there 'd 
been  trouble,"  she  explained,  lonu  afterward. 
"If  it  were  known  lhal  I'd  hurl  Bugle  Ann, 
I  feared  worse  trouble  might  occur." 

Accordingly  she  conveyed  the  injured 
hound  far  up  lo  Jackson  County  where  an 
uncle  lived,  and  told  that  she  had  found  some 
nameless  dog  run  over  in  the  road  when  she 
was  driving  there.  But  the  tragedy  which 
Camden  hoped  lo  forestall  never  had  been 
stayed. 

Bright  and  early  in  the  morning  Spring- 
field Davis  trailed  abroad,  his  rifle  in  his 
hand,  and  neighbcjrs  following;  and  voices 
warned  against  the  course  he  contemplated. 
Bugle  Ann's  small  tracks  were  found, 
a-leading  to  that  gale  and  never  going  past 
it.  It  looked  as  if  Jake  Terry 'd  slain  her  with 
an  ax,  as  he  had  threatened. 

Terry  appeared,  his  weapon  ready,  but 
old  Spring  Davis  fired  first.  Thus  we  had  a 
murder  trial,  the  first  in  years;  and  thus  our 
worthy  neighbor  went  away  to  serve  his 
lime  behind  Ihe  prison  walls,  al  eighty-two. 
Terry  was  dead,  and  Bugle  Ann  was  surely 
dead  as  well,  lo  all  of  us;  for  Camden  never 
told  the  whole.  Slie  believed  in  sincerity  thai 
mailers  would  have  gone  far  worse  for 
Springfield  Davis  if  she'd  spoke  her  piece, 
and  jurors  perceived  thai  Bugle  Ann  had 
never  been  destroyed. 

In  withdrawal  and  in  solitude,  Camden 
bred  lhal  prelly  half-lame  gyp  to  a  good 
dog  named  Proctor  Pride,  and  one  of  the 
pups  betokened  lhal  she  owned  all  of  her 
dam's  endearments  and  her  skill.  Bugle  Ann 
did  nol  remain  for  long  lo  see  this  pattern- 
ing; she  wailed  till  the  pups  were  weaned, 
and  then  she  lit  for  home.  She'd  pined  so 
Ihin,  a-dreaming  of  her  native  thickets.  I 
reckon  thai  she  pined  for  Springfield  Davis 
loo. 

One  nighl  we  started  from  our  beds.  We 
heard  her  voice,  and  knew  it  for  a  chant  of 
ghoslliness.  Remember,  we  had  never  known 
lhal  Bugle  Ann  slill  lived.  She  bayed  lhal 
night  wilh  honey  sounds,  and  how  ihe  ru- 
mors ripped  around,  though  she  was  never 
seen  again  within  the  flesh.  I  found  her  bones 
myself,  wilh  her  own  homemade  collar  hang- 
ing close — found  ihem  beneath  a  scroll  of 
rusly  wire  where  she'd  choked  herself,  and 
Benjy  Davis  buried  her  relics  underneath  a 
sweel-crab  tree. 

Next  June,  old  Springfield  Davis  won  a 
pardon,  instigated  by  the  act  of  Camden 
Terry;  for  her  mother's  folks  were  active  in 
the  governmenl,  and  what  she  said  and  what 
they  said  bore  solid  weight.  Not  even  realiz- 
ing lhal  the  daughter  of  the  man  he'd  shot 


A  Ra-sll  ol  Pl'oDKMllS... 

or  a  Rosc-j^elal  Skin? 


Prolcd  hahy  s  shin  i<  itii  Mrtuvn  Bfthr  Oil! 

Rememher.  ynu  gel  up  lo  SS'^r  more! 


I'ure.  pure  Mciinen  Baliv  Oil  forms 
a  prnterlivf  film  against  diaper  rash. 
Ileal  rash,  chafing,  urine  scald, 
chapping.  Helps  keep  baby  s  skin 
smooth  as  a  rose  petal.  Never  greasy, 
tan"t  slain.  Up  lo  ■'iS'a'^r  more  oil  for 
the  price  than  the  other  leading 
brand.  Remember,  every  Mennen 
Hahv  Product  is  as  carefully 
iurnnilated  as  vour  baby's  formula. 


Baby  Oil  with  Lanolin. 
Large  size  49c.  Giant  Economv  Size.  910 


4/./.  r.-t.v  FRFy 


BOBV 
POWD«K 


linhv  Spcrinli.^l  Sinrp  1880 


BABV 
SOflP 


Pure  Baby 
Powder — Smooth. 
IracraM  25c  49c 
Slighth  hishiTtn  Cnnaiin 


Baby  Maeic  Pure,  gentle  100^  pure 

Giant  Economt  BabyCrean.  Castile  Soap. 

Size  98c*  ^  only  49c  only  2Sc 

Hrtliiftir  v/rr  irr  iinhrniknU,'.  rr/tttaljr  -.tjupeze  hotde.  59c 


138  L   A    D    I    F.    -  •       II    f)  \I 


F       J    ri    I     R    N    \  L 


AprU.  I 


Shrink  Resistant  for  Comfortable  Fit 

Ask  for  GIBBS  Infants',  Children's,  Teen  and  College-Age  Sizes 
GIBBS  UNDERWEAR  CO.,  Empire  State  BIdg.,  New  York  1,  N,  Y.  •  Philadelphia  34,  Pa. 


had  now  unlocked  his  prison  door,  the  vet- 
eran stood  within  his  own  door>ard  at  last. 
We  celebrated  hard,  and  then  we  went  to 
run  our  dogs,  because  the  night  was  stick>' 
and  demanded  it.  Our  souls  demanded,  just 
as  strong. 

Deep  distant  in  those  trees  a  voice  be- 
sought our  ears.  The  \-oice  of  Bugle  Ann,  we 
all  believed — and  yet  so  sure  that  we  were 
crazy,  and  sure  that  folks  would  shrink  from 
us,  and  banish  us  because  we'd  heard  a  ghost. 
Not  till  we  found  another  fire  in  the  timber- 
land  on  Heaven  Hump,  and  Camden  Terr\- 
waiting  there,  did  we  discern  the  truth.  We'd 
heard  the  voice  of  Bugle  Aim's  own  pup. 

Her  name  was  Little  Lady,  and  she  owned 
a  prime  clear  note,  the  smooth  blast  of  a 
metal  horn,  which  had  kept  the  whole  com- 
munity in  admiration  years  before.  She 
could  handle  a  fox  more  than  fairly.  So,  at 
last,  come  home  to  Heaven  Creek  where 
rightfully  she  belonged.  Little  Lady  could 
go  tonguing  brilliantly,  with  other  hounds 
in  cr\-.  She  was  spotted  much  the  same  as 
Bugle  Ann. 

She  brought  a  power  of  happiness  into  the 
later  days  of  Springfield  Davis.  For  a  well- 
loved  dog  is  a  gift  from  the  Creator,  whether 


it  ran  in  this  same  centurj-  or  in  the  years  of 
Daniel  Boone,  or  far  earlier  than  that — 
when  the  hounds  and  the  wild  men  first 
started  living  together,  away  off  back  some- 
where, 

// 

Ol-r  dogs  rustled  out  a  fox,  south  and  east 
beyond  all  hearing,  running  like  they  were 
tied  to  him.  It  was  eleven  o'clock  at  night, 
middling  damp  and  black-dark,  for  the 
yotmg  moon  had  already  gone  to  hide. 

We  squatted  on  the  west  slope  of  the 
Divide  above  Heaven  Creek — the  ustoal  four 
of  us,  armed  with  boiled  eggs  and  onion 
sandwiches,  and  we  carried  along  a  water 
jug,  and  my  father  had  a  half-a-pint  of 
whisky.  Our  trucks  were  under  the  oaks,  just 
far  enough  back  for  firelight  to  pretend  that 
radiator  caps  were  precious  gems.  The 
spooky  places  among  big  trees  were  full  of 
betty-millers  and  numerous  other  moths, 
and  beetles  were  a-buzzing. 

Benjy  Davis  pulled  his  thin  brown  face 
away  from  the  fire:  the  blaze  was  good  to 
watch  but  hard  to  sit  by.  He  said  to  all  and 
sundr>%  "She's  just  about  coming  in." 

We  knew  without  his  saving  that  he  made 
mention  of  Little  Ladv. 


Other  Vicwi«,  Sizes  and  Prices  of  Vogue  Patterns 
on  Pages  64  &  65. 


Vogue  Design  No.  7952. 


"Easy-tD-Make"  dress  and  jacket;  12  to  20,  30  to 
38.  75c. 


Vogue  Design  No.  79^58. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7872, 


Vogue  Design  No.  78.11.    "Easy-to-Make"  one-piece  dress.  Size  14  requires 

lYs  yds.  35"  plain  for  bodice;  12  to  18,  30  to 
36.  60c. 

Vogue  Design  No.  7980.     One-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  60c. 

'Easv-to-Make"  one-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to 
38.  50c. 

Tasv-to-Make"  one-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to 
.38.  75c. 

Vogue  Design  No.  S-1350.  One-piec*  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  Sl.OO. 
Vogue  l>esign  .No.  7964.    Sleeveless  jacket;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  40c. 
Vogue  I>esign  No.  7101.     "Easv-to-Make"  one-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to 

.3&.  60c. 

Easy-to-Make"  one-piece  dress;  12  to  20,  30  to 
38.  60c. 

Vogue  Design  No.  S-4401.  One-piece  dress  and  petticoat;  12  to  18,  30  to  36. 

Sl.OO. 


Vogue  Design  No.  7986. 


7101 


S^t401 


Corns 

CALLOUSES -BUNIONS -SORE  TOES 


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/  CORNS, 
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top  Painful  Shoe 
fiction,  Lilt  Pressure 
1  a  jiffy  . .  . 

lemcve  Corns,  Callouses 
ne  of  the  fastest 
Vays  Known  to 
Medical  Science  . . . 

itop  Corns,  Callouses 
lefore  They  Develop  . . . 

;ase  New,  Tight  or 
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revent  Sore  Toes, 
llisters.  Tender  Spots 

wonder  Super- So/I 
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)ther  method  does  as 
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/  CALLOUSES 


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SOFT  CORNS 
BETWEEN  TOES 


Scholls  Zino-pads 


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I       \     l»      I      I       -  II  I, 

''Yes,"  s;ik1  Ik-njy.  aKri-ciriK  wilii  hiiiiHtll. 
iToiii  all  siKii,,  this  Hhoultl  Ik-  iIk-  lanl  lime 
I  mil  lu-i  till  siif's  dfiin  out  of  tu-aHoii," 

Sl)rlll^^ll(•l(l  Davis  numi\  Ins  jaws  around 
till'  usual  rich  wad  of  chl•wlll^;  t«l)aici). 
"Now.  I  was  oviT  to  tin-  Maitlaiid  piau-, 
wfck  iK-fori-  last.  YoutiK  Iav  Maiiiand  tix.k 
me  llitrc  in  Ins  car  to  str  F!yin«  H<)l)l)y 
Ford." 

"If  I.iitif  l.ady  l)(lon>{fd  to  riic."  H|x>kL- 
up  my  lather.  C  al  KoystiT,  "I  would  of  had 
nu  a  oniplf  ol  litters  out  of  her  Ix-forc  this." 

Hciijy  s|)okf  short,  '•l.iitk-  Lidy  dotsii't 
Ih'IoiiK  to  you." 

Pa  lookout  iiis  flask  and  stjuinti'd  anainsl 
the  llamc  to  si-e  how  many  swallows  wi-rr 
there  and  how  lonn  tlu-y'd  (k)  liim.  '"I'lie 
ureatesl  foxhound  in  captivity,  the dau^;hu•r 
of  liiinU'  Ann,  and  you've  never  lei  iier  droj) 
a  pup!" 

"  No,"  s|X)kc  Spring  Davis"  calm  old  vr)ice. 
"She  hekmus  to  Camden.  And  Ik-njy." 

"She  lx•lon^;s  to  you,  pa.  Camden  pre- 
sented her,  riKht  in  these  w(K)ds." 

"Oh."  said  Spring,  "just  call  her  a  Davis 
do«." 

Indeed  it  was  siiarc  and  share  with  those 
fine  ncinhbors  of  ours  nowadays.  After 
Si)rinn  was  i)ardoned,  and  after  Lilllc  I^dy 
was  escorted  mysteriously  to  run  on  the 
same  extensive  ranjjes  where  her  mother's 
voice  had  s(X)ken  and  after  Camden  Terry 
and  Benjy  had  been  wed,  ri^;hl  there  on  the 
Davis  |X)rch  beneath  an  arcii  of  wild  phlox 
there  had  lo  be  a  new  arranjjemenl  for  livinn. 

It  worked  to  advantage.  I3cnjy  and  Cam- 
den toiled  for  weeks  previous  lo  their  mar- 
riage, lixiuK  up  Ihe  old  Terry  place  as  a  col- 

▲AAAAAAAAAAAA 

When  the  infant  begins  to  walk,  it 
thinks  it  lives  in  strange  times. 

—TURKISH  PROVERB 

TTTTTTTTTVTTV 

ta^t;  for  theinselvcs  and  their  future  family 
if  ever  Ihey  would  own  one.  Benjy  had 
money  in  Ihe  bank,  and  he  employed  a  Wolf 
Center  carpenter  and  plumber,  and  he  and 
Camden  painted  outside  and  in. 

The  fate  of  farmers  had  improved.  Prices 
went  up.  and  there  were  Government  checks, 
and  electricity  brought  down  into  our  region 
on  high  hues.  We  sported  trucks  and  tele- 
phones and  suchlike,  where  in  many  cases 
we  hadn't  experienced  them  before;  and  my 
mother  loved  the  radio,  and  kept  it  going  on 
a  shelf  above  her  dishpans.  But  though  we 
had  all  grown  modern  and  prosperous,  we 
slill  loved  lo  hunt  our  dogs,  and  did  so  as 
much  as  was  morally  ix)ssible.  Sometimes  it 
seemed  that  we  were  even  immorally  neglect- 
ful of  other  mailers,  when  foxes  smelled 
sweel  and  the  first  lovely  squall  tuned  up 
on  the  jump. 

Spring  liked  lo  keep  his  ftne  stock  close 
lo  hand,  so  only  Little  Lady  dwell  with 
Benjy  and  Camden.  That  was  fitting,  for 
Camden  had  reared  her  from  the  first.  But 
Spring  went  a-calling  over  there  whenever 
the  spirit  moved  him,  and  that  was  fre- 
quently. He  sal  often  on  the  canvas  porch 
swing  with  the  pink  nose  of  this  fabulous 
animal  pushed  against  his  Irouser  leg.  Just 
call  her  a  Davis  dog. 

These  knowledges  and  understandings  pre- 
vailed in  my  mind  on  this  night;  I  studied 
them  and  found  them  good. 

Then  came  a  clarion  echo,  like  the  love 
song  of  some  savage  ghost  who  paced  across 
the  wooded  miles  all  dressed  in  deerskins  and 
his  eagle  feathers. 

It  was  a  baying  which  commanded  over 
all  the  insects,  and  Benjy  and  I  heard  it  first 
because  our  ears  were  younger. 

"She's  in  front  again."  He  spoke  without 
exasperating  pride,  but  just  as  if  he'd  said 
the  world  was  round. 

"That's  a  good  chop,  right  up  there  with 
her."  and  I  was  taking  note  of  otir  own 
Vinegar  Blink,  who  was  keenly  close  on  the 
fox,  even  if  he  couldn't  sing  like  Kale  Smith 
or  someone  else. 

(Continued  on  Page  141) 


W  I 


I    <<    I     II     N    \  I, 


Welcome  Spring 
Stride  Rites 


Gay  young  styles  .  .  .  skillfully  crafted  to  give  little 
feet  the  sound  protection  only  quality  construction  can  offer 
...  to  provide  them  with  firm  support,  important  growing 
room,  and  carefree  comfort.  Let  your  child  romp  through  Spring 
in  these  fine  shoes,  made  .  .  .  and  fitted  . . .  with  utmost  care. 
See  your  STRIDE  RITE  dealer  soon. 


THE 


TRIDE  RITE 


Ri 


Green  Shoe  Mfg.  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


140 


I,   A    13    1    E  S 


II    O    M  K 


.1    O    L)    R    N   A  L 


April,  1  : 


Your  favorite  bathroom 
tissue  has  new  softness 
and  whiteness,  greater  body 
. . .  at  no  increase  in  price 


.V 


New  ScotTissue  is  gentler  than  ever  for  baby's  thinner  skin 

Advances  in  papermaking  science  have  made  it  possible!  New 
ScotTissue  is  "water-woven"  by  a  new  process  to  bring  you  a 
new  wonderful  softness.  Only  Scott  makes  a  tissue  this  way. 

Whiter  too!  Only  pure  "white"  pulp  goes  into  each  roll  of  the 
New  ScotTissue. 

This  new  improved  tissue  is  now  on  sale  at  your  grocer's. 
It  is  another  great  Scott  paper  value  .  .  .  more  popular  than  ever. 
So  be  sure  you  get  a  supply  for  your  family  right  now. 

1,000  Sheets— Over  Vi  More  Than  the  650 
Sheets  You  Get  From  Most  Other  Brands 

1,000  Sheets  fo  a  mill 

■  "ScotTissue,"  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


New  ScotTissue  is  so  soft,  yet  instantly  absorbent  and  stron 
enougli  to  resist  shredding 


2  ROLLS  OF  SCOTTISSUE  GIVE  YOU  MORE  SHEET! 
THAN  3  ROLLS  OF  MOST  OTHER  BRANDS 


I      V    I'     I     I      '  II     <•  M 


I         I  I      II     N     \    I  111 


Nexl  I\1<»nll 


((  nllllllllfil  Inilll  I'llttC  /.lO) 

My  fallicT  took  ;i  ncxt-lo-lhc-lasl  saiiiplc 
liis  wlusUy.  "  I'll  testify  to  Cod."  lie  said, 
fhcy  do  |)ack  well,  Spring;.  Our'n  imd 

HI 'll." 

SiMiiiK  Davis  siiiik'd  uiidor  his  nuistailic 
d  loiichcd  his  (iiinors  on  the  l)ini;lc  hp. 
("lu'y  always  have,  Cal." 
Old;,  (Hi'k,  oivk.  I  st(X)d  and  snapped  my 
i^^c'is  in  pleasure,  and  coimled  onl  the 
nies  of  (hose  v\f  owned,  and  Henjy  named 
e  Davises'.  Old  Spring  just  leaned  auaiiisl 
)laek-oak  trunk,  and  crushed  a  sandwich  m 
i  lonn  claw  iiand.  His  ears  were  iiearint; 
iy  one  nood  lrum|)et  over  all  the  cl.-ickiii^;. 
He  said,  '"{"here  never  lived  a  voice  like 
at  in  any  lime  or  nation.  Kxceptin^;  one." 
My  father  took  a  final  swallow  from  his 
sk.  and  screwed  the  top  back  on;  lie  tossed 
Ml  tiie  Ikimes.  And  pretty  soon  the  llask 
)ul(l  Inirsl  like  any  lioinl).  and  then  we  all 
lukl  dodne.  and  lauKli;  and  Spring  would 
like  iiis  head,  and  ask  my  pa  liow  s(K)n 
'd  i^row  up,  anyway. 

I'a  said,  "You'd  iiave  some  other  mouths 
Hood.  With  luck  you'd  net  a  one  or  tvvo, 
any  lilti'r  tiial 
u  hred." 

■iprinKlield  sighed, 
d  ale  the  last  re- 
linders  of  his 
Klwich.  "Thai's 
1  rub,"  his  foi^t^y 
ice  declared.  "We 
n't  agree.  I  guess 
breed  her, 
t  " 

"Well,  she  ain't 
idy  to  be  inlro- 
ced  to  anyone  to- 
;hl,"  my  father 
d.  "Now,  Bake, 
>t  set  and  listen 
the  tune." 
And  tiiere  I  was, 
t  saying  anything. 
St  marveling  at  it 
.  F'or  we  were 
ppy;  and  strange 
vas  to  reason  that 
:h  pleasantness 
uld  ever  have 
lerged  from  alllhe 
lelties  which  lay 
us  before  —espe- 
.lly  upon  the  Da- 
les.OldSpringliad 
in  a  neighbor  for 
igle  Ann's  own 
ve,  and  faced  his 
nalty  without  a 

irmur ;  but  still  the  daughter  of  that  mur- 
red  man  had  been  the  key  to  open  up 
;  jailhouse  door.  So  we  were  joyful, 
:)ugh  never  speaking  much  about  it.  We 
d  no  inkling  of  the  fury  to  come. 
Spring  talked  about  this  breeding  busi- 
es, wfien  the  fox  trail  swept  off  distantly 
ain  and  took  the  voices  from  our  ears, 
metimes  he  felt  a  mood  to  tell  fine  stories 
the  days  agone:  the  war  he'd  known  when 
was  beardless,  and  feuds  and  fightings, 
d  the  bushwhack  days.  How  he  was 
lunded  at  Pea  Ridge,  and  people  held  him 
wn  to  probe  the  bullet  from  his  thigh.  He 
d  the  bullet  yet ;  it  weighed  an  ounce,  and 
'd  let  children  hold  the  lead,  but  never  let 
;m  use  it  for  a  marble,  though  they  prayed 
frequently. 

'n  this  night  he  talked  about  great  fox- 
unds  of  the  past— how  tall  they  bred  them 
m,  and  how  they  holed  a  panther  till  tfie 
!nfolks  smoked  it  out.  He  spoke  of  Triple 
ouble.  Triple  Choke  and  Buck-and-Ball— 
i  long-eared  dogs  my  grandfather  had 
ned— and  how,  if  they  were  living  in  this 
2,  he'd  admire  to  bring  one  of  them  to 
itle  Lady. 

Benjy  spoke  his  share.  They  chewed  it 
ck  and  forth;  they  never  could  agree.  Not 
ying  Bobby  Ford,  said  Benjy,  or  any  other 
aitland  which  he  knew.  The  Lanceys 
■ned  some  good  producers,  and  two  of 
2m  were  ready  for  the  stud;  but  Spring 
5t  snorted  loud,  he  prophesied  their  faults. 
It  was  half  an  hour  later  when  the  fox 
led,  over  in  the  Bachelor's  timber,  and  we 


"/  lie  iiiysclj  hliic  in  the  Jiice  on 
tlirir  silly  iini'stiiiniHiirt's.  I  i>o  iiriniiul 
siniliiifi  till  I  tliini;  mv  Jiicc  ivill 
cidt  k.  I  iiilliitilf  llic  iiicrrv  iciiv.s  of 
Idiih'o.  hoi  ioii  titi'ii  (in  fill  m  i/K's, 
iiiliniic  llwii  I  liildicn  .  .  ." 


'I  I  I'.l  ,1,1']  kiicu  .she  wuH 
iii;;  ualched.  I'A  cry  ihiiif;  she 
did  anil  suid  wciil  strai<;lil  iiilo  a 
lillle  (iU-  marked  'X  W  ■— m  lii.li 
inoani  I'lxfciilive's  Wife.  \ii<l  if 
lluTC  were  loo  tiiaiiy  lilack  marks 
hy  licr  name,  (lalilex  (lonipany 
iniglil  nol  approve. 

Head  ihe  amii.'^iii^,  liearl-wanuini; 
slory  of  a  hride  ulio  diseovers  she 
lives  in  a  ^lass  lionsc — and  <loc» 
.sonielliin^  alioiil  il. 

MHEWOKKS 
J  OK  MTCllELLK 

By  lulit  ard  Hope 

NOVEL  COMPLETE 
TN  TIIK  VI AY  .101  KWI. 


broiiKhl  Ihe  hoiindH  in  and  put  ihem  m  tlieir 
lx)xes.  Oiwv  more  the  Davm  lnn>le  came  to 
play;  thai  was  the  mtiiinions  l.nile  Lady  an- 
swered to,  as  h.id  her  moliier  »M  fore  lu-r  We 
floiised  the  hre  and  prepared  lo  ko  |  ihoii«hl 
alxnii  how  we  worked  ihiH  enierprmt:,  and 
how  our  dojjs  enjr)yed  it  i<x):  a  race,  wiili  no 
inlent  lo  kill  in.leed.  we  cherished  all  our 
foxes. 

/// 

I'amdI'IN  DAVIS  she  thai  was  a  Terry 
came  by  oiu  place  alxnit  len  o'cliK-k  the  nexl 
morning.  This  was  AukuhI.  wilh  llie  corn 
beyond  any  necesmty  for  combini!  ii;  our 
small  grain  wasciil;  there  was  some  pifldlmg 
work  to  do  in  our  big  garden  patch,  but  I  got 
a  dose  of  energy  aiul  cleaned  the  sl.-ible  out 
instead. 

There  I  st(x)d,  fork  in  my  hands,  and  nigh 
up  lo  my  knees  in  straw  and  other  Htiiff. 
when  C  amden  drove  her  way  down  the  lane. 
I  felt  a  mile  embarrassed,  dirty  as  I  was;  she 
always  hxiked  so  clean  and  like  a  little  girl, 
and  fresh.  She  had  the  ruddy  hair  of  Terry 
folks,  but  there  resemblance  stopiK-d;  her 
face  and  eyes  and 
mouth  were  made 
for  (jualily  and  gen- 
tleness, like  all  the 
Camden  tribe. 

"Just  wondered." 
she  cried,  "whether 
your  mother  had 
any  trading  I  could 
do  for  her  in  town?" 

I  hid  Ix'hind  a 
wagon,  for  my  shirt 
was  off.  "  Don't 
know.  You  belter 
gel  out  and  go  in 
and  ask  her.  You 
going  lo  Wolf  Cen- 
ter?" 

She  shut  olT  the 
engine  and  stepped 
to  the  ground,  slim 
and  dainty  and 
graceful.  I  envied 
Benjy  Davis,  and 
so  might  any  man. 
She  gave  a  giggle  as 
she  turned  toward 
the  house.  "Main 
puriJosc  of  my  er- 
rand is  to  gel  some 
extra  chicken  wire. 
He's  eking  out  that 
old  pen  on  the  slope, 
and  reselling  the 
posts." 

So  that  was  where  he  would  retire  Little 
Lady  to,  this  trip.  Earlier  they  used  lo  pen 
her  at  the  Davises",  and  that  made  for 
hullabaloo,  wilh  other  hounds  around. 

"It's  a  g(X)d  place,  Camden."  I  agreed. 
"Ground  slopes  enough  so  any  rain  will 
clean  the  place  out  properly.  I  don't  trust 
these  dog  runs  on  the  bottom  land.  They're 
germ  collectors  and  distemper  breeders." 

She  nodded,  and  went  to  speak  lo  ma,  who 
only  wanted  blue  yarn  and  some  arnica.  We 
always  did  that,  back  and  forth,  when  any- 
one was  driving  into  Iowti:  it  saved  a  lot  of 
fuss  and  gas. 

I  was  past  their  place,  a  few  days  after, 
and  Benjy  showed  the  structure  off  with 
pride.  Little  Lady  stood  within  the  mesh, 
and  tried  to  signal  me  how  glad  she  was  lo 
see  a  friend. 

"You  approached  any  decision  yet?"  I 
asked  of  Benjy. 

He  shook  his  head.  "Tried  lo  interest  pa 
in  the  Lancey  idea  again,  but  no  good  luck. 
That  big  Champ  Clark  of  theirs  is  always 
out  in  front,  he'll  run  a  fox  until  it  walks;  but 
pa  says  that  he's  got  a  parrot  jaw." 

A  few  days  more,  and  Little  Lady  had  a 
visitor. 

Just  where  this  particular  suitor  came 
from,  nobody  ever  knew.  But  he  was  there 
when  Camden  looked  out  early  one  after- 
noon. He  was  silling  just  outside  the  pen, 
looking  in  at  Little  Lady,  and  she  lay  there 
solemn  with  her  nose  squeezing  the  grass, 
and  let  him  look. 

Camden  didn't  recognize  this  creature  as 
belonging  to  any  farm  in  the  neighborhood. 


BONDED  SOLH5  o^o  e 

--ACROBAT  SHOES 

GIVE  YOU  PARENTS 
THIS  AMAZING,  LONGER 

90  +  10 

WEAR  GUARANTEE! 
N<iw,  AfTolmt  aK<tin  cuto  kIum-  ri>i>i«  miiIi  tiuii  ImiKi-r,  ktroiiKT 
i:<i\iiKii  H<ii.».  (iiiiiraiilif . , .  KNI  full  ilayit.  A>ik  \our  <l<tiliT.  I'ut 
your  eliilil  ill  the  only  uliui-  wilh  miij:  oi. aiia.ntkkii  to  wear 
uulil  your  cliilii'ii  fMAt-KrowiiiK  fiMit  in  n-iuly  for  a  lurtcr  »luMr 
.si/.e.  SuuirteHl  filyli-»  for  lH»yii  uii'l  ({irl».  (Tiuilv  to  juiiuir  high. 


$495  to  ^6^5 


motl  tlyUt,  according  lo  tiie 


For  nomn  ol  ni»of«ll  d"ol"f  wrllr- 

im  r  .1/1  f  A'  !■ 


A  COUP. 


SHO(S  FOR  BOYS  AND  OIRlS 


Jhmft't  a  monn'nh  /ooir  lo  ffwt  OfV-coo/*^  MtSH 

M  iiril.v  ii\|iiii|  HI  '   '  r. 

\vlieiil-<'olnr<-)|  ii\ loll  nil 
nii-Jtli.  idlKKed,  Mi-xilile  \'  -  ,r- 

diciit  of  euimlruetiuii  fur  limtiiiK  kimmI  Ht. 


TlliTi  '-  dill  l.ir  Mill  nil. 11  you 
j<lill  lllf  ArllllllAT  IIAM  II  t  l.l  ll. 

Ank  intilliiT  ll)  rill  in  thin 
iiifiirniiilion  ho  roe  rnii  Im>- 
coiiK'  all  umciAL  aciiou.it 
u.i.Ncui;u. 


I'w  U  1  >  ,  <i  .\in. 1,1.1  lUiiili.  |)-'|il.  I.HJ-t.l 

(■rllrrnl  Slliir  lIllildiiiK.  Najitivillr  i,  'rninrMre 


Same. 


ChiltTt  Same . 


Aildrru. 


till/. 


.  Zone . 


..SlaU. 


DOLL'S  MAGIC 
NYLON  HAIR 

Toni  Playwave  Kit 
Wifh  Eoch  Toni  Doll 

At  better  doll  dept 


IT'S  A  WONDERFUL  TOY  . .  ■  IT'S 


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*  You  can  protect  a  7.0  cu.  ft.  clonal 
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only  1  Apex  Moth  Vaporizui,  ' 
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of  Apex  Moth  Crystals  or 
NuccETS.  U«e  as  di- 
rected on  label. 
APEX  MOTH  CAK£-2  Jim 
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ANNIVERSARY 


Since  1853  the  name  ostermoor 

has  stood  for  the  finest  in  mattress  ^^^^H^^^^^^ 
quality  and  the  utmost  in  supreme  sleep  comfort  ^^^^^^^ 

Sec  your  local  deafer  or  write  "OSTEItMOOR".  Chicago  16,  III.,  or  Bridgeport,  Conn. 


OSTERMOOR 

V     f853 '^-^rteAlccCd  Qzcaeca/  TnaZtted^  7953 


142 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  19: 


THE   SMARTEST  TABLES 
ARE    LOVELY  WITH... 

QUAKER  LACE 


G^ila  Pattern  No.  4370  {Rayon  und  Colt(in) 
Pat.  Applied  for 


Lace  casts  a  web  of  enchantment 
over  your  party  table.  Lace  is  gay,  festive, 
yet  practical  when  the  family  gathers 
round.  Be  sure  it's  Quaker  Lace. 

Quaker  Lace  has  many  special  advantages. 
Exquisite  "heirloom"  patterns  that  are  amazingly  sturdy 
(every  stitch  locked  in  place).  And  so  economical. 
Wrinkles  smooth  away,  spots  sponge  off  quickly, 
washing  is  easy.  See  the  beautiful  new 
designs  at  your  favorite  store,  including 
Quaker's  Fantasy,  Como,  and 
Florentine  Cloths  in  color. 


Quaker  Cloths  in  sizes  for  any  tahle. 
Priced  from  $5.95  to  $49.95  depending 
on  cloth  size  and  quality. 


Quaker  Lace  Company,  Philadelphia  33,  Pa. 
Sales  Office:  330  Fifth  Ave.,  New  York  1,  N.  Y. 


LACE  CLOTHS 


Also  makers  oj  QUAKER  CUKTAINS, 

Quaker  Nylon  Hosiery  and  Quaker  Colony  Bedspreads 


and  no  wonder.  This  new  character  looked  as 
if  he  had  started  out  to  be  a  hound  and  then 
decided  to  be  an  Airedale  as  an  afterthought. 
His  face  was  spiny  as  an  acre  of  brown  bur- 
dock; his  eyes  were  glass;  he  looked  pauper- 
ish  and  used  up — a  kind  of  tramp  and  gypsy 
who  had  no  moral  scruples  so  far  as  other 
people's  chickens  were  concerned.  Or  other 
people's  ladies,  big  or  Little. 

Camden  went  out  and  said  "Shoo,  get 
away."  and  made  as  if  to  pick  up  a  rock  and 
heave  it  at  him;  so  obligingly  he  got  out  of 
the  way,  but  not  as  if  he  believed  it  was  a  real 
rock  she  was  throwing. 

"  You  go  away,"  ordered  the  young  woman 
in  her  little-girl  voice,  and  she  pretended  to 
find  another  imaginary  bullet  to  let  fly  at 
him.  So  the  hairy-faced  coot  trotted  off  an- 
other few  yards,  and  then  he  turned  and 
observed,  and  sat  down  calmly  on  his 
haunches.  He  sat  with  fuzzy  face  directed 
square  at  Little  Lady;  he  gave  Camden 
Davis  vo  more  heed,  though  she  played  at 
throwing  further  stones,  and  actually  did 
sling  a  handful  of  gravel  which  went  wide 
of  the  mark. 

Then  down  she  strolled,  all  the  way  to  the 
pen,  and  petted  Little  Lady  through  the 
fence,  calling  her  baby  names  as  women 
will;  I  reckon  Little  Lady  liked  that  part 
well  enough.  But  now  and  again  the  hound 
would  twist  her  neck  away  from  Camden's 
hands.  Ears  and  deep  wide  eyes  and  famous 
muzzle,  she  would  turn  to  gaze  at  that 
stickery  old  wretch  a-squatting  in  the  sun. 

You  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with 
some  rapscallion  like  that,  would  you, 
honey?"  said  Camden.  And  then,  building 
an  answer  which  was  certainly  unfair  to  Lit- 
tle Lady's  fervent  inclinations:  "No,  of 
course  you  wouldn't.  You're  fine  and  special. 
You're  by  Proctor  Pride  out  of  Bugle  Ann. 
You're  the  one  like  her,"  and  so  she  pro- 
ceeded, as  she  confessed  afterward,  uttering 
scornful  things  about  that  shaggy  heathen, 
and  fabricating  more  denials  than  even  the 
most  confirmed  old  maid  among  foxhounds 
would  have  desired  to  speak. 

No  neighbors  stopped  by  during  the  after- 
noon, and  Benjy  himself  did  not  appear 
until  it  was  time  for  the  evening  chores.  One 
of  the  Pettigrews  had  lain  sick  for  a  month, 
so  everybody  was  over  there,  pitching  in  on 
the  threshing. 

Camden  heard  the  sound  of  Benjy 's  car; 
she  ran  out  to  kiss  him,  ready  to  help  with 
milking  and  feed,  and  bragging  about  the 
guinea  hen  she  was  fixing  for  supper. 

"  How's  Little  Lady  ?  "  he  wanted  to  know. 

"She's  not  happy  in  that  chicken  pen." 

"Happy  or  not,  there  she  stays,"  said 
Benjy  Davis.  "If  we  don't  make  up  our 
minds  about  breeding  her  this  trip,  it's  just 
her  hard  luck." 

Camden  told  him  about  the  gentleman 
caller,  if  such  an  elegant  term  could  be  used, 
and  Benjy  started  off  toward  the  chicken 
run  with  speed. 

"Oh,  Benjy.  He  won't  hurt  her.  That 
wire's  tough  enough;  he  can't  get  to  her." 

Benjy  glowered  over  his  shoulder.  "Natu- 
rally he  wouldn't  hurt  her.  But  I  don't  want 
him  hanging  around.  I  mistrust  all  the 
hounds  in  this  county  holding  a  convention 
here.  Which  one  is  he?  You  didn't  say." 

"  'Course  I  didn't,  hon.  I  don't  know.  He's 
brushy  in  the  face.  Looks  something  like 
Whisky  Wilson,  down  in  front  of  the  pool 
hall  at  Wolf  Center." 

That  mutt-skinned  hound  never  lingered. 
He  hiked  away,  showing  more  speed  than 
Benjy  could  have  guessed.  He  ran  clean 
across  the  run  which  puddled  down  the  slope 
below  the  barnyard,  and  then  in  usual  fashion 
he  sat  down  and  stared  with  his  glass  eyes. 

Benjy  threw  a  few  rocks;  all  came  close, 
none  struck.  He  hoped  that  would  be  proper 
warning,  and  hastened  up  to  his  chores  so 
Camden  wouldn't  feel  obliged  to  undertake 
the  heavy  work.  Benjy  figured  that  women- 
folks had  enough  to  do  in  their  houses,  and 
it  galled  him  to  imagine  Camden  handling  a 
pitchfork;  his  own  mother  had  had  to  do 
that  often  enough  when  he  and  his  father 
got  overly  engaged  with  the  dogs.  He  was 
ashamed  of  certain  things  in  the  past,  and 
swore  he'd  never  make  those  selfish  errors 


America's  Favorite  Gravy  Make)^ 


makes  delicious  STEWS 

Cut  1  lb.  boneless  beef  or  veal  into 
inch  cubes.  Brown  well  in  2  tbsps. 
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water.  Dissolve  2  tsps.  Wilson'; 
B-V  in  a  little  of  the  hot  water  and 
add.  Cover  and  simmer  IVz  hrs.  oi 
until  meat  is  tender.  Add  4  to  6  eacl 
of  potatoes,  carrots  and  onion! 
either  whole  or  cut  (1  cup  of  slice< 
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30  to  45  min.  until  tender.  Thicken 
gravy  with  5  tbsp.  each  of  flour  and 
water  mixed  to  a  paste.  Serves  4-6. 

FREE  BOOK 

of  26  appetizing  B-V 
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Prices  postpaid  if  your  dealer  cannot  furnish.  Stamps  a 
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CORN 


Designed  on  the  true  filter  principle. 

Aluminum  mesh  stops  grease,  permits  steam 
to  escape.  Easily  washed.  In  two  sizes,  to  fit 
7"-9"  or  9"-1 1"  pans.  A  product  of  Research 
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AT  tEADING  HARDWARE  AND  DEPARTMENT  STORES 


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Grand  St.,  N.Y.  City,  Dept.  H-4.  I 


jCry  this 
Tuna 

tiek-am/ 

iVIade  with 
FORMAN'S 

flccdlilfi 


To  I  can  tuna,  add 
c.  Forman's  Picca- 
i,  I  c.  dry  bread 
umbs,  I  beaten 
g,  V*  c.milk,  'A  tsp. 
alt.  Shape  into  pal- 
es and  fry. 


9S 


FULL 
1  lb. 
JAR 


REE  53  new  recipes  for  luncheon  and 
3per  treats  with  Forman's  Piccalilli, 
rife:  Dept  L-4 


ORMAN'S 

PICCALILLI 

Pitfsford,  N.Y. 


iggesf  Bargain  in  your  kitchen! 


K  DELAXCOI 


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ft  MID-DAY 
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step-stool  is  comfortably  uphol- 
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'West  of  the  Mississippi  -$13.95 


I 


Ins  fill  her  nmUi.  liowi-v.  r  niui  h  In-  wor- 
shiped S|)rin^:liel(l  Davis.  S<>  did  w.-  all. 

When  Camden  and  Uenjy  came  liack  lo- 
nether,  lo  feed  Liuli-  I^„|y  ;,iid  clianne  licr 
water,  and  l)ai)y  her  awhile,  there  was  thai 
Siime  hairy  Hava^!e  just  otilsi<le  the  wire, 
fairly  i)e^;^;in^{  for  rudest  immslimeni.  A^':llll 
the  running  feet  and  yells  :md  stones  Ix  iiiK 
IlimK;  one  must  have  lui  the  wretch  this 
lime,  for  lie  ^;ave  a  yip,  and  Camden  presHed 
her  hand  against  her  moiilh. 

She  cried,  "Oh,  Ik'njy!" 

"I'laniie  that  hii/zard." 

"Hul  you  ouKi^ln't  lo  really  hurt  him." 

"I've  >{ot  to  hurl  him  to  make  hmi  stay 
clear  of  her.  Stipixise  he  managed  to  sneak 
under  that  wire  when  our  hiicks  were  turned? 
My  i)a  would  never  forgive  us;  I  swear  he'd 
never  speak  a  word  to  us  a^ain.  If 
lie  shook  his  head  and  said  no  more. 

Then  later  Ihey  went  in  m(X)nli^;hl  lo  lake 
Little  Lady  for  a  walk,  and  she  frisked  al 
liie  end  of  a  piece  of  dolhesline  which  Cam- 
den held  wrapiH'd  around  her  own  wrist. 
Henjy  was  taking  no  chances;  every  so  often 
heel  say,  "Wail,"  or  "Hold  on  a  minute," 
iind  all  three  of  them  would  stop  and  stand. 
l(K)kinK  out  across  those  hills  which  seemed 
lo  iiave  melted  and  siKX)ned  lo^;ether  in  the 
mist. 

Surely  they  had  a  Presence  followinn  on. 
He  danced  well  out  of  ran^e  of  switch  or  any 
stones  which  could  be  slunv;.  and  mostly  out 
of  their  combined  si«ht  ttx).  Far  up  the  creek 
some  of  us  were  out  with  our  doKS  myself 
and  my  father  Cal  Royster,  and  maybe  a 
Lanccy  or  two.  The  hounds  were  driving 
a  fox  south  of  the  Bachelor's  timber,  and  it 
was  hard  to  tell  the  boss. 

Once  Little  Lady  swun^  her  muzzle  hi^h, 
and  seemed  about  to  give  fair  voice  in  an- 
swer. Bui  iiood  custom  rules:  she  was  no 

OOOGOGOOOOG 


To  be  loved,  be  lovable. 

—OVID 

OOOGOOGGOOOOO 

babbler,  nor  came  from  any  cheap  line. 
Therefore  she  lowered  her  nose  again  and 
ullered  a  kind  of  sigh,  and  that  was  all. 
She'd  never  give  voice  to  a  fox  which  other 
hounds  were  working;  it  had  to  be  her  own 
quarry  if  she  was  lo  tongue  it.  Times  she'd 
lift  her  ears  slightly,  and  gaze  into  creeping 
shadows  where  the  mist  lay  like  flat  while 
rivers  above  each  low  place.  She  knew  thai 
that  unkempt  stranger  with  the  broom- 
stubble  face  was  lurking  nigh ;  her  nose  told 
her.  If  dogs  do  make  up  their  minds  I  guess 
hers  was  made  up  before  this,  and  she  must 
have  concluded  she  would  bide  her  lime. 

They  closeted  Little  Lady  securely,  and 
went  to  their  rest —sleeping  close,  I  would 
guess,  as  people  do  when  they're  in  love.  Bui 
still  that  spiny  reprobate  clung,  lo  speak  in  si- 
lence his  eagerness  toward  the  creature  whom 
he  courted  —to  lie  near,  persuading  and 
promising  and  templing  her  —as  if  she  needed 
promise  or  the  barest  temptation.  For  he  had 
a  well-sel  vigor  about  him;  its  beginning  lay 
way  yonder  in  the  choke  of  katydids.  He  was 
lingering  lo  hand  again  when  the  sun  came 
fresh. 

^►Vhere  he  ate  or  slept,  no  one  ever  knew, 
or  even  whether  he  ate  or  slept.  Camden 
spoke  of  him  as  Bristles,  for  he  was  aflower 
with  them;  but  no  prince  of  fairy  legend  ever 
kept  a  truer  vigil. 

And  he  had  gall,  because  when  other  dogs 
approached  he  would  rise  and  shine  his  teeth 
and  build  wicked  sounds  within  his  throat  that 
bespoke  his  claim  lo  Little  Lady's  graces. 
Some  of  the  local  hounds  did  get  loose  and 
scamper  toward  the  Terry  farm,  as  most  of 
us  still  called  it.  Old  Bristles  handled  every 
one. 

Toul  Sector  there  was,  an  ancient  pen- 
sioner of  my  own.  who  could  mingle  behind 
a  fox  fast  and  well  if  he  was  properly  es- 
corted, but  who  had  run  as  many  miles  upon 
his  own  trail,  giving  full  voice  the  while,  as 
he  had  on  any  varmint's.  He  seemed  lo  for- 
get the  rheumatics  of  the  elderly  which  now 


PROUD  WE  ARE  OF  THE  NEW  EUREKA  Roto-Matic 


No  more  chas- 
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cleaning  clips  right  to  side  of 
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SUPER-POWERED 

EUREKA 

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SWIVEL-TOP  CLEANER 

Eureka  Division,  Eureka  Williams  Corporation,  Blocmington,  Illinois 


144 


I,    V   D    T    E  S 


H    O    M  E 


J    O    U    R    N    A  L 


STEPS  TO  A 
MORE 
BEAUTIFUL 
HOME  .  .  . 


No 


iyfo^OK Jones 


I  o  one  offers  more  for  the  money  in 
rugs  than  Morgan-Jones.  The  textures  speak  for 
themselves.  The  long-wear  will  amaze  you.  The 
glowing  colors  offer  thrills  in  decorating.  And  the 
prices  invite  you  to  do  room  after  room! 

'^Sapphire"  ii  a  luxurious  pluth-like  surface.  Also  see 
"Bmerald  Twist"— ^an  uncut  cotton  surface  for  rugged  use. 


MORGAN-JONES  RUG  DIVISION,  Greensboro,  N.  C.  •  295  Fifth  Ave.,  N.Y. 


18  WONDERFUL 
COLORS! 


■ii 

m  mm 

■ 

■ 

IhKhm  ^^^^^ 

■ 

A 


joy  to  own!  A  lavishly  tufted  bedspread  of 
new-found  brilliance  without  the  usual  lint.  Morgan- 
Jones  fashions  it  by  weaving  special  rayon  tufts  into 
sturdy  cotton.  These  thousands  of  little  pompoms  are 
lustrous,  "springy"  like  wool,  and  bud  right  back 
into  shape  after  laundering!  The  bedspread  is 
supersize,  too — a  glorious  tribute  to  / 
any  bed.  Ask  for  the  "Radiant 
Heiress"  by  name.  In  white 
and  many  lovely  colors. 


MORGAN-JONES,  INC. 

58  Worth  St.,  New  York,  N.Y. 

(Mi//s  in  North  Carolina) 


jyio^ow Jones 


possessed  him;  he  trotted  fresh  and  willing 
through  the  fields  when  some  peculiar  grape- 
vine summons  concerning  Little  Lady 
reached  him. 

Old  Bristles  dove  out  of  the  currant  bushes 
where  he  had  been  a-guarding,  and  in  short 
order  Toul  Sector  was  headed  homeward  on 
three  legs,  loudly  advising  every  younger 
hound  between  Lost  Run  and  the  Indian 
River  to  keep  away  from  that  particular 
hillside. 

Later  there  came  Five  Point  Nine  and 
Saint  Nazaire,  both  from  our  bunch;  and  it 
was  told  that  J.  N.  Garner  eluded  the  watch- 
fulness of  Spring  Davis  and  made  the  pil- 
grimage he  felt  compelled  to  make. 

Then  the  Armstrongs.  Names  of  the  Arm- 
strong dogs  reflected  the  inclination  of  old 
Ed,  who  was  an  ardent  shouter  down  at  the 
Nazarene  Church,  and  of  his  sons.  One  boy 
was  the  undisputed  call-shot  champion  at 
the  pool  parlor,  and  the  other  bought  movie 
magaz-ines  every  week  and  tried  to  talk  like 
Jimmy  Cagney.  Thus  Ephesian  and  Willie 
Hoppe  and  King  Herod  and  Marion  Davies 
all  patted  the  dust  of  the  Armstrong  place 
off  their  paws,  one  time  or  another,  and 
made  the  same  visit  with  the  identical  high 
intention.  Seemed  like  there  was  a  kind  of 
shuttle  running,  with  a  parade  of  foxhounds 
venturing  nigh,  and  another  parade  journey- 
ing away  over  the  pasture,  but  speedier, 
and  giving  more  agonized  remarks  than  they 
had  made  a-coming. 

"You  ought  to  quit  throwing  rocks,"  cried 
Camden  to  her  husband  in  indignation. 
"You  ought  to  quit  breathing  fire  and 
slaughter  against  that  poor 
fellow.  You  ought  to  give 
him  a  medal  instead." 

Benjy  grunted.  "A  mite 
of  dust  and  sprinkle,  with 
a  dose  of  gunpowder  be- 
hind it.  would  go  better." 

Camden  showed  pallor 
as  she  always  showed  it 
when  there  was  mention 
of  guns.  The  former  porch 
was  gone,  and  a  modern 
one  of  different  dimensions 
stood  constructed  in  its  place;  but  still  she 
might  remember  how  her  father  had  fallen 
from  the  porch  with  a  bullet  through  him,  and 
the  best  dishpan  knocked  off  its  hook  behind. 

"  Don't  you  dare  to  fire  on  that  dog,  Benjy 
Davis." 

"Well  " 

She  looked  out,  now  and  again,  when 
Benjy  was  busy  in  the  fields,  and  observed 
how  Bristles  hung  outside  that  chicken  wire, 
making  his  best  manners  to  Little  Lady 
through  the  mesh.  It  was  no  longer  an  irk 
she  felt  bound  to  resist— only  a  sore  pity  in 
her  heart.  Again  she  would  cry  to  herself, 
Whal  a  shame!  If  he  was  only  a  purebred  fox- 
hoimd — even  an  Armstrong  or  a  PeUigreiv  

Bristles  looked  more  gaunt  and  sorry  than 
ever,  though  Little  Lady  didn't  seem  to  take 
offense.  Finally  Camden  could  stand  it  no 
longer,  with  her  kindly  heart  and  all.  When 
she  saw  Bristles  weak  and  close  beside  the 
pen,  nuzzling  an  old  ear  of  corn  as  hard  as 
flint,  she  was  fit  to  be  tied.  Water  he  could 
get  close  to  hand,  but  food  for  stray  dogs 
there  was  none;  and  Little  Lady  had  her 
own  pan  which  Benjy  kept  fastened  far  be- 
hind the  wire. 

Camden  cooked  up  a  huge  mess  of  corn- 
meal  mush  with  cracklings  liberally  within 
it.  She  bore  out  this  giant's  ration  for  the 
appreciation  of  Bristles,  who  took  and  fled 
when  he  sensed  her  coming. 

But  he  was  back  in  no  time,  smelling  in 
amazement  as  if  he  couldn't  believe  his  own 
true  nose;  and  then  he  really  set  to  work, 
with  the  pretty  gyp  watching  him  earnestly 
from  within  h5r  jail,  and  approving  with 
every  nod  of  her  ears. 

About  that  time  something  boiled  over  on 
the  stove,  for  Camden  was  a-canning  pickles, 
and  she  couldn't  watch  longer  through  the 
window.  Thus  she  forgot  about  the  guilty 
evidence  of  that  pan. 

Benjy  himself  found  it  there  when  he 
came  to  inspect  Little  Lady,  sweaty  and 
crusted  as  he  was  from  the  fields.  He 
stamped  dark-angry  into  the  kitchen,  never 


Nothing  makes  the  earth 
seem  so  spacious  as  to  have 
friends  at  a  distance.  They 
malce  the  latitudes  and 
longitudes. 

—HENRY  D.  THOREAU 

tQ0EI.EIE] 


sniffing  the  good  odors  of  vinegar  and  nn 
tard  seed. 

"Did  you  feed  that  tramp?" 

"  What  tramp?  There  hasn't  been  onene 
our  place  in  a  month  of  Sundays." 

"There's  one  right  now,  with  bad  bb 
and  scandal  about  him.  You  know  what 
mean.  Did  you  feed  that  dog?" 

Her  chin  came  up,  her  dainty  lip  turn- 
harder  than  the  old  nubbin  Bristles  hj 
tried  to  chew.  "  I  can't  bear  to  see  any  dur 
animal  in  starvation." 


E<ET  him  starve,  if  he  hain't  got  1 
sense."  The  bright  kitchen  seemed  mocki: 
them,  with  its  bridal-shower  pots  and  skilli 
still  looking  new.  "He  could  go  off  and  cat, i 
a  slew  of  ground  squirrels  if  he  wasn't 
stubborn." 

Camden  whispered,  "Hon.  I  guess 
loves  her." 

"Loves!  You  talk  like  " 

"  I  talk  just  like  you  Davises  have  alvra 
talked.  Bugle  Ann  was  a  person  to  you— s 
was  better  than  many  a  human  relatic 

Your  father   "  Tears  came;  Camd 

could  say  no  more.  She  went  flying  upstai 
and  that  was  the  first  time  she  ever  hook 
the  door  against  Benjy. 

He  ate  his  supper  in  ugly  silence  whent 
chores  were  done;  he  did  them  sole  aloi 
though  ordinarily  Camden  was  prone  tohf 
him  in  light  fashion,  and  they  even  madef 
out  of  it— singing  and  calling  little  jol 
while  they  worked,  as  young  folks  do. 

At  last  Benjy's  wife  came  down.  Her  ej 
were  raw  and  flushed,  though  she  had  dO 
up  her  soft  hair  afresh. 

Benjy  said,  "You  betl 
eat  some  supper."  i 
"I'm  not  hungry,  than! 
Reckon  I'll  take  a  glass: 
milk." 

This  was  their  first  quj 
rel  since  marriage,  bu| 
was  an  important  oi 
and  not  done  yet  by  t 
means.  Anything  wrf 
concerned  Little  Ladyfl 
bound  to  be  impressi 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Bugle  Ann,  al 
thus  fame  and  some  misery  and  a  certi 
ghostliness  would  be  her  lot.  1 
Well  apart,  Camden  and  Benjy  roosted 
the  porch,  she  in  the  swing  and  he  on  f 
steps.  They  heard  the  first  hounds  of  even| 
beguiling  among  the  higher  reaches  ' 
Heaven  Creek  where  some  of  the  neighbi 
hood  boys  were  out .  The  moon  was  not  yet  i 
and  there  lived  a  thick  canvas  of  clouds  1 
it  to  hang  behind  when  it  did  appear. 

Deep  plunged  in  soreness  and  in  sourne 
Benjy  didn't  even  have  the  heart  to  go  j 
sisting  after  that  undesirable  sentry  wi 
without  doubt  still  walked  his  post  outsif' 
the  pen.  Then  Little  Lady  made  a  sou] 
such  as  she  always  made  when  the  wij 
brought  her  knowledge  of  Springfield  Dav/ 
Benjy  climbed  slow  to  his  feet  and  wentf 
meet  his  father.  \ 
The  old  man  walked  frail  in  these  da>^ 
for  he  was  in  the  high  eighties  of  age,  and 
carried  a  strong  cane  of  thick-cut  willow 
help  him  on  his  course.  He  was  nearly  tre 
tall  in  the  dusk,  his  shoulders  humped  ai' 
head  carried  forward.  The  long  white  ha" 
beneath  his  hat  seemed  to  have  a  frost  y{ 
could  see  in  the  dark. 

He  came,  thin  and  dusky — just  thougl 
he'd  take  a  stroll,  he  said,  the  same  as  i 
ways.  But  both  young  folks  knew,  for 
their  spite,  that  mainly  he  had  come  to  si 
how  Little  Lady  was  doing. 

"Doing  all  right,"  Benjy  said,  speakii 
short.  "Only  trouble  we've  got  is  with 
roustabout  which  Camden  encourages 
hang  around  h^re." 

The  young  woman  had  come  down 
stand  beside  Spring  Davis.  Her  face  seem< 
to  glint  perilously  fair  in  the  gloom. 

Springfield  looked  at  them.  Elderly  as  I 
might  be,  he  could  smell  a  ruckus  when  oi 
was  boiling.  "What  roustabout  are  you  tall 
ing  about,  Benjy  Davis?"  he  asked  wh 
caution. 

"He's  been  here  mainly  all  week.  Just 
dirty  tramp  with  brush  upon  his  face,  whi( 
wandered  into  the  neighborhood." 


I)  I  I. 


n   «<  M  I, 


1  <*  ( 


. . .  famed  head 
of  a  famous  family ! 


Born  way  back  in  1910,  Big  Ren 
has  grown  to  be  liead  of  the  world- 
famous  Westclox  family  of  spring- 
driven  and  electric  clocks,  sturdy 
wrist  and  pocket  watches— each 
with  its  own  name  and  personality. 
Big  Ben  Loud  Alarm,  up-to-the- 
minute,  as  always,  has  a  friendly, 
reassuring  tick  you  can  hear :  a  deej), 
infermittenffire  alarm"'Call.  And 
he's  as  reliable  as  the  dav  is  long. 
S5.55.  With  luminous  dial,  S6.6(). 


And  here's  his 
popular  little  brother 

BABY  BEN  Spring-Driven  Alarm- 
has  a  quiet  tick  and  a  steady, 
cheerful  call — which  you  may  ad- 
just to  loud  or  soft.  Black  or  ivory 
finish,  S5.55.  Luminous  dial,  S6.60. 

Prices  do  not  include  tax  and  arc 
subject  to  change. 

WESTCLOX 


PRODUCTS  OF 


CORPORATION 


"I>j«s  like  iiial,"  Raid  SprinK.  "Tircy  will 
«<>  a- wandering  far,  when  Naiiiru  i.-lln  ihem 
lo.  ' 

Htnjy  said,  "Naliirf  had  Ix-ltcr  tell  Hum 
oiii-  to  net  out  of  iiere  by  tonmrrow,  or  I  won't 
.mswer  for  L<)iist(|iienceH.  V«ni  want  to  no 
down  aiul  sic  her,  pa?" 

"Always,"  Simuik  naifl,  chuckling  sliKhlly 
with  a  lalfh  m  Ins  voice.  I>uit)lless  he  was 
lliinkiiiu  of  the  line  races  I.itiie  I.ady  had 
run  and  would  run  once  nuire.  with  the  in- 
henl;incc  of  her  angelic  luinle  cry  rmnv.  Hil- 
ver  hehind  hilllop  (ires. 

And  Miayhe.  IfM),  he  thouuhl  of  pups  which 
would  come  lo  her  in  litne.  when  a  pro|K,T 
male  had  been  selected;  and  thus  her  music 
would  he  echoed  alonn  a  century  wil  h  ot  her  as 
yel  iinlx)rn  ears  to  hear  it .  Kven  if  SprniKlield 
Davis  himself  went  to  the  dust,  as  he  would 
need  to  do  hefoic  ionn;  even  if  the  Ixaies  of 
Little  Lady  settled  in  well-dedicated  soil 
where  the  relics  of  Finnic  Ann  had  alreiidy 
Kone. 

The  people  made  Ihcir  way  across  the 
yard  and  down  the  slo|w,  with  Camden 
holding  linhl  to  the  veteran's  arm.  and  Henjy 
moving  fast  ahead. 

Old  Uristles  darted  off  Ix'fore  they  k"1 
there,  and  Benjy  swore.  Siirinn  Davis  tried 
lo  SCO  the  scamp  in  dimness,  HioukIi  his 
eyes  were  weak. 

"Never  worry."  he  reassured  his  son. 
"You  not  nood,  neat,  safe,  strong  (|uarters 
for  her  to  slay  in." 

"Mr.  Davis!"  Camden  siioke  beseech- 
int;ly  out  of  her  discomfort.  "Can't  you  men- 
folks  make  up  your  minds  and  net  Ihis  Ihin^ 
settled?  1  call  it  downrinhl  cruel.  She  should 
be  having  pups,  and  raising  Ihem,  and  play- 
ing with  and  leachinu  Ihem.  She  oukIh  lo  be 
a  mother.  She  —  " 

Spring  laughed;  he  gave  her  ruddy  hair  a 
tweak.  "Honey,  these  things  take  a  certain 
amount  of  time  and  decision.  Now,  yesler- 
day  I  was  heart  and  soul  considering  Red- 
wing Master  that  the  Lanceys  brought  over 
here  from  Hickory  County.  Bought  him  off 
a  man  named  Sappinglon.  He  don't  seem  lo 
have  a  true  fault,  and  from  the  looks  and 
actions  of  some  of  his  pups  he's  a  lop  pro- 
ducer." 

Benjy  stood  near  lo  shake  a  head.  "No 
good  mouth.  I  heard  him  run  a-Wedncsday." 

"I  said  yesterday,"  his  father  told  him, 
chiding.  "Bui  today  I  dropped  the  notion. 
Children,  she's  scarce  more'n  a  pup  as  yet. 
If  we  let  mailers  rest  for  this  lime,  why 
maybe  during  next  winter  " 

Camden  spoke  softly.  Yet  her  tender  voice 
had  the  edge  of  a  knife  coming  through  this 
swaddle  of  darkness  which  claimed  them. 

"You  kept  Bugle  Ann  waiting  for  over 
five  years." 

They  walked  in  silence  to  the  houseyard, 
and  Benjy  reckoned  he'd  go  a  piece  with 
his  father  on  the  way  home;  the  ground 
wasn't  wet  enough  lo  be  slippery,  but  still 
there  were  tricky  spots  for  an  aged  man 
to  travel.  Camden  sat  where  her  husband 
sat  before,  on  the  clean  wooden  steps.  She 
looked  up  and  tried  lo  find  the  moon. 
Only  its  specter  showed  behind  the  draping 
clouds. 

Down  toward  the  cage  where  the  gyp  was 
wired  in  enforced  seclusion,  that  mud-dried 
mountebank,  with  burs  against  his  hide,  was 
lingering  anew  and  snuffing  his  faith  lo  Little 
Lady.  Camden  figured  that  Benjy,  somber  as 
he  was,  would  actually  shool  lhal  critter  on 
the  ne.\l  day.  She  squeezed  her  own  hands 
until  they  hurl.  She  tried  once  more  lo  see  the 
reflection  of  the  moon,  and  couldn't. 


Henry  pettigrew  got  a  fearful  coughing 
attack  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
within  another  hour  he  was  dead  of  the 
malady  which  had  weakened  him  so  long. 

In  a  region  such  as  ours,  where  people  had 
been  thoughtful  of  one  another's  needs  since 
the  first  trees  were  blazed,  that  made  for 
busy  calls  upon  the  telephone.  People  were 
lifting  their  receivers  and  listening  and  talk- 
ing all  along  the  line. 

Camden  and  Benjy  prepared  to  leave 
home  as  early  as  Ihey  might,  when  their  own 
morning  tasks  were  hastily  done  up.  Sad 
(Continued  on  Page  147} 


Wnuldn'l  this  lovely  Mersman 
rhnirsifle  step  tnhle  fit  perfectly  into 
your  home  .  .  .  or  make  a  nonderfiil  gift? 
Ask  your  Mersmnn  dealer  for  lithle  .Yo.  T3Hi. 

Just  as  the  sparkle  of  fashion  jawelry  highlights  her  gotvn  .  .  . 
so  the  gleam  of  Mersman  Tables  adds  a  charming 
jewel-like  accent  to  her  home.  Mersman  Tables  are  gems  of 
beauty  ( and  convenience)  for  the  costume  of  every  room! 
The  Mersman  Bros.  Corporation,  Celiha.  Ohio. 


MERSMAN 


''the  costume  jewelry  of  the  home* 


The  Mersman  Bros.  Corporation,  Dept.  L-43,  Celina,  Ohio 

Please  send  me  your  illustrated  new  booklet  describing  correct, 
tasteful  use  of  tables  in  tlae  home.  I  enclose  10c  in  coin  to 
cover  handling  costs. 


Street- 


Citv- 


.State. 


146 


L   A   D    T    E    S  '       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  1953  ! 


A.nd  slie  wants  all  Her  silverware  when  slie  wants  it! 


Every  girl  in  love  is  a  girl 
who  loves  Community.  And 
she  wants  all  she  wants 
when  she  wants  it.  Not  just 
a  few  pieces.  Not  just  a 
place  setting  or  two!  But  all 
the  shining  silverware  her  hospitable  heart  desires 


...  so  her  very  first  party  can  be  dinner  for  eight! 

Why  give  silver  the  slowpoke  way  .  .  .  one  place 
setting  at  a  time?  Watch  your  bride's  eyes  sparkle 
when  she  sees  Community  (your  choice  of  five  loved 
patterns  .  .  .  perhaps  the  new  White  Orchid — so 
graceful,  so  exciting!).  See  her  pride  in  Community's 
solid  weight  and  balance,  its  lifetime  wear-protecting 


"Overlay"  of  pure  silver,  the  serrated  edge  on  every 
grille  and  dinner  knife. 

(Small  note  to  you:  Your  friendly  jeweler's  con- 
venient payment  plan  makes  it  easy!)  Dinner  services 
for  8,  in  chest  that's  lined  with  Kenized*  fabric  to 
ward  off  tarnish,  as  low  as  $55.75.  Don't  settle  for 
less  than  Community*.  .  .  the  finest  silverplate! 


TRADEMARKS  OF  ONEIDA   LTD.,  ONEIDA,   N.  Y.   COPYRIGHT  1ft63.   ONEIDA  LTH 


I.    A    II    I  I 


I  11 


\  I 


I  I  7 


If  a  clock  proves  the  exist- 
ence of  a  clockmoker  and 
the  world  does  not  prove 
the  existence  of  a  Supreme 
Architect,  then  I  consent  to 
be  called  a  fool. 

—VOLTAIRE 


I        (Cimliniifd  from  I'aur  l-IS) 

for  tlic  funeral  must  be  made,  and 
jrt  offered.  Tliere  must  l)e  (lie  n<'illienii^', 
lations  from  distant  points;  live  small 
urews  needed  to  be  looked  after  as  well, 
niden  it  was  who  nave  I, it  He  Lady  lier 
;fast()n  lliat  fateful  morninn;  in  Henjy's 
lation  she  took  an  uncommonly  lon^ 
I  doinn  it.  He  iiad  put  on  clean  overalls 
[vvas  ready  with  the  car,  backiu).;  it  out 
c  corncrib  driveway  wiiere  they  kepi  it, 
I  Camden  joined  him, 
;  looked  at  her  coldly,  "You  si)ent  (|uite 
ile." 

fed  iier,"  said  Camden. 
)id  you  feed  him  a^;ain  too?" 
,c  wanted  to  cry.  "  None  of  your  business 
lid!"  but  she  was  softened  by  distress, 
<inK  of  Amy  Leah  IVlti^rew  and  how 
d-siiouldered  and  strannle-liaired  siie  al- 
^  looked.  Camden  maintainc'd  iiolilencss, 
'ly  nodding  in  answer  to  the  (|uestion. 
•njy  spoke  low  in  his  throat,  "Thought 
ide  it  apparent  that  I  didn't  want  him 

rhouKhl  I  made  it  apparent  that  I  ckin'i 
I  any  stray  animal  to  die  of  starvation 
ly  place,"  and  there  was  a  jab  in  tiiat 
the  Terry  place  was  ri,t;hlfully  Camden's 
and  had  belon,u;od  to  her  ancestors  be- 
her. 

i  they  drove,  slilf  and  uuiiappy.  This 
impleasantly  bad  in  Henjy's  case,  for  he 
the  sort  of  person  whose  raijes  built  to 

temperature  when 

were  blanketed  like 
;-oals  in  the  ashes  of 
ilence, 

ilood  is  blood,"  he  said 
■ntly,  fairly  clipping 
lords  by  their  tails,  "  I 
i;ht  you  apiireciated 
e  Lady,  and  what  she's 
it  to  us  and  the  world, 
what  she  mij^ht  mean 

iture  times  if    I 

low  I  must  have  been 
)ok." 

imden  turned  one  slim  shoulder  toward 
and  soon  he  knew  from  the  motion  of 
)ody  that  she  was  crying,  and  yet  never 
ng  a  sound.  Somewhere  inside  himself 
aid  long  afterward)  there  were  the  tiny 
of  decency  and  affection,  declaring 
he  had  offended  all  truth, 
aybe  it  was  the  restrained  quietness  of 
/eeping  which  enraged  Benjy  Davis  still 
ler,  and  sent  him  on  and  on  into  an  ugly 
t  of  contention.  Pretty  soon  he  was 
J  mean  words  behind  him  like  logs  which 
)uld  never  climb  back  over, 
iarboring  a  cur  like  that!  Saying'that 

DC  she  loves  him !  Ah  " 

ir  more  reasons  than  one,  Camden  was 
Dus  as  a  cat  on  this  morning.  She 
med  to  him  to  stop,  to  say  no  more, 
ill  right.  Just  this:  I  truly  believe  if  you 
»'0ur  way,  you'd  put  the  two  of  them  to- 
;r." 

would,"  she  cried.  "You're  right.  I 
d!" 

'11  make  certain  that  you  never  get  your 
"  said  Benjy,  He  locked  his  jaws  shut 
the  car  turned  in  at  the  Pettigrew  yard, 
tie  was  compelled  to  speak  to  folks  who 
!  trooping  sadly. 

5  young  Davises  served  their  neighborly 
in  that  house  of  bereavement,  maybe 
n  hour  or  so.  Other  men  were  already 
ng  after  things  on  the  place  which 
ed  to  be  seen  to;  and  there  were  perhaps 
nany  well-intentioned  women  crowding 
)orch  and  kitchen  for  the  widow's  peace 
ind, 

was  agreed  that  Benjy  should  take  the 
grew  car  and  drive  over  to  Buttonball, 
)d  forty  miles,  to  fetch  Amy  Leah's  par- 
who  were  elderly  and  unable  to  trans- 
themselves  but  whose  presence  was 
;stly  desired. 
Camden  drove  for  home  by  herself, 
lips  set  tight.  She  was  trying  all  the 
I  to  wipe  from  memory  the  awfulness  of 
conflict  with  her  man.  She  sought  to 
lage  every  wound  by  consideration  of 
ire's  kindliness;  she  strove  to  remember 
is  a  blessing  that  their  poor  sick  neigh- 


l«>i  had  found  rest  al  IuhI.  and  would  ncvei 
more  he  feeble  and  conHUinplive, 

Hut  it  was  unixmible  for  her  to  do.  re- 
memberniK  that  her  hIikIiI  liaiulh  wm-  lioid- 
mg  now  the  wheel  which  H^njy  had  held 
when  he  s|X)ke  that  bilteriicHH  aloud.  I'ur|)i. 
vervain  in  hillside  jjaslures  were  the  y^uw 
lalal  weeds  they  had  vsm'  past  earlier,  ii. 
matter  how  the  simliuhl  lame  to  dresM  I  hen. 
no  matter  how  nolderi  the  wild  eaiiari. 
Hew. 

IIkuk  was  the  bridne,  Planks  rattled  deep 
beneath  the  car,  and  sliav.ny  limlMrs  of 
Lancey'sold  null  were  tumbled  just  Ix-yond, 
with  snags  of  black  walnut  slukm^  up  lo 
mark  the  ancient  dam.  Shiners  ml^'.ht  kIhH 
beneath  the  easy  brownneHs  of  the  stream;  a 
dusty  smell  of  roadside  tangles  \n\v.\\\  ris»- 
like  musk;  and  Camden  witnessed  laiu'.hter 
of  three  boys  who  worked  and  lalketl, 
a-slripping  sugar  cane.  Hut  her  heart  lay 
unascending  and  cold. 

Camden  set  foot  at  last  within  her  yard, 
the  house  empty  and  shaded  t)c'yond.  ;in  old 
sow  muttering  comfortably  to  her  young  in 
a  lot  beside  the  barn.  Hut  Camden  stood 
with  hands  clamped  against  her  pretty  head, 
and  then  she  started  to  run. 

"LittK'  Lady!"  slie  called,  eagerly  trying 
lo  reassure  herself  as  she  scampered.  "  I  lello. 
honey!  I've  been  "  Hut  from  afar  she 
could  see  that  wired  gate  a-drifting  open, 
she  could  hear  it  whine  as  the  light  breeze 
took  It  idly  shut  and 
o|)eiu(l  It  again. 

No  Little  Lady,  proud 
and  slim  behind  the  chicken 
wire.  No  rugged-haired 
old  Bristles,  snorting  and 
wagging  out  of  range  of 
rocks,  and  streaking  off 
when  you  threatened  him. 
The  gate  turned  lazy,  open 
and  loose.  How  and  why 
had  she  done  this  thing? 

Oh,  she  could  have 
sworn  upon  a  stack  of 
Bibles  that  the  fastening  was  made  full 
well-  the  hook  sunk  deep  within  its  proper 
staple.  But  all  the  upset  in  her  soul,  and 
thinking  of  the  Pettigrews,  and  mad  and 
worried  by  Benjy 's  ornerincss;  and  then  she 
hastened  with  the  pans  in  hand,  the  little 
breakfast  for  the  gyp,  the  bigger  bait  for 

that  old  rascal  with  the  stickery  face  

Somehow  she'd  managed  it,  with  no  de- 
fiance or  intent.  And  now-  the  pen  stood  free 
of  any  occupant,  with  only  one  slow-moving 
velvet  butterfly  to  drift  above  the  wire,  and 
wag  its  wings  across  a  truant  w^ind.  and  then 
lift  high  -take  speed  for  uplands  and  the 
miles  of  brush  beyond,  where  those  lovelorn 
dogs  had  lied  away. 

She  felt  how  dry  and  hot  her  eyes  were 
burning,  though  wet  tears  stung  her  spirit 
underneath.  A  lillle  boy?  she  thought.  Could 

some  neighbor  have  come  and  But  in  all 

that  region  dwelt  no  person,  tall  or  little,  who 
would  have  done  this  trick  for  devilment. 

There  was  barren  ground  before  the  gate— 
the  sod  turned  over  into  mud  or  dust  as  rains 
or  hard-baking  sunlight  might  determine. 
There'd  been  a  sprinkle  in  the  night,  and  so 
all  tracks  were  plain  to  see :  the  big  toe  pads 
of  Bristles  mostly,  and  those  few  dancing 
marks  Little  Lady  had  left  w^hen  she  gal- 
loped to  her  freedom. 

Camden's  own  traces  appeared,  going  and 
coming,  and  going  and  coming  again— the 
small  print  of  her  heels  typed  into  soil  where 
some  time  previous  the  hogs  had  wallowed. 
No  other  feet  had  trod  that  ground  upon 
that  day,  and  Camden  felt  sweat  frosting 
new  across  her  forehead.  It  vvas  she  and  she 
alone  who'd  done  this  thing. 

She  raced  to  the  house,  now,  and  snatched 
the  bugle  from  its  hook.  Out  on  the  porch 
she  made  the  first  two  notes,  and  more  and 
more— the  warm  wind  coming  nigh  to  flutter 
at  her  dress,  to  take  her  auburn  hair  apart, 
Down  at  the  nearest  fence,  and  pointing 
her  bugle  at  the  wooded  hills  out  yonder, 
sending  keen  the  notes  to  race  past  willows, 
and  up  through  harder  timber  on  the  higher 
slopes. 

Such  neighbors  as  were  not  up  at  the  Pet- 
tigrews' or  gone  to  town— the  nearest  people 


Its  my 
one  essential 
cream" 


Lilly  .Milforil  H«v<'|i  finilit  nothing 
^iM-H  lirr  itkiii  hiieli  cnqtiixjif  furr 
at  lliit  iTcarn  tilii*  lik«-t<  tio  uejj.  TIiitp 
i«  an  i-xi'IiihIvc  forriiiilalioii  of  nkin- 
li(-l|ijii^  iii)irc(li<-rilK  in  I'oriJ'a 
furiioiih  Cold  (>catn.  'lop-tliiT,  tiiciie 
iii^reiiii-iitH  work  'ui  your  »kiti  nt  a 
Ifiim  in  intirr-adion.  Tliry  <  l<-ani»e 
your  hkin  immarulalelY ,  and  at  the 
Karnc  tiini!,  Hupply  the  oil  and  moi** 
tiirr  hkin  nveiU  rpf(ularly  to  look 
•.u(i|)lc.  hofi.  frr-hli.  I  h€'  VotuW 
Ocam  every  nifilit  (morninf^,  loo), 
anil  Hcc  a  faM-inalinf;  change  romc 
fiver  your  face  -  a  new  snioothnitiit, 
a  new  freshni-sh.  Go  to  your  favorite 
fai:e  <Tfarn  roiintcr  and  pet  a  large 
jar  of  Pond's  Cold  fire.un  today. 


She  is  the  American  wife  eif  the  great-fireat-firanilson  of  Qunen  Victoria.  Lady 
MillonJ  Haven  uses  I'dniTs  (lolil  (Irearn  to  kcc|)  licr  complexion  lii-autifully 
fresh  and  smooth.  "1  couldn't  do  without  I'ond's  Cold  Cream,"  she  says. 


® 


THE    STICK  COIOGNE 


FIRST  you  ever  bought  .  . 

then  over  and    Mtl^^    over  again 


'"is, 


LUCIEN  LELONG 


148 


LADIES'  no 


M    V.       J    O    U    R    N    A  L 


April,l 


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working  in  their  fields  or  kitchens — every 
ear  could  recognize  those  two  round  notes 
repeated  often,  and  speculate  upon  them. 
Little  Lady,  shut  up  tight  against  the  de- 
mands of  circumstance:  we  all  knew  that. 
Here  lived  the  summons,  hard  and  constant. 
Only  one  gyp  might  be  called  by  them— the 
same  who  had  the  marks  and  voice  of  Bugle 
Ann.  Only  she  or  the  wraith  of  her  mother 
would  have  answered  and  come  in. 

Over  at  the  Davis  place  across  two  fields, 
old  Spring  creaked  lamely  from  his  chair 
upon  the  porch,  and  he  could  feel  the  cloud 
of  misery  come  haunting. 

"Adelaide,"  he  said.  "  It  must  be  Camden. 
She's  trying  to  blow  Little  Lady  in." 

"But  they  had  her  in  a  wire  pen."  Mrs. 
Davis  wrapped  her  apron  around  her  hands. 

"Fetch  my  bugle,  too,"  the  old  man  or- 
dered quietly. 

He  walked  out  across  the  rear  yard,  mov- 
ing stiff  and  with  a  skinny  majesty;  and 
when  he  loomed  like  that  you  didn't  need  to 
know  he  owned  a  little  Maltese  cross  to  pin 
upon  his  chest  and  a  gray  slouch  hat  to  wear 
on  special  days.  He  walked  with  the  sad- 
dened kingliness  of  the  few  Confederates  left 
to  us,  and  you  imagined  you  could  hear 
drums  a-rolling  in  the  distance,  a  very  long 
roll  indeed. 

He  went  past  barn  and  cribs;  and  Mrs. 
Davis  she  went  part  way,  too,  and  then  she 
stopped;  and  Gabe  was  seated  on  a  keg  be- 
side the  barn,  riveting  a  tug  strap  which  had 
parted;  and  so  he  put  his  riveter  down 
slowly,  and  came  to  stand  beside  Mrs. 
Davis,  watching  Springfield  traipse  ahead. 

I  heard  them  blowing  now,  far  over  at  our 
place— Spring  Davis  and  the  daughter  of  the 
man  he'd  murdered  over  Bugle  Ann  (and  still 
he  hoped  she'd  nurture  flesh  of  his  descend- 
ants in  her  body).  Both  bugling— as  if  in 
wildest  mockery  and  rivalry,  and  then  some- 
how getting  together  in  a  warlike  chorus,  and 
then  straying  unhappily  apart  again. 

They  met  down  at  the  second  fence,  with 
Heaven  Creek  bubbling  meagerly  in  shady 
trees  beyond,  as  if  it  and  its  crawdads  had  no 
concern  with  the  strange  power  that  dogs 
could  wield  over  humankind. 

Camden  was  drenched  and  scratched,  for 
she  had  waded  and  she  had  gone  through 
blackberry  vines. 

"You  were  blowing  for  her,"  the  old  man 
faltered.  "  I  heard  you.  Thought  I'd  come  to 
help." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Davis,"  the  girl  cried,  gripping 

him.  "She's  gone!  If  Benjy          It's  Little 

Lady,  Mr.  Davis,  like  you  guessed.  She's  out 
and  gone."  yj 

The  errand  of  mercy  on  which  Benjy  Davis 
had  departed  was  fraught  with  delays.  The 
old  couple  lived  in  tears,  and  they  couldn't 
decide  what  clothing  to  pack  with  them  on 
their  desolate  visit;  and  at  the  last  minute 
the  old  lady  made  Benjy  drive  back  three 
miles,  for  she  had  forgotten  a  basket  of 
cookies  she  planned  to  offer  to  her  grand- 
children. 

Thus  it  was  two  o'clock  before  he  returned 
to  the  Pettigrews'  and  caught  a  snack  there 
from  baskets  which  the  womenfolks  had 
fetched— later  still  when  he  got  home  to 
Heaven  Creek  and  heard  bugles  resounding. 

He  went  posting  to  his  mother's  place,  and 
leanied  the  tidings  about  Little  Lady's  van- 
ishment. There  may  have  been  some  com- 
passion toward  Camden  stealing  into  his 
conscience  before  he  arrived ;  now  flames  were 
spitting,  and  raggeder  than  before.  He  was 
no  man  to  trifle  with  when  he  stopped  by  our 
place,  gaunt  and  mean  and  sweaty,  and 
carrying  a  repeating  rifle  along  with  him. 

I  was  atop  a  ladder  out  behind  the  house, 
picking  harvest  apples  for  my  mother  to  can, 
but  I  came  down  fast  enough  when  I  observed 
that  Indian  look  on  Benjy's  countenance. 

"They  never  ran  past  here,"  I  said,  when 
he  questioned  me.  "How  come  the  twenty- 
two?" 

"Got  it  loaded  with  long  rifles,"  said  he, 
referring  to  the  type  of  cartridges.  I  figured 
what  would  befall  Bristles  when  he  was 
caught  up  with. 

"I'll  finish  these  apples,  then  I  got  a  thing 
or  two  to  do  at  the  barn,  then  I'll  join  you  in 
the  woods.  Whereabouts?" 


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AIR-PIUO INSOIES^ 


I  If  s;ii(|.  •  Cli  tK-over  Inward  Baelii  l..t  \.  m 
llif  IiikIi  tirntxT.  Thi;  rt'Hl  "  Vin  a  nu>- 
nienl  ins  iliroal  was  ho  dry  lie  louldn  i  talk 
He  lu)ked  at  llic  urouiul.  :iikI  then  lili.d  Iiim 
lilai  k  i-ycs,  '■  I'a  and  ( ;alK-  are  oul  ( )l  icurw 
pa  laii't  HKJVi'  very  spriKliily.  M;i  h;ikI  llu-y'd 
already  lomlxd  all  aioriK  the  iniddir  i»jirtH(.( 
iliaveii  freek,  wilii  Camden,  w\uv  ih. 
Iiorns.  Hut  no  rt-sultH." 

When  he  utliri-d  tin-  name  of  Camden  lie 
sounded  so  unsteady  that  a  Hlranncr  nnnlii 
have  dei  tned  Ik-njy  wan  on  llic  vt  r^e  of  cry 
iiu;.  That  was  had.  It  marked  the  most  dan 
t^erous  wrath  wliich  lived  in  tins  ytMuv.  tnai. 
and  could  emerge  when  it  was  t<iuclu  <l  ofl  l)\ 
any  uricvous  spark.  ()ncc  I  had  observed  hiin 
speak  liiat  way  in  McKce'sCrossnin  when  he 
overlieard  some  |)olii  leal  enemy  of  his  father's 
dcscrilx'  Sprm^;  I  )avis  as  a  jaill)ird.  The  man 
was  only  thirty-eiKhl,  and  a  ditcher  by 
trade,  and  weit.;hed  a  ko<kI  two  hundred;  but 
lie  had  Henjy  up  In  fore  the  justice,  after  he 
had  Ixrn  patclied  and  recovered.  IJenjy 
Davis  paid  twenty-live  dollars  and  costs  for 
that  assjuilt. 

Amongst  the  trees  I  joined  him,  s<x)n  as  I 
was  free  to,  and  searciicd  with  him  until  dark. 
We  didn't  (ind  hide  nor  track  of  Little  Lady, 
nor  of  the  fugitive  who  had  charmed  her 
away.  Far  behind  us  on  tK)th  sides,  alon^; 
Chilly  Branch  and  in  Hl^;  Panther  Hollow, 
the  bugles  still  were  bk)ss<)min^;  their  mes- 
sage. Little  Lady  heeded  not. 

We  talked  of  trailin^;  her  with  other  do^;s, 
and  then  we  sh(X)k  our  heads,  for  that  would 
never  work.  No  luoper  foxhound  of  the  kind 
we  raised  would  cry  another  don  exceiM  old 
Toui  Sector,  whom  I  mentioned  earlier,  and 


In  the  long  run  what  any  lociety  Is 
to  become  will  depend  upon  what 
it  believes  or  dlsbellevei  about  eter- 
nal  thinai.  -bishop  core 


he  would  only  cry  himself.  No,  voice  and 
eyes  and  trumpet  calls  must  do  the  trick. 

"Reckon  she'll  come  back,"  I  lold  Benjy 
at  sunset,  "when  she's  good  and  ready.  Of 
course  " 

He  looked  at  me;  he  turned  his  bony  face 
aside. 

"It'll  be  too  late  by  then,"  I  finished  up. 

"It's  too  late  now,"  he  said.  "But  that's 
not  all.  I  got  to  get  her  back.  For  pa  is  old; 
I'm  scared  he'll  have  a  stroke,  a-worrying. 
Bake,  I  got  to  keep  on  hunting,  long  as  I  can. 
You  know  how  they  act  at  such  a  time— run 
heedless  on  the  pavement,  any  road  or  any 
place.  These  folks  in  cars  go  burning  up  the 

slab  a  mile  a  minute.  If  she  was  hit  "  We 

could  say  no  more. 

I  went  home  through  the  dusk.  Wouldn't 
have  left  then  — for  often  I've  missed  some 
meals  without  their  bothering  me— except 
that  I  was  concerned  about  the  whisky  situ- 
ation. My  own  little  father  wasn't  near  as  old 
as  Springfield  Davis  (and  a  mighty  friend  of 
his),  but  frailties  had  crept  upon  him.  One  of 
them  concerned  the  pleasant  stuff  which  he 
called  Forty-Rod,  and  now  the  doctor  had 
limited  him  to  one  pint  per  day. 

These  pints  he  preferred  to  absorb  in  the 
evening,  or  later  when  we  were  out  with  the 
dogs;  and  I  carried  the  magic  key  in  my 
pocket  at  all  times,  for  the  flesh  of  my  father 
Cal  Royster  could  turn  remarkably  weak  on 
occasion. 

He  was  awaiting  me  on  the  front  stoop, 
hunched  down  like  a  dwarf,  v\agging  his 
beard  and  doubtless  grinning  within  it  when 
he  made  out  my  shape. 

"You're  late,"  he  said.  "And  your  mother's 
got  the  hain  shoved  up  in  the  warming  oven. 
They  found  anything?" 

"Not  a  sign." 

"Reckon  she's  run  over  somewheres." 

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Brisk  as  always,  and  carrying  mongrel  pups." 

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speculation  in  my  own  interest,  but  soon  de- 
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/  asked  the  experts: 

JU?" 


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used  to  get  fighting  mad,  long  ago  when  I  got 
out  of  the  Veterans  Hospital,  and  I  paid 
worse  fines  than  Benjy  Davis  ever  did. 

Supper  was  a  quiet  institution  at  our  home 
in  these  modern  times,  what  with  Delbert 
and  LaVonne  sitting  over  in  their  own  house, 
and  Tom  and  Ermine  sitting  in  theirs,  and 
Lucy  gone  to  work  in  Joplin.  But  it  was 
quieter  than  ever  this  night:  my  father  was 
deep  immersed  within  the  Davis  problem, 
though  he  didn't  like  to  let  on.  He  said 
gloomily  that  he  reckoned  Camden  had 
opened  that  pen  gate  a-purpose,  to  spite 
Benjy;  and  ma  told  him  to  put  such  words 
back  in  his  throat  and  never  use  them  again, 
and  eat  his  roasting  ears  and  beets  instead. 

The  ham  had  been  cut  from  the  carcass  of 
our  own  tall  red  hog,  and  it  was  good  as  ever 
I  cured;  the  corn  came  from  the  third  series 
of  rows  we  planted,  and  thus  was  fiavorable; 
only  my  good  mother  could  contrive  such 
smooth  and  buttery  beets.  But  on  this  eve- 
ning we  mii'ht  have  been  eating  straw  for  all 
the  taste  we  found.  Pa  never  even  lauded  be- 
cause he  had  done  the  milking  all  by  his  own 
self. 

I  went  to  see  how  our  dogs  were  situated, 
and  pa  walked  in  darkness,  following  me 
there.  Thus  we  stood  beside  the  wire,  with 
hounds  jumping  and  wagging  on  the  other 
side. 

Y  father  came  nearer,  and  slid  his  finger 
under  my  belt,  and  with  the  other  hand  he 
tapped  mc  on  the  chest.  "Bake,  I  been 
thinking." 

"Have  you  thunk  up  any  good  ideas?" 

"The  wind's  just  right,  what  there  is  of  it, 
and  I  felt  the  grass  a  while  ago.  Dogs  hain't 
been  run  in  a  coon's  age  "— tliree  entire  days, 
in  fact—"  and  they're  spoiling.  They'd  do 
better  than  you  and  Benjy  and  the  rest." 

I  stood  and  smelled  the  timber  which 
spread  close.  "You  think  she'd  leave  him, 
and  join  the  pack?" 

"By  this  time,  yes.  I  get  certainer  and  cer- 
tainer,  the  more  I  dwell  on  it." 

Those  hills  had  conversations  and  silences 
all  their  own,  but  distant  shadows  were  still 
disturbed  by  a  bugle  cry.  I  concluded  it  was 
Camden  making  it,  or  maybe  Benjy  blowing 
his  father's  horn. 

"Take  them  in  the  dog  box,"  pa  continued. 

"Dog  box  won't  hold  but  five."  We  were 
speaking  of  the  box  on  the  back  of  my  little 
truck. 

"  Five  will  be  a-plenty.  Take  some  that  are 
always  out  ahead,  and  mean  business;  we 


could  cross  the  ford,  and  make  a  cast  on 
Heaven  Hump.  Their  voices  will  carry  far 
from  there,  and  she'll  know  what's  doing 
within  five  minutes  after  the  pickup." 

He  gave  me  his  pint  bottle  to  keep  for  him, 
so  he  might  have  some  liquor  left  to  solace 
him  beside  the  fire.  Pa  trotted  to  the  house  to 
tell  ma,  and  get  a  snack;  I  took  a  lantern  and 
selected  the  hounds.  Five  Point  Nine  and 
Bullard's  Daisy,  Vinegar  Blink  and  Border 
Princess  and  old  Toul  Sector:  these  were  the 
lucky  five,  and  the  rest  lamented  it. 

VII 

The  bugle  cry  had  silenced  before  we  reached 
the  higher  ground.  As  soon  as  the  fire  raised 
color  in  the  sky,  we  had  some  company.  We 
heard  the  rattle  of  the  ancient  Davis  truck, 
and  here  they  came,  laborious  up  a  pair  of 
tracks  which  crawled  from  gulleys:  Benjy 
and  his  father.  They  brought  no  dogs  along. 

Benjy  installed  Spring  Davis  on  a  seat,  and 
stood  with  us  to  listen.  "I  didn't  have  a 
stomach  for  this  thing  tonight,"  he  said,  but 
in  no  way  of  blame. 

"Pa  thought  it  might  work." 

Spring  Davis  sat  motionless  upon  his 
stump.  "You  mean — with  Little  Lady?" 

I  said,  "She's  bound  to  hear  them  all." 

"It's  well  into  evening,"  old  Spring  said. 
"She  might  be  willing  to  depart  from  him  by 
now." 

Our  hounds  had  been  a  long  time  making 
any  pickup — why,  I  do  not  know;  perhaps  so 
many  human  paths  had  walked  that  way, 
and  they  were  puzzled.  Then  Border  Princess 
got  the  necessary  whiff,  and  let  her  high 
squall  go,  and  then  the  rest  were  with  her. 
The  fox  strung  over  east,  where  Benjy  and  I 
took  some  timber  out  the  year  before.  There 
were  a  lot  of  unburned  trash  piles  such  as 
foxes  like  to  sneak  among  They  crossed  the 
Spur,  and  echoed  out  of  hearing. 

I  wondered  just  where  Camden  was  and 
how  she  fared.  I  doubted  then  that  she  and 
Benjy  had  some  further  words  that  day; 
sometimes  you  find  the  air  too  charged  with 
friction  and  you  never  even  squeak.  But  he 
seemed  thinner,  as  he  always  seemed  when 
mad.  His  active  eyes  were  narrowed  down, 
and  showed  a  gleam  when  shadows  left  his 
face. 

And  then  I  thought  of  just  how  Little 
Lady  and  the  scrub-brush  mutt  had  skipped 
away  that  morning,  scooting  wildly  round 
and  round,  and  running  bigger  circles  as  she 
sniffed  the  wind  of  liberty  and  found  it  good. 
(Co)iliiineil  on  Page  152} 


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(Continued  from  Pane  150) 

Away  back  in  fastnesses  they  must  have  run, 
but  always  he  would  stay  attendant,  courting 
her;  and  so  she  stuck  to  her  opinion— dog's 
opinion,  just  as  straight  as  humankind,  when 
folks  are  never  there  to  meddle — that  he  was 
just  the  one  for  her. 

No  bell  and  book,  but  only  choice  and  luck 
and  final  certainty.  I  reckoned  that  the  first 
fierce  race  of  hounds  had  risen  from  such 
queer  determination,  and  maybe  the  chance 
of  that  same  swinging  gate — if  early  men  had 
gates  across  the  mouths  of  caverns  where 
they  slept. 

Then,  before  the  dogs  came  back,  we  heard 
the  horn  again. 

It  called  in  lonely  desperation  from  the 
valley  back  of  us,  and  small  words  which 
we'd  planned  to  use  were  left  unsaid.  In  the 
gloom  I  watched  poor  Benjy's  face  go  into 
knots,  and  smooth  out  like  it  was  hammered 
flat.  He  never  spoke,  but  every  muster  of 
that  bugle  went  right  through  him. 

"That'd  be  Camden,"  came  the  faint  re- 
mark of  Spring.  "Reckon  she  went  over  to 
her  place  awhile,  may- 
be to  eat  some  supper, 

and  wash  up,  and  may-   ^  -  ■ 

be  rest." 

My  father  coughed 
and— "Reckon  so,"  he 
said. 

But  stronger  than 
the  trumpet  cry,  and  in 
a  contrary  direction, 
our  Royster  dogs  began 
to  be  apparent  now. 
That  same  beleaguered 
fox  was  ankling  north, 
and  they  were  right  on 
top  of  him,  giving  a 
healthy  chop  like  ducks 
a-flying  high. 

And  far  away  an- 
other throat  was  opened 
now ;  another  tongue 
was  flapping  in  the 
night,  and  Spring  got 
off  his  stump,  and  Ben- 
jy  froze.  It  was  Little 
Lady,  sure  enough. 
Away  off  yonder,  like 
she  singled  out  within  a 
separate  century,  she 
lifted  up  her  melody. 

All  sole  alone,  remote 
upon  the  track,  she  told 
our  Royster  dogs  to 
wait,  hold  on,  she'd 
come  to  join  them;  how 
they  needed  her,  she 
cried.  She  had  a  repu- 
tation to  exalt  which 
had  not  been  the  lot  of  any  hound  along  that 
creek,  or  on  the  Indian  River  over  where  the 
moon  came  up  belatedly.  It  was  the  voice  of 
Bugle  Ann,  without  a  doubt;  so  once  again 
goose  flesh  pinked  upon  our  hides;  it  always 
did ;  we  couldn't  help  it,  even  though  we  knew 
so  well  the  tale  of  this  identity. 

Sometimes,  by  folks  who  never  were  so 
fortunate  as  us  and  never  heard  the  voice  of 
Little  Lady  or  her  dam,  I  have  been  asked 
just  how  it  sounded.  It  sounded  like  the 
mystery  of  lonesome  woods  where  maybe 
ghosts  were  foot-loose.  It  made  you  think  of 
gypsy  dogs,  and  hollering  around  the  wig- 
wams where  some  Indians  dwelt ;  and  maybe 
greasy  men  with  hair  in  scalp  locks,  going 
out  to  tackle  catamounts.  It  had  the  air  and 
smell  of  danger;  still  there  lived  a  sympathy. 

M  RECKON  when  the  first  ferocious  pioneers 
came  poking  on  across  the  Mississippi,  they 
led  some  dogs  like  that  along.  So  the  germ 
lived  sleepy  in  the  blood  of  old  Missouri 
hounds,  time  out  of  mind,  until  a  miracle  of 
breeding  worked  by  Springfield  Davis 
brought  it  out  again,  but  only  in  one  body 
and  one  soul;  and  able,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
to  be  transmitted  to  her  daughter. 

Our  fire  picked  out  Camden,  coming  be- 
tween the  oaks— first  her  pale  face  drifting 
and  her  pale  hands  with  bugle  horn  tight 
clasped,  and  then  the  darker  movement  of 
her  gown.  Her  gown  was  blue,  with  flame- 
suggesting  purple  on  it  also.  There  she  stood 
at  last,  close  by.  Greetings  were  murmured 


low  to  her,  but  haltmgly.  because  weallwi 
centered  in  our  hearts  upon  that  hound  vo 
pealing  out  behind  our  Royster  do"s.  Ca 
den  held  her  cliin  on  high,  and  kept  her  ei 
shut  as  she  listened. 

I  don't  think  she  and  Benjy  interchange! 
word.  Not  even  when  the  fox  had  holed,  i' 
even  when  our  hounds  came  in,  not  e^^ 


The  Man's  Wife 

Starbufk  Halbraith 


I'll  grant  the  charge  that's  often 
hurled 

Against  the  men— that  it's  their 
world  — 

Is  grounded  on  some  fact,  because 
The  males  make  vital  things  like 
laws 

And  money,  warfare  and  mistakes. 
And  one  who's  sick  most  surely 
makes 

A  lot  of  trouble,  fuss  and  noise. 
But  notwithstanding,  these  same 
boys 

Make  lovers,  fathers,  doting 

spouses. 
So,  although  my  gender  grouses 
That  the  world  is  man's  domain, 
I  view  the  prospect  minus  pain. 
The  present  setup  suits  me  fine, 
For  after  all,  the  man  is  mine! 


when  Little  Lady  panted  up  at  last, 
spending  to  a  final  order  from  the  horn.. 

VIII 

Camden  was  sitting  in  the  breakfast  no 
they'd  made  in  that  old  kitchen,  when  Ber' 
finally  came  and  stood  beside  her.  Camd 
had  tripped  off  solitary  on  the  forest  path 
soon  as  Little  Lady  made  her  return.  F 
well  she  knew  the  way,  and  could  have  fou 
it  in  the  darkest  night  which  ever  pressed.' 

Old  Spring  kept  Little  Lady  at  his  phi  i 
that  night;  he  said  he'd  worried  so,  al 
wanted  her  to  lie  beside  lus  'oed. 

Long  afterward  I  learned  the  thorny  wor 
exchanged. 

"You  did  it,"  Benjy  Davis  told  his  wi 
"like  you  said  yoi 
do." 

"  It's  all  my  fault 
she    whispered.    "\\  I 
bear  the  blame.  I  gue! 
you'd  not  believe  me  < 
I  told  you  it  was  doi  i 
by  accident." 

"You  contend  itw  i 
an  accident?  It  wasr 
done  for  spite?" 

"No,  not  for  spite  \ 
she  said.  "I  did  il.  | 
don't  know  how  >i 
came  about." 

He  shuffled  rouni 
"It's  wrong  to  hai 

some  strains  mi:  i] 

There's  types  of  bloc' 
that  quarrel  with  otb 
blood." 

And  Camden  roll{ 
her  flashlight  back  an 
forth  upon  the  tabl 
never  lifting   up  h( 
eyes.  "You're  speakin 
of  the  Davis  blood  aa 
Terry  blood,  I  feel."  I 
"I  never  mentione| 
such  a  thing.  But  you-  ;■: 
you,  honey— loved  thfj 
dirty  beast.  You  kep 
him  here,  a-feeding  ai 
a-babying.    If  you 
drove  him  off,  the  w 

1  ordered   

So  it  went,  and  the 
are  never  words  whic 
scald  so  hot  as  those  in  anger,  pitched  bad 
and  forth  between  young  people  who  ar^ 
strong  in  love. 

Types  of  blood  that  quarrel  with  othe 

blood  He  spoke  of  this  again,  and  shi 

flung  the  same  hot  charge  that  he  was  meaninj 
Davises  and  Terrys.  All  right,  he  said.  Sup' 
pose  he  was?  She'd  willed  the  deed,  by  wishi 
ing  it.  It  was  her  stubborn  unconscious  self, 
a-praying  that  the  hook  upon  that  gate  woulc 
never  find  the  staple;  so  it  never  had. 

She'd  done  it,  Benjy  cried,  just  as  wick- 
edly as  if  with  full  intent;  and  now  they'd  be 
a  laughingstock  all  through  the  whole  vi 
cinity.  They'd  picked  and  chosen  and  denied 
a  breeding  match  with  any  hound  around 
there,  when  there  wasn't  a  man  who  hunted 
fox  within  a  radius  of  fifty  miles  who  wouldn't 
have  got  down  on  his  knees  and  begged  the 
Davises  to  bring  the  gyp  to  his  best  hound. 

She  didn't  scream  at  him  to  stop,  for  she 
was  past  that  stage  now.  The  Camden  heri- 
tage was  ruling  her  at  last,  and  it  was  mighty 
stem  and  proud.  She  rose  up  soberly  while 
Benjy  still  assailed,  and  she  went  upstairs 
and  shut  her  door.  Her  mind  was  made.  She 
wouldn't  stay  to  have  his  eyes  accusing  when 
his  voice  had  ceased. 

So  they  slept  apart  that  night,  and  in  the 
forenoon  Camden  walked  through  corn  rows 
to  the  Davis  place.  She  paused  to  kiss  her 
mother-in-law,  and  then  went  on  through  the 
sitting  room  and  found  Spring  Davis  throned 
as  usual  in  his  green  rocking  chair.  He  sat  out 
(Continned  on  Page  J 5-1) 


•      \     I'     I      I  '         II     (I     \|      I  I     O     I       II      \      \  I 


'0  ni(i  ,(\s 
our  cool  . in^  easier' 


Yiis,  (:o()KiN(;'s  a  |)lc,isiiic  vwiy  .sit  p  nl  ilu  w.iy  widi  |'M{|;\ 
Ware — lor  reasons  IlLi-  iliisc: 

•  You  can  see  foods  cook  to  pci  dc  tion  in  <  r)  stal-(  kar  I'VUKX 
Oveiivvare  and  I'lamt  w  are. 

•  Foods  bake  I'aster  in  l'M{i;\  Ware— l)ro\vn  evenly  ! 

•  New  PYREX  Bakiiiffvvare  iii(]olor  is  as  smart  as  your  lahk  t  luna. 

•  You  can  hake,  serve,  store  in  tiie  same  I'YKKX  dish. 

•  Fewer  chslies  to  wash,  and  sniooth-surlac  ed  I'N  KI  A  \\  are  is  so 
easy  to  wasli  clean! 

See  the  items  shown  here — and  many  others — at  your  fav(jrite 
housewares  counter.  Make  sure  you  have  PYKICX  Ware  lor 
everything  you  cook  and  hake. 


K\lru->lr<iii((  —  iTh  l<-iii|N-ri-il !  OynUil  .  cleat 
I'YKI.X  M.iiiicuiirc  Idn  ytni  hcc  mImI'n  c(j<ikill}(! 
({jrullcM  Ntay  nxA,  liavc  riliK'i  Tor  lMn);ii<t;-  Oner* 
li«  L  on,  :i  li/i  s;  i '/.' -<|n.if  I.  52. 2**;  2-<)iiiifi,  %'2.4'i. 
PYREX    Flameware    5aijc»!pan,   l-quarl   iizf,  $1.95 


Perk  perffft  coffee  in  PYREX  Ware.  You  can  see 
when  it's  clone  just  the  way  yon  like  it.  Cover 
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$2.95:  y-eiM)  size,  .$3.4'). 

PYREX   Flameware   Percolator,   4-cup   size,  $2.45 


So  easy  to  wash  clean.  Siiiootli-siu  faced 
PYIU^X  Ware  washes  like  a  dinner  plate! 
Oven  Roaster  serves  as  two  separate  bak- 
ing dishes  .  .  .  handy  individual  dishes 
come  in  4  sizes:  6-onnce,  100;  10-ounce, 
15(;  1  pint  I9t. 

PYREX  Custard  Cup,  5-ounce  size,  5c 
PYREX  Oven  Roaster,  3-quart  size,  $1.39 


flakier  crusts,  juicier  pies.  PYREX  Ovenware 
)rowns  evenly,  requires  less  heat.  This  handsome 
lie  plate  has  high  finteil  edges  to  keep  juices  in 
our  pie.  9'/2-inch  size,  690. 

>YREX  Flavor-Saver  Pie  Plate,  S'/i-inch  size,  590 


Glorious  colors  for  your  table.  New  PYREX 
Bakingware  in  Color  is  smart  as  your  table 
china!  Flamingo  red  or  lime  green.  Casse- 
role has  see-through  cover. 

PYREX  Covered  Bowl  Casserole,  2-quart 
size,  $1.50 


Bake,  serve,  store  in  the  same  disli.  Fewer 
dishes  to  wash!  Four  brightly  colored  dishes, 
clear  glass  covers. 

PYREX  Oven  and  Refrigerator  Set,  $?.95 


Resists  ciiippin<;,  high  oven  heat.  Colorful 
PYREX  Bakingware  is  tempfred — can  go  from 
refrigerator  to  o\en  to  table!  Foods  bake 
c]iiickly,  brown  e^■enly.  You'll  bake  superb 
pies,  cakes,  main  dishes — serve  them  in  style! 
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PYREX  Round  Baking  and  Serving  Dish,  8V4-inch 
size,  95c 

PYREX  Square  Baking  and  Serving  Disti,  8-inch 
size,  $1.25 


There's  only  OM  PYREX  Wai'G 
a  product  of 

t^Corniiig  Glass  ^Vorks, 

Cornin£>,KY 

o 

VISIT  TIIF.  CORNING 
GLASS  CENTER,  CORNING,  .N.  Y. 


"PYREX"  is  a  registered  trade-mark  in  the  U.  S. 
of  Corning  Glass  Works,  Corning,  N.Y. 


154 


LADIES 


H    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


Now  it's  liaiidiev  than  ever  to  clean 
a  window  a  minute!  Try  "GLASS 
WAX"  in  the  new  290  size.  Handy, 
light!  Fits  the  hand  just  right.  Per- 
fect for  small  apartments,  kitchen, 
basement,  garage.  Keep  a  can  in 
the  glove  compartment  of  your  car 
— to  keep  chrome  shining,  too ! 


family  size  59<  Large  economy  size  98< 


Use  a  damp  cellulose  sponge  and 
"GLASS  WAX".  Cleans  faster  and 
better  than  ever!  Apply  thin.  You  can 
SEE  where  you're  cleaning.  Wipe  oflF 
dry  "GLASS  WAX".  SEEhow  spar- 
kling clean.  Your  windows  come 
shining,  crystal-clear.  No  skips,  no 
misses!  And  with  a  sponge  "GLASS 
WAX"  reaches  in  corners,  cleans 
every  inch ! 


SECRET  OF  SOFT,  LUSTROUS 


natural 

^ood  furniture 

cYeorcv  beauty 


CLEANS  FIRST— THEN  POLISHES 


(Continued  from  Page  152) 
on  the  porch  where  his  dim  vision  might  com- 
mand a  view  of  the  distant  road,  though  no- 
body went  along  it  very  often. 

Little  Lady  was  spread  beside  him,  legs 
straight  out,  and  tail  whacking  the  floor 
when  she  heard  Camden's  step.  The  girl  got 
down  on  her  knees  beside  the  old  man's  chair. 

"All  I  can  say  is  I'm  sorry." 

He  moved  his  silky  white  head  in  agree- 
ment. "There's  reason  for  regret.  But  I  do 
believe  you  never  done  it  a-purpose,"  he 
told  her. 

"Benjy  believes  I  did." 

Springfield  sighed,  and  groped  around  with 
his  fingers  until  they  found  Little  Lady's  ear, 
and  he  played  softly  with  this  precious  toy. 
"  It's  a  matter  sole  between  you  two.  I  never 
did  hold  with  elder  folks  mi.xing  amid  prob- 
lems of  the  young." 

For  a  time  Camden  sat  with  glance  turned 
down,  hut  her  blue  eyes  were  wet  no  longer: 
she'd  expended  all  her  tears.  Then  she  raised 
her  face  to  meet  Spring's  gaze. 

"Mr.  Davis,  there's  the  matter  oi  Little 
Lady." 

He  shifted  around,  sad  and  uncomfortable 
in  that  most  comfortable  rocker  in  the  world. 
He  got  out  his  tobacco  sack  and  put  it  back 
again.  "Oh,  there's  nothing  can  be  mended 
now  where  she's  concerned.  Wait  until  the 
litter  comes,  and  then  get  rid  of  them  in  any 
easy  manner.  Next  year"— he  brightened 
just  the  slightest  — 
"next  year  we'll  mate 
her  right,  I  reckon." 

"Until  you  ask  for 
her,"  said  Camden 
softly,  "I'd  like  to 
take  the  care." 

The  old  man  made 
a  sound  inside  his 
chest,  as  if  his  heart 
was  saying  things  in 
other  languages.  "  I'm 
old.  I  might  not  be 
here  in  another  sixty 
days.  Are  you  dead 
certain  that  you  want 
to  have  her  close  to 


April,  29; 

had  come;  both  the  young  folks  watche 
the  birds  awhile.  "A  visit?"  Benjy  Day 
asked  again. 

"Yes,  a  mighty  long  one."  ' 
He  cleared  his  throat ;  his  shoulders  seeme 
to  bend  and  tighten  when  he  did  it.  "I  guei 
you  made  your  choice.  There's  nothing  I  ca 
say." 

"You  said  enough.  Last  night,  and  son 
before." 

"You  take  the  car.  The  corn  is  doing  goo( 
If  prices  hold  when  we  have  got  it  picked,  F 
trade  that  old  wreck  which  I  keep  at  pa':! 
and  buy  another  car."  1 

She  moved  up  toward  the  porch,  and  Benj 
followed  her. 

"If  you  need  money  "  j 

"No,  I  don't,"  Camden  said.  "Have  yoj 
forgot  again?  I  sold  those  lots  my  father  use 
to  own  in  Warrensburg;  I've  got  the  mone 
put  away.  Come  on,"  she  whispered,  gentli 
as  could  be,  to  Little  Lady. 

She  led  the  foxhound  out,  and  Benjy  Dav 
gave  a  growl. 

"Who  told  you  you  could  take  her  wit 
you?  Who  " 

"Your  father  told  me,"  Camden  san 
"And  me,  I  guess  I  told  myself.  Good-by., 
She  drove  away. 

IX 

At  times  there  dwells  a  meanness  in  the  bes 
communities — in  a  community  of  huma: 
folks,  or  one  of  foj 


t 


i 


you ; 

She  told  him,  speak- 
ing flat,  "The  way 
that  Benjy  feels— no, 
Mr.  Davis,  I  should 
be  the  one.  I  took 
care  of  Bugle  Ann; 
and  I  reared  Little 

Lady  and  the  rest  when  Bugle  Ann  was  sick 
and  couldn't  feed  them  proper.  I'll  cherish 
Little  Lady  till  she  whelps." 

He  nodded;  it  was  hard  for  him  to  build  a 
word.  Slowly  then  did  Camden  rise  and  kiss 
Spring  Davis  on  his  cheek.  She  got  a  leash, 
and  she  took  Little  Lady  back  across  the 
field.  Upstairs  in  the  Terry  place  she  packed 
the  things  which  she  desired  to  take;  perhaps 
she  worked  in  fog,  but  it  is  certain  that  her 
mind  was  made. 

Benjy  was  busy  at  the  barn.  His  best  cow 
lay  poorly  with  milk  fever,  and  he  waited  for 
a  vet  to  come  from  towTi.  But  now  he  wit- 
nessed Camden  walking  back  and  forth.  One 
suitcase  she  brought  out,  and  then  another, 
and  a  box  with  dresses  in  it.  Benjy  went  to 
stand  beside  the  car. 

^Vhen  she  emerged  again  he  questioned 
her,  and  with  a  stranger's  tone.  "Going 
somewhere?" 

She  said,  "I'm  going  home." 

"Where's  that?" 

"Up  yonder,"  and  she  nodded  toward  the 
north  and  west.  "In  the  lowest  corner  of 
Jackson  County,  where  once  I  went  before," 
she  told  him. 

He  stood  and  looked,  not  at  the  wife  he 
loved,  but  at  the  timberland.  "Your  Uncle 
Elnathan  is  dead.  A  year  ago  last  Christmas. 
Have  you  forgot?" 

"Florry's  there,"  Camden  told  him.  "Or 
have  you  forgot?  My  cousin,  and  she's  teach- 
ing in  the  new  school  that  they've  built,  and 
she's  hired  a  man  and  wife  to  work  the  place. 
She's  always  wishing  that  I'd  come  to  visit. 
Guess  the  time  is  here." 

Wrens  were  busy  in  their  tiny  house  atop 
the  garden  post,  and  chattering  because  a  jay 


WITCH  HUNTS 

We  have  to  protect  ourselves  from 
dangerous  conspiracies.  It  is  obvi- 
ously important  that  we  identify 
traitors  and  subversive  persons  and 
eliminate  them  from  positions  where 
they  could  do  the  country  harm.  But 
in  doing  it,  it  is  also  important  that  we 
avoid  the  urge  to  persecute.  Our  mo- 
tivation must  be  adult,  our  thinlcing 
responsible,  our  emotional  attitude 
wholesome.  And  we  must  require  the 
same  of  other  people,  or  let  them  see 
that  we  shall  not  respect  them. 


By  A.  POWELL  DA  VIES 

From  a  sermon:  The  Urge  to  Persecute 


hounds,  for  I've  seej 
it  work  both  ways; 
The  news  came  ou 
as  soon  as  Camde; 
stopped  down  at  th 
bank  in  Wolf  Cente^ 
tocashherselfacheck 
Roy  Lancey  saw  th 
pretty  gyp  within  he 
car,  and  all  the  suit  a 
cases  piled  up. 

So  people  had  theil  b 
calls  to  make,  inquir 
ing  of  the  Davisej 
and  then  the  wore 
went  round.  Vacation 
ha!  the  women  all  de 
clared;  the  most  o 
them  were  on  the  sid- 
of  Camden,  critical  o 
Benjy;  though  ther 
were  hearts  whicl 
held  a  jealousy  fo 
both,  and  spoke  it  out 
Plenty  menfolks,  on  the  other  hand,  mad( 
grim  opinion  of  the  waywardness  of  Cam 
den,  goingoff  to  leave  her  husband.  They  swon 
they'd  never  let  their  own  wives  do  a  thin; 
like  that,  though  just  what  means  they'c 
have  taken  to  stop  their  wives  in  such  a  casi  u 
they  never  did  describe.  ' 

We  heard  that  Benjy  stalked  the  woods 
the  .22  beneath  his  arm.  determined  to  hun 
down  that  Bristles  dog.  But  any  trail  th(  ' 
critter  left  behind  him  was  just  as  hard  l(  : 
discern,  now  that  his  mischief  was  worked 
as  it  had  been  when  he  and  Little  Lady  firsi 
departed  to  the  wilderness.  No  track  of  hin 
was  ever  glimpsed  again:  he'd  gone  and  losl| 
himself  in  other  neighborhoods  long  since  i 
and  people  guessed  that  Satan  must  have 
come  to  fetch  him. 

Benjy  kept  a  solitary  life  that  year,  eatint 
mostly  at  his  folks',  and  keeping  well  alool 
except  when  working  with  the  dogs.  H§  had 
another  dog  to  hunt  with,  come  the  middle 
of  the  winter.  Late  one  afternoon,  when  he 
was  getting  feed  down  for  the  stock,  he  heard 
the  grinding  of  an  unfamiliar  car.  He  came 
out,  and  there  it  stood,  a  blue  sedan.  The  facC; 
above  the  driver's  wheel  was  unfamiliar  justi 
as  well. 

Some  ears  went  up  behind  the  seat,  and 
there  was  wagging  fit  to  kill.  Benjy  walked- 
with  slow  pace  to  the  car  and  turned  the 
handle  of  the  door.  Little  Lady  dove  upon 
him. 

"My  name's  Butler,"  said  a  young  man, 
grinning  there  in  front,  and  they  shook  hands. 
It  seemed  that  Butler  was  engaged,  or  nearly 
so,  to  Camden's  Cousin  Florry;  he  had  tc 
drive  to  Rolla  to  see  his  folks,  and  our  regioCj 
wasn't  much  outside  his  route.  Camden  hao 
(Continued  on  Page  156) 


I    \  It  I 


II    u    M  I 


I    1 1 


\  I 


►  iii:rv  voif  SAY 


Tiii  i  ro>i:i(  s  i:>  I       I  II I  \  (.  ! 


liranlv  |ilaslic  .  .  .  (|M,ililv  .  .  .  riij;;ji-il  |i|jiHiic  .  .  . 

you  say  llirm  all  vnIicii  v<iii  say  |{i)lliillr\.  l  or  Itnll.illiA 
is  lidiul  I'tlllir  —  illf\|H'llsivf,  yet  iiiail<-^ii  la-l  lor 
years!  Il  woii'l  rlii|i  or  |mtI,  rtiHiHtH  Hciilliri);,  Hlaiiiin^, 
l  i'liMt/  .  .  .  .iml  \M|ics  rliMii  willi  a  ilaiii|i  i  lolli. 

Altovc  all.  itollalli-x  is  licaiil ilii I.   lis  colors  i;u\i^r. 
Iroin  (Irlicali-  paslcls  to  ilcr|),  ridi  iiiasciiliiK; 
loni's.  llic  |i.illrriis!  .  .  .  sli'ck  ami 

sliiiiy  lor  cliroiiir  (lirwlli's!  I .catlicr- like 
linislics,  IvvtM'dy  Icxliirrs,  (Iccp-clrlii-il 
brocades,  even  jac(|iiaril  florals  in  woven 
Bollaflex  Saran  .  .  .  for  every  1\|m-  of 
finniliire!  Tliere's  a  |)attern  ami  color  lo 
look  "just  riirlil"  witli  (iny  decor. 
When  >oii  re  sliii|i|iiiit:.  look  loi'  iIk; 
Bollaflex  la^.  It's  your  <^u'u\f.  to  ([iialily 
lastics  ...  it  tells  the  best  from  the  rest. 


SEND  FOR  THIS  BOOKLET 

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'iiir 
iraii 


Kolluflpx  at  play  in  lia|i|>y  inflalalilc  toy^ 
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Wonderful  new  Boltu-Wall  in  hand- 
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156 


L  A   D    I    E    S  ' 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


Meadow  Gold  f 

Mealtime 
Adventures 


Recipe  -for 
RED  DEVIL'S  FOOD  CAKE 

3  aquares  (3  oz.)  unsweetened  chocolate 
IVz  cups  sugar 

1^4  cups  Meadow  Gold  Buttermilk 
cup  Meadow  Gold  Butter 
3  Meailow  Gold  K^gs  • 
2V4  cups  sifted  cake  flour 
1  tsp.  soda 
V2  tsp.  salt 
1  tsp.  vanilla 
Vz  tsp.  red  food  coloring 

Melt  chocolate  in  top  of  double  boiler. 
Add  '  2  cup  sugar  and  Vz  cup  buttermilk 
and  stir  until  smooth.  Cool.  Cream  but- 
ter; gradually  add  remaining  cup  sugar 
and  beat  until  light  and  fluffy.  Beat  in 
eggs  one  at  a  time.  Add  H  sifted  dry  in- 
gredients. Stir  in  chocolate  mixture, 
vanilla  and  red  food  coloring.  Gradually 
add  rest  of  dry  ingredients  alternately 
with  remaining  H  cup  buttermilk.  Mix 
thoroughly.  Pour  batter  into  2  greased 
9-inch  cake  pans.  Bake  in  a  moderate 
oven  (350°)  25-30  minutes. 

For  the  best  in 
cooking  and  eating, 
aliiays  ask  for 
Meadow  Gold  ^ 
Butter,  Eggs, 
Milk  and 
Cottage  Cheese. 
Meadoiv  Gold  is 
mighty  good! 


tested  tecV?f  he\i&W* 
Ten  nev  <f  !.\«cVv  bak^«|  ^eUfW, 
cakes OtanS^,  ^  On 

©  ldS3.  BEATRICE  FOODS  CO. 


(Continued  from  Page  .154} 
asked  him  to  fetch  the  foxhound  home 
again. 

"Better  stop  awhile,"  Benjy  muttered,  but 
young  Butler  claimed  he  had  to  be  a-getting 
on. 

Benjy  said  abruptly,  speaking  from  a  heart 
so  mightily  disturbed,  "How's  my  wife?" 

"Camden?  She's  just  fine,  far  as  I  know. 
I  only  saw  her  briefly  when  I  stopped  to  get 
the  dog." 

In  another  minute  Butler'd  shaken  hands 
again  and  driven  off.  Benjy  stood,  with 
Little  Lady  rubbing  tight  against  his  leg,  and 
watched  the  car  recede.  He  put  his  hand 
down  slow,  a-feeling  Little  Lady's  head  and 
mouth  and  then  her  soft  and  tender  under- 
side. 

She  was  dried  up,  but  you  could  tell  she'd 
had  some  pups.  Those  hairy  feists,  thought 
Benjy  Davis.  Bet  ten  dollars  C(^den  kept  the 

lot.  She  couldn't  drown  a  pup.  She  couldn't  

Then  he  spat,  and  swore  within  himself,  and 
lifted  up  his  arm  to  brush  across  his  face. 
He  went  back,  old  and  heavy,  to  his  work, 
and  Little  Lady  bounced  along. 

But  rumors  still  persisted  through  the 
months  as  they  were  bound  to  do.  At  last  one 
whisper  reached  the  ears  of  Benjy  and  drove 
deep  like  a  nail  into  his  brain. 

It  was  warm  spring — I  remember,  be- 
cause I  had  picked  up  the  two  least  Arm- 
strong girls  on  the  side  road  from  Chilly 
Branch  (they  had  whole  fistfuls  of  bluebells 
and  com  lilies;  they  were  good  to  look  at, 
with  their  scraggly  gingham  dresses,  and 
warm  faces  all  excited  by  wildflowers  and  the 
spring). 

Benjy  turned  sharp  right  out  of  his  lane. 
As  our  cars  met  and  passed  I  must  have 
looked  my  astonishment,  because  he  was 
dressed  up  with  a  suit  and  necktie— not  his 
usual  clothing. 

I  peered  back ;  he  had  halted  in  the  weeds, 
so  I  stopped  my  own  car  and  walked  toward 
him.  He  didn't  get  out— just  sat  there  with 
his  hand  on  the  wheel  and  the  clean  new 
motor  still  turning,  even  when  I  stood  near 
the  door. 

"Word  came  to  me,"  he  said.  "Maybe  it's 
not  so.  I  did  hear  that  Camden  was  sick  in 
the  hospital." 

"Whereabouts?" 

"Guess  it  would  be  in  Warrensburg,  John- 
son County.  That's  just  about  as  close  to 
the  farm  as  Independence  or  Kansas  City, 
and  her  relatives  have  got  an  old  doctor 
friend  there." 

I  had  heard  the  same  tale  through  my 
sister-in-law,  and  even  more  than  that,  but 
judged  that  Camden  would  inform  her  hus- 
band if  she  really  wanted  him  at  her  bedside. 
"  Do  you  think  she's  took  very  bad?  " 

"The  story  that  came  to  me  didn't  say," 
he  told  me. 

This  was  merely  a  time  for  the  rubbing  of 
fingers  on  a  car  door,  for  listening  to  the  light 
breeze  and  new  frogs  in  the  slough— not  a 
time  for  asking  specialized  questions. 

"You  seem  to  be  on  your  way." 

His  tanned  face  looked  mighty  grim.  "Lit- 
tle Lady's  over  at  pa's.  I've  fixed  it  with  your 
brother  Del,  for  him  to  look  after  the  stock." 
Away  he  traveled. 

Later  he  related  some  portions  of  what  was 
in  his  heart,  but  the  whole  story  was  long  in 
the  telling.  He  said  that  he  broke  a  pinion  or 
some  such  contrivance  in  the  difTerential  of 
his  car  when  only  part  way  to  Johnson 
County.  Therefore  it  was  late  in  the  evening 
before  repairs  could  be  made  and  the  remain- 
ing miles  could  be  crossed,  and  he  might  park 
beneath  strange  trees  in  Warrensburg. 

He  had  inquired  the  way  and  found  it  with 
ease.  Now  that  he  was  arrived  he  couldn't 
bring  himself  to  step  inside  the  hospital  door. 
He  walked  across  and  around,  patrolling  the 
region  of  the  hospital  for  hours.  He  was 
fighting  back  the  vanity  of  his  spirit,  and 
then  yielding  once  more,  and  having  it  rise 
in  wrath  to  direct  his  steps. 

There  spread  ghastly  bright  lights  in  what 
might  have  been  an  operating  room ;  and  he 
thought  of  Camden  there  with  masked  peo- 
ple all  about ;  he  thought  of  her  lying  silent 
beneath  some  napkins  on  her  face,  as  he  had 
witnessed  in  moving  pictures. 


So  at  last  Benjy  tore  his  legs  loose  from 
the  ropes  which  bound  them.  He  forced  him- 
self along  a  sidewalk  and  through  a  door, 
determined  to  stand  beside  her  bed;  and 
maybe  she  would  let  hirn  take  her  hand ;  but 
maybe  she  would  only  turn  her  head  slightly 
to  the  side,  and  look  away  forever. 

There  didn't  seem  to  be  anylxxly  in  the 
hospital  offices  at  that  hour.  Benjy  went 
a-hunting.  The  scent  of  awful  drugs  was  in 
his  nostrils,  and  fearful  restricted  silence 
bleating  in  his  ears;  then  he  would  hear  a 
murmur  behind  a  door  which  he  couldn't 
understand.  In  one  room  some  poor  soul  was 
weeping  aloud,  as  if  in  pain.  Not  groaning, 
not  screaming  high,  he  said;  but  just  crying 
as  if  so  sad,  so  sad. 

Down  a  far  corridor  at  last  he  saw  a  little 
desk  and  a  white  shape  sitting.  Thus  he  went 
up,  bareheaded  and  on  tiptoe  and  all  con- 
strained, asking  after  his  wife  but  not  saying 
that  she  was  his-. 

'  Mrs.  Camden  Davis?"  The  nurse  or  sis- 
ter (Benjy  didn't  know;  she  wore  a  queer 
cap)  repeated  the  name  that  way.  She  didn't 
say,  "Mrs.  Benjamin  S.  Davis." 

The  lady  smiled  and  said,  "Why,  she's 
just  fine.  She  was  discharged  from  the  hospi- 
tal yesterday." 

"I'm  obliged  to  you,"  said  Benjy,  and  he 
turned  and  walked  away. 

The  nose  of  his  automobile  seemed  point- 
ing toward  the  late  Mr.  Elnathan  Camden's 
farm,  over  yonder  across  the  county  line, 
when  again  Benjy  stood  in  the  street.  Like 
an  eager  metal  dog  the  car  seemed  lifting  up 
imaginary  ears,  demanding,  "Shall  we  go?" 

But  sternness  of  nature  and  habit  wouldn't 
let  him  soften.  His  spirit  should  have  been 
buzzing  with  reassurance,  and  thankfulness 


that  the  one  he  loved  was  now  stn 
stead  there  dwelt  in  him  only  the  sana 
den  emptiness  which  had  oppressed 
since  a  special  hour  in  August,  so  gt 
hideously  gone. 

He  climbed  into  his  car  and  drove  1^ 
the  house  above  Heaven  Creek.  He  si 
only  once  on  the  way;  it  was  after  da] 
when  he  got  home. 


Certain  I  am  that  Benjy  cussed  hji 
thousand  times  for  insolence  and  the  c| 
which  he  awarded  Camden.  A  lesser  ^ 
or  kinder,  softer — or  one  less  flavorfj 
the  stony  happenings  that  made  their' 
before:  oh,  such  a  man  could  not 
stood  it  long.  He'd  have  been  there,  low 
his  knees,  begging  by  all  that  he  held 
in  its  beauty,  begging  for  mercy  an 
giveness  and  a  swift  return. 

Not  Benjy.  That  was  not  the  Davi 
Just  like  his  father,  quiet  and  toui 
knotty  (one  wife  dead  so  long  behi 
Spring,  and  seven  children  perished  w^ 
when  the  smallpox  struck,  and  si: 
years  old  the  time  he  sired  Benjy).  N( 
other  person  in  our  region  could  have 
Jake  Terry  down  for  the  apparent  slayi  j 
Bugle  Ann;  plenty  would  talk,  and  wii  o 
take  such  strong  revenge,  but  none 
have  dared  to  pull  the  trigger. 

Other  young  husbands  might  have 
with  their  wives,  and  yelled  and 
spoken  abuse  and  taken  it ;  they  might! 
even  severed  paths  awhile,  although  I 
it.  But  once  the  evil  stood  committed,! 
would  have  felt  a  change  of  heart,  and 
around  and  cried  amends. 

(Continued  on  Page  ISC) 


Partly  to  satisfy  the  outdoor  appetites 
of  our  "dudes"  after  their  morning  horse- 
back rides  here  at  C.M.  Hanch  and  partly 
to  use  the  abundance  of  trout  available 
here,  I  concocted  this  fish  chowder.  Our 
guests  are  most  enthusiastic  about  it. 

^  ft 

\     'We  serve  it  as  a  main  dish  for  luncheon, 
\  with  bread  sticks  and  a  greeil  salad. 


Fifth  Chowder:  Steam  2  whole 
trout  or  other  small  whole  fish 
(weighing  about  VA  pounds 
each)  with  2  teaspoons  salt  and 
2  cups  water  on  a  rack  in  a  cov- 
ered pan  about  20  minutes.  Save 
the  stock.  (You  may  substitute 
2^  2  pounds  of  any  fresh  or  frozen 
fish  fillets  for  the  whole  fish.) 
Skin,  bone  and  flake  the  fish  in 
large  pieces.  Dice  5  strips  bacon; 
fry  until  crisp.  Remove  bacon 
and  saute  %  cup  chopped  onion 
in  the  drippings  until  golden.  In 
a  saucepan  mix  1  cup  fish  stock, 
2  cups  milk,  1'4  cups  heavy 
cream,  2  tablespoons  butter  or 


margarine,  1  medium-to-large 
cooked  potato,  diced,  2*2  tea- 
spoons salt,  ,'4  teaspoon  pepper, 
the  bacon,  onions  and  flaked  fish. 
Heat  just  to  boiling  point. 
Serves  6. 

If  you  haVe  ■  freezer,  you 

might  like  to  make  up  the  base 
of  the  chowder  in  a  double  or 
triple  batch  (all  but  the  milk 
and  cream)  and  freeze  in  plastic 
or  glass  containers  with  tight- 
fitting  covers.  It  keeps  well  for  at 
least  a  month.  When  you're  in 
the  mood  for  chowder,  thaw,  add 
milk  and  cream.  Heat. 


"    I    K    S  •       II    II    \|    I        I  11 


I     11     S    \  I 


< 


or  modern  people,  modern  taste... 


Mm 


NEVER  was  a  whole  generation  better  to  look  at  than 
the  slim,  lithe  youngsters  of  today.  What's  more, 
insurance  figures  say  they'll  live  longer  than  their  grand- 
parents did.  And  much  of  the  reason  is  their  modern, 
more  sensible  diet. 

That's  why  today  Pepsi-Cola  is  more  popular  than  ever. 
Because  it  has  constantly  kept  pace  with  the  wholesome 


change  in  taste  to  lighter  foods  and  lighter  beverages. 

Today's  lighter  Pepsi-Cola  is  dry,  never  too  sweet  or 
heavy,  reduced  in  calories.  It  refreshes  without  fdling. 

Enjoy  it  whenever  you  want  refreshment — either  in  the 
familiar  big  economy  bottle  for  two,  or  in  the  new  single- 
drink  size.  Have  a  Pepsi  —  the 
modern,  the  light  refreshment. 


I>EI>SI-COJLA. 


158 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


ijoarcdoice  of  fuie  lianJmade  ^sfom  crijstaL 


to  (jrrtce  your  own 


or  for  a  qlft  to  he  rememherc^ 


'        '     /ft  * 

f  i 


1/  / 


\ 


6\  ^  4B  (  , 


FOSTORIA  GLASS  COIDPAny   ♦   ITlOUnDSViaE   •   lUEST  VIRGiniA 

ALL   FOSTORIA    IS   HANDMADE    IN   AMERICA,    AVAILABLE    IN   OPEN  STOCK. 


3  "^iyt 


1 1  I 


M  I 


H'lintinued  from  I'une  J  Ho) 
.  .1  Ik  iijy  Davis,  once  :i«:iin.  Ml-  wi  til  liis 
ii«im  way  in  solitude,  inaybe  la-  waiilfti 
iM  li;  lie  couldn't  niflt  Ixrausc  lie  ucviT 
I  I  he  lialill.  lie  told  nic  otice,  in  |)uri'Sl 
IkIciuc,  lliat  lie  had  starlfd  U-ltcrs  |)l<'nty 
iiiirs.  Ill'  sat  tliirc  iti  till'  breakfast  n(H)k 
I  M  iati'lu'd  on  diii^;stotf  iiapfr.  My  Drar 
■ndiii.  he'd  hiuiii  Or  Dun  Wife,  I  low  are 
I  (im  Hue 

If  had  nt'ilhcr  iikmkI  nor  iialurc  for  tlii- 
k.  He  couldn't  siH'ak  Ihc  I'lnptiiifss  within 

:  isdf,  the  raw  ri't;rct,  the  love  lie'fl  l)orne 
1  still  would  hear,  no  matter  how  she 
yed  away.  S)  another  wad  of  paper  ii) 

.  stove,  another  rul)  on  I.ittli'  Lady's 
id.  another  walk  outside  to  listen  to  the 
ippoorwills  or  sleet,  de|)eii(liiu',  on  the 

;  son. 

le  had  made  ilie  deepest  hurt  in  her  far 
aver  than  she  hacked  in  him  so  he  could 
K    forgive   himself;  and   so  he  walked 

(Hi^;li  hie,  a  \()unn 
,111  turned  (o  v^iiarls, 
1    worked  his  farm; 

tended  on  his  par- 
ils.  faithful  and  de- 
led   as    could  he, 

)uv;h  never  speakiiii; 
ii;;  he  went  hilltop- 


The  Door  Left  Open 


HuttiTPUlH  turnL-d  out.  Tliey  int-l,  Iht-y  ale. 
lliey  downed  wime  ju^h;  ilii-ir  vmvi-<  anrl 
sisters  had  a  clack  of  kohhip,  and  clnldn  ii 
ualloiM'd  niiflerlool.  i|n  lime  llioy  widened 
It,  ilniH  including  lui^liljorit  wlw)  had  worn 
the  iilue  and  iouktlil  iiiMin  the  other  Hide  ) 

1  could  rememlH-r  when  I  wan  u  child, 
ten  years  In  lore  the  l-'irst  World  Wat  llim- 
kelson  the  tal)le.  piled  hi^li  with  IxiwIh  and 
pans  the  apple  s;ilad  with  its  tasty  dieHsin^;, 
and  sweet  iMiiato  pies,  and  ham  all  hied  and 
cold,  and  one  h\v.  cake  with  little  H|M-ckle<l 
candles  on  the  lop.  .And  (irampa'd  lock  Iiih 
arm  with  old  Lap  Hurley,  anil  they'd  •diit; 
Uelx-llion  sonns. 

^  Ai'  in  Ki  i,v  didn'l  own  a  dot;    not  any 
more;  he'd  lost  Ins  farm  and  all  his  folks 
were  deaO,  and  it  was  simple  charity  winch 
madi'  the  yoiinner  l'etll^;rews  retain  liini  as  a 
lured  man.  ^'et  lie  had  ril)l)ons  Iroiii  thos<' 
other  Hullernuls  so  kin^;  In-fore;  he  pinned 
them    last    iiixiti  his 
shirt,  with  his  Confi'd- 
urate  medal. 

This  was  the  Hut- 
teriuil  we'd  ni.'inaK'.ed, 
each  auliimn  all  akm^ 
the  years,  thou^•.h  I 
missed  a  few  when  I 


Iti  Hflt'tt  S.  n  hltf 

I  do  not  thmk  Itioio  will  ho  ptiaco  at 
all; 

And  not  again  tho  sloopy  childhood 
noon, 

Tho  door  loft  open,  sunliglit  on  the 
wall. 

The  soft,  familiar  luinimiru]  of  a 
tune. 

The  smell  of  grass,  and  windows 

l)reathing  spring 
A  woman  in  the  hall  with  laundry 
piled 

High  in  her  arms,  a  drowsy  call 

would  bring 
Smiling  to  see  a  small  awakening 
child. 

For  where  I  am  the  noon  forgets  its 
peace 

And  people  hurry  past  the  urgent 
day 

To  restless  night  and  cannot  find 
release 

And  cannot  weep  and  have  no  word 
to  say. 

I  would  walk  back  the  numliered 

years  from  youth 
To  find  again  a  simple  sunlit  truth. 


lu  with  the  rest  of  us 
ouuhout  the  many 
inlhs,  but  never 
iiid  such  childish  joy 
he  had  known  Ix'- 
e.  And  all  his  silences 
•re  l()ni;er. 

1  think  it  works  that 
ly  complete,  and  al- 
lys  has:  we  (ind  it 
ach  a  simpler  thini; 
disregard  t  he  wounds 
lich  other  people  tear 
I  us  than  to  foriiivo 
e  wounds  we  make 
lliem. 

1  luis  lagijod  a  sum- 

er.  winter,  spring 
i:ain.  and  on,  until  two 
I'ars  and  more  had 

issed  since  Camden 

'd  away  to  Jackson 

Hinty.    People  had 

Ikcd  aliout  the  Davis 

isiness  until  they  wore 
nitjh  to  death,  and 
'  iried  it— and  some- 
Kiies  they  dug  it  up 

;ain. 

Oak  leaves  curled 
ice  more,  the  maples 
littered  off  their  yel- 
wness  and  red;  thorn 
iples  turned  to  pink, 
id  there  was  smoky 
'aze  banked  upatrainsl 
le  clouds  each  sunset. 

All  the  hound  men  in  that  area  lx\i;an  to 
;iy  their  bets.  Early  and  late  their  doijs 
urst  throu.uh  the  valleys;  this  was  a  time 
n  culling  the  packs  by  hand,  and  loos- 
ig  them  to  run  by  day  instead  of  night, 
ying  to  correct  all  faults  which  showed, 
tid  robbing  Peter,  paying  Paul— kxjking 
toe  pads,  changing  feed,  and  guiding 
oung  hounds  in  the  manner  of  the  best  and 
Idcst.  The  running  of  the  Butternut,  we 
ailed  it.  and  the  day  approached. 

riii-:  old  tan  Rebels  of  the  long  ago  were 
ailed  by  Yankees  •■Butternuts."  They 
idn't  have  the  proper  sort  of  cloth  for  uni- 
)rms,  and  had  to  dye  it  from  the  husks  of 
uts.  like  squaws.  So  finally  they  took  in 
ride  the  name  applied  to  them,  and  used  it 
)r  their  own. 

The  war  was  fought,  and  soldiers  came 
raipsing  home—at  least  those  mcnfolks 
ame  who  hadn't  found  a  couch  in  Arkansas 
r  Tennessee.  One  fine  autumn  day  some 
arly  Davises  and  Lanceys  and  the  rest,  they 
,ad  their  dogs  a-working  on  a  fox  or  two: 
nd  bets  were  passed,  and  arguments  were 
ired.  A  jug  of  liquor  was  the  prize. 

That's  how  it  started,  in  the  olden  times, 
nd  through  the  years  our  Butternut  was 
ilways  set  for  fall.  It  got  to  be  an  insti- 
ution— a  reunion,  too,  for  all  the  Rebel 


was  gone  to  war  or  in 
the  hospital.  A  show,  a 
race,  a  contest  and  ;i 
get-together,  with  lid- 
dle  songs  and  ballads 
in  the  night  that  fol- 
lowed; and  they  ust'd 
to  have  a  superstition 
that  any  romance  which 
develoiH'd  at  a  Butti-r- 
nut  would  Ix'  blessed 
with  scads  of  children. 

Only  some  twenty 
years  lx;fore,  or  less, 
when  the  Army  needed 
sjK'cial  w(K)d  to  use  on 
ai.'planes  somehow  or 
other,  they  sent  a  bunch 
of  knowledgeable  men 
around  in  timberland, 
to  hunt  the  necessary 
sort  of  walnut  trees.  Old 
Cap  Hurley  in  his  dy- 
ing year  still  owned  a 
patch  of  woods  consid- 
ered merely  tit  for  hogs 
to  range  in. 

Those  Government 
men,  they  bought  Cap 
Hurley's  timber,  nearly 
every  slick  of  it;  and 
he  had  paid  but  seven 
dollars    taxes  previ- 
ously. And  when  Cap 
died  he  left  the  bulk 
of  his  g(X)d  fortune  to 
the  Pettigrcws:  every- 
body thought  it  well  deserved.  But  one  line 
thing  he'd  done  for  the  vicinity:  he'd  taken 
that  old  hand-turned  jug  they  used  to  use 
for  treasure  at  the  Butternut,  with  names 
of  dogs  and  owners  scribbled  on  in  pencil. 
He  made  the  local  drug-and-walch-repair 
man  send  it  off  somewhere  or  other;  and 
sad  I  must  relate  that  it  was  not  returned 
until  Cap  had  died,  a-chasing   foxes  in 
his  sleep  with  dogs  he  hadn't  heard  for  forty 
\'ears. 

But  when  the  jug  came  back,  delivered  in 
a  locked-up  trunk  down  at  the  station,  mar- 
velous voices  spread  the  news.  That  old  gray 
jug  with  rosy  varnish  round  the  top— it  wore 
a  silver  band,  a  band  as  broad  as  any  lady's 
sash  or  even  broader.  On  that  silver  stood 
engraved  the  name  of  every  dog  and  every 
individual  who  owned  him,  who'd  ever  won 
the  Butternut- all  taken  down,  with  dates, 
before  the  pencil  marks  were  scrubbed  away. 

It  was  a  monumental  trophy  sure  enough; 
and  each  year  after  it  was  on  display  men 
locked  it  up  again  down  at  the  bank.  Then, 
each  season  when  the  date  was  set  again,  the 
Butternut  jug  came  out  of  hiding,  to  be  ad- 
mired and  desired  by  every  soul  who'd  had  a 
hound  to  win  the  race  before,  and  every  soul 
who  hadn't.  The  name  of  Springfield  Davis 
blazed  the  most— nine  times;  and  there  were 
Maitlands.  Pettigrews  and  Lanceys  in  pro- 


My  skin 
just  looked 
sallow 


\  liUM'innliiii;,  immrituilf  cliaiiKr  laii  i  niiir  u\ci  yiiuf  lair 


-then  I  SdW  1 1<  iv\  rii  lie  Ii  Mil  >i  I' 
illlti   iil\   -km  I  Diih!  Ill  .   It  Im-I 
lli.il    lit',i\  \  °°  liMik  lli.il  -  -II  liiinii-l\ 

—  I  saw  lliiw  lillirll  lirillhli-i  lll\  eolnr 
w,i~.   \iiil  iin  -kin  fell  Miinolliri 

I  didn't  really  believe  it  mini  I 

Mill    II   lldjljll  ll   III  lll\    1)1111  sl.lll. 

it'.-  a  Im>-  III  iiaiiirai  ml  and  fiioisture 
that  often  makes  skin  lose  its  fresh  tone. 

'I'll  Niippiv  oil  and  moisdire  your  skin 
iii-eils  n^iiltirlv,  Ifi  remove  pore-elofy^inf; 
dirt  thai  iliills  vour  skin  -^lliere  is  an  ex- 
clusive liirmulation  of  sfuii-lirlpiiif:  in- 
gredients in  Piind  s  VaM  (Team. 


[imvxhvt  lliriM!  iiiKri-<ii('nl"  Hi'fk  nil 
your  Hkin  a%  a  imm  in  intfr-arlioii.  A* 
you  Hwirl  on  i'diiirx  0>M  (lre«m,  you  help 
W/i  .side*  of  your  ikiii. 

Oiii^ilr  cirilicddird  dirl  i«  WUnS  from 
|iiire-ii|N-nin^H.  \iiil  ni  tlir  vimr  timr.  your 
<<kiii  i-  ^ivfn  sinootliiii^  nil  and  nioi«lur«-. 

hi\ulf — rireulalion  i-^  Hiitiiulatcd,  lirlp- 
in^  the  ^kin  re|Miir  an<l  n-finc  ilsrif. 

I\tirh  iiiuhl  nive  your  ftkiii  flii"  lu-lp: 

Soft-claani*-  SmitI  I'onH'ii  ('.iiU\  Otram 
.ill  i.M  T  Miiir  fdrr  anil  lliroal.  Timtur  off  uW/. 

So(t-rini«  ijuicklv  vtilh  more  xkin-hrlping 
I'diiiI  -  ^  .ll\l\  Ocani.  Ti»Bije  i iff  lightly. 

Tfxhiy — po  lr>  vour  favorit*-  facf  cream 
eon  liter  and  gel  I'diiil'-  Olid  Crfam. 


GLAMOROUS  WOMEN  DEPEND  ON  PROFESSIONAL  HAIR  CARE 


PERMANENT  WAVES 


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fusion;  old  Ed  Armstrong  won  it  twice,  and 
so  did  pa;  and  thrice  the  name  of  Benjamin 
Davis  loomed.  I  was  there  once. 

Always  a  new  name  for  the  winning  dog 
each  year.  That  was  a  rule:  no  hound  who'd 
ever  won  a  Butternut  could  run  in  one  again. 
And  every  owner  limited  to  a  single  entry; 
it  was  No-Holds-Barred,  a  Jack-Pot,  Kitty- 
Bar-lhe-Door  and  Free-for-All.  A  hound  of 
any  age,  so  long  as  he  could  run:  a  dog  or 
gyp,  it  didn't  matter  which. 

It  was  a  Saturday — the  last  one  in  Octo- 
ber. We  poked  and  peeked  at  almanacs  and 
signs,  and  trembled  when  the  storms  pro- 
tracted ;  we  quivered  when  it  rained  the  night 
before,  we  said  a  Hallelujah  when  the  morn- 
ing dawned  with  just  the  barest  delicacy  of 
mist,  and  skies  turned  cool  and  saucer-blue 
above,  and  no  southeast  wind  a-hinting. 

XI 

If  we'd  possessed  burglars  in  our  country 
they  would  have  had  good  pickings  on  that 
Sat  irday,  for  practically  every  house  was 
guiltless  of  life  before  ten  o'clock  when  the 
bench  show  started  in. 

I  was  chairman  for  grounds  and  parking, 
like  I'd  been  the  last  two  years,  so  I  was 
present  at  six  o'clock  or  just  before;  my 
brother  Del  was  chairman  for  refreshments 
and  the  barbecue,  and  he'd  been  there  with 
other  members  of  his  committee  since  the 
night  before,  toiling  with  pit  and  firewood. 

Smoke  ascended  spicy  among  the  boughs 
and  drifted  out  to  scent  the  valley  sides  of 
lower  Heaven  Creek.  We'd  held  the  Butter- 
nut in  this  same  grove  for  at  least  a  genera- 
tion. There  was  a  claybank  out  beyond, 
where  folks  could  sit  by  scores  and  catch 
each  shouting  of  the  dogs  as  they  went  speed- 
ing over  the  ravines. 

Just  before  our  program  started  up.  when 
I  was  working  with  a  loose  plank  of  the  plat- 
form we  had  built  on  hollow  tiles,  I  rose  to 
see  the  form  of  Benjy  Davis  striding  close 
and  staring  hard.  His  eyes  were  little  chunks 
of  coal,  and  he  was  pale  beneaih  his  tan  as  if 
he'd  seen  a  dozen  ghosts  -and  liked  them, 
though  they  frightened  him. 

"She's  here,"  he  blurted. 

Something  gave  a  pound  inside  me.  "Just 
who's  here?"  I  asked,  pretending  calm. 

"Camden.  She's  got  a  funny  dog  on  leash. 

I  guess  it's  one  of  those  "  He  stared  a 

moment  longer,  then  turned  abrupt  and 
walked  away,  the  judge's  badge  apparent  on 
his  shirt. 

I  worked  an  old  brick  underneath  the 
plank  so  it  lay  true,  and  then  I  made  my 
way  toward  that  small  table  where  the 
owners  signed.  A  line  stretched  out,  with 
dogs  in  tow,  and  Uncle  Punch  Lancey  sat 
alongside  old  Ed  Armstrong,  signing  hounds 
for  race  or  bench  or  both. 

And  there  stood  Camden  in  the  row,  wait- 
ing her  turn,  and  looking  lovelier  than  any 
branch  of  autumn  leaves.  She  wore  a  skirt 
and  sweater  of  the  shade  of  robins'  eggs,  and 
had  her  red  hair  wrapped  up  in  a  silken  scarf. 
I  went  and  grinned  and  squeezed  her  hand, 
as  many  others  did;  and  usually  the  rest 
went  off  to  whisper  afterward,  and  wonder 
what  this  meant,  and  tip  their  crafty  glance 
at  Benjy. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "it's  good  you've  come." 

"The  Butternut,"  she  said.  "  I  didn't  want 
to  miss  it." 

"Camden,  are  you  entering?" 

She  murmured  that  she  was,  and  we  both 
fell  silent,  looking  down  at  that  strange  dog 
which  she  was  leading.  Bristles,  sure 
enough — you  couldn't  miss  the  mark — with 
hair  all  bushy  on  his  neck  and  face,  though 
he  had  stifles  built  far  out  like  Little  Lady. 
He  looked  as  stickery  as  that  old  skate  who 
sired  him. 

"He's  good,"  came  Camden's  little  voice. 
"Bake,  you  never  need  to  look  like  that.  I 
haven't  lost  my  mind." 

But  still  I  thought  she  had,  and  so  did 
everyone.  I  gazed  around  for  Benjy;  he  was 
standing,  lonely  and  aloof  beyond  the  chair- 
men's table,  and  people  gave  him  room. 

"Tell  me.  Bake.  Is  Mr.  Davis  here  as 
yet?" 

"No."  I  said.  "He's  far  too  old,  and  he 
has  seen  a  lot  of  Butternuts.  He  doesn't  care 
too  much  for  bench,  and  the  long  program 


Apr  1% 

wearies  him.  My  brother  Tom  will  pichu 
up  and  fetch  him,  before  the  race  begii  thK 
afternoon."  i 

All  this  while  the  line  deployed,  njim 
on  slowly  to  the  entry  table,  and  all, 
Camden  waited  with  her  sorry  potlickibt 
fore  the  gaze  of  Uncle  Punch. 

Now  he  was  liked— regarded  with  a'w 
ment  too.  But  Uncle  Punch  was  far  too  i  np. 
ous  and  he  had  a  stuffiness  of  atthdi 
He'd  been  a  mailman  in  his  time,  am  iki 
did  some  veterinary  work,  and  taught  j ink- 
ing school  for  years  without  success,  a  1  al- 
ways  ran  for  county  clerk  but  never  wc:  He 
was  bald  and  brown  and  squinty-eyecijnd 
tried  to  talk  like  any  senator. 

"Name?"  he  demanded,  though  he  jiew 
her  name  so  well.  I 

She  gave  her  name. 

"One  moment,"  then  said  Uncle  Pjich 
He  laid  his  pencil  down  and  squinted  (iro 
at  Camden.  "The  race  is  only  open  tlth 
folks  in  this  here  county.  I  take  it  that  jji're 
not  a  resident  no  longer." 

Behind  him,  Benjy  Davis  cleared  his 
throat.  His  face  was  burning  bright,  buiitill 
he  never  looked  to  watch  his  wife,  "'  icle 
Punch,"  he  called,  no  matter  what  itlost 
him  in  the  coin  of  his  embarrassmen' "1 
guess  that  you've  been  misinformed,  (iim- 
den's  my  wife,  and  she's  officially  a  res  5nl 
as  much  as  you." 

Uncle  Punch  Lancey  pursed  his  lipi  iol- 
emnly,  and  seemed  about  to  write,  andiien 
he  put  his  pencil  down  again.  "But' his 
thing  she's  got  with  her.  I  always  ui  er- 
stood  the  Butternut  was  open  solely  t<  the 
breed  of  foxhounds.  I  wouldn't  try  tc  tin 
Old  Rags,  my  collie,"  and  a  laugh  went  gh 
but  nervous  through  the  crowd. 

Camden  stiffened.  She  seemed  aboi  to 
speak,  but  her  young  husband  was  aheij  ol 
her.  "Uncle  Punch,"  cried  Benjy  in  dis.  st. 
"don't  be  a  worse  fool  than  you  are!  'lat 
dog  is  out  of  Little  Lady.  Little  Lady  ion 
the  Butternut  three  years  ago— her  Ifst 
time  in— as  everybody  knows.  You  (ji't 
scratch  out  a  pup  .from  any  champion, "ind 
people  buzzed  about  it.  A  dozen  men'le- 
clared,  "That's  right,"  so  he  had  to  wri!  it 
down  at  last. 

The  name  was  Little  Bristles.  Can  en 
opened  up  a  big  limp  leather  bag  a-hanlng 
from  her  arm,  took  out  a  purse  and  paid  ye 
dollars'  entrance  fee.  She  walked  away  'e- 
mote  and  never  looking  back,  and  all  lie 
little  kids  were  skirmishing  to  gel  ano  er 
look  at  that  strange  Airedale-coated  an  fal 
as  if  he  was  a  lion  or  a  bear  out  of  a  circi ' 

She  placed  her  dog  within  her  car,  an(  et 
him  lie  on  blankets  she  had  folded,  andjie 
fetched  fresh  water  from  the  pump  and  fijid 
his  pan.  She'd  let  him  snooze,  I  knew,  u;il 
the  Butternut  was  called.  The  prog'tn 
started  soon;  and  there 'd  be  the  bench  shiv, 
then  the  barbecue  and  basket  dinner.  T'ln 
everyone  would  take  it  easy— sit  and  jJj, 
and  smoke  and  visit  round— until  the  1 3e 
was  called. 

The  prayer  was  by  the  Reverend  Mi- 
terey  Adair.  Then  there  came  music,  foi  is 
usual  we'd  hauled  a  little  parlor  organ  fi  n 
the  Pettigrews',  and  Widow  Amy  L  h 
played  it  sweet.  The  crowd  sang  Dixie^n 
honor  of  the  famous  Rebels  all  depar  d 
now  except  for  Springfield  Davis,  and  e 
hadn't  come  as  yet.  And  Glory  Hallelujal  n 
memory  of  Unionists. 

Young  Archie  Armstrong  sang  The  Hu  - 
ing  of  John  Peel,  and  Gabriel  Strickland  w  i 
his  melodic  guitar  he  sang  Ranger  and  tl  i 
The  Fox  Upon  a  Stilly  Night.  People  clapi  1 
their  hands  off,  and  whistles  sounded  shi 

The  bench  show  started  up,  with  di  ^ 
upon  the  platform— people  holding  h  i 
their  tails  to  show  how  wonderful  a  form  a  I 
carriage  each  'one  had.  Although  I  did  L 
give  a  hoot  for  bench,  and  always  thouf 
what  was  the  use  of  Jiolding  any  hound's  t 
up  on  high  if  he  could  never  hold  it  up  hi 
self. 

But  all  the  while  I  searched  for  Benjy  fr< 
the  corner  of  my  eye,  and  found  him  not 
went  away  from  all  the  crowd  at  last,  to  hi 
him  out;  and  finally  he  was  there,  ale 
above  the  claybank  cliff,  sitting  with  ar 
around  his  knees,  and  studying  the  timb 


I 


Ij  1  ol  lovviT  llcavi'ii  C  ii-cl^  ;is  il  lied  ncvt  i 
4'i  a  coltonwoofl  or  bush  hclorc. 

I  liad  known  limi  since  he  (lr;in).^'<l  :i 
.  wiiKoii  III  the  yard;  and  il  was  I  who 
i',hl  liiin  liow  lo  fhiu;  Ins  flarts  atid  whil  i  Ic 
in  from  shinKli's. 

'Benjy,  you're  inavhc  (usiiiu'  heiier  luek 
in  you  deserve  " 
'  I  low  so  ? ' ' 

"l"o  have  her  eonnnj^  l)aek  hke  llus." 
hsvoic-ewas  scrali  liy  but  il  (hdn'l  shake 
wralli.  "I  don'l  say  she's  come  hack, 
■'s  never  spoke  a  word  lo  me.  nor  acted 
■  she  saw  me.  No  doubt  she's  only  come  lo 
1  that  monnrel  in  the  race;  and  it's  an 
[  ull  lo  us  all."  Hut  slill  he  had  no  hiry  in 
lone,  for  lie  was  softened  by  the  beauty  of 
wife,  and  seeln^;  iier  in  prelliness  a«ain. 
'Hake,"  he  said.  "I  k'iu'ss  you  hearrl  I 
ike  no  doubt  that  it  was  talked  ainund 
j've  Kol  a  child." 

"(^h,  yes."  1  told  liim  "  Il  was  a  i)ov,  they 

"And  Camden  never  even  sent  for  me,  nor 
inled  me  to  stand  beside  her  bed." 
"You  went  and  you  came  back." 
"She'd  left  the  hosiiilal;  I  hey  lold  me  she 
is  fine.  I  couldn't  brini;  myself  lo  take  a 
rlher  step.  I  didn't  know  it  was  a  baby  al 
e  lime." 

I'd  had  enou.uh  of  his  restraint  and  sour- 
•ss.  "This  is  your  chance.  It's  my  belief  she 
me  a-purpose  just  to  ^ive  you  oj^porlunity. 
hope  you  won'l  be  pickle-headed  all  your 
e,  and  lose  your  wife  for  keeps,  and  rob 
)ur  own  son  of  a  father's  care,"  and  then  I 
alked  awry.  But  Benjy  never  showed  up 
r  the  bench  or  barbecue;  nor  did  I  see  him 
II  the  race  was  called,  and  judges  stood  to 
;t  their  places  and  assignments. 

XII 

IPRING  D.wis  never  got  a  .glimpse  of  any 
j|3g  before  the  race  began.  He  came  sedate 
ut  ea.ger-eyed.  with  people  shaking  hands 
id  welcoming  on  every  side.  He  looked  like 
lajesty  itself,  all  dressed  up  in  his  long  gray 
)at  with  rich  embroidery  on  the  sleeves,  and 
is  medal  dangled  bold,  and  that  old  slouch 
onfederate  hat  was  pulled  upon  his  milky 
air. 


I'olks  lined  live  (|,,  p  .1I...VC  llie  t,li(|  haul, 
where  I  lie  clay  hIkuu-  hriKht    and  all  the  In 
lie  lufis  of  colored  leave-*  a  iollinn  on  ihr 
forcHl  roof  txlow.  The  lulls  oKxkI  IiikIi  acnm- 
the  hills  lay  mild  and  broken,  up  iIm 
and  down.  We  had  an  aiidiiorinm 
by  (iod  and  made  lo  order. 

My  brother  Tom  brouKlil  foldinK  cluiirH, 
and  made  Sprint;  hii  in  one,  bin  Mrn.  Ihivi 
said  llial  she  prelerred  (he  urmn,  nlie  <i\)rr:i>' 
her  knitted  shawl  and  siii  uimmi  il  like  th< 
oilier  middle-avietl  lolks.  My  father  Calhoun 
Roysler  s<|ualled  iiikIi  to  Spring,  and  offered 
him  a  wauer. 

Benjy  was  oiil  Ihere  in  llie  w(mkIs  lo  lak' 
his  proper  station;  and  Ins  wile  wan  dowti 
iM'kiw  Ihe  hill,  III  loosen  l.illle  Bristles  Wlien 
she  and  oilier  owners  came  back  upward 
through  llie  oak«,  climbing  Ihe  deep-iriKl 
path,  she  went  al  once  lo  s«e  old  Spring  and 
Mrs.  Davis;  and  she  kisse<l  llieni  lx>lh, 
Ihougli  people  slanding  by  siiid  words  were 
never  sjxiken.  They  sjiid  llial  Mrs.  Davis 
wiped  her  eyes,  and  clung  lo  Camden's  hand. 
And  Springfield  skiwly  Ix-ckoned  her  to  sil 
between  the  two  of  them;  so  Camden  knell, 
and  old  Spring  Iweaked  her  hair  just  like  he 
usefi  lo  do. 

All  Ihe  crowd  was  hushed  and  fairly  pious, 
waiting  for  the  jump,  and  strelching  ears  and 
vision  toward  Ihe  gullies  down  Ik-Iow.  There 
were  no  babblers  smelling  in  those  thickets; 
there  hadn't  been  a  voice  uplifted  till  Ihe  fox 
was  slarled  true.  Jusl  moans  and  grunts 
among  those  earnest  hounds,  siiid  judges  who 
were  in  thai  neck  of  limber.  For  these  were 
the  cream  of  cream  throughout  our  region. 
All  talkative  |X)tlickers  had  been  culled  and 
left  at  home,  along  with  former  winners. 

Then  bango.  Flying  Jesse  struck.  He'd  bo 
scored  for  this,  because  he  didn't  have  a  bab- 
ble in  his  heart.  He  had  a  g(M)d  h)ng  note 
upon  this  strike,  but  it  was  coarse  and  rum- 
bly ;  then  he  started  in  lo  chop,  as  usual.  Lee 
Maitland  stood  aloft  and  beal  his  hat  against 
his  thigh;  he  pulled  out  forty  dollars,  then 
and  there,  offering  to  bet  thai  Flying  Jes,se 
would  scalier  hounds  from  hell  lo  breakfast. 

Bango,  another  strike,  and  not  ten  seconds 
after  Jesse  hit.  You  heard  excitement  all 
around.  "A  double-header,"  everybody  yelled. 


Political  Pilgrims  Carry  On 


MRS.  T.  JACKSON  WALLER 


WITH  the  election  over,  I  felt  that 
political  enthusiasm  would  die 
down."  says  Mrs.  Waller  of  Seaford, 
Delaware.  "But  it  was  only  the  begin- 
ning, for  me  and  a  lot  of  other  ama- 
teurs. A  year  ago  the  Women's  Re- 
publican Club  of  Sussex  County  didn't 
exist.  Right  now,  with  200  members, 
we're  running  a  contest  to  get  200 
more." 

Mrs.  Waller  wasn't  even  a  political 
amateur  until  last  spring.  Then  she 
and  her  husband  talked  it  over.  "We 
decided,  since  it  takes  all  his  time  mak- 
ing a  living,  that  we  could  w-ell  follow 
the  Journal's  advice,  and  I  was  the 
one  to  take  an  active  part  in  politics." 
She  helped  to  organize  the  Women's 
Republican  Club,  was  elected  pres- 
ident, and  "had  to  learn  a  lot  of  par- 
liamentary law  in  a  hurry."  She  and 
other  members  "did  all  the  things  that 
every  other  club  did  in  the  campaign." 
On  election  day,  she  worked  24  hours 
as  an  election  clerk  in  her  district. 


Plans  for  the  future?  "We  hope  lo 
get  every  woman  in  Sussex  County  lo 
register  and  vote.  We  are  trying 
to  promote  voting  machines  and 
better  election  laws.  I  expect  to  keep 
trying." 

Like  many  another  Political  Pil- 
grim. Mrs.  Waller  says  she  could  never 
have  undertaken  this  program  without 
her  family's  co-operation  and  encour- 
agement. (The  Wallers  have  three 
children. aged 9.  lOand  11. )Mr. Waller 
takes  no  active  part  himself,  feels  that 
in  furthering  his  wife's  activities  he  is 
contributing  to  good  government. 

She.  in  turn,  shares  his  responsibili- 
ties. As  owner  and  operator  of  a  de- 
partment store,  Mr.  Waller  makes 
frequent  buying  trips.  She  often  ac- 
companies him  to 
help  with  the  buy- 
ing. "But  not  pro- 
fessionally." she 
says.  "Only  as  a 
wife  would." 


roiiiiciii  piLcmM !  nmw 


What  goodrn-.' 


FRENCH S  pure  yellow  Mustard 
adds  that  extra  flavor! 


Canada 


Tender  pink  slices  ringed  in  a 
savory  golden-brown  glaze. 
That's  ham  made  the  French's 
way.  The  secret'?  The  wonder- 
ful flavor  of  French's  pure 
yellow  Mustard.  In  French's 
you  get  the  finest  spices,  mus- 
tard seed  and  vinegar 
money  can  buy.  French's 
rich  mustard  goodness 
doesn't  fade  out  m 
cooking! 

A 


BAKED  HAM 

10-12  lb.  tenderized  smoked  ham 
French's  Whole  Cloves 

1  cup  brown  sugar 

2  lablespocns  flour 

4  tablespoons  French's  Prepared  Mustard 
Wrap  ham  loosely  in  wTapping  paper; 
place  fat  side  up  in  uncovered  roaster. 
Bake  in  mod.  oven  l3'25°F.i  3 '2-'* 
hours.  Remove  paper  and  skin  the  ham. 
Score  fat  in  squares;  stud  squares  with 
cloves.  Mix  together  sugar,  flour,  mus- 
tard. Spread  ham  with  mixture.  Bake 
at  4C)0°F.  until  golden  brown. 


NEW  RECIPE  BOOKLET!  GET  YOUR  COPY! 

The  R.  T.  French  Co. 

1808  Mustard  St.,  Rochester  9,  N.Y. 

Enclosed  is  lO-  in  coin.  Please  send  me  "Seasoning 
Makes  the  Difference!"— your  new,  32-page,  color- 
illustrated  booklet. 


Name 


Address_ 
City  


WHY  TAKE  CHANCES  with  ICSSCr 
methods  when  Listerine  Anti- 
septic instantly  stops  bad  breath,  and 
keeps  it  stopped  usually  for  hours 
on  end? 

No  chlorophyll  kills  odor  bacteria 
like  this . . .  instantly 

You  see,  Listerine  Antiseptic  kills 
millions  of  germs,  including  germs 
that  cause  the  most  common  type  of 
bad  breath  ...  the  kind  that  begins 
when  germs  start  the  fermentation  of 
proteins  which  are  always  present  in 
the  mouth.  And,  research  s/iovvs  that 
your  breath  stays  sweeter  longer  de- 
pending upon  the  degree  to  which  you 
reduce  germs  in  the  mouth.  Brushing 
your  teeth  doesn't  give  you  Listerine's 
antiseptic  protection.  Chlorophyll  or 


chewing  gums  don't  kill  germs. 
Listerine  does. 

Clinically  proved  four  times 
better  than  tooth  paste 

That  is  why  independent  research  re- 
ported Listerine  Antiseptic  averaged 
at  least  four  times  more  effective  in 
reducing  breath  odors  than  three 
leading  chlorophyll  products  and  two 
leading  tooth  pastes. 

So,  no  matter  what  else  you  do,  use 
Listerine  Antiseptic  when  you  want 
to  be  extra-careful  that  your  breath 
does  not  offend.  Rinse  the  mouth 
with  it  night  and  morning,  and  be- 
fore any  date  where  you  want  to 
be  at  your  best.  Lambert  Pharmacal 
Company  Division  of  The  Lambert 
Company,  St.  Louis  6,  Missouri. 


Widow  Amy  Leah  Petligrew  got  up  and 
clapped  her  hands,  because  it  was  her  Music 
Boss  who'd  made  the  second  pickup. 

They  split  and  went  to  work.  One  bunch, 
with  Flying  Jesse  captaining,  tied  to  the  fox 
down  Broken  GuUey ;  and  the  other  gang  had 
cut  Heaven  Creek  in  two  within  a  minute, 
and  giving  voices  like  they'd  made  a  sight. 

Once  in  a  while  we'd  see  them  in  amongst 
the  trees,  burning  the  ground  apart,  and  peo- 
ple yelled  that  they  had  seen  a  fox,  and  once 
in  a  while  you'd  glimpse  the  tiny  figure  of  a 
judge  alerted  at  his  station  down  below. 

Then  it  happened.  Over  all  the  yelling: 
"That's  my  Shinbone!"  .  .  .  "There  goes 
Honey  Dew!"  .  .  .  "Baby  Butch,  get  in  there 

and  "  over  all  the  clamor,  a  new  voice 

soared  from  out  the  trees.  It  was  close  up  on 
Flying  Jesse,  seeking  to  lake  the  track  away 
from  him;  and  it's  my  guess  that  there  was 
only  one  soul  in  our  throng  who  reckoned  he 
could  do  it. 

Face  after  face  was  turned  toward  Spring- 
field Davis.  The  outcry  died  along  that  clay- 
bani<,  and  in  a  few  more  seconds  all  you'd 
hear  was  owk  and  chop  and  squall  amid  the 
hazy  timber  out  beyond.  Surmounted  by  an 
angel  solo  at  the  front. 

Spring  fought  to  climb  from  out  that  can- 
vas folding  chair,  and  I  stepped  close  to  help, 
for  he  was  firm-intentioned  on  his  rising. 

"Spring!"  came  Ed  Armstrong's  fat  ac- 
cusing voice.  "Brother,  you  never  entered 
her,  and  yet  she's  running." 

And  others  yelled,  "He  couldn't  enter  her ! 
He  couldn't  enter  Little  Lady,  because  she 
won  three  years  ago.  But  that's  her,  up  there 
on  top,  right  next  to  Flying  Jesse!" 

Spring  davis  whispered,  "Someone  let  her 
out.  I  had  her  locked  up,  safe  at  home.  But 
that's  her."  He  tried  to  strengthen  his  old 
tone,  and  make  a  peace  with  everyone.  "I 

tell  you,  it's  an  accident.  If  Benjy  But 

no,  he  wasn't  there.  She  must  have  bur- 
rowed  " 

"She's  got  it ! "  Reverend  Mont  Adair  was 
bellowing.  "She's  grabbed  the  track.  She's 
took  it  clean  away  from  Flying  Jesse!" 

So  it  sounded,  and  at  first  I  made  no 
doubt,  no  more  than  anybody  else.  The  voice 
of  Little  Lady,  sure  enough—the  voice  of 
Bugle  Ann— the  same  as  blew  forever.  A 
trumpet  blast  which  seemed  to  grow  from 
out  dark  earth  where  acorns  mildewed,  and 
maybe  where  neglected  buckskin  hunters 
stirred  and  heard  within  the  soil. 

But  then  I  looked  at  Camden,  trying  to 
get  up,  and  so  I  took  her  arm  and  so  she 


stood.  Spring  gazed,  saw  the  water  rm 
on  her  cheek.  He  couldn't  well  believe  ^ 
And  yet,  and  yet   ' 

"Honey,"  he  whispered,  "isn't  that] 
Lady?  Seems  I  can  hear  her,  clear  up  0:1 
heap.  How  did  she  "  j 

The  others  heard  and  saw,  and  thea  I 
came  over  them.  It  couldn't  be,  yet  m 
was:  that  scraggly  high-arched  thing  j 
led  upon  her  leash,  and  signed  as  y\ 
Bristles. 

Uncle  punch  lancey  spoke  the  trm 
all.  "Gentlemen! "  For  once  he  had  attei) 
paid  him  even  as  he  thought  that  h 
served.  "And  ladies!  Number  Seventeer 
one  which  Camden  entered.  I  take  it  y( 
recall  how  Little  Lady  got  enticed  by  a 
tramp  who  come  by,  back  two  years  ag( 
summer." 

Old  tramp  or  not,  his  offspring  chi 
himself  against  that  fox.  He  didn't  sc 
hounds— too  many  good  dogs  wading  in 
they  were  tightly  packed  in  speed  and 
ing.  But  Little  Bristles  just  the  same 
throwing  dirt  against  the  faces  of  the 
who  followed. 

It  was  pathetic,  for  the  bunch  which  tr 
with  Music  Boss  and  Amy  McPherson 
the  rest,  progressing  up  the  creek  and  1 
were  doomed  to  barest  recognition  exce^ 
what  their  owners  gave  them. 

It  was  almost  like  the  fox  which  F' 
Jesse  took  at  first  (and  Little  Bristles 
away  from  him)  could  understand  the 
was  helping  history.  He  cut  to  right, ; 
right  again,  he  crossed  the  Penny  Bn 
and  right  again ;  that  brought  him  fairh.- 
derneath  the  claybank.  Dangerous  inc 
for  kids  were  hanging  at  the  edge,  to  try; 
see;  and  all  of  us  might  let  our  souls  a 
wallow  in  the  rare  delicious  sounds.  t 

I  looked  at  Spring.  His  deep  eyes  ] 
raw-rimmed,  and  how  they  stared  ,| 
caves  beneath  his  cotton  brows.  He  s 
lowed  fast,  his  fingers  shook;  I  feared  j 
have  a  stroke  before  the  hunting  ended,! 
it  had  bare  begun.  ! 

"That  voice,"  he  muttered  often,  kin 
catching  at  his  breath.  "  I  bred  her  first.^ 
Bugle  Ann.  And  Little  Lady  has  the  s; 
That  voice— it  does  breed  on.  And  cor 
through  the  matrons'  side." 

You'd  wonder  what  he  saw — the  bar 
at  Jeff  City,  maybe,  prison  bars  he  lay 
hind.  And  then  his  sound  belief  in  gh 
once  he  was  pardoned,  and  heard  the  \ 
again.  And  all  the  fires  he  had  sat  beside,: 
fConliniicit  on  Page  164} 


she  Veep  yo""p'afe  i^t 


So  much  depends  on  whether  your  charm  keeps      ^  ,^ 
on  working.  Freddy's  didn't.  Freddy  was  going     -^^^  ilr- 
great  at  half-past-eighf,  but  by 
giving  him  the  definite  brush 
blame  her?  No  girl  wants  to  put  up  with  a  case 
of  halitosis  (had  breath). 


hy  ten  his  girl  was  Sg^i 
off'.  And  who  could  .  j  " 


brush  you  ofFe^^ 


iyp 


LISTERINE  STOPS 
BAD  BREATH 

4  times  better  than  chlorophyll 


"Tlien  when  he  was  two  weeks  oUI 


LISTERINE  • .  .the  most  widely  used  antiseptic  in  the  world 


'     \    l>    I    I     S  •       II    It    M  I 


)     <•     I      II     N     \  I 


i  sincerely  believe  this  Is  llie  ^realesl  liali  -lM  aiily 
jiscoverj^  since  llie  periiiaiUMil  ua\e"- 


ISrir  im  isihlc  sffi  av  iirl 
^  krrjfs  any  hair-fht 
"  soflly  ill  filart' 

(ill  (lay  hm^ 

II' r<  "-  I  lie  liair-hfaiit  V  discovery 
you've  uislicd  lor  ;i  llioii-.iiid  limes.  A 
u;i\  to  keep  hair  so/iIy  and  prrfrrllY  in 
[tla<  <• — witlioiil  ;^reasiiiess  or  artificial 
"laeqiiered  look."  .Si(ri|ijv  press  the  hut- 
ton — and  the  niagie  mist  of  Helene  Curtis 
Spray  Net  keeps  your  liair  tlie  way  you 
-"  I  it  —  naturally  .  .  .  invisihiy  ...  all  day 
liiiii.'!  Won't  harm  hair  —  brushes  out 
iiislanliy.  Easier  to  apply  than  lipstick. 
Keeps  hair-do's  fresher  between  regular 
visits  to  the  beau-ty  parlor.  The  perfect 
answer  to  wispy,  straying  hair! 


NO  MORE  WISPY  ENDS  and  fly-away  strands! 
Now  career  girls  can  Spray-Net  their  hair  in  the 
morning  and  know  that  straggly  locks  won't  ruin 
their  appearance  even  on  busiest  days. 


PERFECT  HAIR 
CONTROL  WHEREVER 
YOU  NEED  IT! 


PERFECT  HAIR  CONTROL.  Almost  every 
woman  has  some  troublesome  place  where  curls 
just  won't  "stay  put."  Helene  Curtis  Spray  Net 
gives  invisible,  complete  control  wherever  you  need  it. 


THAT  ROMANTIC,  SMOOTHER  LOOK  is 

yours  all  evening  long  with  Spray  Net.  \ou  ll  find 
new  confidence  and  poise  when  hair  is  always  allur- 
ingly in  place.   Get  Helene  Curtis  Spray  Net  now. 


Spray  net 


FOREMOST  NAME  IN  HAIR  BEAUTY 


At  all  Drug  Stores,  Cosmetic  Counters  and  Beauty  Salons.  Regular  Size,  $1.25.  New  U  oz.  Economy  Size,  $2 


161 


\    I)    I  E 


II    O    M    E       J    ()    U    R    IN    A  L 


Can  ( really  drop  if?" 

'Go  ahead...ift  Boo nfon ware!" 


0 


t  / 
1/ 


Be  carefree 

i/vrfh  Boontonware 

GUARANTEED  AGAINST  BREAKAGE' 

Here's  how  to  make  the  dinnerware  discovery  of 
your  life!  Go  to  the  Boontonware  counter  in 
your  neighborhood  store.  Drop  a  dish  and  see 
for  yourself  its  amazing  durability! 

Smart  housewives  everywhere  end  worries 
about  chipped,  cracked  or  broken  dishes  with 
Boontonware.  It  takes  rugged  three-meal-a-day 
family  wear,  while  it  sets  such  a  smart  table 
you'll  be  proud  of  it  for  best.  Boontonware  is 
made  of  the  new  dinnerware  matei  ial  Melmac 
and  every  set  carries  a  written  guarantee 
against  breakage! 

Satiny-smooth,  Boontonware  comes  in  seven 
decorator  colors  —  Golden  Yellow,  Sea  Foam 
Green,  Stone  Gray,  Forest  Green,  Cranberry 
Red,  Powder  Blue,  Tawny  Buff.  Choose  from 
economical  starter  sets  and  complete  assortment 
of  matching  service  pieces. 

Look Ibr  (his  Boontonware  counter! 


^Frre  rf  pUi<i  iiif  lit  of  (iinf  dinhts 
broken  in  normal  houachold  uac 
for  one  year  from  date  of  purchase 

Product  op 

BOONTON  MOLDING  COMPANY, 

BOONTON,  N.  J, 


^^-^  MELMAC  dinnerware  at  its  finest! 


{Continued  from  Page  162) 

all  the  faces  vanished  now,  and  all  the  hounds 
who  loped  from  immemorial  time. 

It  wasn't  only  voice  to  wonder  at,  for  Lit- 
tle Bristles  had  that  track  enfolded  tight  be- 
neath his  tearing  paws,  and  so  he  kept  it.  He 
was  a  whirlwind  on  the  drive,  and  he  would 
stay. 

Lee  Maitland  still  made  offers  of  im- 
pressive bets,  but  his  vociferation  had  a  des- 
perate ring;  and  when  Roy  Lancey  covered 
twenty  dollars  Lee  just  put  the  rest  away. 

And  Camden,  weeping  still,  and  kneeling 
there  upon  that  brink,  twitching  her  fingers 
on  the  flap  of  her  limp  leather  bag.  I  reckoned 
that  she  heard  the  words  of  Benjy  once 
again,  defending  her  to  Uncle  Punch,  and 
speaking  of  his  wife  with  deference  which 
nobody  could  disregard. 

And  Benjy,  out  there,  standing  deep  in 
dry  leaves,  watching  with  pad  in  hand  when- 
ever either  pack  would  scorch  up  nigh  him. 
How  many  hours  when  he  lived  bereft,  nailed 
inside  the  cofiin  of  his  own  buUheadedness? 
How  many  lone  sad  sleepy  times,  when  he 
would  toss  in  bed,  and  have  delusions  through 
his  slumbers  of  the  magic  tongue  which  Da- 
vis dogs  were  giving? 

Oh,  it  was  a  childish  cussedness  we  had, 
for  sure,  when  we  abused  our  gifts.  When 
menfolks  let  their  women  do  the  heavy  work, 
the  while  they  snored,  pretending  to  have 
grippe  or  something — when  actually  they'd 
been  upon  the  hilltop  all  night  long.  When 
children  didn't  have  the  food  or  clothes  they 
should  and  could  have 
had— because  the  fathers 
spent  too  many  hours  in 
the  brush  with  Bessie  Bee 
or  Young  Regret,  instead 
of  cultivating  com. 

It  was  a  weakness,  like 
my  own  pa's  taste  for 
Forty-Rod,  or  Ed  Arm- 
strong'slove  forporkwhich 
loaded  him  with  fat  for 
all  his  daily  prayers.  But 
there  was  a  glory  human 
tongue  might  not  describe, 
when  people  measured  it  within  their  lives 
and  found  the  proper  balance.  It  must  have 
been  the  same  in  ages  past,  when  folks  first 
intertwined  with  hounds  away  back  some- 
where in  the  marshy  weeds. 

XIII 

The  fox  went  in  the  ground  more  early  than 
we  might  have  wished,  before  the  sun  had 
hit  the  hazel  bush.  Dogs  were  called.  My  fa- 
ther cussed,  and  said  no  fox  of  modern  limes 
would  give  our  dogs  the  hours  which  they 
used  to  give.  I  was  old  enough  now  to  half 
agree  with  him. 

A  bugle  came  from  Camden's  leather  bag, 
the  summons  blew,  and  Little  Bristles  panted 
in  as  he  was  bound  to  do  by  virtue  of  inher- 
itance, at  least  upon  his  mother's  side.  But 
it  was  Benjy's  hand  which  leashed  him  up, 
and  offered  him  in  turn  to  Camden,  and  she 
looked  her  gratitude.  Something  rare  and 
softening  possessed  those  two  by  now,  so  I 
gave  thanks.  We  saw  it  in  their  faces,  though 
they  never  bandied  words  around. 

Old  Spring  kept  begging,  "Let  me  look. 
Oh,  let  me  see  that  dog!" 

They  finally  fetched  up  Little  Bristles, 
burs  and  muddy  legs  and  slather,  and  people 
gathered  near.  Many  would  have  laughed, 
except  for  recognizing  a  queer  priestly  glow- 
ing in  the  face  of  that  old  man. 

He  muttered,  "  Here's  the  number  painted 
on  him.  Seventeen."  It  was  done  that  way  to 
help  the  judges. 

Spring  touched  the  rugged  coat,  and  said  a 
word  below  his  breath;  he  only  raised  his 
sight  when  Camden  came. 

"You  know,"  he  asked  her  and  the  rest  of 
ignorant  humanity,  "what  you've  got?" 

Low  sun  glimmered  on  that  scarf  she  wore, 
but  not  so  much  as  on  her  hair.  "  I  guess  you 
wouldn't  call  him"^she  tried  to  chuckle, 
but  a  smile  was  all  she  made,  and  choking 
sounds— "quality.  Except  his  voice.  Two  in 
the  litter  had  the  bugle  voice;  I  lost  the 
other  with  pneumonia.  So  I  trained  him.  Lit- 
tle Bristles." 

Springfield  Davis  said,  "That  night."  He 
spoke  as  if  no  other  persons  lived  around ;  yet 


131  Fl  fTI  El  FI  ri    1^1  JTT 

BRIEF  DESCRIPTION 
OF  A  GREAT  MAN 

"Wlien  I  met  liim,  I  was 
looking  down.  Wlien  I  left 
him,  I  was  looking  up." 


April,  I9J 


he  knew  that  they  were  there,  for  his  weak 
glance  went  skirmishing  among  the  throng, 
and  finding  Benjy  bright-eyed,  way  over  on 
the  end.  "Come  here,"  he  said,  and  Benj' 
came. 

"That  night,  when  I  walked  over  to  yoi 
place,  you  told  me  of  this  scrub  a-hangii 
close  to  Little  Lady.  Said  he  was  a  vag; 
bond.  I  tried  to  see  him,  but  it  was  nigh  oni 
black -dark  by  that  time.  Well,  Benjy.  Cani' 
den."  Still  paying  no  attention  to  tlie  rest  ol 
us,  though  we  were  lapping  every  word,  an( 
puzzled  half  to  death. 

"You  see,"  he  said,  "  I  thought  they  wen 
extinct.  All  bred  and  gone,  and  dead  an( 
gone.  You  called  him  '  Bristles '?  That's  what 
he  was.  A  Whitlock  Shaggy.  A  product  of  ai 
fine  a  stock  as  ever  ran." 

Long  ago,  said  Springfield  Davis.  Oh 
maybe  when  he  himself  was  a  boy.  A  mai 
named  Alf  Whitlock,  far  over  in  Kentucky-  ||u3 
he  sharpened  up  a  breed  of  hounds  fron 
Maryland.  All  shaggy-coated  and  glass 
eyed— not  pretty,  but  possessed  of  force  am 
staying  stuff.  They  grew  out  of  some  oli 
Irish  strain ;  and  some  of  them  had  hair  liki 
manes  to  hide  their  collars.  And,  said  Sprinj 
Davis,  they  were  the  fathers  of  the  Goodmam 
hounds,  and  even  showed  up  in  ancient  recJ 
ords  of  the  Walkers.  ' 

Some  of  them  were  brought  on.  farther 
west,  and  some  were  even  running  down  in 
Arkansas— long,  long  ago,  when  he  was 
young.  Spring  said.  He'd  seen  them  work  like 
demons,  and  they  had  a  voice  to  brag  about. 
But  they  were  all  ab-; 
sorbed  or  petered  out,  and' 
scarcely  any  but  the  oldest, 
hunters  could  know  ai 
Whitlock  when  they  saw! 
one— which  they  didn't' 
nowadays.  Younger  folks; 
would  never  even  recog-| 
nize  the  name.  ' 

So  that  was  Bristles, 
bred  self-determinedly  to 
Little  Lady;  and  Little 
Bristles  was  the  pick  of 
both.  And  where  that 
tattered  father  of  his  came  from,  we  could 
never  guess.  It  resembled  fairy  tales  of 
yore  (and  yet  as  solid  and  flavorable  a 
chunk  of  truth  as  you  could  bite) :  the  serv- 
ant boy  in  rags,  the  worn  wanderer  scorned 
at  castle  gates— and  all  the  time  he  was  a 
king  in  his  own  right,  if  folks  had  only 
known. 

Oh,  a  poor  hound  dog  could  never  own  a 
castle,  or  have  a  pile  of  chests  filled  up  with 
jewels  and  crowns  and  scepters.  But  he  could 
possess  a  thing  which  might  be  pondered  >m 
as  better  still:  a  line  of  ancestors  who'd  done 
their  feats,  and  all  as  stanch  as  knights  who 
went  to  gallop  in  the  Crusades. 

It  could  have  been,  we  all  considered, 
lineage  like  that  from  which  old  Bristles 
sprang.  Fresh  from  thickets  and  the  willows 
he'd  traced  his  keen  unerring  path,  and  found 
a  pen  wherein  the  horn-mouthed  marvel  of 
our  region  waited  him.  Maybe  if  there  is  a 
brown  god  of  wilderness  and  hunters,  him  il 
was  who  set  the  gate  ajar,  beyond  the  tiniest 
manipulation  of  Camden  Davis.  It  was  soim  - 
thing  to  be  decided  in  timber  where  the  foxes 

XIV 

In  best  official  manner  the  judges  were  as- 
sembled on  the  platform,  and  they  read  th(  ir 
tickets  out,  but  you  could  scarcely  hear  the 
words  of  Benjy  when  it  came  his  turn. 

First  in  Hunting,  Eight.  First  in  Speed  and 
Driving,  Seventeen.  First  in  Endurance,  Seven- 
teen. First  in  Voice,  Seventeen. 

Though  the  conclusion  was  foregone  be- 
fore they  reached  him.  and  after  that  too. 
Points  had  mounted  sky-high  for  Seventeen, 
and  the  noise  which  people  made  might  have  'i 
flabbergasted  wiser  hounds  than  Little  Bris-  ' 
ties.  He  lay  and  heaved  his  sides,  and  let  the 
children  finger  at  his  fuzzy  coat. 

The  jug  came  forth,  and  Uncle  Punch  he 
made  the  presentation;  but  guns  had  started  " 
up  before  he  rambled  on  his  speech.  You'd  ' 
hear  a  volley  and  a  bang,  and  then  the  dogs 
would  lift  their  voices,  and  the  kids  would 
yelp  in  glee  or  terror;  then  more  guns,  and 
women  holding  hands  across  their  ears.  I  felt 
(Coyilinued  on  Page  167) 


yoUR  GROCERS  MOW 


Golden  Cargo  —  the  wonderfully  deli- 
cious pocks  of  oil  DOLE  Pineopple  Prod- 
ucts. Bring  Howoii  to  your  toble  with  DOLE 
Pineopple  Slices,  Chunks,  Tidbits,  Crushed 
ond  Juice— they  re  all  so  very  good. 

"Ham  and  Eggs  Hawaiian"*  mokes 

smooth  sailing  ony  time  of  doy.  Pan-fry 
luscious  DOLE  Sliced  Pineapple  and  firm 
bananas  in  butter  or  margarine,  set  aside 
to  keep  warm.  Fry  eggs  sunny  side  up  in 
the  some  skillet,  juicy  horn  slices  in  a  sep- 
arate one.  Arrange  them  all— topping  the 
ham  with  pineapple  slices — on  a  big  plat- 
ter. Before  you  know  it,  this  round-the- 
clock  tre-3t  will  become  a  habit! 

Be  Sore  i1§  Hawaiian .  .8c  sun  iis'DOLE 

♦  From  "Trader  Vic's  Book  of  Food  and  Drink" 


A 


(Continued  from  Pane  lt>4} 
ly  eyes  grow  wet.  remembering  the  day 
hen  first  I  stood  up,  old  enough  to  fire 
lanks  there  at  the  Butternut. 
Cap  Hurley's  silver  band  shone  bright, 
"amden  stood  quiet-eyed  and  beautiful  when 
Jncle  Punch  took  his  crusty  fist  and  wrapped 
ler  fingers  round  the  handle  in  a  ceremony  of 
ward.  And,  "Take  a  drink,"  the  menfolks 
elled.  "Camden,  you  got  to  take  a  drink. 
I'ou've  won  the  Butternut!"  But  still  she 
tood  and  s.  |i;epzed  her  eyes  shut,  and  made 
is  if  to  run  ly. 

"I  can''.,  cried.  "I  couldn't  take  a 
Irink  of  It'.  uff.  And— the  jug's  so 

leavy  I  can  i  :  t.  Uncle  Punch."  she 

,aid  — "and  ah.  jsband's  in  the  crowd 
lomewhere.  I'll  asiv  lum  to  come  up  and  take 
he  drink  for  me." 

So  folks  pushed  Benjy  through  the  rows, 
ind  more  than  one  man  look  a  hard  swat  at 
lis  backside  for  his  waywardness. 

Then  all  who  wanted  to  drink  in  ceremony, 
joasting  the  hound  and  owner  who  had  won. 
ihey  formed  in  line.  I  stood  my  turn  and  had 
my  drink:  my  father  Cal  Royster  was  behind 
mc.  taking  longer  swallows  than  the  rest,  and 
I  could  never  gainsay  him  upon  this  day. 

I  looked  out  for  the  Davises.  but  they  had 
gone  by  now;  and  Little  Bristles  he  was  car- 
ried off  as  well.  Old  Spring  and  Mrs.  Davis— 
Benjy  and  Camden  had  toted  them  away, 
clean  over  to  the  Delbert  Royster  place ;  and 
that  was  related  to  what  my  brother  in- 
formed me  on  that  morning. 

Camden  had  halted  there  and  left  her 
baby  with  LaVonne.  The  child  was  waiting 
in  a  pen  out  on  the  porch,  and  long  LaVonne 


described  the  scene  that  dusky  evening  and 
beamed  to  tell  each  memory  of  it. 

There  they  came,  the  Davises,  a-driving  in 
at  last.  The  child  stood  sober,  holding  up 
against  the  play-pen  bars,  and  laughing  only 
when  he  saw  his  mother  and  felt  her  hands  on 
him  again. 

"Not  all  blood  quarrels  with  other  blood, 
you  see,"  said  Camden,  still  with  a  tiny  edge 
of  hurt  inside  her  voice. 

Benjy  said.  "Camden.  I'll  try  to  make  it 
up  to  you.  Wlial  do  we  call  him?" 

"Spring." 

Then  they  stood  silent.  Benjy  holding  up 
that  child  with  bright  black  eyes  so  like  his 
own.  and  watching  as  his  pa  traversed  the 
yard. 

Old  Spring  came  slowly;  he  was  edging 
ninety  in  this  year.  His  wife  moved  there, 
assisting  him;  and  she  was  only  fifty-nine, 
but  she  was  crying.  Her  face  was  like  a  little 
lantern  while  she  sought  a  first  glimpse  of 
that  grandchild  which  such  willfulness  had 
held  away  from  her. 

It  was  delight  to  recognize  the  way 
that  hound  voice  bred  itself  into  the  years 
a-coming.  For.  when  the  last  firm-spoken  old 
Confederate— who  was  Springfield  Davis— 
had  gone  his  way  among  the  cedar  trees,  the 
voices  of  the  kin  of  Bugle  Ann  would  still  go 
echoing.  Wisdom  of  the  Davis  kin  would 
breed  and  manage  them. 

And  Spring  could  rise  through  long  imag- 
ining, and  sally  forth  as  in  the  flesh.  Doubt- 
less we  would  hear  his  bugle  note  among  the 
crickets  and  the  berry  vines,  compelling 
hounds  to  come,  and  loving  them  forever.  So 
did  we  all.  the  end 


Th:ii:>-AOE  von  >TEKIIS 

(C'onliniieil  from  Page  35) 


volunteer  filed  health  charts  and  kept  an  eye 
on  the  older  children  waiting  for  their 
mothers.  Another  girl  came  in  half  an  hour 
early  every  week  to  help  get  the  supplies 
ready. 

Janet  especially  enjoyed  the  work  because 
"Mothers  ask  me  questions,  and  I  feel  / 
know  something  for  a  change."  Janet's 
mother,  who  holds  a  fu!'.-time  job,  read 
about  the  volunteer  program  in  a  newspaper 
and  encouraged  her  daughter  to  take  part. 
"Here's  a  good  way  to  get  started  on  your 
career,  Janet,"  she  said.  Janet  was  learning 
lots  of  new  things— how  to  take  tempera- 
tures, how  hot  a  bottle  should  be,  the  ne- 
cessity of  keeping  things  clean.  Important 
things  for  a  girl  who  wants  to  be  a  nurse. 

The  aides'  training  was 
helpful  to  many  girls  in 
their  other  vacation  activ- 
ities. A  slender,  serious 
fourteen-year-old  had 
complete  charge  of  her 
baby  brother  during  the 
summer  while  her  mother 
worked.  A  high-sch(K)l  sen- 
ior served  as  tray  girl  in  a 
hospital  three  days  a  week 
at  60  cents  an  hour. 
Nearly  all  did  baby-sitting 
used  their  earnings  to  pay  their  carfare  to 
and  from  the  clinic. 

It  was  well  worth  it,  they  agreed.  "  I  just 
love  babies  and  want  six  or  eight  of  my 
own,"  Irene,  a  tall  brunette,  said.  Irene 
learned  a  lot  about  baby  care  at  her  station 
because  the  doctor  frequently  invited  her 
into  his  office. 

"Come  on  in  here  and  watch,  Irene,"  he 
called  the  first  morning  she  reported  for 
duty.  He  was  examining  a  five-month-old 
patient. 

"Is  she  getting  enough  to  eat.  doctor?" 
the  mother  wondered. 

"  Well,  this  girl's  probably  ready  for  cereal 
now,"  the  dfKtor  said.  "She'll  splat  it  out  at 
first  like  this  pffffft!  But  be  patient  and 
pretty  soon  a  little  will  trickle  down  her 
throat  accidentally  and  she'll  say  to  herself, 
'Gosh,  this  is  pretty  g(X)d  stuff ! '  Once  you've 
got  her  going  on  cereal,  try  her  on  fruit," 
he  advised.  "Alx)ut  half  a  can  at  first.  But 
the  same  thing  will  happen  — pffffft!  It's  all 
new  to  her,  you  know." 


When  a  man  is  a  Christian 
even  his  cat  and  his  dog 
know  it. 

—JOSEPH  FORT  NEWTON: 

living  Every  Day 
(Horper  &  Bros.) 


-and  three  girls 


Clinic  hours  usually  are  9  to  11  .\M.  one 
day  a  week  at  the  various  stations.  As  many 
as  150  mothers  may  show  up  in  one  morning 
at  some  of  the  forty  clinics.  Every  mother  of 
a  new  baby  is  contacted  by  the  Health  De- 
partment—either by  post  card  or  a  visit 
from  a  public-health  nurse. 

Many  bring  their  infants  for  inoculations 
against  smallpox,  tetanus,  typhoid  and  diph- 
theria, each  given  a  month  apart  after  the 
baby  is  three  months  old.  Sick  babies  are 
referred  to  private  physicians  or  special 
clinics.  Mothers  frequently  consult  the  nurse 
about  how  to  bathe  the  baby,  what  to  do 
when  baby  cries  loo  much  or  sleeps  too 
much.  One  mother  was  afraid  her  baby's 
head  wasn't  shaped  right.  Another  thought 
her  baby  was  tongue-tied. 

The  high-school  volun- 
teer program  has  been  a 
dream  come  true  for  Marie 
Buckley,  the  Health  De- 
partment's director  of  ed- 
ucational   training,  who 
sparked  the  idea.  In  the 
past,  the  department  had 
used  a  few  adult  volunteers 
at  the  infanl-welfare  sta- 
tions. But  Miss  Buckley 
felt  that  youth  might  fit  into  the  program 
too.  She  talked  over  her  idea  with  the  peo- 
ple at  the  Chicago  Volunteer  Bureau.  They 
promised  to  take  ciiarge  of  recruiting  the 
girls.  The  plan  then  was  approved  by  Ger- 
trude Plotzke,  superintendent  of  nurses,  who 
scheduled  health  examinations  and  the  train- 
ing program.  Both,  it  was  decided,  could  be 
held  right  in  the  Health  Department's  cen- 
tral clinic.  > 

By  actual  count,  the  majority  of  the 
infant-welfare  aides  were  serious  about 
nursing. 

"I'm  going  to  Cook  County  School  of 
Nursing,"  a  determined  Southsider  said. 

"I'd  like  to  work  in  an  orphanage."  A 
chubby  freckle-faced  girl  was  speaking. 

Another  girl  planned  to  work  in  a  hospital. 
Many  others  wanted  to  teach. 

Secretary,  teacher,  mother- whatever  they 
want  to  do,  the  point  is  these  teen-agers  are 
willing  and  eager  to  learn,  says  Miss  Buckley. 
"And  with  future  mothers  like  this,  the  next 
generation  will  be  in  good  hands." 

THE  EM) 


YA  R  D  L  E 

a  language  of  loveliness 


To  express  the  gracious  charm 
and  poised  allure  of  fascinating 

women,  Yardley  has  created 
"Bond  Street"  . , .  a  truly  regal 
perfume  that  stirs  the  heart  as  surely 
as  ardent  words.  $3  to  $17.50* 


And  to  whisper  your  charm  in 
day-lit  hours,  this  same  delightful  fragrance 
in  lighter  version— "Bond  Street" 
toilet  water.  $1.75  and  $2.85* 

*all  prices  plus  tax. 


Let  "BOND  STREET"  speak  for  you! 


Yardley  products  for  America  are  created  in  England  and  finished  in  the  U.S.A. 
from  the  original  English  formulae,  combining  imported  and  domestic  ingredients. 
Yardley  of  London,  Inc.,  620  Fifth  Avenue,  N.Y.C. 


1,   A    I)    I    F,    S  '       no    M    K       .1    O    U    R    N   A  I. 


Api 


Perfech  dayf  -foi-  -flift  f>ark? 

Linger  later  if  you  like,  ma'am.  With  Minute  Rice  in  your  pantry, 
you  can  serve  a  scrumptious  supper  in  no  time! 

This  handy  rice  is  pre-cooked.  You  just  bring  Minute  Rice  to  a 
boil  and  turn  otT  the  heat.  Ten  minutes  later  it's  ready — every 
plump  grain  snowy  and  tender,  perfect  for  sure!  Serve  it  as  a 
vegetable,  make  glamorous  meals  with  leftovers.  Springtime,  any 
time — your  family's  sure  to  go  for  Minute  Rice. 


Stretch  the  leftovers  from  a  holiday  ham  into  an  exciting  tropical 
supper!  Just  prepare  1 '  .-j  cups  Minute  Rice  as  directed  on  package, 
adding  teaspoon  ground  cloves.  Let  stand  10  minutes;  mean- 
lightly  brown  lYi  cups  slivered  cooked  ham  and 
chopped  green  pepper  in  2  tablespoons  shortening.  Mix  I'/j  table- 
spoons cornstarch,  %  cup  water,  1/2  cup  pineapple  juice,  1 V2  table- 
spoons vinegar,  2  tablespoons  brown  sugar,  IVz  teaspoons  pre- 
pared mustard,  and  a  dash  of  pepper.  Add  to  ham;  cook  and  stir 
until  sauce  is  thick  and  transparent.  Add  V2  cup  pineapple  tidbits; 
heat.  Add  I  tablespoon  butter  to  rice.  Top  \vith  ham  in  sauce; 
garnish  with  parsley— and  hear  a  happy  "Aloha" from  4!  Only 
with  quick,  quick  Minute  Rice  can  you  make  this  treat  in  just 
20  minutes! 

Another  Pick  o'  the  Pantry  Supper— Eggs  a  la  King:  Prepare  P;{ 
cups  Minute  Rice  as  directed  on  package.  Heat  1  can  vegetable 
soup  with  1/2  c"up  milk.  Add  3  diced  hard-cooked  eggs.  Season  to 
taste.  Heal  thoroughly.  Serve  over  the  rice.  Serves  4. 


Minute 


for  pecfecir  rice 
ihe  quick  and  ee9/  way 


AllNUTE 


BRAND 


A  Product  of  General  Foods 


■7/ 

iiiiii  im/i  i  //in 


IVorhing  inolhvr  Ruth,  secretary,  (inti  llamld  (e<ille<l  Rosie  for  high  coloring)  "mostly  slay  home  evenings — polish  up  new  house  plnns.^ 


LUCKY  IN  LOYE 

Harold  and  Ruth  Young,  hammcrijig  out  a  home  in  Kansas  City,  Missouri 
follow  the  path  of  a  legendary  ancestor.  by  G.  .M.  \\  iiite 


You  lucky  people!' — that's  what  friends  say 
now  we've  got  this  plaee.  And  I  guess  we  are, 
even  considering  Ruth's  work,  my  \\ork.  living 
with  in-laws,  my  father's  breaking  his  l)aok,  and 
the  worst  year  of  our  married  lives  it  took  to 
huild  it— then  this  latest  thing,  an  assessment  for 
a  sewer  we  don't  need  thai  is  more  than  the  land 
is  worth.  Well,  we're  together,  there's  the  kids, 
we  do  have  this  house  and  the  mortgage  isn't  too 
big.  We're  both  working,  we're  all  healthy. 
Times  during  the  war  1  doubted  being  alive  even." 

It's  Rosie  Young  talking.  He  is  a  great-greal- 
great-grandson  of  the  pioneer  trail  blazer. 
Daniel  Boone.  Napoleon  Boone,  Rosie's  maternal 
grandfather,  settled  here  in  Missouri  more  than 
a  century  ago.  Rosie  and  his  wife,  Ruth,  built 
this  house  on  Boone  Boulevard  in  Kansas  City  on 
a  bil  ofCranilpa  Napoleon's  original  section.  It 


PHOTOGRAPHS   BY   JOSEPH   DI  PIETRO 


is  not  the  best  house  in  the  world — nor  is  it  in  the 
best  location.  But  it  is  t/icir  home.  They  built  it 
with  llieir  oNMi  liai  ids,  sweat  and  tears.  Rosie  props 
liis  feet  on  I  heir  coffee  table  while  he  speaks. 

But  tearing  down  an  old  house,  board  for 
board,  pulling  out  all  the  nails,  hauling  it  over 
here  bit  by  bit  in  a  two-w  heel  trailer  and  building 
a  house  practicallv  singlehanded.  like  we  did  — 


well,  1  don't  recommend  it  to  anybody.  ^  ou 
know,  I  /late  old  lumber.  I  hope  I  never  see  a 
piece  of  old  lumber  again." 

Rosie's  real  name  is  Harold  Benjamin,  but  no 
one  has  called  him  that  since  his  rosy  cheeks 
labeled  him  as  a  child.  He  is  thirty-tMO  now. 
Ruth  is  twentv-seven.  Their  children  are  Gail 
Ami.  the  blond  one,  who  is  seven,  and  Carolvn. 
''Sister,"  nearly  five.  The  little  white  pooch, 
asleep  there  on  the  floor,  is  called  Jerk.  He's  two. 
That  massive  green  divan  Rosie  is  sprawled  on 
Rutii  bought  with  money  she  earned  while  he 
was  overseas.  The  blond  piano  is  decades  old. 
Rosie  recently  bleached  and  refinished  it — a  hor- 
rible job.  he  says.  The  blond  television  is  almost 
new.  On  Monday  evenings,  Gail  and  Sister  go  to 
sleep  at  six  o'clock  on  the  promise  that  they  will 
be  awakened  at  eight  for  the  T  Love  Lucv  show — 


A  S600  farmhouse  p^o^•ided  lumber, 
.'lass,  nails  for  our  eishl-rnom  home." 


170 


Hfin  mMALim 

/I 


"Used  every  last  inch  of  wood,  and  saved 
the  nails."  Rosie  carted  dismantled  house 
in  a  homemade  trailer.  Once  an  ^irplane 
mechanic,  he  likes  carpenterinf;  better. 


".S.5000  spent— a  home  worth  .Viio.UUO." 
Loan  payments:  •?42.50  a  month  for 
15  years.  "Our  hard  work's  paying  off!" 

At  Station  KCMO,  Ruth,  secretary  in 
sales  department,  doubles  in  program 
planning,  writing,  is  paid  $180  a  month. 


^'Nursery  school  takes  Sister  for  the  day, 
Gail  after  school,  charges  §14  a  week." 
Rosie  calls  for  them  after  work  at  4:4S. 


'We  were  never  alone  .  .  .  first  came  the  war,  then  staying  Ir 
with  the  family.  Boone  Boulevard  is  home,  from  noiv  on/' 


and  they  are.  It  is  an  inexpensive  set  and  they 
are  having  trouble  with  it.  Ruth  wants  to  get  a 
better  one.  She  says: 

"We  are  tired  of  making  things  do.  We  used 
everything  from  that  old  house  hut  its  musty 
smell.  We  always  talked  about  maybe  we'd  find  a 
cache  of  money  in  the  place,  but  no  luck." 

"Clean  as  a  whistle,"  Rosie  says,  lighting  a 
cigarette  and  automatically  handing  it  to  Ruth. 
"We  planned  years  before  that  Ruth  would  go  to 
work  while  I  built  a  place.  I  never  did  any  car- 
pentering, but  I'd  been  around  it  a  lot.  So  my 
father,  he  knew  about  this  old  farmhouse  we 
could  buy  for  $600  and  tear  down.  Ruth  got  this 
job  at  the  warehouse  and  mom  would  look  after 
the  girls.  That  was  April  of  '49.  I  figured  to  have 
it  finished  in  six  months,  but — well,  let  Ruth  tell 
you.  She's  the  cause  of  it  all." 

"1  don't  know  where  to  start,"  Ruth  says, 
handing  back  his  cigarette. 

"Start  at  the  beginning,"  her  husband  tells  her. 


"There  isn't  really  any  beginning  to  building 
this  house." 

"There  isn't  any  end  to  it  either." 

Ruth  has  an  oblique  sense  of  humor  she  e# 
presses  with  only  the  faintest  upturn  at  the  cor- 
ners of  her  lips.  But  her  eyes  are  often  laughing 
as  she  recalls,  diffidently  now,  scenes  you  have 
no  doubt  were  once  terribly  serious — and  oc- 
casionally heartbreaking — for  two  kids  in  love. 

RUTH 

You  have  to  know  what  innocent  babes 
we  were  to  begin  with.  This  house  began  to  be 
built  when  I  first  met  Rosie  in  1941.  I  was  six- 
teen and  still  in  high  school.  We  lived  in  Coro- 
nado — the  little  island  off  San  Diego.  My  father 
is  a  ferryboat  captain. 

Rosie  came  to  San  Diego  in  1940  to  work  as  a 
mechanic  at  Consolidated  Aircraft.  One  of  my 
girl  friends  who  was  dating  a  friend  of  his  kept 

telling  me  I  ought  (Continued  on  Page  172) 


(I 


Shiny  MOW  So  a  week  girls  get  for  helping  in 
house  is  sphirgeil  in  Kiddy  Konier  of  siipiir- 
market  wlicn  family  shops  together  Friday. 


Kiilh  lakes  girls  lo  hallet  and  tap  class  Tues- 
days, coaches  them  as  a  lu)hl)y.  Iter  mother 
sang  on  radio  and  in  small  opera  company. 


"Not  much  time  for  social  life.  But  we 
go  out  on  New  Year's  Eve,  and  have  a 
'date"  on  anniversaries — just  us  two." 


Dance  lessons  for  girls  cost  .?80  a 
vear.  but  Ruth  savs.  "Gail  and  Sister 
will  be  better  adjusted  in  'precarious 
teens"   if  they  have  social  skills." 


HOWJMEmU  Lim 

/I 


''Both  of  us  breadivinning 
during  the  day,  ive  give 
over  evenings  to  the  youngsters.^ 


(Conlinued  from  Page  170}  tO  meet  him.  She 

said  he  was  cute.  So  I  agreed  to  a  blind  date 
and — well,  he  ivas  cute.  The  first  thing  I  noticed 
about  him  was  his  nose,  the  way  it  tips  up.  To  me 
he  was  a  man  of  the  world — he'd  graduated  from 
high  school.  And  I  loved  his  grand  sense  of  hu- 
mor right  away.  1  don't  know  what  we  did  that 
first  date — drove  around,  I  guess.  I  thought  he 
was  fine,  right  from  the  first. 

But  my  father  didn't  like  Rosie.  He  does  now, 
but  then  he  would  leave  the  house  if  he  knew 
Rosie  was  coming,  or  leave  the  room  if  he  came 
unexpectedly.  I  don't  know  what  he  thought 
Rosie  was  going  to  do  to  me — oh,  I  know  what  he 
thought,  but  he  never  said.  You  see,  Rosie  is  five 
years  older  than  I.  Even  he  kept  saying  he  was 
an  old  man — too  old  for  me.  One  time  he  said, 
"Here's  a  nickel — call  me  up  in  about  ten  years." 
He  was  back  the  next  week. 

We  dated  regularly  then.  He  always  had  to  get 
me  back  to  the  island  early  enough  at  night,  be- 
cause the  last  ferry  to  San  Diego  left  at  two  in 
the  morning.  He  missed  it  only  once.  That  was 
the  time  my  mother  came  out  in  her  nightgown 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  and  found  us  both 
sound  asleep  in  his  car — he  on  his  side  of  the 
seat  and  I  on  mine.  I  don't  know  how  that  hap- 
pened. Fortunately,  mother  is  broad-minded, 
also  trusting.  All  she  said  was,  "Tootsie,  wake 
up!" — when  1  was  born,  my  father  wanted  to 
name  me  Phoebe  and  my  mother  wanted  to  call 
me  Ruth,  so  she  did,  and  my  father  compromised 
by  calling  me  "Tootsie."  My  parents  still  call  me 
that,  though  I  hate  the  name  and  it  never  did  fit 
me.  But  it  is  better  than  Phoebe,  isn't  it? 

I  was  graduated  from  high  school,  took  a  short 
business  course,  and  got  a  civil-service  job  with 
the  Property  and  Supply  Division  at  the  naval 
base  on  North  Island.  Rosie  was  getting  deferred 
from  the  draft  because  of  his  defense  work.  Late 
in  1943  I  met  him  in  town  and  we  bought  my 
engagement  ring.  He  did  not  ask  my  father  if 
he  could  marry  me.  He       (Coniinued  on  Page  iso) 


" .  .  .  and  lived  happily  ever  after."  Gail  and  Sister,  when  they  wake, 
make  own  beds  before  school.  Ruth  cooks,  Rosie  helps  wash  dishes. 
Saturdays,  both  clean  house  (5  hours).  Laundry  waits  for  Sunday  A.M. 


Playing  by  ear,  on  German  violin  brought  home  as  a  GI  souvenir, 
relaxes  Rosie  after  job.  More  often  Youngs  watch  TV,  Ruth  "always, 
^     when  I  iron — 4  hours  fly."  Favorite  all-family  show:  I  Love  Lucy. 


I.   \   I)   I  I 


II     <i     M     I  1     ()     I      l(     N     \  I 


I  T.i 


From  experience  comes  faith 


Big  Brother's  stronger  arm  is  comforting  to  clutch  wlien 
a  httle  man  starts  out  to  play  the  game.  Who's  afraid  of 
the  bigger  boys  .  .  .  and  the  unknown  hazards  up  ahead 
when  his  hand  is  held  by  experience? 

In  this  complex  world  of  ours,  we  must  learn  by  ex- 
perience to  place  our  faith  in  men  and  in  institutions  of 
proven  integrity  and  wisdom  and  honor. 


The  priceless  ingredient  of  every  product 
is  the  honor  and  integrity  of  its  rnaker. 


Squibb 


No  pharmaceuticals  have 
meant  more  to  the  preser\-a- 
tion  of  human  life  than  peni- 
cillin, streptomycin  and  other 
antibiotics.  From  their  early 
development  to  world-wide 
mass  production.  Squibb  lias 
been  in  the  forefront. 

Few  serx  ices  to  man  call  for 
greater  experience  and  trust 
tlian  tliat  of  the  phannaceu- 
jcal  manufacturer. 


174 


Here  are  the  menus  and  recipes  that  pulled  us  out  of  our  food  rut. 
As  a  working  mother,  I  thought  I  didn't  have  time  for  new  recipes  until  the  Journal 

came  up  with  these.  And  how  my  family  go  for  them!  •  By  RUTH  YOUNG 


FInIi  Pill<>tK  Broiled  with  Oranii<* 
Kroiit'fl  T4»mal»<>!«  witii  Wainnt  Halves 
I'oas 
SJilTa  wherries 

This  easy  supper  took  me  only  15  minutes  to 
fix.  Somehow,  1  never  thought  of  using  orange 
with  fish.  We  loved  it. 

FiKh  Fillvtit  nrniled  irith  Oranof:  Wipe 
1-1 3'2  pounds  fish  fillets  with  damp  cloth. 
Place  in  shallow  broiling  pan.  Mix  2  tablespoons 
orange  juice  with  3  tablespoons  melted  butter  or 
margarine.  Pour  '2  over  the  fish.  Sprinkle  with 

teaspoon  salt,  a  dash  of  pepper  and  ^  teaspoon 
grated  orange  rind.  Broil  2  minutes.  Pour  rest  of 
sauce  over  top.  Broil  3  minutes  more  until  fish  is 
cooked  through  and  flecked  with  brown.  Broil 
seasoned  and  buttered  tomato  halves  4  minutes 
along  with  fish.  If  you  wish,  put  buttered  walnut 
halves  on  top  in  last  minute  of  broiling  for 
crispy  texture.  Makes  4  servings. 

Corn-and-Alashroom  Ch<»wd«r 
Egg-!<ialad  Ring 
(  old  .^leals 
Siirprise  lee  Cream 


By  making  this  good  salad 
and  a  surprise  dessert  for 
the  girls  the  night  before, 
Rosie  put  the  meal  together 
in  a  very  few  minutes  while 
I  was  at  dancing  class  with 
the  girls.  Must  remember  this 
salad  for  a  company  snack! 


Corn-antl-Mimhroom  IJtmirdvr:  Saute  2 
strips  bacon  until  crisp  in  a  saucepan.  Remove 
bacon  and  crumble.  Cook  2  tablespoons  chopped 
onion  in  drippings  until  golden.  Add  1  No.  2'can 
cream-style  corn,  1  can  condensed  mushroom 
soup,  1*  2  cups  milk,  1  teaspoon  salt,  dash  of  pep- 
per. Simmer  10  minutes.  Add  bacon.  4  servings. 

Kaa-Salad  Itinv:  Shell  12  hard-cooked 
eggs.  Chop  medium  fine.  Add  1 3  cup  choppin! 
green  pepper,  3  tablespoons  diced  pi- 
miento,  M  cup  diced  celery,  2  table- 
spoons chopped  parsley  and  3  table- 
spoons minced  onion.  Mash  a  3-ounce 
package  cream  cheese.  Stir  in  Yi  cup  mayon- 
naise, 2  tablespoons  chili  sauce,  1?  2  teaspoons 
salt  and  a  dash  of  pepper.  Blend  both  mixtures. 
Serve  in  lettuce  cups  or  pat  into  a  ring  mold; 
chill  overnight.  Loosen  edges  with  spatula. 
Turn  out  on  chop  plate.  Serve  with  sliced 
cold  meats,  scallions  and  radishes.  Makes  4 
servings,  with  leftovers  for  sandwiches. 

Surprttiv  ifg  Crvam:  Soften  1  pint  vanilla 
ice  cream.  Stir  in  M  cup  semisweet-chocolate 
pieces.  Spoon  into  fluted-paper  baking  cups. 
Store  in  freezing  compartment  of  refrigerator. 
Garnish  with  a  cherry. 


Kansas  City  "Chieken** 
Parsley-Potato  Puff 
Raw  Ve£elahles 
Fresh  Pineaiiple  Slivers 


Manias  Citu  *^rhifkfn":  Cut  a  l"-thick 
slice  lean  pork  (H  pound)  and  a  l"-thick  slice 
lean  veal  (H  pound)  into  1*2"  pieces.  Thread 
meat  on  skewers,  alternately.  Season  with  H  tea- 
spoon salt,  H  teaspoon  paprika  and  H  teaspoon 
pepper.  Mix  %  cup  cracker  meal  with  a  pinch  of 
thyme  and  marjoram.  Mix  1  tablespoon  milk 
with  1  slightly  beaten  egg.  Roll  filled  skewers  in 
cracker  meal,  then  egg,  and  meal  again.  Brown 
in  H  cup  shortening.  Place  in  a  2-quart  casserole. 
Add  1^2  cups  milk.  Bake  covered  in  a  moderate 
oven,  3.50°  F.,  1  hour  and  15  minutes. 

Pariti«>v-Patato  Puff:  Beat  up  1  package 
defrosted  frozen  mashed  potatoes  with  a  fork. 
Add  1  beaten  egg,  H  teaspoon  salt,  1  tablespoon 
milk,  2  tablespoons  melted  butter  or  margarine, 
3  tablespoons  chopped  parsley.  Bake  30  minutes 
in  1-quart  casserole  at  350°  F.  4  servings. 

FrfMh  Pinfapplv  Slirfm:  Peel  a  fresh 
pineapple,  remove  eyes  and  core,  and  cut  into 
thin  slivers.  Sprinkle  with  2  tablespoons  sugar 
and  2  tablespoons  frozen  pineapple-juice  concen- 
trate. Chill.  Garnish  with  mint.  4  servings. 


175 


iiclpini^  mollici  try  Hciv  rcci[>cs  is  now  great  jtin  jor  Sis  (ind  Giiil.  II  <•  Inul  Kmisiis  I'.il  )     Cliii  Li'ii  Jiir 
<iir  Siiiuhi  y  dinner,  and,  if  Rosie  and  the  girls  have  their  u  ish.  we'll  he  hat  ing  it  for  man  y  Sundays  to 
'iiie.  Standing  on  their  help-stools.  Sis  peeled  the  ear  rots  for  the  relish  tra)  — Gail  rolled  the  "chicken"  in 
<■  crurnhs  as  fast  as  I  threaded  the  meat  on  the  skewers.  The  recipe  made  four  generous  servings. 


mrimim  iim 

A 


ltoil<>il  llt't'f  anil  ll«»rs«'-ltii<liNli  .Siiikm' 
l»arNl«'>--llii<l«T«'«l  X<'\v  I'olnltM'N 
W<><l!j<'.«i  »l°  I'abliuiiw 
liinsK'rbrt'ail 
V  it-itli  Ktftinot!  Kau<-<> 

The  boiled  beef  was  a  joy!  I  put  it  on  to  cook 
the  night  before  and  just  let  it  simmer  away  while 

1  ironed.  Although  it  takes  a  long  cooking  time, 
it  needs  little  preparation.  The  sauce  for  the  gin- 
gerbread was  delicious.  It's  amazing  what  one 
can  do  with  vanilla  ice  cream. 

Bnitvd  Ufff:  Buy  a  3-pound  piece  lean 
brisket  of  beef  or  4  pounds  short  ribs  of  beef. 
Short  ribs  are  usually  less  expensive,  but  ol 
course  have  bone.  Place  in  a  large  pan.  Cover 
with  water.  Add  1  bay  leaf,  1  peeled  whole  onion, 

2  teaspoons  salt  and  5  whole  peppercorns.  Cover. 
Simmer  over  low  heat  3^2  hours,  until  tender. 
Cool  in  the  broth  and  refrigerate  if  you  plan  to 
serve  it  the  next  day.  Skim  off  fal.  Reheat  beef  in 
broth.  The  broth  makes  a  good  soup  base,  or  you 
can  cook  potatoes  or  noodles  in  it.  4  servings. 

Unrttv-Uadish  Saurv:  Cook  1  teaspoon 
grated  onion  in  2  tablespoons  butter  or  mar- 
garine. Add  1  cup  evaporated  milk  and  U  cu]) 
water;  simmer  5  minutes.  Pour  onto  1  well- 
beaten  egg.  Return  to  saucepan.  Cook  slowly 
until   thickened,  stirring   constantly.   Add  o 


tablespoons  prepared  horse-radish,  Vi  tea- 
spoon salt  and  a  dash  of  pepper.  Serve  hot. 
Do  not  let  sauce  boil. 

Etianati  irvCream  Saurv:  Soften  1  pint 
vanilla  ice  cream.  Blend  in  1  beaten  egg.  3  s 
teaspoon  nutmeg  and  3-2  teaspoon  rum  extract. 
Whip  up  with  egg  beater.  Serve  cold  sauce  on  hot 
gingerbread  made  from  a  mix.  4  servings. 


Saui'rkriiiil  iiiiil  l-'rankf iiri «ts 
l>iiniporni<-k<>l  ltr<*nil  <  i-hT.v  ll«-nrtH 

Aliplo  llrtiwn  ll«'lt.v 

Sauerkraut  and  frankfurters  is  a  Youngs' 
natural.  We  love  those  "throw  everything  in  one 
pot"  recipes.  Caraway  seeds  gave  sauerkraut  an 
interesting  flavor,  new  to  us. 

Saufrkraut   tind  Franhlurtfrii: 

Place  the  contents  of  1  No.  2?  2  can 
sauerkraut  in  a  saucepan.  Add  1  me- 
dium apple,  chopped,  1  teaspoon  car- 
away seeds,  2  tablespoons  \'inegar 
and  '  2  teaspoon  salt,  dash  of  pepper, 
t  />  J<4  cup  water  and  8  frankfurters. 
^/  Heat  slowly  for  20  minutes.  Stir 
ientlv  twice  during  heating.  4  servings. 
Apph-  llrittrn  itftin:  Cut  4  slices 
dry  bread  into  cubes.  Toss  together  with 
'4  cup  melted  butter  or  margarine.  Peel, 
core  and  slice  4-6  apples  (about  1'2  pounds). 
Put  '  i  of  the  crumbs  in  the  bottom  of  a  shallow 
baking  dish;  cover  with  '2  the  sliced  apples. 
Sprinkle  with  )i  cup  brown  sugar,  's  teaspoon 
nutmeg,  's  teaspoon  cinnamon  and  '2  table- 
spoon lemon  juice.  Repeat  with  crumbs,  apple, 
sugar,  spices  and  lemon  juice.  Sprinkle  with  re- 
maining crumbs  and  '4  cup  water.  Bake  in  a  mod- 
erately hot  oven,  375°  F.,  for  40  minutes  or  until 
apples  are  tender.  Serve  with  top  milk.  4  servings. 


I  7<) 


1.    \   I)    I    I  s 


\i  i; 


I      li  N 


■tliril. 


This  is  the  way 
I  start  my  day- 
A  touch  of  Suave 
Makes  hair  obey. 


A  Yriend  in  need" 
After  shampoo! 
Relieves  dryness,  friz, 
Split  ends...  too  ! 


Hours  later 
Hair  still  just  so'.'.. 
And  doesn't  my  hair 
Gleam  and  glow  1 


And  look  how  soft 
Suave  leaves  my  hair 
No  oily  film 
Anywhere. 


A  precious  tip  to  mom  and  daughter! 
For  the  best  creme  rinse  try  Suave -in-water 


only 


IIOUID  50c-J 


CPE  ME  60; 


created  by 


makes  hair  obey 
new  soft  way 

because  only  Suave  contains 
miracle  Curtisol 

foremost  name  in  hair  beauty 


OIV  WITH  TIIK  l*AltTIK:S  — OFF  WITH  THE  POUI^l 


(Continued  from  Page  56) 


On«>-0*#  Iwli  i.unvhvun 

We  all  have  favorite  ways  of  entertaining. 
Mine  is  the  One-o'clock  Luncheon.  It  leaves 
an  entire  afternoon  for  cards  or  just  plain 
chatter.  My  favorite  menu  is: 

Chilled  Tomato  .Fiiiee 
Creamed  ('.hickeii  and  X  e^ielahles 
on  Toast  Trianfil<'s 
Relish  'l'ra\  ol'(U'l«Ty  Curls 
and  Kadish  l{os<-s 
As.sorted  l<'an<'>  Crackers  in  a  Basket 
Apric-ot  FhifV 

ciiiLLKi)  roM  v  ro  .11  ici: 

.Add  a  dash  of  \\  orceslershire  sauce  to  the 
tomato  juice.  au<l  a  sprij;  of  parsley  for  color. 
Serve  in  ()-ounce  glasses. 

CREAMED  CHICKEN  AND  VEGETABLES 
Simmer  2  cups  diced  cooked  chicken  (you 
may  save  this  from  your  Sunday  chicken, 
or  huy  2  pounds  of  chicken  lireasts),  1 
No.  2' 2  ff'i  mixed  vegelahle.i,  2  cups  skim 
milk.  I  tablespoon  hulfer  or  marf^ariue,  1 
teaspoon  sail,  dash  of  pepper,  and  paprika 
unlil  the  mixture  rea<-hes  Ixiiling  |)oiul. 
Thicken  slifiluly  with  I  tablespoon  corn- 
starch mixed  with  I  tablespoon  cold  water. 
V(  hen  ready  lo  serve,  heat  (piickly.  pour  over 
toasi  lrian;;lcs.  daintilv  arranjieil  on  luncheon- 
size  plates.  (>arnish  wilh 
strips  of  |)imieu I o  for  color. 
Serves  8.  ((!alorie  values  ^ 
are  a|)proximate — all  in- 
firedients  in  llie  above  tni\- 
lure  anionni  lo:  chic  ken. 
37.'):  vei;elables.  milk. 
ITf):  butler  or  mar;;arine, 
110;  <-oruslarch,  '.VI:  lolal. 
1013.  \veraf;c  serving;  per 
person,  1.30  calories,  plus  1 
slici-  lliin  loast.  60  calo- 
ries:   lolal.    100  <  alories.) 


dainty.  The  jelly  shouldn't  scare  you  cal 
counters,  because  1  tablespoon  of  jelly 
calories)  will  decorate  at  least  4  sandwicf 
They  are  not  he-man  sandwiches,  but 
meant  for  a  ladies'  tea  only! 

EGG  DE  LUXE  SANDWICHES 

Mix  2  hard-cooked  eggs,  peeled  and  fin 
chopped,  2  tablespoons  parsley,  choppet 
tablespoons  pimiento,  chopped,  1  teaspj 
chives,  chopped,  '  o  teaspoon  salt  anddasli 
pepper  with  enough  prepared  mustard 
spread.  Spread  on  or  between  thin  slice;- 
buttered  bread,  either  white  or  whole  whei 


The  three  types  of  sandwiches  gi\' 
above— vegetable,  protein  and  sweet— sh 
satisfy  all  appetites.   (A  small  sandw 
is  50  calories— three  should  amply  satisf 

The  crisp  sugar  cookies  can  be  either  hon' 
made  or  packaged  ones.  The  tray  shoi 
have  at  least  four  different  kinds  for  variel 
and  eye  appeal.  A  small  crisp  cooky  contail 
40  calories,  so  if  you  have  eaten  three  sm  j 
sandwiches,  you  should  limit  yourself  to  I 
cookies.  You  may  drink  all  the  tea  you  cal 
for— with  saccharin  or  lemon  slices.  Totj 
calories  for  the  tea— 230.  \ 


I 


AI'KIC<  > 

Simmer  I  '  ■>  cu 
apricots  in  wale 


III  II 


There  are  two  kinds  of  dis- 
content in  this  world:  The 
discontent  that  works,  and 
the  discontent  that  wrings 
its  hands.  The  first  gets 
what  it  wants,  and  the  sec- 
ond loses  what  it  had. 
There  is  no  core  for  the 
first  but  success,  and  there 
is  no  cure  at  all  for  the  sec- 
ond. 


—  ELBERT  HUBBARD 


.lric<l 
L'cnlly 
unlil 


for  30  niiunles 
lender,  then  sweclcn  lo  lasle,  using  a  sugar 
subslilule.  I'lil  apricols  llirough  sieve.  (  There 
should  be  I  '  _)  cup  puree. )  Flavor  with  '  j  lea- 
spoon  almond  extract,  f  old  3  sliflly  bealcn 
egg  whiles  into  apricot  puree.  I'ile  high  in 
your  dainliesi  .sherbet  glasses.  1 1  gives  the 
illusion  of  big  servings  lo  please  bolh  ihi-  eye 
and  the  appetite.  Slivers  of  almond  or  a  few 
shreds  of  co<-onul  may  be  added  for  a  festive 
touch.  Serves  8;  120  calories  per  serving. 

(Total  calories  for  the  luncheon  is  around 
400.  And  do  you  realize  a  large  single  piece  of 
devil's-food  cake  with  thick  icing  can  ecjual 
this  much  or  more!) 

Smull  Informal  Tvas 

Small  informal  teas  are  our  rule  in  the 
West,  especially  when  an  out-of-town  guest 
is  expected  and  time  does  not  permit  indi- 
vidual visits.  Here  is  a  typical  menu: 

Trays  of  .Small  Assorted  Sandwiches 
Ci'isp  Siifiar  Co<iki<'s 
Tea  willi  I. colon  Slic<'S 

Soiii«*  <»!'  my  I'av4»ril«' Niin«lwifli 
I'illiiitfN  iir«': 

<;ih>I'I'ki)-cei,i;r^  swdw  iciiks 

(.hop  celery  hearts  very  linely  and  season 
with  salt,  first  spread  ihiii  slices  of  bread 
with  cr<-amed  butler  or  iniirgarine  and  then 
spread  on  the  linel)  chopped  celery. 

IKLI ,^  CIRCU  S 

Use  thin-sliced  while  bread,  ("ut  into  circles 
with  a  2"  culler.  Spread  wilb  a  thin  coal  of 
butter  or  margarine,  and  a  pastry  lubi" 

pipe  a  cream-<  heese  edge  around  circle  of 
bread.  Into  center  of  each,  place  a  small  bit 
of  jelly.  (Have  as  many  flavors  and  <-olors  of 
jelK  as  possible.)   These  are  very  small  anil 


Serrt'-YuurMvlf  I'urtfi 

Of  course  our  husbands  enjoy  compar 
and  friends  as  much  as  we  do.  so  I'll  give  yc 
a  sample  of  what  we  serve  to  our  friends  aft 
an  evening  of  TV,  card 
or  just  plain  visiting.  I  c£ 
it  a  Serve-Vourself  Parti 
In  small  homes  I  fin! 
this  works  out  either  as' 
buffet  or  kitchen-cantee 
style.  After  all,  it  is  f; 
from  formal.  The  men  wh 
shy  away  from  "tea-part 
sandwiches ' '  can  fix  then'  \ 
selves  sky-high  Dagwoodi  \ 
the  ladies  who  are  calori| 
conscious  can  fix  a  mor! 
restrained  sandwich  am 
have  just  as  much  fun- 
nobody  need  be  the  wiser 
When  I  entertain  in  thi  I 
mixed-company  manner, 
use  a  large  round  serving  tray  with  a  bow 
of  well-chilled  ham-and-pickle  spread  in  th( 
center.  Around  it  are  a  large  variety  o 
luncheon  meats,  two  or  three  kinds  of  thinlj' 
sliced  cheese,  crisp  lettuce  leaves,  mustarc 
and  mayonnaise  and  a  variety  of  bread.  This 
takes  care  of  the  most  ravenous  appetite.  ' 

Here  is  the  type  sandwich  I  fix  for  myself! 
I  slice  bread  (60  calories);  I  slice  luncheoit 
meat  (150  calories) ;  2  lettuce  leaves— this 
gives  it  a  falter  appearance  (8  calories);  and 
a  hint  of  mayonnaise  ( 10  calories).  Total  for 
sandwich,  228  calories.  , 
For  dessert  I  have  a  large  loaf  pan  of  gin- 
gerbread with  assorted  toppings— such  as  a 
bowl  of  whipped  cream  (for  the  slim-Jims 
only),  or  strained  applesauce  fiavored  with| 
red  cinnamon.  (I'll  bet  half  your  guests  will  1  , 
go  for  the  applesauce  topping.)  The  dieters j  '"^ 
should  have  a  2"  square  of  gingerbread  (200 1;  ilj 
calories)  with  1  tablespoon  of  applesauce  (17*  '  j; 
calorics).  You  may  drink  all  the  black  coffee 
you  can  hold. 

If  you  take  it  easy  at  the  " Serve- Yourself 
Party  "  you  can  get  by  on  less  than  450  calo- 
ries. That  is  quite  a  few,  but  as  I  have  said 
before  -and  I  think  it  bears  repeating— 
"  Don't  make  an  ordeal  of  dieting  or  you  will 
become  discoura.ged.  Plan  to  have  an  occa- 
sional treat." 

A  dessert  lunch  is  a  simple  way  to  have 
your  bridge  club  or  a  few  couples  in  for  an 
afternoon  or  evening.  It  also  gives  you  a 
chance  to  satisfy  your  sweet -tooth  without 
sacrifice  to  your  figure!  My  favorite  quickie 
for  this  is  Glorified  Angel  Cake  and  plenty  of 
hot  coffee. 

<;l()rified  angel  cake 

Drain  all  juice  (important)  from  2  small  cans 
water-pack  fruit  cocktail  (water-pack  pine- 


I.  \  I)  I  I, 


II   <»   \i  !•: 


.1   ()  I    li  ^ 


ll-over"  loveliness 
comes  from  the 


r  you,  the  master  blenders  of 
amberlain's  have  created  this 
ar,  golden  lotion...  to  give 
iir  skin  an  e.xciting  "all-over" 
'eliness  you've  never  known 
ore.  See  how  it  soothes  and 
•esses  your  hantls,  arms,  legs 
J  shoulders. .  .then  disappears 
e  mtigic.  The  \ery  first  time 
u  try  it,  you'll  know  what  we 
•an  when  wesay  Chamherhun's 
;he  lotion  with  the  irAvV /om<7(. 
y  it  ,roon  . .  .und  discover  why 
lamberlain's  is  the  fastest- 
ling  clear  lotion  in  America. 

clear  lotion 


for 
hands 
and 
skin 


apple  litl»ils  <  an  i»c  used  in  same  niannt  r). 
riniiic(liat<-ly  heforc  s<Tviii';  time,  beat  .{  <->;i; 
whites  until  still.  In  a  se[)arate  liowl  lieal  '  j 
cup  whippin;;  i  reani  until  still,  add  2  tahle- 
epoons  su>;ar;  fold  the  two  heaten  mixtures 
together  and  add  the  well-drained  fruit  e<.<  k- 
tail.  I*ile  it  li>;htly  over  slices  <>l  plain  anf;el- 
food  rake.  (  Janiish  with  a  maraschino  cherry. 
This  will  make  at  least  10  generous  serv- 
ings. Average  calories  lor  each  serving,  lili). 

This  is  a  llKht  dessert,  nice  to  serve  at  a 
late-afternoon  meeting  when  wives  still  have 
to  go  home  and  fix  dinner  for  their  husbands. 

Another  quickly  prepared  dessert  snack  is 
Cheese  Dreams.  The  men  go  for  these  even 
more  than  the  ladies.  They  look  attractive- 
taste  delectable.  Try  them  and  see!  Some 
preparation  can  be  done  several  hours  in  ad- 
vance. Then  cover  with  aluminum  foil  and 
last-minute  preparation  is  a  matter  of 
seconds. 

CHEESE  DREAMS 

I'or  each  Dream  place  }4  slice  American 
cheese,  thinly  sliced,  on  a  square  soda  cracker; 
top  with  '2  marshmallow .  (^over  Dreams 
with  aluminum  foil,  and  when  colTee  is  ready 
to  serve,  pop  them  under  your  hroiler  lor  2  or 
.3  minutes.  They  must  he  watched  very 
closely  as  the  marshniallows  brown  very  rap- 
idly. Serve  immediately  and  he  ready  foroh's 
and  ah  s!  Allow  about  .t  or  <>  for  each  man,  .3 
for  each  lady.  Clalorie  count  for  each  Dream 
is  4.S. 

Sunday  Bruneh 

A  Sunday  brunch  is  a  pleasant  way  for  the 
gang  to  get  together  for  rela.xation  after  a 
morning  of  golf  or  a  session  with  the  rod  and 
reel.  Our  favorite  menu  is  simple  and  easy  to 
prepare. 

Chilled  .luiees  (f)ran};e.  fJrapeCrnil 
and  Pineapple) 
Creole  Ekks  or  Baked  Efjps 

and  (  liickeii  Jjvers 
Toasl  (Vt  hite  an<l  IMelba  — 
with  Kutter  and  .|ell>) 
Cofl'e<'.  an<l  lots  of  it ! 

CREOLE  EGGS 
(porti<ins  for  each  eucst) 
For  each  guest,  beat  1  egg  until  light  and 
fluffy,  add  salt  and  pepper.  Add  2  tablespoons 
green  pepper,  linely  diced,  and  '  2  cup  canned 
tomatoes,  in  heavy  skillet  melt  I  teaspoon 
butter  or  margarine  for  each  egg,  add  egg 
mixture  and  r-ook  over  low  heat.  Stir  often 
with  fork  uiUil  egg  is  well  set.  but  not 
leather).  Serve  at  once. 

The  Baked  Eggs  and  Chicken  Livers  is  a 
delicious  egg  dish.  It  is  slightly  higher  in 
calorie  count,  but  don't  vVorry  about  il.  It  is 
high  in  proteins  and  satisfies  the  appetite 
quickly.  Protein  foods  also  open  up  the 
"drafts"  of  our  human  furnace  and  burn  up 
fatty  tissues. 

|{\KEI>  EGGS  WDCIIK.KEN  EH  ERS 

Brown  a  I -pound  package  chicken  livers  in 
small  amontit  of  butter  «»r  margarine.  II  they 
arc  large,  cut  into  two  pieces.  Heat  H  eggs  im- 
til  liglU  and  Irothv  .  season  w  ith  salt  and  pep- 
per (easv  on  the  salt).  I'oiir  into  large  casse- 
role, add  well-browned  livers  and  '2  cup 
skim  milk.  Cover  anil  bake  '.W  minutes  in 
oven  at  E.  These  are  very  tasty  (easy  on 

the  budget  too).  Serv es  6;  <  alories  per  aver- 
ip'c  serv  ing.  I  Ji". 

April  is  tlie  last  "R"  month  for  a  long, 
long  time,  so  how  afx>ut  one  more  Oyster 
Stew  SupfUT  for  the  crowd?  In  ever\'  group 
there  seem  to  be  two  or  tliree  wiio  just  aren't 
lovers  of  oysters.  To  keep  tiiem  hapi^y.  I  fix 
a  kettle  of  slowly  simmered  chili  soup.  A 
cornucopia  of  polished  fruit  (combine  pears, 
apples  and  oranges,  for  instance)  makes  a 
pretty  centerpiece  for  the  dining  table  and 
doubles  as  g(X)d  simple  dessert  after  a  soup 
supper.  A  trav  of  assorted  crisp  cookies  can 
be  set  on  for  those  with  an  extra-sweet  tooth. 
.Serve  plenty  of  steaming  coffee. 

With  the  above  supper  suggestion  goes  my 
written  guaranty:  A  good  time  will  he  had 
by  all.  TiiKK.M. 


here's  a  new  discovery 
in  support  plus  comfort 


Are  you  one  of  the  "forgotten  figure" 
types?  Have  you  tried  corset  after  corset,  and 
found  you  have  purchased  only  dissatisfaction 
and  discomfort? 

There's  a  discovery  ahead  for  you!  The  same 
discovery  that  thousands  of  women  like 
you  have  made  .  .  .  that  support  for  your  type  of 
figure  in  comfort  calls  for  more  than  just 
squeezing  flesh.  It  calls  for  the  scientific 
answer  that  CAMP  provides. 


Figure  probietns  are  no^ 
respecter  of  persons. 
CAMP  science  provides 
a  comfortable  answer 
for  either  the  moderote 
or  extreme  problems. 
Ask  for  Camp  supports  | 
at  better  stores  every-  I 
where.  $6.50to$1 5.00.  1 


/ 

//  /  f  ( 


Send  for  "New  fncU  About 
your   Figure   c">r<    /our  Corsef 
After  35".    Us  free 


S.  H.  CAMP  &  CO.,  Jackson,  Michigan 

Creators  of  Scientific  Supports  for  Daily  Wear  and  "iurgicol  Supporti  for  the  Medical  Profession 


Young 


•'Wanliiiff  to  do  thinffs — thut's  half  the  battle. 
And  irhen  ffou  irorle  on  it  ifourself,  home  means  more."  ' 
Mtosie  Younfi'ft  la  text  feat:  a  familff  room  in  house  he  bui 


IN  the  home  of  Ruth  and  Harold 
(Rosie)  Young,  a  sparkhng  family 
room  replaced  an  attic  .  .  .  eerie  and 
rough-timbered  to  start,  packing  boxes 
and  suitcases  stacked  the  floor. 

FRAMEWORK  FOR  A  FAMILY  ROOM 

"The  children  want  a  place  to  play," 
Ruth  began,  "and  I  need  room  to  sew, 
and  leave  work  spread  out."  Rosie 
picked  up:  "Storage  space — could  go 
under  the  eaves."  Simultaneously  they 

said,  "And  a  desk  "  Right  then  the 

family  room  had  taken  on  full  form: 
children's  corner,  sewing  center,  lots 
of  storage  and  an  office  at-home. 

Building  supplies  cost  Youngs  $324.80. 
Of  that,  $54.50  paid  for  flame-and- 
moisture-proof  wall  and  ceiling  insula- 
tion, $37.22  for  soundproofing  the 
floor.  Other  expenses:  iron  railing  at 
stair  well  cost  $37  installed;  electric 
wiring  and  light  fixtures  (recessed,  be- 
cause ceiling  is  low)  came  to  $131.10; 
paint  materials  were  $56.78;  linoleum  at 
79  a  square  yard  cost  $102.  Total 
for  all:  $651.68. 

"In  summer,  Kansas  City  sizzles," 
but  insulation,  under-eave  exhaust 
grilles  and  a  fan  will  help  keep  Youngs 


cool  even  on  scorchers.  "Used  ( r 
heads  on  that  wallboard,"  Rosie  sa  , 
meaning  it;  he  braced  60-pound  picsS 
in  place  with  head  and  hands,  wl  = 
Ruth  nailed.  "And  Gail  and  Sister  ( i 
play  freely  here.  Sound  is  softenei ' 
Rough  flooring  was  in — too  late  r 
sound-deadening  construction — so  Ro ; 
put  heavy  building  felt  over  it,  tl  i 
nailed  pressed-board  panels  on  t( . 
Having  laid  linoleum  in  kitchen  al 
bath,  he  chose  it  for  attic.  "For  begr 
ners,  tile  would  be  easier." 

Linoleum,  soft  gray  with  bars 
color,  harmonizes  with  gray-blue  wi 
and  woodwork.  Blue  furniture  is  . 
cented  by  white  and  bracing  yellc 
green  and  red. 

CHILDREN'S  CORNER 

As  gay  as  Gail  and  Sister's  o^ 
crayon  drawings:  "A  table  that's  a  b. 
rel,  and  four  nail-keg  chairs.  The  bar 
cost  $2.  We  sawed  it  down  and  Roi 
topped  it  with  a  36"  circle  of  ply  wo ' 
for  $6.16.  Kegs  were  $3,  and  extra  wo 
for  seats  and  backs  cost  $4.54. 
painted  the  table  blue — gave  it  a  n 
linoleum  work  top.  Each  little  keg  h| 
its  own  color:  red,  green,  yellow,  bit 


For  working-wife  Ruth,  who  sews  in  spare  time,  electric  cahii  j 
model  is  easiest  to  use.  Bud  get -mending  note:  reconditioni 
machine,  guaranteed  by  maker,  cost  $89.50,  half  price  of  new  or . 


ijilders  i 


I  lie  liiilcd  cusliions  arc  mailc  ol 
i  II  labric.'- 

I    I  :  HIS  AM)  IIKKS 

lu'ii  you  make  your  own  desk, 
J  iiil  to  your  noods."  Rosio  uiiilcd 
(  iiipaiiiled  chests  of  drawers  witli 
worlli  of  plywood.  One  H"  piece, 
iii  and  21"  wide,  made  the  main 
1  .  A  second,  4'  long,  is  a  step-up 
{or  hand  writing.  Along  th(>  low- 
pf  vping  desk,  a    l"-ln'gli  guard  ties 
init  together  in  design.  "Desks 
painted  semigloss  blue,  surface  is 
linoleum."    Under    the  step-up, 
l-eolored  baskets  holil  |)apers  and 
zines.  Two  white  ironing  chairs, 
■led  and  with  red  plastic  seats,  are 
ce-note  flourish. 

irS  SEWING  CKNTKK 

losie  couldn't  have  given  me  a 
5  wonderful  gift  than  my  tailor- 
3  sewing  closet.  It  holds  an  ironing 
d  upright,  has  a  hanger  l)ar  lor 
'  lents  I'm  w  orking  on,  and  shelves 
'  of  el(>ar  plastic  refrigerator  boxes 
lold  patterns,  fabric  and  findings, 
e  screwed  a  full-l(M)gth  mirror  to 
plain  door,  even  added  a  hanger  to 


(>)^  machine  90  years  old,  a  graceful 
Iter.  Gaiety  for  trai  el  poslers:  fabric  mats. 


enerous  storage  wall  between  family  room 
future  guest  room,  two  big  closets  open 
1  ways.  Sloped  cupboard  holds  hatboxes. 


Dimbtr  diiidnids  here,  toy  slwlies  an-  rrmmahli;  mi 
brackets.  Stinic  wall  contains  a  storage  bin.  easy  tn  firi  to. 

Iiiild  llie  ^li  .mi  iion.  \\  nh  pcnl.ihli- 
sewing  easel,  it's  all  I  (duM  cm  t  ask 
lor — all  ni  arm's  reach." 

MOKi;  III  AN  |.(H  U  WALLS 

Along  Youngs'  storage  wall,  housing 
two  big  closets  and  a  liatbox  cupboard, 
are  lively  decorative  touches.  "The 
w  hile  planter  is  our  old  sewing  machine, 
works  taken  out  and  stand  [)ainled.  In- 
sel,  with  a  flange  to  hold  it  in  place,  is 
made  of  $1.55  worth  of  galvanized 
metal — it  holds  a  garden  of  philoden- 
dron."  Above  are  colorful  railroad 
posters,  mounted  on  curtain  labric, 
backed  by  1 1-ply  cardboard.  Dry 
mounting  tissue,  SI. 03  at  a  photo 
store,  re<]uire<l  only  a  warm  iron  to  seal 
artwork  and  fabric.  Three  more  inviting 
Western  posters,  in  guides  over  stair 
well,  give  a  feeling  of  far  horizons  to 
the  room. 

Ruth's  denim  window  curtains  (she 
bought  10  yards  of  bonny  plaid  for  69 
cents  a  yard)  are  straight  and  easy  to 
care  for,  have  self  loops,  and  hang  on 
rods  painted  red  to  match  the  table  tops. 

It's  a  setting  so  comfortable,  so  filled 
with  singing  color.  Youngs  call  it  "in- 
surance for  good  family  living." 


Hiitt\mm  IMS 

A 


.  ,  .  a  ttnmge-tkn  wcmttrr 
viifs  Itumping  hraih. 


A  |i!alf(.riil  iill  wIici-Ih  Ih  RohIc  ^  iiijd^  .  .,1  Ki.ik  iiij.' 
Iinrlrrcuvr  ■.|<.ril><c  UH«-fi||.  ScoiiIit'h  IouiI  of  Imhi  « 
and  HiiilraitcH  piilU  niii  witli  i-iinr.  can  \>r  Morli-d  wlirn- 
tliiTr'H  |ilrnlv  III  liniilrodiM. 

ran  Ki-W  willi  rrlliiliiHr  la|ii\  F.ilsifT  illun  haitC- 
u\\l  .  .  .  la[M-  licrtis.  tlii  ti  Hiiii  li.  I  inally.         ttK  Xa\>e. 

"Helpiiif^  Htofii"  in  wliat 
T-year-oirl  Gail  (;alU  her  9*- 
liiKli.  (itic-stcp  Hliiiil.  .Stuniv 
[lilt  lif{lilwcj^h|,  ii's  ri>\rTfA 
liy  a  (•orriipitcd  •,!(•(»  trcad- 
lia(»p\  iiircntivc  for  a  >mall 
;;irl  \>lio  lik<-s  to  help  with 
ilisliesbut  can'l  reach  faiirel!.. 

(ilotlies  closr-ls  fiicasiire  up? 
Fjicli  slioiilij  Im-  2'  deep,  so 
.shoulders  of  clothes  uoiri  ruh  and  fray  against  wail. 
But  if  space  i-s  less,  a  pull-f)ul  iiracket  can  answer. 
With  it,  clothes  hang  parallel  to  door,  not  al  right 
anples  to  it. 

Another  wav  to  skip  sewing:  use  iron-on  mendinp 
tape  to  hem  sli[i  covers,  some  curtains. 

When  an  old  chair  needs  a  new  flair,  plastic  l)y  the 
yard  in  soft  or  hold  cohtr  is  easy  to  fit  or  attach — 
and.  best  of  all,  cleanahle  with  a  damp  rlntli. 


Youngs  made  a  perfect 
match  of  two  uneven  win- 
dows. How?  A  plant  shelf! 
Attached  under  higher 
window  at  same  level  as 
lower  sill,  it  paired  them 
to  the  eye.  Curtains  of 
equal  length  completed 
the  magic. 


Ruth  Young  listed  as  "pet 
housekeeping  peeve"" 

scrubbing  linoleum  floors  in  bath  and  kitchen,  until 
two  make-easv  ideas  saved  work  ...  a  handled  sponge 
mop  with  a  wTinging  de\ice,  wax  that  dried  with  a 
gleam  ami  no  need  for  polishing. 

At  an  open  -tairwav.  a  swinging  guardrail  clears  the 
way  for  furniture  moving.  Rosie  \oung"s  idea  of  a 
hinged  iron  railing  proved  most  accommodating  when 
douhle-?i/.e  desk  was  carried  upstairs. 


"Don't  forget  your  rub- 
bers. "  Hinged-top  "mud 
box""  promotes  order  on 
\  oungs"  back  porch,  even 
on  ApriKs  showeriest  days. 
Gad  and  Sister  keep  their 
galoshes  handily  stored  in 
it.  and  use  it  as  a  comfort- 


able seat 
them  on. 


when 


180 


LADIES 


II    O    M  K 


JOURNAL 


HARD  TO  BELIEVE 


An  all-purpose 

DETERGENT 

with  soft,  gentle 


Think  of  it!  All  the  cleansing  power  of 
any  other  leading  all-purpose  detergent .  . 
yet  as  kind  to  your  hands  and  clothes  as  the 
mildest  soap! 

That's  what  sensational  new,  white 
FELSO  gives  you  for  the  cleanest,  whitest, 
brightest  clothes  that  ever  came  out  of  your 
wash. 

Try  FELSO  in  your  washer.  See  the  dif- 
ference in  your  clothes!  Feel  the  difference 
on  your  hands.  You'll  love  those  soft, 
fragrant  FELSO  suds  for  dishwashing,  too. 


0«et  9°°° 


just  said,  "Will  you  marry  me 
ferred  another  six  months?" 


Hlf  KV  1^  LOVE 

(Conliniied  fyom  Pane  172) 
—if  I  get  de- 


ROSIE 

Surely  I  didn't  put  any  ifs  in  my  pro- 
posal? 

RUTH 

I  still  think  he  is  cute,  but  I  don't 
think  he  is  a  man  of  the  world  any  more.  I 
had  been  engaged  once  before,  and  when  I 
showed  my  father  Rosie's  ring,  he  said, 
"Huh— it's  just  like  the  one  Ralph  gave 
you ! "  But  his  attitude  toward  Rosie  changed 
after  that.  He  soon  learned  to  like  him  as 
much  as  I  did  and,  anyway,  we  were  going  to 
be  sensible  and  not  get  married  until  after  the 
war.  We  all  knew  that  Rosie's  deferment  was 
nc'  permanent,  that  he  would  have  to  go  into 
the  Army  sooner  or  later. 

Shortly  after  we  were  engaged  he  was  re- 
classified 1-A.  In  April  of  1944,  he  was  in- 
ducted. An  aircraft  mechanic  with  several 
years  of  experience, 
he  was  of  course  as- 
signed to  the  infan- 
try. Then  we  didn't 
know  what  would 
happen  and  I  didn't 
get  to  see  him  often 
and  it  was  terrible. 
By  November  it 
didn't  seem  sensible 
to  either  of  us  to  be 
sensible  any  more. 
He  was  ordered  to 
Fort  George  G. 
Meade,  near  Balti- 
more, presumably 
to  attend  a  radio 
school,  and  we 
thought  he  would 
have  perhaps  six 
months  more  before 
going  overseas.  We 
decided  to  get  mar- 
ried during  his  ten 
days'  leave.  We  were 
married  on  No- 
vember 4,  1944,  in 
Olathe,  Ivansas.  We 
chose  Olathe  be- 
cause you  don't 
have  to  wait  three 
days  after  applying 
for  a  license  and  it 
was  just  across  the 
river  from  Rosie's 
home  in  Kansas 
City. 

Ours  was  a  typi- 


again  for  a  long  time.  We  had  prepari 
selves  for  it,  byt  now  life  seemed  so  i 
there  it  was.  I  don't  believe  I  even  i 
not  then,  anyway.  I  packed  up  and  mil 
weary  way  back  to  my  parents'  h(f 
Coronado.  I  wrote  to  Rosie  every  da  | 
before  Christmas  I  learned  I  was  pre| 
That  was  something. 

ROSIE 

Couldn't   do  anything  but  sen 
my  dough.  It  was  a  big  troop  mo\ 
and  no  messages  were  permitted.  In 
ately  after  disembarking,  in  France, 
ordered  to  the  Fourth  Armored  Divisi( 
sent  to  the  front  as  a  replacement.  Two 
later  I  was  in  the  middle  of  the  so  I 
Battle  of  the  Bulge— I  slept  in  the  mi 
didn't  have  hot  chow  for  nearly  a  r 
That  was  some  Christmas  in  '44. 1  didn  i 
much  for  my  chances  of  ever  seeing 
again,  but  whenever  I  had  a  mom( 
think  of  it,  I  was  glad— very  glad— tl' 
were  marri 
letters  occasij 
caught  up  wil 
in  large  bunch] 
made  me  wal 
keep  living,  bil 
body  was  thil 
much  beyoncj 
to  keep  warni'T 
something  hill 
It  was  a  blanlf 


How  the  Youngs 

Spend  Their  Money 

Rosie's  wages,  .$102  weekly. 

two  weeks  vaeation  with- 

out pay .   .  . 

.$5100 

Ruth,  $180  monthly,  vaca- 

2160 

Totai  income    .   .  . 

$7260 

Yearly 

Home  improvements    .  .  . 

$  550 

750 

400 

1040 

510 

Insurance  (life  and  auto)  .  . 

180 

Taxes  (income,  city,  county. 

1060 

Utilities  (gas,  electricity. 

water,  telephone)  .... 

180 

Wife's  working  expense 

312 

728 

250 

400 

Recreation  (including  ciga- 

rettes, magazines  and 

200 

Medical  and  dental  .... 

100 

Charity  (I  nited  Fund, 

50 

School  expense  (lunches. 

supplies,  etc.)  

1.50 

400 

.17260 

cal  wartime  marriage,  I  suppose.  I  wore  my 
one  and  only  orchid  corsage,  a  green  suit 
and  a  black  velvet  hat.  I  borrowed  a  lace 
dickey  and  carried  a  blue  handkerchief  that 
belonged  to  my  mother.  White  gloves.  I  think 
my  hat  really  should  have  been  green,  not 
black,  but  my  suit  was  lovely.  1  still  have  it.  It 
hits  me  above  the  knees  now  because  I've 
grown  three  inches  taller  since  I  was  married. 
My  feet  have  grown  a  size  too.  I  have  only 
recently  stopped  growing.  I  think  there  must 
be  a  scientific  name  for  this  phenomenon— 
delayed  adolescence,  probably,  isn't  it? 

Rosie  and  I  had  a  few  days  together  with 
his  parents,  then  we  went  on  to  Baltimore, 
where  I  got  a  room  and  he  went  to  camp. 
After  a  few  days  he  was  sent  to  Camp  Shanks 
in  New  York,  a  port  of  embarkation,  and  we 
knew  probably  this  was  it— no  radio  school. 
We  arranged  to  meet  a  few  days  later  at  four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  in  a  drugstore  near 
Penn  Station  in  New  York  and  plan  what  to 
do  next. 

At  four  o'clock  I  was  at  the  drugstore,  eat- 
ing a  sandwich  very,  very  slowly.  I  was  there 
at  five  o'clock,  leafing  through  the  magazines. 
At  six  o'clock  I  was  having  a  long  conversa- 
tion with  the  man  at  the  tobacco  counter.  He 
told  me  all  about  his  family  and  was  real 
gloomy.  I  waited  four  hours— until  eight  — 
then  returned  to  Baltimore.  There  was  no 
message  from  Rosie,  but  he  had  wired  me  all 
his  money,  and  I  knew  I  wouldn't  see  him 


RUTH  w 

I  wrote  to  isi 
about  the  bal  j 
soon  as  I  kn(  it 
but  perhaps 
nately  he  did  n 
my  letter  unt.)iiii: 
worst  of  the  figBr 
was  over.  Hi|alp' 
ters  reached'nB' 
quite  regular  i 
believe  the  lo 
wait  between 
ters  was  about 
weeks.  When 
Ann  was  bor 
July  twenty-e  ti  i 
in  1945,  my  pa  itsi 
cabled  him  a  ' 
wrote  a  letter, 
pie  counted  mi 
on  us.  I  thou). 
was  very  funnj  n : 
had  been  ma  edj' 
exactly  275  i  ' 
That's  how  lo 
takes  to  have  a  baby,  isn't  it?)  He  go 
letter  first.  Shortly  after  that  I  got  a  bi 
of  my  letters  back  from  him— he  want(  v 
keep  them,  I  guess.  I  have  them  stored  a  y,|' 
but  I  think  I  should  destroy  them.  The  M 
will  have  a  time  pawing  through  them  if  ' 
find  them  a  few  years  from  now.  Amonj  r  i 
letters  was  one  strange  one,  addresse  » ' 
Rosie,  apparently  included  by  mistakiiln 
was  written  in  German— the  only  En  ;hr 
was  "  I  love  you  "  at  the  end.  I  wonderec  1 1 
should  do  anything  about  that,  and  i  ' 
what?  I  was  a  great  reader  of  Dorothy  i 
at  the  time.  Her  advice  to  a  correspond  i!  \ 
with  a  similar  problem  was  "just  ignore  1 
I  decided  to  ignore  it. 

ROSIE 

Dorothy    Dix    didn't    know   anyt  ;  j 
about  women.  That  letter  was  the  - 1 
ond  thing  Ruth  asked  me  about  after  I  iij 
home.  I  think  the  first  thing  was  where 
we  going  to  live  and  how  about  buildii 
house.  Well,  I  explained  about  that  lette  1; 
right.  There  we  were  at  the  border :)(' 
Czechoslovakia  

RUTH 

Could  I  please  just  hear  you  explain  ag; 
ROSIE 

I'm  going  to.  There  we  were  at  jie 
border  of   Czechoslovakia— that's  wl't 


I    \  11   I    r    s  ■      II   o  M   I       I   (t  I    11    \   \  I. 


I  he  Russians  and  evi-ryhody  slux)k 
ry  l)U(l(ly-l)ii<l(ly .  Uoiiuli  cliaiaLlers, 
ic,  lliouuli-  Al'U  r  all  the  shoolinu  was 
mI  evt-rylliin^;  secure,  I  was  with  a 
:  Russians  who  were  sh()win^^  us  Iheir 
'iir  had  some  sort  of  a  small  Tommy 
liked  over  to  the  door,  kicked  it  open 
(I  a  round  into  the  air.  That  sort  ol 
Well,  rinhl  olf  I  drew  ^nard  duty 
lour  hours  on,  twenty^four  oil.  We 
i.iinch  of  {lerinan  prisoners  to  ^^uard. 
Mcd  a  hatch  over  to  tlie  Russians  and 
u)t  a  few.  1  saw  Iheu'  ^ravi's,  I  stnm  Kot 
f  tiiat  Kuard  duly    I  was  tired  before  1 
so  wlu'ii  a  call  went  out  lor  some- 
no  could  type  to  be  company  clerk,  I 
my  hand  riulit  up.  I  can't  type  very 

I  HUTU 
V  \ou  type  your  lellers  to  tiial  (ierman 


HOSIE 

lie  I  was  company  clerk,  of  course 
ill  ihe  new  dope  iirsl,  so  when  here 
I  notice  say  inn  two  men  from  our  com- 
'uld  be  sent  to  the  American  llni- 
.it  Biarritz,  I  applied  before  anybody 
ml  not  it,  after  taking  some  tests.  l'\)r 
•i\lhs  I  w^enl  to  scIkx)1    applied  psy- 
\  ,  Ennlish  literature,  history    and  il 
1  i;ood  deal,  too.  excei")t  the  psychology 
echnical  and  dull,  not  "apiilied"  at  all. 
now,  at  this  school  ir  Biarritz  we  were 
fd  to  write  to  Europeans  and  maybe 
.'inethinn  about  the  various  languages 


RUTH 


•re  it  comes. 


ROSIE 

i  1  wrote  to  this  address  which  was 
IK  a  whole  list  of  addresses  of  Ger- 

people  I  didn't  know  people  nobody 
V,  for  that  matter— and  I  got  that  letter 
1  some  German  woman  back.  All  it  says 

there  in  German,  that  she  lived  on  a 
1  with  cows  and  chickens  and  things,  and 
last  sentence,  translated  in  full,  says: 
only  English  words  I  know  are  "I  love 
"  I  didn't  write  to  her  any  more.  She 
w  enough  English  and  I  didn't  know 
jgh  German. 

RUTH 

iosie  was  discharged  in  the  United 
tes  on  March  16,  1946,  and  for  a 
le  we  lived  with  my  parents.  There  \vere 
problems  of  reconciliation— as  far  as  our 
ings  for  each  other  were  concerned,  it  was 
t  as  though  he  had  never  been  away . 
Jut  we  wanted  a  place  of  our  own.  In  all 
:  married  life  we  have  never  lived  alone  to- 
.her.  First  in-laws,  then  the  children.  We 
^Kcd  about  building  a  house  and  even 
light  a  lot  near  San  Diego,  but  we  didn't 
re  the  money  to  build.  We  rented  a  Quon- 
for  $25  in  one  of  those  veterans'  housing 
)jects  and  tried  to  save  some  money.  Rosie 
s  working  as  an  aircraft  repairman  at  the 
val  Air  Station.  On  May  14,  1947,  Little 
ter— Carolyn— was  born. 
Rosie  was  fed  up  with  his  work  at  the 
ival  Air  Station  and  we  began  to  think 
out  Kansas  City,  where  we  had  this  lot, 
rt  of  the  legacy  left  to  Rosie's  mother  by 
andpa  Napoleon.  We  sold  the  San  Diego 
;  at  a  small  profit  and  with  what  we  had 
ved  we  had  $2000  in  cash,  a  secondhand 
ymouth  and  some  furniture.  Rosie  built  a 
liler— he  mixed  up  all  the  leftover  paint  w-e 
id  around  the  house  to  paint  it  with  and  it 
me  out  a  hideous  green.  We  made  our  long 
p-heavy  trek  across  Texas  in  a  blizzard, 
riving  slowly,  we  took  five  days  to  reach 
ansas  City. 

There  we  were  again  with  in-laws  and  no 
)me  of  our  own.  Our  plan  was  to  build  one 
lickly  and  cheaply.  Ten  days  after  our  ar- 
val  in  Kansas  City,  I  got  a  job  as  secretary 
1  a  warehouse  that  paid  $230  a  month.  I  was 
le  breadwinner  while  Rosie  built  o'lr  house. 
With  his  father  and  his  cousin,  Edwin 
oone,  to  help  him,  Rosie  expected  to  have 
le  house  finished  by  Christmas.  That  was 
jfore  we  struck  bedrock  about  four  feet  be- 


low the  surlaceoi  „ui  lot,  which  slowed  IhuiKs 
down.  The  really  serious  silbatk  caiiu- 
shortly  after  thai  Rome's  father  fell  Irom 
Ihe  roof  of  another  house,  fracturmn  hiHspiin- 
and  breakiiiK  an  ankle.  Work  on  our  hou>x 
came  to  a  slandslill.  Rosie  had  Iosim  nd  iiioii 
of  I  wo  months  I akiiin  care  of  his  lather's  lari-'.e 
garden.  Two  children  and  an  injured  man  in 
my  motiier-in-law's  home  was  not  exactly  a 
happy  picmc.  We  were  really  off  at  a  mad 
snail's  pace.  Kor  the  most  part,  I  was  loo 
busy  with  my  job  to  dwell  on  our  lroul)les. 
but  a  time  or  two  I  was  ready  to  pack  up  and 
go  home. 

The  money  we  started  to  build  with 
$ir)(X)  s(M)n  ran  out.  but  we  were  able  to 
lK)rrow  !i;2.'')(X)  from  a  friend  of  Rosie's  falln  r 
and  RosK'  plodded  on.  From  start  to  finish. 
Cousin  Ed  helped  a  k)t.  Rosie  would  have 
been  sunk  without  his  help.  One  of  tlie 
dirtiest  jobs  was  digging  the  hole  for  tiie 
seiJtic  tank  during  rainy  weather.  I  thought 
he  never  was  going  to  get  out  of  that  nuid- 
hole. 

'I  hen  one  time  when  I  was  hauling  bricks 
in  for  the  chimney  and  I  thought  he  was 
working  on  the  r(K)f.  I  heard  something  roll 
and  scrai)e  overhead  and  a  thud  as  it  hit  the 
ground.  1  rushed  out,  screaming,  lo  pick  up 
his  liody.  I  couldn't  (ind  il  anywhere. 
"Rosie!"  I  yelled.  "Where  are  you?" 
"Down  here,"  came  his  faint  reply.  "Down 
where?"  1  shouted  again.  "IX)wn  here- 
in the  basement,"  he  said.  "Oh,  down  llii  re! 
Rosie,  how  on  earth  did  you  fall  into  the 
basement?"  "  I  didn't  fall  in,"  he  yelled  back. 
"  I  have  always  been  in  the  basement." 

Things  were  pretty  dank  and  grim  around 
Thanksgiving.  That's  when  Rosie  shot  the 
while  turkey.  One  had  escaped  froni,  tlie 
nearby  jxiullry  market  and  was  r(X)sling  in  a 
tree  on  our  lot.  We  called  the  market  and 
they  said  they  were  tired  of  chasing  that 
turkey,  if  we  caught  il  w'e  could  have  il.  So 
Rosie  shot  it  with  a  .22  rifle  and  we  had  tur- 
key for  Thanksgiving  which  w-e  otherwise 
would  not  have  had.  Divine  providence, 
wasn't  it? 

ROSIE 

Every  lime  I  get  divine  providence,  it's  a 
white  turkey. 

RUTH 

Getting  the  basement  floor  in  was  quite 
a  job.  Rosie  and  Ed  had  already  leveled  six 
yards  of  ready-mixed  concrete,  which  did 
a  liule  more  than  half  the  basement.  The 
second  batch  of  six  yards  they  found  was  a 
bit  too  much  for  two  men,  especially  when 
they  took  time  out  to  build  a  form  for  the 
outside  steps.  When  I  came  over  in  the  late 
afternoon,  they  w^re  wading  around  pretty 
slowly  in  the  stuff,  which  was  piled  up  to 
their  knees  in  spots  getting  harder  by  the 
minute.  "Can't  you  do  somelliing  w^th  it?"  I 
asked.  They  were  furiously  building  forms 
for  the  steps.  "Don't  worry,"  Ed  said; 
"we'll  chisel  our  way  out  of  here  if  it  takes  all 
night."  It  almost  did. 

Well,  the  house  slowly— oh,  so  very 
slowly— materialized.  Finally  it  was  ready 
for  plastering.  Then  we  learned  that  we 
couldn't  get  the  furnace  we  had  ordered  for 
six  weeks,  and  without  heat  in  the  place 
plaster  would  freeze.  After  months  of  dilli- 
culties,  this  was  probably  our  most  frustrat- 
ing moment.  We  were  broke,  both  exhausted 
and  sick,  and  we  still  did  not  have  a  house. 
Living  with  even  the  best  of  in-laws  gets  try- 
ing under  such  conditions.  I  was  ready  to 
quit,  but  you  can't  quit.  I  felt,  during  this 
period,  about  as  Rosie  did  during  the  Battle 
of  the  Bulge.  It  was  a  blank. 

At  last,  in  February  of  1950,  we  moved  into 
the  house,  ready  or  not.  The  hardwood  floor- 
ing wasn't  completed.  The  kitchen  was  barely 
half  finished.  There  were  no  interior  doors,  no 
cabinets,  nothing  was  painted.  We  borrowed 
a  final  $250  from  my  parents  and  turned  the 
living  room  into  a  workshop.  Outside  and  in- 
side there  was  nothing  but  mud  or  dust,  but 
we  began  to  feel  better  right  away.  It  was  a 
mess  but  it  was  our  mess.  Such  as  it  was,  we 
had  our  house  and  soon  we  would  make  it  our 
home.  For  about  S5000,  plus  Rosie's  work, 
plus  almost  another  $1000  sewer  assessment 
this  year,  we  now  have  a  home  worth  perl-.:ins 


/  r/rf  7f//u'f/  /  //  />//  //fr 


I  m  (he  brighfesi  star  in  cinema  circles... 

the  leading  figure  among  filmland  j  dream  girls. 

With  Maidcnform's  Etude  bra  in  the  supporting  role, 

mine  is  the  bost-roundc"!  pjorfomo""^-  <■/'  ''k-  /i-nr 


Shown:  Moidenform  i  Etude*  in  white  bfoodclofh  or  nylon  lafftto. 

Irom  7  00  For  the  imoll  boomed  ligure  Etude  Minorl, 

Ihe  same  dream  styling  wilh  buill  in  podding  .  .  .  from  3.00. 


182 


I )   I  I 


II   (>  iM  i: 


.1   (>  u  R   \   \  I. 


put  yon)' 


top  bea  u  ty 


sparkling  lustre  finish 


more  shelf  space 


Put  up  an  extra  shelf  or  two  in  your 
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About  S1.G9  per  pair  at  most  hard-  ^jtf^^i 
ware,  department,  variety  stores.     ouoianieed  by 


FREE  "11  Ways  to 
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Write  for  yours  today. 


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$15,000.  Its  value  to  us  cannot  be  measured 
by  money.  We're  going  to  stay  here  forever. 

Rosic  liglits  another  cigarette  and  Ruth 
takes  il.  "I  can't  bear  to  see  him  have  any- 
thing lor  liimself  alone,"  she  explains,  not 
meaning  il. 

Home  it  is  now.  A  few  toys,  a  few  books 
scattered  around.  The  two  girls,  both  self- 
sullicient,  have  undressed  themselves  and 
gone  to  bed  without  a  murmur.  It's  the  end 
of  a  day.  The  little  girls  will  also  make  their 
own  beds  in  tlic  morning.  They  get  paid  a 
nickel  a  week. 

Tomorrow  night  they  will  have  their  bal- 
let-dancing lesson— cost,  $80  a  year.  "  I  know 


Next  Month 

Tloii  rdii  II  hniml-iK'ii  iiKirrlftili'sUiml 
the  firi'ssiiri'  <ij  loiiit  scpariitidiin, 
Jli'ftiuy.  rniiiii)ns? 

WIIKN  blond  Arline  Tiimiior- 
Miann  and  mariner  Marshall 
IrNirif;  married,  on  a  sim-da/zled 
dav  lasi  summer,  ihev  kneu  his  ai>- 
scn<'C  would  jea\  e  her  lonelv  durinf; 
most  of  ihe  firsl  crucial  year.  \n<l 
yet.  in  an  often  loo-(|niel  aparl- 
ment  in  Fresh  Moadows.  Long  Is- 
land. \rline  looks  forward  lo  iheir 
lime  toi;ellier  that  makes  up  for  all 
the  months  apart. 

OUR  FIRST  YEAR 

Itv  Bi'i  mird  I'cvtoiu  Jr. 

now  YOUNG  WIKKIC  V  LIVES 
in  the  Mav  .lol  UN^l. 


they  will  never  dance  professionally."  Ruth 
says,  "but  dancing  will  be  an  interest  for 
them  when  they  reach  the  precarious  teens. 
You  know,  girls  are  getting  married  so  yomis. 
these  days— without  any  idea  of  the  future.  I 
intend  to  insist  they  date  boys  their  own 
a.ge  -  but  that's  a  long  way  olf,  isn't  it?" 

Rosie  lights  another  cigarette.  "We're  get- 
ting old,"  he  says.  "Don't  do  much  any 
more." 

Ruth  works  as  a  secretary  at  radio  station 
KCMO.  Rosie  is  a  union  carpenter  now,  do- 
ing finish  trim  and  cabinetwork  at  $2.5,5  an 
hour,  as  well  as  making  constant  improve- 
ments on  their  house.  Tlie  children  are  cared 
for  during  the  day  by  a  w(jman  who  operates 
a  nursery  school.  Gail  Ann  is  in  the  second 
grade  and  doing  brilliantly.  Rosie  picks  the 
children  up  when  he  comes  home  from  work. 
In  disciplining  the  children,  Ruth  says  he  has 
the  last  word.  When  she  gels  home  nearly  an 
hour  later,  there  is  the  dinner  to  prepare  and 
housework  to  do.  Rosie  helps  with  the  dishes. 
Ruth  irons  a  bit  every  night.  It's  a  sixteen- 
hour  day.  Rosie  does  the  laundry  in  about 
forty-five  minutes  every  Sunday  morning. 

To  Rosie,  the  most  important  thing  that 
parents  can  give  their  children  is  a  feeling  of 
security— "to  know  that  their  hoine  is  a  real 
home  and  nobody  can  take  it  from  them." 
Ruth  puts  "love  and  companionship"  first. 

The  girls  go  to  the  Church  of  the  Nazarene 
Sunday  school  with  the  neighbor's  children. 
"It's  really  not  our  church,"  Rosie  says.  "I 
used  to  go  to  the  Presbyterian  when  I  was  a 
kid  and  Ruth's  parents  are  Quakers.  Now  we 
go  Christmas  and  Easter." 

"  In  the  summer  we  swim  and  picnic  to- 
gether—a movie  now  and  then,  and  a  small 
splurge  on  our  anniversary.  Guess  that's  all. 
I  read  a  lot." 

Rosie  is  yawning.  It  is  nearly  twelve— way 
past  bedtime. 

"Old  folks  at  home,"  Ruth  muses,  snuffing 
out  her  cigarette,  "but  tomorrow  I'm  a  work- 
ing girl  again.  I  love  it,  though."  She  gives 
Rosie  a  glance  that  says  "I  love  you,  too," 
and  he  returns  it. 

"Hon  "  Rosie  gets  up  and  stretches. 

"Yes?" 

"Just  please  don't  ask  me  to  make  any 
more  black  pianos  blond."  Tiir,  KM) 


smoking  odorl 


stop 
smoking 
odors 
before  they  run 
rings  around  you  !  , 
No  butts  about  it- 
air-Wick  kills  typicc 
indoor  odors  3  tims 
as  effectively 
as  other  deodorizelB 
tested  !  Get  air-Wick 
today. 


air-wick 


The  product  that  made 
chlorophyll  a  household  wo  1 
Makes  every  room  in 
your  home  clean-smellig 
and  pleasant. 


•alr-wick  is «  tr«dem<xx  o 

©19^3.  SEfMAN  BROTHERS, 


M  I 


I    <)  I 


I\IAItlllAi;i:  IS  .\OT  Foil  >IAe:ilitS 


(CiinliiiK,;!  from  I'liue  111) 


not  riKlil  now,  ptThaps,"  Cantly 
ill's  raduT  .  .  .  busy,  lie  has  ,  .  , 
liis  inmd," 
)Hl  you  shoiilil  tell  liiin.  dear,  if  any- 
/or  Koi's  wioiin!"  Mrs.  Ooochviii 
wlishly  over  lier  U-aciip.  "  I  always 
ijA  ylliiiiti  to  your  I'allicr    almost.  1 

Son^;  ano  vvlial  a  lircal  mistake  it  is  to 
ins  from  your  hushaiul."  Mrs.  (  IckhI- 
.'(1  icminiscendy  into  tiie  (ire.  "It 
xiH'Msive.  Keeping;  tiiiii^;s  to  myself 
nade  me  teel  martyred  and  tlieii  1 
li'iupi'red  aiul  then  1  had  to  ^o  out 

■  somelhiiij;  1  eoiiidn'l  alTord.  Like 
;)llar  shoes." 
1  don't  see  wiiy  buying 
linn,  yoii  can't  feel  saintly  and  sell- 
It  at  the  same  lime !  It  always  seemed 
me  to  feel  smu^  alx)ul  the  way  my 

ked  than  the  way  my  soul  felt.  .  .  . 
s  time  your  father  says  I'm  beiiin 

■  simply  won't  hell)  " 
I  10  it   was.   "Silly  about  wiiat?" 

.cj  isked  i)atiently. 

y,  jane  and  Christopher!  Jane  is  my 
untiter  and  I  love  her  dearly,  but  at 
iient  it's  like  having  a  blizzard  in  the 
(K)m.  Wiiat  is  there  al^out  weddings 
ikes  nirls  behave  like  peaiiens?" 
I\  was  startled.  "Did  1  behave  like  a 
.  mummy?" 

s  tea  is  delicious,"  said  Mrs.  Good- 
Dear  me,  my  feel  are  almost  too 
.  .  I'm  really  worried,  Candace.  It 
x"  just  like  .lane  to  issue  an  ultimatum 
isiopher.  and  you 

lie  British  don't  like         „     „  „ , 

urns  issued  by  other 

And  tiie  invitations 

en,uravod.  He  says 
n't  have  it  and  she 
le's  Koing  to." 
iin.n  to  what  ?  " 
hy,  keep  her  job 
ley 're  married,  dear ! 
Kht  you  knew.  .lane 
the  happii'st  mar- 
are  those  where  the  husband  and  wife 
vork." 

id  what,"  Candy  asked  somewhat 
"does  Jane  call  running  a  house  and 
children?" 

vactly.  Now  do  you  think  that  pos- 
.'  it  was  just  an  idea  and  your  father 
I  /  laughs  -  if  you  asked  them  both  out 
'  veek  end?  If  they  saw  you  and  Bill  and 

and  the  children  " 

ine  has  seen  Bill  and  me  for  years!" 

y  told  her. 

s.  Goodwin  sighed.  "Well.  I  think  yon 
bring  Jane  to  her  senses.  What  they 

leed  is  to  spend  some  time  in  an  atmos- 
just  like  this  —  Oh.  dear,  is  that  my 

Iready?  And  who  is  that  coming  up  the 
steps?" 

lolly  Campbell,"  Candy  reported.  "  Do 
eally  have  to  go?" 

s.  Goodwin,  peering  out  between  the 
"urtains,  said  that  she  didn't  care  at  all 
le  way  dear  Molly  was  looking.  "Her 
dear.  Blue.  Pinched." 

iDY,  helping  her  mother  on  with  her 
said  that  Molly  loathed  New  England 
;rs.  "They  make  her  cross." 
Jot  so  cross  as  Jane,  dear.  Nobody's 
been  that  cross  except  Gargantua. 
nin  B,  perhaps?  For  Molly,  I  mean.  In 
lay,"  Mrs.  Goodwin  murmured,  strug- 
with  her  rubbers,  "it  was  so  much 
—port  wine  with  an  egg  beaten  up  in  it. 
egg  did  something  or  other.  Well.  I'll 
:  Jane  to  you,  dear." 
Dlly's  usually  vivid  face  was,  indeed, 
what  dimmed.  She  refused  to  take  off 
oat  or  her  galoshes,  and  perched  like  a 
:empered  bird  on  the  arm  of  a  chair, 
lo,  I'm  not  coming  down  with  a  cold," 
aid.  "And  I  don't  want  to  sit  by  the  fire 
relax  and  I  don't  want  any  tea  and 
:'s  nothing  the  matter  with  me.  Don't 
3o!" 

.ndy  blinked  at  her  in  amazement,  and 
y  turned  a  little  pink. 


"I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  "I've  tx-.-ii  h'uuv. 
Adam's  head  off  for  the  last  ten  dayn.  Noth- 
ing seems  to  go  right  any  more." 

Candy  sighed.  "I  know.  Just  at  Ihi-  mo- 
mcnl  this  brave  new  world  we  have  on  our 
hands  seems  lo  be  a  solid  niagH  «)f  inHoluhlf 
problems.  At  least  mine  does." 

Molly  iiu|iiiic(l  languidly,  "Wliai 
lems?  " 
"W 


prol> 


Let  us  not  be  too  particu- 
lar. It  is  better  to  have  old 
secondhand  diamonds 
than  none  at  all. 

-MARK  TWAIN 

— ; J-,,  r-^  r-1  rn  0  r 


"Nothing, 


my  sister,  .jane,  at  the  moment" 

TiiK  mention  of  Jane  seemed  to  improve 
Molly's  circulation,  for  she  threw  o|km»  her 
coat  and  snapped  off  hc-r  scarf,  ".lane'"  she 
snorted.  "What  now?" 

Candy  expLimcd  the  situation,  and  Molly 
remarked  ireiu  hanlly  that  there  was  nothing 
the  matter  with  Jane  ilial  a  g<K)<l  Ix-aiing 
with  a  stick  of  kindling  wouldn't  cure. 

"No  doubt."  Candy  agreed,  ".And  you 
might  sugnesi  it  lo  Christopher.  Bui  mean- 
while I've  promised  mother  I'd  ask  them  out 
next  week  end.  I  don't  supix)se  you  and 
Adam  would  come  lo  supper  Sjilurday 
night?" 

Molly  got  up  and  paced  the  living-r(K)m 
fl(X)r.  Happing  her  gak)slies  irritably.  "Oh. 
I  supixise  so,"  she  said  ungraciously.  "  If  you 
think  it  would  help." 

"I'll  give  you  something  lordly,"  Candy 
promised.  "Like  roast  duck  and  crhiie  hrtilee, 
for  instance."  Molly  recoiled,  shuddering, 
"No?  What  would  you  suggest?" 

For  the  lirst  time,  Molly's  eyes  glowed 
with  enthusiasm.  "Stewed  prunes,"  she  said 
dreamily,  "and  shrimp 
K,^  paste." 

"You  are  in  a  peculiar 
mood,"  Candy  observed. 
To  her  horrified  astonish- 
ment, two  enormous  crys- 
tal tears  rose  in  Molly's 
eyes  and  slid  down  the 
sides  of  her  nose.  "Dar- 
ling,"Candy  said,  "I  didn't 
mean  anything!  What  ;.s' 
it?" 

Molly  gulped,  winding  her 
scarf  suicidally  around  her  neck.  "Not  a 
thing.  I  have  to  go  home,  (iood-by.  We'll 
see  you  on  Saturday." 

"Alxnit  seven,"  Candy  said  and  added 
helplessly,  "I  wish  you  wouldn't  go." 
But  Molly  liad  gone. 

Candy  carried  the  tray  into  the  pantry. 
Judging  from  the  sounds  of  battle  above,  it 
seemed  wise  to  wash  tlie  cups  and  saucers 
herself.  Let  Ellen  cope,  if  she  could  with 
David's  criminal  instincts  and  Sarah's  tem- 
perament. 

Standing  at  the  sink.  Candy  watched  the 
first  fat  Hakes  of  snow,  like  kittens'  paws, 
patting  the  windowpane.  She  felt,  suddenly, 
as  though  she  were  swimming  through  a 
large,  gluey  w-ave  of  black  loneliness.  Molly, 
the  one  person  who  was  always  ready  with 
lighthearted  sympathy  what  had  happened 
to  Molly?  .'\nd  those  carnations.  .  .  .  Last 
week  it  had  been  freesias  and  the  week  before 
a  box  of  tiny  sweetheart  roses,  and  all  with 
Greenall  Parker's  card.  Those  weekly  flowers 
weighed  as  heavily  on  her  heart  as  though 
Green  had  sent  her  a  handful  of  uncut 
emeralds  -and  the  fact  that  Bill  hadn't  even 
noticed  them  didn't,  somehow,  help.  .  .  .  She 
would  have  to  ,go  and  talk  to  David's  teacher, 
too— by  request.  And  something  would  have 
to  be  done  about  Sarah.  .And  Kllen.  .  .  .  .And 
now  Jane   

But  worst  of  all  was  the  fact  that  Bill  had 
receded  to  a  great  distance  where  he  lived 
alone,  encased  in  an  impenetrable  if  invisible 
wall. 

Maybe  he's  tired  of  me.  she  thought. 
Maybe  -maybe  he  iiishes  he'd  married  some- 
body else  who  would  manage  better  .  .  .  the 
house  and  the  children  and  everything. 

Bill's  key  clicked  in  the  lock.  He  came  into 
the  pantry  and  smiled  at  her,  rather  as 
though  he  were  across  the  street  and  .going  in 
the  opposite  direction.  "  Hi,  darling,"  he  said 
vaguely. 

"Hi,  dear!"  said  Candy,  in  a  brisk,  bright 
tone. 


beautiful  Blenback  Oil  Cloth 


s.- 

^^\'^<f 

Blrnbiirk  Oil  Clolh  it  ;i  ^ 

fabric,  <  (>lor-<  o.ilril  fur  lir.iuly,  wrar 

.mil  ( Ir.iii.iljiliiy.  I  lilt  ii  Aitrr  No.  S392.  ^ 


that  never  needs  laundering 


1 0^*0 


"1^ 


i  low's  this  for  a 
(hccrful  pattern?  Ask 
for  Rov.il  Rosf  .No.  21.33. 


costs  less  than  ^1*^  per  table 


Swfsh  —  and 

'C  '     ^      Blenback  Oil  Cloth  is 
)^      /J         bright  and  clean  ai;ain. 

.Ask  for  Tartan  No.  5395 


Where  can  you  get  so  much  color  and  design  at  so 
little  cost?  Where  else  such  pretty  co\ering  that's  so 
durable  and  needs  no  laundering?  Spilled  things 
wash  right  ofT  Hlcnback  Oil  CUoth.  No  spots  or  stains.  Months  of  like-new 
beauty  and  soil-free  wear.  Buy  it  by  the  yard  46  and  54  inches  wide  and 
in  ensembles  of  chair  pads  and  cushions,  scarfs  and  shelf  widths.  There's 
nothing  like  it  for  convenient  homemaking. 


'•/i     F  Do-it-yourself  Book  of  clever  ideas  to  make  home  more  colorful, 

'        '  Decorating  Ideas    li:'^*^''":  .^^i^'''"  '°  Columbus  Coated  Fabrics  Corp.. 
•  Dept.  LJ-4.1,  Columbus  16,  Ohio. 


OIL  CLOTH 

By  the  makers  of  Wall-Tex  fobric  wall  covering  and  Col-O-VIn  vinyl  plastics  by  the  yard 


184 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April, 


MRS.  EDWIN  BORDEN  WHITE,  JR., of  Washington,  D.C.,  active  member 
of  society  in  the  capital,  wears  her  gossamer-fine  blonde  hair  long  .  .  .  has  it 
arranged  in  deceptively  natural  style  by  the  inspired  Jeanpierre  in  New  York. 

JEANPIERRE  OF  PARIS 

society  hair  stylist  at  tlie  Savoy  Plaza,  uses 
"babying" Conti  sbampoo  for  divinely  soft  Hair-dos- 


He  says: 

"Conti  shampoo  is  superb  for  soft 
effects.  It  is  made  with  the  world's  ten- 
der est  ingredient  for  cleansing— pure 
olive  oil." 


HAIR  IS  PART  OF  YOUR  SKIN.  Treat  it  tenderly  as 
you  treat  the  skin  of  your  face— of  new-born  baby.  Basic  in- 
gredient of  Conti  shampoo  is  same  as  used  in  famed  Conti 
olive  oil  Castile  soap  esteemed  for  baby  skin  care.  Same  as 
used  in  beloved  Conti  Baby  Oil,  Conti  Baby  Powder.  Bril- 
liantly compounded  for  the  special  needs  of  hair,  Conti 
"babying"  shampoo  gets  in  and  out  of  hair  quickly,  washes 
out  completely.  Leaves  hair  just  right  for  obedient  hair-dos. 
Pure.  Safe.  Conti  cannot  cause  drying  of  hair  or  scalp. 


IMPORTED.  From  renowned  olive  presses 
of  sunny  Mediterranean  shores  comes  the 
pure  olive  oil  used  in  Conti  shampoo.  A 
natural  oil  for  your  hair's  natural  loveliness. 


QUICK. EASYONHAIR.  Conti's  fast  small- 
bubble  lather  gets  into  greasy  hair  freely. 
Slips  out  as  easily.  Speedy.  Tender.  Good  to 
hair.  Wash  hair  as  often  as  you  like  with 
"babying"  Conti  shampoo.  Economical.  Only 
49  cents,  regular  size.  89  cents  family  size. 


FAST  SMALL-BUBBLE  LATHER 
TELLS    YOU    CONTI     IS  SAFE 


Bill  Stared  at  her  blankly  for  several  sec- 
onds. Then  he  said,  "Snowing,"  and  went 
upstairs. 

The  half  hour  before  dinner  was  usually 
sacred  to  the  adventures  of  Silas  the  Cat, 
whose  life  and  times  Bill  had  been  reporting 
to  the  children  daily  for  months.  Tonight, 
however,  he  came  downstairs  again  at  once, 
changed  the  burned-out  bulb  in  the  hall- 
ceiling  light,  oiled  the  squeaky  hinge  on  the 
pantry  door  and  examined  the  thermostat 
sternly.  Candy  went  up  and  put  the  children 
to  bed. 

Silence  at  supper  was  broken  only  by 
Ellen's  sighs,  which  indicated  clearly  to 
anyone  with  a  teaspoonful  of  humanity  that 
her  feet,  as  she  plowed  to  and  from  the 
kitchen,  were  again  killing  her. 

For  some  time  after  supper  Bill  read  the 
evening  paper,  and  the  silence  continued  un- 
broken. Then  suddenly  he  spoke. 

"Candy?" 

She  looked  up  swiftly.  "Yes,  dear?" 

There  was  a  little  pause.  "Did  you  put 
antifreeze  in  the  car?" 

"Yes,  dear."  (Two  weeks  ago.  I  told  you  I 
had.)  "Bill?" 

"H'm?" 

"Jane  and  Christopher  are  coming  for  the 
week  end." 

"Fine,"  said  Bill  absently.  He  rattled  the 
paper. 

"Jane's  wedding  is  next  month." 
"M'm." 

"She  wants  to  go  on  working  afterward." 

There  was  another  slight  pause.  "Why 
not?"  said  Bill.  "Good  idea.  Women  ought 
to  be  trained  to  earn  their  livings." 

Candy  examined  him  anxiously.  "Me 
too?" 

He  dug  a  cigarette  out  of  a  battered 
package.  "Mightn't  be  a  bad  idea." 

Candy  tried  to  laugh.  "You  aren't  plan- 
ning to  die,  are  you,  darling?" 

He  lit  the  cigarette  very  carefully.  "It 
isn't  only  widows  who  have  to  work.  Hus- 
bands sometimes  .  .  .  need  help."  He  met  her 
frown  of  bewilderment  with  a  grin  which. 
Candy  felt,  was  intended  to  be  reassuring; 
it  failed.  "Financial  help,  I  mean,"  he  added, 
with  an  air  of  having  cleared  the  whole 
matter  up. 

Anxiety  shan>ened  Candy's  voice.  "  I  don't 
understand  at  all.  Bill.  What  are  you  trying 
to  say?" 

Bill  took  a  deep  breath.  "Well.  You  know 
Frank  Littlewood  at  the  office?  He  was  sent 
to  England  last  summer,  remember?  Well, 
nobody  took  over  his  job,  and  it  seemed 


obvious  to  me— at  least  it  seemed  possit 

I  mean,  it  seemed  to  me  " 

"That  you'd  get  his  job?"  Bill  nod 
"And  they're  not  giving  it  to  you?' 
shook  his  head.  "Are  they  giving  it  to  a 
one  else?"  Another  nod.  "But,  Bill,  is 
so  bad?" 

Mt  couldn't  possibly  be  worse,"  Bill 
evenly.  He  threw  his  cigarette  into  thejt 
"It  means  that  I  think  I  can  handle  LJi 
wood's  job— and  Mr.  Denstone  doesn'ilt 
means  that  I'm  stuck  where  I  am  for  lija 
little  cog  in  a  big  machine  .  .  .  unless,  k 
added  carefully,  "  I  have  the  courage  t  lo 
something  about  it." 

Courage  .  .  .  Candy's  heart  was  bejij 
uncomfortably  hard.  "What  can  yo\i 
about  it?" 

"Resign,"  said  Bill  grimly. 

"Oh,  Bill!  After  twelve  years  within 
company?  And  anyway,  Mr.  Denstone 
you— he  always  has."  j 

"Liking  a  man  and  believing  in  hinjn 
two  different  things.  He  hasn't  enough  |ti) 
in  my  abilities  to  give  me  a  chance 
bigger  job— so  I'll  just  have  to  go  and  id 
a  bigger  job  by  myself.  Only  it  may  nc  be 
bigger  just  at  first.  Candy.  It  may  meail 
he  looked  over  at  her,  and  his  mouth  via 
thin  straight  line— "it  may  mean  sta 
again  at  the  bottom." 

"That— that's  all  right,"  Candy  'lid 
steadily.  "If  you  think  it's  the  right  t 
to  do  " 

"  It's  the  only  thing  to  do,"  Bill  said, 
utter  finality. 

Candy  nodded,  matter-of-factly;  bu^ 
heart  felt  like  frozen  granite.  Beside  liis 
situation,  Jane,  Ellen,  Molly— even  fhe 
children— seemed  to  crumble  away  intc,he 
henheaded  worries  of  a  silly  woman,  jad 
there  was  nothing  she  dared  to  say ;  Bill  c  id 
so  easily  interpret  sympathy  as  appre  n- 
sion.  All  she  could  do  was  to  keep  her  wc  ies 
to  herself,  to  be  calm  and  cheerful -jut 
ah)ove  all  quiet.  , 

On  Thursday  there  was  a  heavy  snov 
and  again  on  Friday.  On  Saturday  mor 
Bill  left  early  for  the  office,  under  a  gra5|ky 
as  low  and  dirty  as  an  old  tent.  Candy, ;nl 
David  off  to  play  with  Michael  Tenrkt 
gave  Ellen  three  aspirins,  dusted  the  j|;sl 
room,  made  the  beds,  and  started  the  clmt 
brulee.  Sarah,  upon  being  deprived  oilier 


father's  discarded  razor  blades,  turned  pi 


and  beat  her  small  square  feet  on  the  1 3r 


Candy  clutched  at  her  own  temper 
applied  the  rules  in  that  book  on 


'Wo  roller-skate  keys!  What  kind  of  drugstore  is  this?" 


I. 


1)1  I 


I  h: 


Preferred 

because  it's 


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pHycholoKy  with  lit-r  let  lh  UhIu  IokcIIiit  She 
Iff!  Sarali  KfUliy  l(j  the  luirwry  and  nhiii  hi  r 
III.  1  lull  she  went  tu  lunHh  the  cUmt  hniUe 
U>  llie  acLoiiipanimiiil  of  Hiiriikn  limn  tin- 
nursery  like  tli()s<-  hoiii  a  noiiI  in  inirtialory 

At  one  o'cIik  K,  l>avi(l  came  home  covered 
wit!)  bl(j(xl. 

"(liory  hilta  (;o<l,  will  y«)u  look  at  him!" 
iiii.aMfd  i;il(ii  "And  iiie  with  a  ulill  neck!" 

"VV  Iial  hapiKiied  ?  ■  t'andy  inquired  with 
iron  calm. 

"Ah.  sure  I  musi  have  ^ot  a  <lralt  on  me 
back  —    "  Kllen  U'v^an,  mopping',  Ihivid. 

"iVlike  s.nd  he'd  si-en  a  llyiiiK  sjiticer  and 
lie  hadn't ."  1  )avi(l  explained  with  loud  an^er, 
'1  know  he  hadn't,  so  I  just  punched  him 
and  he  ^■,ot  mad  I  le's  /oomy.  Si  he  punched 
ine  hack.  On  tlu-  nose." 

"And  the  bin  ^;lass  ash  tray."  H;iid  l^llcn 
"  It  sliiJiM-d  out  of  me  hands." 

■  I  )i('  it  break  ?"  C  andy  asked  very  gently. 

"A  course  not ! "  I  )avid  w.is  scornful  "  Mm 
It  l)ie<l 

"Ah.  sure  it's  in  sinitliertcns."  sjiid  I-Jlen. 
with  nkKMuy  triumph.  "I  always  sjiid  them 
Klass  things  was  1(K)  dellykit  and  how  am  I 
to  wash  out  that  shirt  of  his  with  me  neck 
and  all  them  people  c<)min^;  toni^;lll?" 

Candy  washed  David's  shirt  and  shorts. 
Sarah,  released  from  tx)ndaKC  on  parole, 
made  a  hole  in  the  cake  of  soap  and  applied 
the  by-pr(Kluct  to  her  hair,  which  entailed 
an  immediale  shamixx). 

It  Ix'^an  to  snow  anain,  and  there  seemed 
lo  be  a  rather  lii^;h  wind. 

Tlie  laundry  man  appeared  without  the 
best  bath  towels.  A  box  of  enormous  rose- 
colored  camellias  came  from  (Ireenall  I'arker 
(allhounh  it  was  Saturday). 

David's  teacher,  whose  name  was,  inaj)- 
proprialely.  Miss  Annclo.  telephoned  to  say 
that  she  would  be  ^lad  to  see  Mrs.  Stewart 
at  any  lime  convenient  lo  Mrs.  Stewart 
except,  of  course,  thai  Wednesday  from  four 
lo  five  was  Miss  Angelo's  only  free  hour. 

^ARAH,  havin>;  been  forbidden  lo  touch 
anylhinj^  whatsoever,  attempted  lo  fill  a 
fountain  pen  on  ihe  living-room  rug  and  was 
again  incarcerated. 

The  rising  wind,  as  it  moaned  in  the 
chimneys,  drowned  out  Sarah's  vitupera- 
tions. Al  three  o'clock  a  taxi  slopped  al  the 
front  gale,  and  Jane  and  Christopher  strug- 
gled up  the  path. 

Jane,  in  a  beaver  coat,  with  snowflakes 
caught  in  her  russet  hair,  looked  ravishing, 
and  Christopher  seemed  in  unusually  high 
spirits. 

"I  say."  he  announced  gaily,  "the  radio 
says  we're  in  for  a  blizzard.  Candy.  I've  al- 
ways thought  it  would  be  jolly  good  fun  to 
be  snowbound  for  a  week  or  so!" 

"Oh.  great  fun!"  Candy  said.  "Do  come 
up  and  lake  off  your  things.  I've  put  you  in 
the  little  back  rcwm.  Christopher.  I  hop< 
you  don't  mind  having  a  sewing  machine  in 
with  you?" 

"Christopher  sews  beautifully."  said  Jane. 

"Wild  oats."  Christopher  added,  and 
laughed  heartily  until  he  met  his  fiancee's 
level  glance.  "Marvelous."  he  said  hastily. 
"Marvelous!  I  mean  the  room." 

By  four  o'clock  the  wind  was  lashing  the 
spruce  trees  along  the  drive.  By  five,  drifts 
covered  the  stone  wall  and  the  apple  tree 
was  nearly  invisible  behind  a  white,  whirling 
curtain.  The  telephone  rang. 

"Candy?"  It  was  Bill's  voice,  a  very  long 
way  off.  "I'm  afraid  we  can't  get  home.  No 
trains  running." 

"Oh,  Bill ! "  It  sounded  so  perilously  like  a 
wail  that  Candy  caught  herself.  She  must  be 
adult,  self-reliant,  serene.  "What  a  shame, 
darling!  Where  are  you  going  to  stay?" 

"Adam  is  with  me— we're  going  to  the 
University  Club.  Will  you  be  all  right?  Are 
Jane  and  Christopher  there?" 

"They're  here.  We'll  be  fine!" 

"Candy?  Listen,  there's  a  line  of  people 
waiting  for  this  phone.  Adam  w^ants  you  to 
call  Molly  and  tell  her  not  to  go  over  to  our 
house  this  evening.  He  doesn't  want  her 
driving  in  this  storm.  O.K.?  If  we're  not  out 
tomorrow.  I'll  see  you  Monday  night." 

"Don't  worry,  dear."  Candy  managed 
to  sound  almost  blithe.  "I'll  call  Molly. 
Good-by." 


"Made  up  I 

Magic  Touvh  „///;s/yr/v 'Natural  Beauty 


\owx  Magic  Touch  Cream  Make-up  anjsuhtie,  so  uriohtru^ive 
that  your  new,  wondrously  beautiful  cornpiexiori  looks  like 
your  very  own.  Makes  you  appear  a  person  with  lovely,  natural 
coloring  and  smooth,  flawless,  fine- textured  skin.  Hides  every 
litllf  ini[)erfection — with  never  a  hint  of  that  "made  up"  look. 

So  easy  to  put  on  — 
."^^m  Such  magic  blending  ! 

Rub  your  fmgertips  lightly  over  creamy  Magic  Touch. 
Then  with  gentle  strokes,  smooth  it  on  face  and  throat, 
beginning  with  forehead.  Replenish  the  cream  on  finger- 
tips as  needed.  No  clumsy  sponge  or  puff,  no  liquid  to  drip 
or  bottle  to  leak,  no  powder  to  spill. 


^    So  soft  on  your  skin — 

So  pleasant  to  use  ! 

Blends  like  magic,  without  streaking.  (Smoothing  with 
fingertips  gives  perfect  color-depth  control — longer  smoot^^ng 
lessens  color.)  Your  skin  will  feel  so  velvety  soft — took  so 
ntttumtly  youthful,  fresh  and  clear.  Magic  Touch  is  new. 
(Don't  confuse  with  any  other  cream  or  stick-type  make-up.) 


r 


^    Flawless  beauty — 

Natural-looking  loveliness ! 

Look  in  your  mirror!  Your  complexion  is  flawless,  allur- 
ing. For  a  dewv,  fresh  look,  use  Magic  Touch  uithout 
powder.  Powder  over  lightly  for  a  long-lasting,  smooth 
mat-finish.  (MagicTouch  is  neveroily or 
greasy  looking — even  without  powder.) 


43t  and  tl.OO 


.  bv  C  .4  .MPA\A 


186 


I,  \  I)   I   i;  s  "  no 


\i   i;     JO  I    I!   \   \  I. 


April,  1953 


2t/^)'f^<*A^  "^ft^iUeU  FOR  NEATER,  EASIER  LIVING 


FOR  YOUR  CUPBOARDS,  SHELVES,  DRAWERS 


SHELF  PAPER 

Add  new  beauty  to  your  cup- 
boards, pantry  shelves,  and  dresser 
drawers  this  year  with  gay  dust- 
shedding  KVP  shelf  paper.  Costs 
so  little.  Look  for  the  KVP  display 
in  houseware  and  paper  sections 
of  leading  stores. 


For  Soft  Pastel  Shades 
Select  GLAZED 

~'     AND  WHITE 

This  is  the  low-cost,  high- 
quality  paper.  Has  a  glazed,  hard- 
finished  surface  —  easy  to  dust. 
Colors  come  in  14"  and  20" 
width  rolls — -white  in  14",  20", 
28",  and  40"  width  rolls. 


r 


for  Gay,  Glossy  Surfaces 
Pick  ENAMELED 


Brighter,  stronger  colors  can  be  added  to  your  cup- 
boards when  you  make  your  selection  from  the 
Enameled  grade.  The  glossy  surface  is  even  easier  to 
dust.  Colors  come  in  14"  and  20"  width  rolls  —  white 
in  14",  20",  28",  and  40"  width  rolls. 


AND  WHITE 


For 

^r'xll'iant 
Washable 
Paper 

Choose  KALAFILM 

AMn  WHITF 


Kalafilm  is  the  long-wearing  shelf  paper  that  can  be  washed  with  a  damp  cloth.  You'll 
like  its  bold  brilliance  and  super-gloss  finish.  Colors  come  in  14"  and  20"  width  rolls  —  white 
in  14",  20",  28",  and  40"  width  rolls.  Look  for  the  KVP  trademark. 

T^€iflC^  IftcUct^  FOR  NEATER,  EASIER  LIVING 


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Mrs.  Hayward's 
Dusting  Paper  ends 
the  mess  of  oily 
dust  rags.  Impreg- 
nated with  a  fine 
polishing  oil  so 
you  can  dust  and 
polish  at  the  same 
time.  Try  it  —  see 
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your  furniture. 

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KALAMAZOO  VEGETABLE  PARCHMENT  CO. 

PARCHMENT,  KALAMAZOO,  MICHIGAN 


She  went  along  the  hall  to  the  sewing 
room,  where  Christopher  appeared  to  have 
adapted  himself  handsomely  to  prevailing 
conditions.  He  was  explaining  to  David  why 
Englishmen  wore  suspenders  rather  than  a 
belt,  and — further — why  they  referred  to 
them  as  braces  rather  than  suspenders. 
"Then  what  do  you  call  the  things  you  wear 
on  your  teeth  when  they  have  to  be  straight- 
ened?" David  demanded  skeptically.  Candy 
departed  for  the  guest  room. 

Here  she  found  that  Sarah  had  investi- 
gated the  contents  of  Jane's  pocketbook, 
discovering,  among  other  items,  a  small  case 
containing  three  indelible  lipsticks.  Jane  was 
fastidious:  it  was  important  to  her  that  her 
lipsticks  be  pointed.  The  lipsticks  were  no 
longer  pointed,  but  Jane's  remarks  were. 
Also,  Sarah  had  experimented  on  the  bed- 
spread, which  had  been  white. 

^iViTH  a  ruthlessness  that  startled  even 
herself,  Cr  ndy  swept  Sarah  out  of  the  guest 
room  and  installed  her  very  firmly  indeed 
in  her  own  small  bed.  "Now  you  stay  there ! " 
she  commanded  fiercely.  "Because  Frri  just 
about  ready  to  spank  you— hard!" 

Sarah,  cowering,  allowed  her  enormous 
black  eyes  to  fill  with  tears,  and  her  pink 
lower  lip  to  quiver  pileously. 

Candy  observed  her  coldly.  "And  don't 
think  I  don't  mean  it,"  she  added,  and  shut 
the  nursery  door  with  a  bang. 

At  the  foot  of  the  front  stairs,  Ellen 
greeted  her,  Cassandralike,  with  the  an- 
nouncement that  sure  the  electricity  would 
be  off  within  the  hour  the 
way  this  wind  was  coming, 
and  what  was  she  to  do 
about  cooking  dinner? 

"Cook  it  now,"  said 
Candy  icily.  "And  while 
you're  at  it,  make  an  ap- 
ple pie.  And  boil  a  dozen 
eggs.  And  make  a  potato 
salad.  For  tomorrow." 

"And  use  me  feet?" 
Ellen  inquired  in  a  tone  of 
utter  outrage. 

"Try  using  your  head," 
Candy  suggested  brutally, 
and  swept  into  the  living 
room.  A  happy  home,  for  Jane's  edification. 
Oh,  yes,  indeed.  //  /  had  a  job  in  an  office. 
Candy  thought,  /  coiildn'l  wail  to  gel  lo  my 
desk  in  the  morning,. 

A  noise  in  the  driveway  broke  sharply  into 
her  thoughts.  A  car  was  grinding  up  through 
the  snow;  it  jerked  to  a  halt,  and  as  she 
watched,  a  bundled  figure  emerged  from  it — 
Molly ! 

Candy  flew  to  the  front  door.  Snow  blew 
in  on  a  savage  blast;  it  took  both  of  them  to 
close  the  door.  "Are  you  all  right?"  Candy 
asked  breathlessly.  "I  was  just  going  to  call 
you  up  and  tell  you  not  to  come." 

Molly  stamped  her  galoshes  on  the  hall 
rug.  "Sorry,  dear — too  late!"  she  panted. 
"  I  knew  Adam  would  never  get  home  in 
this,  so  I  came  while  I  could  still  get  here. 
May  I  spend  the  night?" 

Suddenly  Candy  laughed— in  a  rather 
high-pitched  voice.  "You'll  have  to!  You 
can  sleep  in  Bill's  bed." 

"I  suppose  I'll  be  here  until  spring," 
Molly  said,  emerging  from  a  cocoon  of 
scarves  and  caps  and  coats.  "But  the  idea 
of  staying  alone  in  our  house  until  the  first 
crocuses  came  up  didn't  appeal  to  me  at 
all.  .  .  .  It's  not  that  I'm  afraid,"  she  added 
hastily.  "I  don't  think  even  the  Mustard 
Hill  Gang  will  be  out  in  this  weather— it's 
just  that  I  need  company."  Then  she  sank 
into  a  chair  by  the  fire,  looking  unusually 
small  and  pale. 

Jane  came  into  the  room,  beautiful  in  a 
jersey  dress  the  color  of  vanilla  ice  cream. 

"Why,  Molly  Campbell!"  she  caroled 
graciously.  "You  shouldn't  have  come  out  in 
all  this  storm  just  for  us!" 

"I'm  afraid  I  didn't,"  Molly  said,  in  her 
softest  Southern  accent.  "I  came  because  I 
don't  like  being  alone  in  a  blizzard." 

Jane  laughed  lightly.  "Really?  How 
funny— I  didn't  think  yon  were  afraid  of 
anything!" 

Molly's  white  cheeks  turned  pink.  "You 
were  quite  right,  Jane— I'm  not.  Are  you?" 


For  it  is  better,  indeed 
more  honorable,  not  to 
have  such  high  principles, 
but  to  conform  to  them 
yourself,  than  to  impose 
the  high  principles  on 
others  and  disregard  them 
yourself. 

—WALTER  LIPPMANN 


"Me?  Heavens,  no!  What  an  idea!" 

"Not  even  of  Christopher?"  Molly  in- 
quired, laughing  innocently. 

"Christopher?  Why  on  earth  should  I  be 
afraid  of  him?"  ; 

"Or  perhaps  Christopher  is  afraid  of  ' 
you?"  Molly  went  on,  smiling  adorably. 
"I'm  sure  that  would  be  quite  under- 
stand  " 

"What  we  need  is  a  cup  of  Christopher's 
special  coffee!"  Candy  said  rather  loudly. 
"Oh,  there  you  are,  Christopher!  Do  please 
make  us  some  of  your  wonderful  coffee,^ 

won't  you?  On  a  night  like  this  David, 

go  upstairs,  please." 

"  I  want  to  stay  here,"  said  David,  settling 
himself  on  the  sofa,  apparently  for  life. 

"Please  go  upstairs,"  said  Candy  levelly. 
Conversation  was  suspended. 

"  It's  cold  upstairs,"  David  complained,  in 
what  even  his  grandmother  would  have  been 
forced  to  describe  as  a  whine. 

"David   "  Candy  began  reasonably. 

"Upstairs!"  Christopher  barked. 

David  leaped  as  one  stung  by  a  wasp,  and 
vanished. 

"He  just  needs  managing,"  Jane  observed 
kindly. 

"The  coffee  cups  are  in  the  pantry,"  said 
Candy  through  her  teeth. 

Christopher  left  the  room  briskly. 

"I  think,  myself,"  said  Jane,  "that  the 
most  important  thing  in  any  marriage  is  to 
agree  about  how  to  bring  up  the  children." 

"Do  you?"  Molly  asked  with  a  rather 
terrifying  sweetness. 

Jane  had  the  grace  to 
blush.  "Well — I  mean — 
if  you  have  children.  Of 

course  if  you  haven't  " 

Candy,  feeling  that  it 
would  give  her  the  most 
acute  pleasure  to  kill  al- 
most anyone,  said 
smoothly,  "It  might  be 
interesting  to  know  what 
Molly  thinks  is  the  most 
important  thing  in  any 
marriage." 

"A  husband,"  said 
Molly  and  giggled  rather 
wildly. 

Christopher  came  back  with  the  coffee 
tray. 

"  Well,  /  think,"  Candy  announced  loudly, 
"that  it's  most  important  to  work  at  a  mar- 
riage." 

"Oh,  yes,  indeed,"  Molly  murmured,  "I 
always  think  that  marriage  is  a  full-time  job. 
To  coin  a  phrase." 

"That's  what  I  like  about  you  South- 
ern girls,"  Christopher  said.  "You're — well, 
you're — er — so  feminine." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  Christopher,"  Molly  said 
demurely.  "I  guess  we're  sort  of  silly.  We 
think  we  need  a  man  to  take  care  of  us.  So 
old-fashioned ! " 

Jane  laughed.  "It's  feminine  to  be  afraid 
to  stay  alone  in  emptv  houses,  isn't  it, 
Molly?" 

"Really,  Jane   "  Christopher  began. 

At  that  moment  every  light  in  the  house 
went  out,  and  from  the  Stygian  dark  Ellen'3 
voice  was  heard  to  say  that  glory  bitta  God 
dinner  was  ready. 

"Mummy,  mummy!"  It  was  a  shriek 
from  above.  "The  lights  have  gone  out! 
Mummy — there  aren't  any  lights!" 

"Lamps!  Candles!  A  match!"  ordered 
Christopher  masterfully,  and  walked  into 
the  coffee  tray. 

As  Candy  lit  the  oil  lamp  on  the  desk, 
Jane  was  heard  Lo  announce  that  if  no  one 
minded,  she  thought  she'd  take  her  dinner 
up  to  bed.  "Presumably,"  she  added,  "the 
furnace  has  stopped  too.  I  should  prefer  to 
be  warm— if  nothing  else.  No.  Please  don't 
bother,  Christopher.  Christopher!  Please!  I 
do  not  need  your  help!" 

Candy  woke  sometime  in  what  is  so  accu- 
rately called  the  dead  of  night.  It  had  been 
impossible  to  leave  a  window  open  when  she 
and  Molly  had  finally  gone  to  bed,  and  the 
room  was  airless.  Lying  in  the  darkness. 
Candy  felt  as  though  her  mind,  like  Pan- 
dora's box,  had  opened  and  let  out  a 


Ml  I 


M  I 


he  outstanding  value 
in  your  home 

MORE  THAN  lOI  WAYS 
SODA  SAVES  YOU  TIME, 
WORK,  MONEY 

lor:  Acid  indigestion 
As  a  toolhpowder 
Mouthwash 
Gargle 
For  sunburn 
Scalds  and  burns 
Insect  bites 
j        Ivy  poisoning 

For:  Baking  lighter- 
j        textured  biscuits  and 
fresher  keeping  cakes 

For:  Cleaning  refrigerators 
Glass  cotVecmakers  - 
Vacuum  bottles 
Bread  boxes 
Silverware  v 
Baby  bottles 
Combs  and  brushes 
Enamel  and  tile 

Why  buy  a  number  of  different 
products  to  do  a  number  of  different 
jobs  when  soda  does  them  all  and 
costs  less? 

Soda  is  so  pure  you  use  it  for  cakes, 
cookies,  biscuits.  And  the  same  soda 
you  know  is  safe  /'//  foods  you  know  is 
safe  with  foods.  So  you  clean  your 
refrigerator  with  soda— and  sweeten 
it,  at  the  same  time. 

1/2  teaspoonful  of  soda  in  Vi  glass 
of  water  brings  prompt  relief  from 
distress  of  indigestion— is  mild  and 
soothing  in  your  stomach. 

From  baking  to  brushing  teeth, 
from  soothing  sunburn  to  putting  out 
fires,  there's  nothing  does  a  better  job 
than  pure  bicarbonate  of  soda. 

Arm  &  Hammer  and  Cow  Brand 
Baking  Soda  meet  all  requirements  of 
United  States  Pharmacopoeia. 

Free  booklet  on  the  "Usefulness  of 
Soda."  Write  Church  &  Dwight  Co., 
Inc.,  70  Pine  Street,  New  York  5,  N.  Y. 


lliDiisand  black-winKfd  Icrrors  Ui  Ixal  alxMit 
lit  r  head:  all  llie  fuars.  cIdiiIiIs  and  apprciii  n- 
Mons  Uiat  wen-  the-  priKlucls  of  ihc  siiiall, 
I  vil  hours  wliL-n  nothinK  in  certain  Imii  un- 
itrtaiiily. 

Sii/i/wsr  Hill  dufs  rrninn  from  hilirna- 
iKiiiai:'  Sii/>/)iisi-  ivf  (til  hfiir  lit  \Unt  ul  the 
I"  nimiifiK  anain  m-w  Joh,  m  w  Jirni.  iirir  l>rit- 
l>lf  VVIial  llHti?  What  then?  Wlial 
ilicn? 

We'd  haw  to  stll  this  house.  mIu-  llu)U«ht, 
l.u•in^;  Uic  l(•(•rin^!  flark  HV  wouldn't  In-  iililr 
Id  iiUord  to  liri'  in  Mustiiul  Hill  W'i  'd  hair  lo 
li  I  lilli  u  no.  11V'(/  hiiir  lo  liiiie  all  our  friends, 
mill  lire  .  .  .  wiieje? 

Hill  would  he  talin  and  optimistic;  but 
inside  liial  hard,  loiirani-oiis  carapace  he'd 
Ih'  misc-rablc  and  frinlilciicd  and  alx>v«' 
Iruslralcd.  After  twelve  years  with  Inter- 
national Airways,  after  all  (lie  promotions 
and  raises,  the  trust  thai  Mr.  Denstone  had 
siiowu  "What    i-lse   should    I  have 

done?"  he'd  ask  himsi'lf.  "What  did  1  do 
wroiiK  and  will  I  do  it  auain?  Will  I  net 
liiis  far  anain    and  fail  lo  no  hirllier?" 

Impulsively.  Candy  tiirew  hack  the  covers 
and  cripl  to  the  window  in  her  hare  feet.  It 
had  slopped  snowing  and  the  wind  had  died; 
she  opened  the  window  uiK)n  a  ni^;hl  as  still 
as  a  sta^c  set,  trees  and  walls  and  houses 
frozen  in  a  moon-blue  linhl.  .  .  .  The  icy  air 
washed  over  her  skin  and  sent  iier  scurryi^^^ 
back  lo  warmth,  Molly  liirned  over,  snun- 
ijled  under  Ihe  blankets  of  Bill's  Ix-d.  and 
slepl  on  as  c|uielly  as  a  child. 

Candy  drew  deep  breaths  of  the  sharp 
night;  and  the  black  wings  receded,  leaving 
behind  Ihem  somelhing  thai  had  not  been 
in  her  mind  before:  the  sense  of  adventure, 
the  conviction  that  something  strange  and 
fresh  and  exciting  was  about  to  happen.  The 
dangers  were  still  visible;  but  there  were 
other  things  besides  danger  in  an  adven- 
ture "less  obvious,  perhaps,  but  in  the  end 
more  important  and  more  lasting. 

Anyway.  I  can  take  the  new  chintz  curtains 
with  lis  wherever  we  no.  she  tliought.  We'd  all 
be  together,  wherever  we  are,  however  we  live.  It 
would  even  l>e  sort  of  fun. 

l\  BLUHruiNT  spread  itself  out  in  her  mind: 
three  rooms,  a  bath  and  a  kitchen,  four 
flights  up  .  .  .  somewhere.  ...  It  was  while 
she  was  trying  to  fit  the  little  mahogany 
bachelor's  chest  into  the  nonexistent  living- 
dining  room  that  she  fell  asleep. 

It  was  still  dark  when  she  woke  again  — 
utterly  dark;  the  moon  had  gone.  This  time 
she  knew  that  something  had  wakened  her. 

"Candy!  Wlial  was  thai?" 

Molly's  tousled  black  head  reared  up  from 
the  next  bed.  Silence  filled  the  room,  and 
neither  of  them  breathed  for  seconds  .  .  . 
then,  from  somewhere  below  them,  some- 
thing scraped  faintly,  and  there  was  a  curious 
little  clink.  Molly's  arm  shot  out  of  the 
covers. 

"Don't  put  on  the  light!"  Candy  whis- 
pered sharply.  She  swallowed  hard.  Never 
before  had  her  own  house  seemed  hostile  and 
terrifying.  "I'm  going  downstairs." 

Molly  gasped  in  the  darkness.  "Candy! 
We've  got  lo  call  the  police!" 

"The  patrol  car  couldn't  get  through  this 
snow,"  Candy  told  her.  "  Whoever  it  is  down 
there  knows  that ! " 

"Candy."  Molly  shuddered,  "you  don't 
think— it  couldn't  be  the  .  .  .  gang?" 

Candy,  struggling  into  her  dressing  gown, 
murmured  grimly,  "Wlio  else?" 

"But— but— what  can  you  do?" 

"Get  a  look  at  them,"  Candy  whispered 
tersely.  "Be  able  to  recognize  them  again. 
Good-by.  I'm  going  down." 

"Not,"  said  Molly  unexpectedly,  "with- 
out me!" 

At  the  top  of  the  stairs  they  paused.  Si- 
lence surged  up  to  meet  them.  Keeping  close 
to  the  wall,  they  took  five  cautious  steps 
downward. 

A  thin  sharp  crack  from  below  riiade  them 
clutch  each  other  with  the  painful  rigidity 
of  sheer  panic.  Then  from  above,  a  hissing 
whisper  made  them  leap  again. 

"Candy!  Is  that  you?  What's  that  noise?" 

Jane  crept  down  the  stairs  and  they  stood, 
their  three  heads  close  together. 

"Burglars,"  said  Candy. 


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"The  juvenile  delinquents,"  Molly 
breathed. 

Jane  seized  Candy  with  cold  fingers.  "You 
can't  go  down  there !  They'll  shoot !  They're 
armed!" 

Candy  shook  off  Jane's  fingers.  "All  we 
have  to  do  is  get  a  look  at  their  faces  " 

"And  let  them  get  a  look  at  ours!"  Jane 
whispered. 

Then  Molly  spoke,  very  softly.  "What  we 
need  is  a  man,  Jane— wake  Christopher!" 

"I  will  not  wake  Christopher!"  Jane's 
face  and  Molly's  were  within  three  inches  of 
each  other.  "If  Candy  can  do  this,  I  can! 
And  so  can  you,  Molly  Belle  Campbell  " 

There  was  a  heavy  thud.  "They've  got 
in  the  laundry  window."  Candy  began  to 
shake.  "They're  in  the  kitchen.  Look— you 
two  go  round  to  the  dining-room  door.  I'll 
open  the  door  from  the  hall  a  crack.  If  we 
can  all  get  one  good  look  " 

"I  still  think  that  Christopher  "  be- 
gan Molly  desperately. 

"I'm  glad,"  said  Jane  in  a  trembling  whis- 
per, "that  /  don't  depend  on  a  man  for 
everything!" 

She  slipped  down  the  stairs  and  her  white 
form  vanished  in  the  gloom  of  the  living 
room.  Candy  and  Molly  followed.  At  the 
foot  of  the  stairs.  Candy  gently  pushed  with 
the  tips  of  her  fingers  the  door  that  led  from 
hall  to  kitchen.  Through  the  tiny  crack,  she 
could  see  only  the  eye  of  a  flashlight,  moving 
and  disappearing.  Softly,  she  pulled  the  door 
shut  again  and  put  her  lips  to  Molly's  ear. 
"I'm  going  to  kneel  down  at  the  crack  and 
you  look  through  above  me.  Then  we  can 
both  " 

Suddenly,  and  without  the  slightest  warn- 
ing, there  was  a  noise  like  the  end  of  the 
world— a  shattering,  deafening  crash,  fol- 
lowed by  a  heart-stopping  series  of  smaller 
crashes,  and  then  one  final,  dreadful  thump 
that  shook  the  floor  under  their  feet.  Past 
them  up  the  stairs  fled  a  thin  figure,  shriek- 
ing, "Christopher!  Wake  up!  Where  are 
you?  Christopher— help!" 

Candy  was  paralyzed  with  terror.  Molly's 
arms  throttled  her.  Molly's  sobs  seemed  to 
be  her  own,  and  above  her  Jane's  moans 
drove  every  sensible  thought  from  her  mind. 

"Christopher— C/;r«/o/)/;e)-.'  Oh,  please 
come  " 

Christopher  pounded  down  the  stairs, 
followed  by  Jane,  pushed  past  Candy  and 
Molly  and  flung  open  the  kitchen  door.  "Put 
up  your  hands!  I've  got  you  covered,"  he 
grated;  and  his  accent  was  very  nearly 
Western.  He  bent  down,  picked  up  the  fallen 
flashlight,  and  turned  its  beam  upon  an 
extraordinary  scene. 

Prone  upon  the  kitchen  floor  lay  Adam 
Campbell  and  Bill,  inextricably  mingled 
with  each  other  and  the  pieces  of  what  had 
once  been  a  kitchen  chair.  They  were  ap- 
parently covered  from  head  to  foot  with 
boiled  ham,  some  amorphous  substance  that 
looked  like  jelly,  and  several  varieties  of 
cheese.  Their  eyes  glared  wildly  into  the 
blinding  light;  they  looked  like  two  hunted 
things,  trapped  in  a  rather  unusual  collec- 
tion of  bait. 

There  was  a  moment  of  stunned  silence. 
Then  Candy  began  to  laugh  in  a  strange 
high  voice,  Jane  burst  enthusiastically  into 
tears  and  Molly  combined  both  activities. 

"Ha  ha  ha!"  shouted  Molly,  and  she 
sounded  like  a  loon  on  a  lake.  "Oh  dear  oh 
Adam  I  feel  so  awful  oh  Adam  what  on 
earth  are  you  doing  on  the  floor  I  think  I'm 
going  to  die  oh  Adam  ha  ha  HAHA  " 

Candy  and  Jane  managed  to  get  her  onto 
the  living-room  sofa  and  light  a  candle,  while 
Christopher  with  some  difficulty  extricated 
Adam  and  Bill.  Then,  with  great  presence 
of  mind,  he  picked  up  a  lump  of  melting 
snow  from  the  kitchen  floor,  advanced  into 
the  living  room  and  put  it  firmly  down 
Molly's  neck.  Molly  gave  one  final  loonlike 
shriek  and  subsided  into  sobs,  her  tears 
mingling  on  Adam's  chest  with  jelly  and 
bits  of  ham.  .  .  . 

Some  half  an  hour  later,  everyone  had  as- 
sembled around  the  kitchen  table.  Bill  said, 
"We  found  that  one  late  train  was  going  to 
get  through,  so  we  took  it.  We  were  on  that 
train  for  four  hours,  and  naturally  when  we 


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ADDRESS  

City  

St  A  TE  


II 


Ml         J    <i    I      II     N     \  I 


I 


vliislard  I  (ill,  ur  luid  to  walk.  We  were 
i,  wc  wcri'  loiuplclcly  cxliauslcd 
(I't  want  lo  (lisliiil)  you,  so  wc  lon  cd 
ck  on   Ihe   laundry    window,  and 
!l  in." 

ly  nave  every  {'vkIcucc  oI  hciru'  alxnii 
lo  pieces  a^ain,  and  C  hi  isloplicr  re- 
1  Willi  a  cerlain  aiidil  \ ,  "  jolly  decenl 
i()  think  of  U.S." 

I, it  I  can't  understand,"  t'andy  said, 
ly  you  fell  you  had  to  take  the  train 
(irst  place.  After  all,  you  were  tjoth 
.it  the  University  C'liih 
I  was  lK)uiid  and  delcriniiicd  to  ^^ct 
ere  toninht,"  Aflain  said  wearily,  "lie 
see  Candy  instantly    iiol  toiiioi  idw 
Minever  saw  such  a  tiling,  lie  acted  as 
3  1   he  were  carryinj^   the  serum  lo 

Illy  lurned  lo  Hill  in  amazement,  wiih 
outh  open  lo  ask  "Why?"  and  Hill 
his  head  at  her,  ever  so  sli^;htly.  Slii' 
her  nunilli,  bul  she  kept  on  kK)kinn  at 
'What  did  lhat  ^leam  in  his  eye 
?  ,  .  .  Hill  Sleirarl.  she  Ihouiihl,  irlial 
mt  been  ii/>  to? 

>  first  pallid  linhl  was  at  Ihe  windows 
they  all  discovered  simullaneously  lhat 
were  exhausted,  Molly  moved  into  the 
room  with  .jane,  and  .\dam,  arrayed  in 
r  of  Hill's  pajamas,  was  lucked  up  on 
vint;-r>x)m  sofa. 

this  look  rather  a  loni;  lime;  but  linally 
ast  bed  was  made  up,  the  last  door 
and  Hill,  in  their 
room,  lurned  to 

ly. 

f  you  don't  tell  me 
instanl   "  she  be- 


I'.llrn 


e  interrupted. 
i|  ven'l  I  been  waiting 
his  very  moment?" 
ked.  "Haven't  1  slru.t;- 
to  you  through  snow 
ice,  bearing  a  banner  with  the  stran.ije 
ce  " 

Veil  me!"  Candy  commanded,  thumping 
on  the  chest,  "  What— has— happened — 
you?" 

I  have  been  very  busy."  said  Bill,  "ac- 
ing  the  mana,i;ership  of  the  new  Queens- 
1  branch  of  Internal ional  Airways,  Inc." 
You've  been  what?"  Candy  gasped. 
The  new  Qticenslown  branch,"  Bill  re- 
ed slowly,  "You  know — the  bi.g  new 
ihern  ollice?  Well,  William  MacAlastair 
vart  is  the  new  manager." 
andy  stared  at  him,  and  her  mouth 
•ly  opened.  She  emitted  a  long,  low, 
rtfelt  shriek,  something  like  a  contralto 
n  whistle. 

I  know'  Queenslown's  not  a  very  big 
,"  Bill  said  modestly,  "but  the  job  is  big 
so's  the  opportunity- and  Mr.  Denstone 
Its  us  to  be  there  by  Christmas.  So  if  you 
bear  the  thought  " 

VNDY  was  at  last  able  to  speak.  "  Bear  the 
ught !  It's  a  heavenly  city — it's  a  ivonder- 
city!  The  managership— oh,  Bill,  it's  so 
iting  I  can't  stand  it— how  did  it  hap- 
i— tell  me  instantly— tell  me  everything— 
me  tell  me  tell  me!" 

Bill  sat  on  the  edge  of  his  bed,  ruffled  his 
r  and  grinned  happily  at  her.  "Well,  you 
,"  he  said,  "it  never  entered  my  head  that 
y'd  even  consider  me  for  the  job.  When 
nstone  called  me  into  the  board  room  this 
emoon,  and  sprang  it  on  me  . .  .  well,  you 
lid  have  knocked  me  over  with  a— with 

'Piece  of  boiled  ham,"  Candy  suggested, 
a  tone  of  pure  bliss.  "Go  on— tell  me 
'■ctly  what  they  said — every  word ! " 
Bill  told  her  every  word. 

X  was  Sunday  evening.  The  snowplows 
1  gone  through  soon  after  breakfast ;  Jane 
i  Christopher  had  gone  back  lo  town; 
am  had  taken  Molly  home;  the  children 
"e  asleep. 

;^andy  crawled  thankfully  into  bed,  and 
ked  across  the  room  at  Bill.  "I've  never 
•n  so  tired  in  all  my  life,"  she  said.  "But 
lust  talk  to  you,  darling.  A  lot  of  things 

.'e  been  worrying  me  for  a  long  time  " 

3111  looked  up.  "What  things?" 


If  you  are  going  to  do  a 
good  deed,  don't  ask  what 
the  reward  will  be. 


CHINESE  PROVERB 


^OOOOOOC 


"Well,  ihf  first  ihinu  ih  Ellen  Hill 
IS    is  a  problem." 

"I  know  all  atxnil  Klli-n  "  HiII'h  inoulli 
lightened.  "She's  Iken  dnviiiK  nie  crazy  for 
monihs.  She  and  her  feel,  Wlial  hIm-  twith 
IS  to  liiid  out  she's  not  indisix-ntijible.  l-Jlt-n," 
said  Hill,  with  somewhat  »{IiouIihIi  Klee,  "in 
going  lo  have  a  nice  vacation  wiili  her 
niece  in  New  .|ersi-y,  where  she'll  tx-  made  lo 
work  like  a  horse.  Thai  will  lix  I-Jllen.  Next  ?" 

Candy  sighed  deeply.  "You  make  it  all  ho 
simple,"  she  lold  hiin.  "Well,  then  l>avi<l. 
And  Sarah." 

Ilii.i.  bent  over  his  sIuk's.  "David  is  mostly 
my  laull.  Candy.  I've  Imtii  Um>  worried  and 
l)reoccupie<l.  I've  left  il  all  to  you.  David 
iiei  ds  lo  be  taken  in  hand  my  hand.  And  I 
think  you'll  lind  thai  Sarah  will  straighten 
up  and  lly  right  when  she  sees  lli:il  crime 
doi'sn't  pay." 

Candy's  sigh  of  relief  sounded  like  the 
wind  in  Ihe  chimney.  "And  then,"  she  said 
hesitantly,  "there's  Molly 

The  telephone  rang.  With  an  expressive 
look.  Hill  padded  out  of  the  room  in  his 
dressing  vown.  Candy's  telephone  convers;i- 
tion  had,  as  an  obhiigalo,  the  sound  of  water 
in  the  tub.  When  Hill  came  back,  twenty 
nunutes  later.  Candy  was  silting  up  in  lx.-d. 

"What  is  the  meaning."  demanded  Hill, 
"of  thai  idiot  grin?" 

"Molly."  said  Candy,  her  grin  widening, 
"is  going  to  have  a  baby.  She  just  figured  it 
out!  Hill,  isn't  it  mar- 
vek)us?  Isn't  it  tlirill- 
infi?  And  of  course  I  should 
have  known  it  all  the 
lime  —  " 

"Why  on  earth  should 
you  have   -  " 

"Had  temper!"  Candy 
warbled.  "  She  turned  blue. 
Slewed  prunes  and  shrimp 
paste.  Aren't  you  glad?" 
"I'm  delighted, ".Hill  said  heartily,  "that 
she's  turned  blue,  if  il  means  that  she  and 
Adam  are  having  a  baby."  He  got  into  bed. 
"Lei's  discuss  this." 

Candy  sobered.  "Not  yet.  Hill.  There's 
jusl  one  more  thing."  Bill  reared  up.  looking 
alarmed.  "You  know  Greenall  Parker?" 
"I  do." 

"Well .  .  .  Bill.  Green  has  been  sending  me 

flowers  for— for  weeks." 
"Why  not?" 

"But— well,  but  he's — I  mean  Green  is 
sort  of— he's  " 

"Sure."  Bill  sank  back  on  his  pillow  com- 
fortably. "Green  thinks  he's  in  love  with 
you,"  he  said,  "(iive  him  time,  darling.  Let 
him  have  his  little  unreciuited  romance.  In 
a  year  or  two  he'll  really  fall  in  love  with  a 
nice  girl  and  marry  her  and  find  out  what 
romance  is." 

"Oh."  said  Candy  on  a  falling  inflection. 
"Oh.  Well,  if  >w/  don't  mind  " 

They  were  almost  asleep  when  Candy 
spoke  in  the  darkness. 

"By  the  way.  Willy  Stewart,  the  ne.xt 
lime  you  get  something  on  your  mind,  you're 
to  tell  me  at  once — do  you  hear?  And  not 
brood  all  over  the  house,  like  Hamlet." 

"Me  brood!"  Bill  sounded  thoroughly 
roused.  "It  was  you  who  were  doing  all  the 
brooding,  my  good  woman— going  round 
with  that  pure,  patient  look  on  your  face.  I 
was  afraid  to  speak  to  you." 

"I  was  just  trying  not  to  bother  you," 
she  told  him. 

"I  w-as  trying  not  to  worry  you." 

"Well,  from  now  on.  darling,"  Candy  said 
sternly,  "please  do  worry  me,  because  it 
worries  me  much  less  than  when  you  don't. 
If  you  sec  what  I  mean." 

"Oddly  enough,"  Bill  growled,  "I  do." 

Some  minutes  later.  Candy  said  reflec- 
tively, "I  thought  maybe  you  were  tired 
of  me." 

'■  When  I  get  tired  of  you,  you'll  know  it." 

"Yes.  but  how?"  Candy  asked  anxiously. 

"I'll  beat  you."  Bill  said  in  a  voice  thick 
with  sleep.  "Which  I  am  contemplating  this 
instant." 

"Oh,  well,  that's  all  right,  then."  Candy 
sighed  contentedly  and  snuggled  into  her 
pillow.  .  .  .  Queenstown  by  Christmas. 

THE  END 


'00%  Mild  Palmolive  Soap  Helps  You  Guard  that 


Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  Is  Far  Better 
For  Your  Skin  Than  'Just  Average  Care" 
With  Any  Leading  Toilet  Soap! 


Yes,  Softer,  Smoother,  Brighter  Skin — 

that  Schoolgirl  Complexion  Look — most 
women  can  have  it  within  14  days.  36 
leading  skin  specialists  have  proved  it  in 
actual  tests  on  twelve  hundred  and  eighty- 
five  women.  What's  more,  these  doctors 
found  that  Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  is  un- 
questionahly  better  for  your  skin  than  "just 
average  care"  with  any  leading  toilet  soap. 
So  don't  lose  another  day!  Change  to 
Palmolive's  Be.iuty  Plan  .  .  .  massage 
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your  skin  for  60  seconds,  3  times  a  day. 
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cause Palmolive  brings  out  beauty  while 
it  cleans  your  skin! 

*No  therapeutic  claim  is  made  for  the  chlorophyll. 


Nature's  Chlorophyir 

Is  In  Every  Cake  Of 
Palmolive  Soap  .  .  .  That's  What 
Makes  Palmolive  Green! 


100%  Hlild!  Doctors  Prove  Palmolive  Brings  Out  Beauty  While  It  Cleans  Your  Skia! 


I<>() 


I,    V    I)    I    E    S  ' 


II    ()    M  K 


.1    ()    r  K 


I /'//•/. 


People  take 
us  for  sisters 


All  of  you  have  seen  women  who  seem 
so  vital,  so  alive,  that  you'd  swear  they 
were  the  older  sisters  of  their  own  daugh- 
ters. The  chances  are  these  women  seem 
young  because  they  "think  young"  — 
even  about  such  delicate  problems  as 
the  proper  method  of  monthly  sanitary 
protection. 

Tampax  is  the  young  way,  the  modern 
way,  the  internal  way.  Invented  by  a 
doctor,  Tampax  lets  you  avoid  the  incon- 
veniences and  embarrassments  of  "those 
difficult  days."  There  are  no  belts,  no 
pins;  there's  no  odor,  no  chafing — you 
don't  even  feel  you're  wearing  the  Tam- 
pax, once  it's  in  place.  And  with  Tampax 
there's  nothing  that  can  possibly  show 
beneath  your  closest-fitting  dresses. 

Made  of  pure,  white  surgical 
cotton,  Tampax  comes  in  dainty 
applicators,  is  easily  disposable. 
Month's  supply  goes  in  your 
purse.  Tampax  is  sold  at  drug  or  notion 
counters  in  3  absorbencies :  Regular, 
Super,  Junior.  The  economy  size  box 
holds  an  average  4  months'  supply. 
Look  for  Tampax  Vendor  in  restrooms 
throughout  the  United  States.  Tampax 
Incorporated,  Palmer,  Mass. 


Accepted  for  AdvcTthing 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 

TAMPAX  INCORPORATED  LHj-43-r 
Palmer,  Mass. 

Please  send  me  in  plain  wrapper  a  trial  package  of 
Tampax.  I  enclose  lOt-  (stamps  or  silver)  to  covet  cost 
of  mailing.  Size  is  checked  below. 

(     )  REGULAR  (    )  SUPER  (     )  JUNIOR 

Name  

Address  

City   State  


MAKE  ME  KEAL 

(Continued  from  Page  41) 


she  was  young."  Now  her  face  simply  waited, 
more  attractive  at  second  glance  than  at  first, 
and  still  drawinu;  a  dateless  elegance  from  the 
heavy  coil  ef  the  black.  Madonna  hair,  and 
the  habitual  lifted,  half-lisleninu  carriage  of 
the  head. 

Her  mother  had  died  when  she  was  only 
nine.  She  had  not  missed  her  as  much  as  she 
felt  that  she  should.  She  continued  to  live  as 
she  had,  in  the  shadowy,  cool,  big  plantation 
house,  with  her  shadowy,  alcoholic  father 
and  his  gentle,  mildly  alcoholic  sister  who 
came  to  them  when  her  mother  died.  They 
were  the  Carringtons,  all  that  was  left  of  the 
family. 

The  Archer  kinfolk— and  there  were  many 
of  them— were  like  her  mother:  pretty, 
vague,  dove-voiced  women  in  big  hats  and 
ruffled  dresses. 

"Poor  little  Rose,"  she  would  hear  them 
say;  "poor  little  plain  thing,  wanderin' 
round  like  a  lost  soul.  Y'ought  to  send  her  to 
Briargrove,  really  y'ought.  Lily's  money 'd 
take  care  of  that  much.  I  declare,  it's  too 
bad,  keepin'  her  around  here  to  get  odd  as 
Dick's  liatband  and  lettin'  her  go  to  that 
village  school  like  she  was  a  sharecropper's 
child.  .^Vppears  to  me  you've  got  that  much 
plain  responsibility  to  Lily,  Charles.  How's 
she  ever  going  to  get  a  husband,  a  little  thing 
without  looks  or  money,  if  she  isn't  even 
raised  to  fix  herself  up  and  have  pretty 
ways?" 

But  her  father  would  only  smile  and 
sweeten  his  tall  drink,  accepting  them  like  a 
fact  in  nature,  as  if 
their  voices  meant  no 
more  than  the  whistle 
of  the  mockingbird  in 
the  syringa.  or  the 
pattering  of  a  light 
summer  shower. 

"We're  doing  all 
right.  Belle.  Now, 
Carol  Anne,  don't 
fuss  like  that  and  get 
wrinkles  before  your 
time." 

And  they  would 
drive  off  in  the  big  touring  car,  crying,  "I 
declare  to  goodness,  it's  a  disgrace.  I  declare, 
you  might  as  well  talk  to  the  wind  in  the 
trees.  Every  mortal  soul  of  the  Carringtons 
has  been  like  that." 

Her  mother  had  been  tender  in  manner 
but  not  really  affectionate.  It  was  frightening 
to  know  that  someone  could  be  alive  and 
then  dead.  It  meant  that  death  was  real.  But 
no  matter  how  Rose  tried  to  remember  her 
and  weep  properly,  lier  mother  w-as  an  easy 
person  to  forget. 

The  days  were  long  and  happy,  papa  and 
Aunt  Lila  did  not  make  a  bother  if  you 
played  with  the  sharecropper's  children,  and 
nights  they  often  forgot  to  tell  you  to  go  to 
bed,  and  you  could  sneak  down  to  the  cabins 
and  hear  the  help  sing.  Old  Tizzie  had  her 
cabin  there.  She  had  belonged  to  grand- 
father's father  for  the  first  month  of  her 
life,  and  when  slie  got  big  she  worked  in 
the  kitchen  until  she  was  too  old.  She  had 
a  big,  soft  lap;  even  when  your  legs  had 
got  so  long  they  trailed  on  the  ground, 
she  liked  you  to  sit  in  it  and  listen  to  the 
singing. 

TizziE,  tell  them  to  sing  'Wouldn't  mind 
dyin'.'" 

"Tell  'em  youself.  Rose.  Who's  boss  round 
here?" 

"Papa.  You  tell  them,  Tizzie." 
"You  ol'  baby,  when  you  aimin'  to  grow 
up?"  And  then  they  would  sing  it  for  her: 

"  Wouldn't  mind  dyin',  hut  I  got  to  go  by 
myself. 

Wouldn't  mind  dyin',  hut  I  got  to  stay  so 
long. 

Grave,  grave,  sure  is  a  lonesome  place. 

Oil,  I  irouldn't  mind  dyin',  if  dyin'  was  all." 

She  liked  it  because  it  made  her  forget  for 
a  moment  how  happy  she  w^as,  and  then  she 
could  cry  about  her  mother. 


INVEST 


But  when  she  was  fourteen  they  sent  her 
to  Briargrove,  after  all. 

The  .'\rcher  kinfolk  had  all  gone  to  Briar- 
grove. and  all  the  girls  at  Briargrove  were 
indistinguishable  from  the  Archer  kinfolk. 
If  they  had  been  unkind,  she  could  have 
hated  them  and  developed  a  lonely  superior- 
ity. But  they  were  all  gentle  and  sweet  and 
pitying,  they  fed  their  egos  with  a  communal 
project  of  being  nice  to  poor  Rose  Carring- 
ton,  and  it  destroyed  her. 

She  had  stood  outside  a  closed  door,  once, 
in  a  corridor  and  heard  the  voices: 

"The  poor,  skinny  little  old  thing,  I  de- 
clare, I  want  to  cry  when  I  see  her.  My 
mother  has  a  friend  that's  kin  to  the  Archers, 
she  says  it's  a  crime  the  life  that  child  has 
had,  her  mother  dead  and  her  father  always 
tipsy." 

"Do  you  guess  she  minds?  She's  right 
smart  with  her  lessons.  Maybe  she  doesn't 
mind  lookin'  like  she  does." 

And  another  voice,  cruelly  gentle: 
"I  don't  see  how  any  girl  could  help 
mindin'  it,  knowin'  she  was  just  a  natural- 
born  old  maid." 

And  then  Nan  Laurence,  the  cleverest  of 
the  seniors: 

"You  know  what  I'd  do  if  it  was  me?  I'd 
go  up  North  to  college  and  then  I'd  just  get 
me  a  job  and  stay  there.  Lots  of  things  don't 
matter,  up  North." 

That  afternoon  she  had  gone  to  her  fa- 
vorite teacher.  "Would  Briargrove  prepare 
me  for  a  Northern 
college?" 

"Briargrove  is  a 
finishing  school.  You 
couldn't  be  certified, 
but  you  could  take 
examinations.  I 
would  like  to  see  you 
learn  something, 
Rose.  I  have  watched 
you,  I  have  liked  to 
hope  that  your  intel- 
ligence would  not  be 
wasted." 

At  Christmas  she  hesitated  how  to  ap- 
proach her  father;  but  fortunately.  Aunt 
Belle  and  Aunt  Pris'  Austen,  who  dropped  in 
one  afternoon,  were  persuaded  to  have  a 
glass  of  wine  and  neither  of  them  had  a  head 
for  it.  They  began  to  fuss  at  papa  and  Aunt 
Lila  for  the  way  they  lived  and  said  that 
poor  Lily  would  turn  over  in  her  grave  if 
she  could  see  them,  always  poked  in  there, 
never  entertaining  a  soul,  drink,  drink,  drink 
and  ruining  their  health.  Papa  was  courteous, 
he  was  always  courteous,  but  you  could  see 
how  they  made  him  feel.  And  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  Rose  played  a  woman's  trick. 

She  waited  until  they  were  gone,  and  she 
sweetened  papa's  glass  for  him  herself.  , 

"I  love  school,"  she  said.  "I'm  glad  you 
sent  me  to  Briargrove,  papa.  The— the 
teachers  think  I'm  so  good  at  my  books  I 
ought  to  go  on  up  North  to  college.  If 
mamma's  money  would  be  enough,  that  is." 

She  saw  his  look  of  startled  hesitation,  and 
laid  her  ace  of  trumps  gently  before  him. 

"Of  course  the  Archer  kinfolk  would  all 
think  you  were  right  stark  out  of  your  head 
to  let  me  go,"  she  said  mournfully.  "  I  didn't 
think  of  that.  I  — I  suppose  I  shouldn't  have 
asked  you.  I  wouldn't  want  to  make  trouble 
for  you  with  Aunt  Belle  and  the  rest  of 
them,  tiresome  as  they  can  be." 

He  smiled. 

"Yes,  they  think  they  know  everything, 
don't  they?  They  think  they  know  more 
than  Lila  and  me  and  the  teachers  at  Briar- 
grove about  raisin'  a  child." 

And  then  she  was  part  of  another  world. 
She  had  not  known  what  she  hoped  of  it. 
She  only  knew,  quite  simply,  that  she  could 
not  go  back  to  Charleswood  and  get  to  be 
like  Aunt  Lila,  an  old  maid,  disregarded 
even  in  her  gentle  self-destruction,  tippling 
the  day's  emptiness  into  a  half-semblance  of 
the  night's  sleep. 

(Continued  nn  Page 


The 


blanket  on  the  opposite  pa^ 
is  the 


ALL-SEASON!^ 

blanket 

Available  in  authentic  Tartan  patter 
in  these  and  many  other  fine  sto 
from  coast  to  coast. 

Approximately  *-  9.95 


ALABAMA 

Birmingham  Loveman's 

Mobile  C.  J.  Gayter  Company 

CALIFORNIA 

Berkeley  J.  F.  Hink  &  Sons 

Long  Beach  Buffums' 

Los  Angeles  Barker  Bros. 

Los  Angeles 

Broadway  Dept.  Stores 

Oakland  Breuners 

Oakland  H  C.  Capwell  Co. 

Pasadena  F.  C.  Nash  Co. 

Sacramento 

Weinstock-Lubin  &  Co. 
San  Bernardino 

The  Harris  Company 

San  Diego  Whitney's 

San  Francisco  Emporium 

San  Francisco  Macy's 

San  Francisco.  .The  White  House 

COLORADO 
Colorado  Sprmgs. .  Boston  Store 
Denver . . .  Denver  Dry  Goods  Co, 
Pueblo.  .Crews-Beggs  Dry  Goods 

CONNECTICUT 
Bridgeport.  .Howland  Dry  Goods 

Hartford  G.  Fox  &  Co. 

New  Haven. Horowitz  Bros.,  Inc. 
New  Haven.  .Edward  (Vlalley  Co. 

DIST.  OF  COLUMBIA 
Washington.  The  Hecht  Company 
Washington 

Woodward  &  Lothrop 
FLORIDA 

Miami  Burdine's 

GEORGIA 

Atlanta  Rich's  Inc. 

Savannah  Hogan's 

ILLINOIS 

Champaign. .  .F.  K.  Robeson  Co. 
Chicago 

Marshall  Field  &  Company 
Chicago  Heights.  .The  Rau  Store 

Pekin  Schipper  &  Block  Co. 

Peoria  Block  &  Kuhl  Co. 

Springfield 

The  John  Bressmer  Co. 

INDIANA 

Evansville.  .Schear's  Dept.  Store 
Hammond.  .Edward  C.  MinasCo. 
Indianapolis.  .L,  S.  Ayres  &  Co. 

Richmond  Lawler's 

South  Bend  Robertson's 

IOWA 

Burlington. .  .J.  S.  Schramm  Co. 

Cedar  RapiOs  Craemer's 

Davenport 

Peterson-Harned-Von  Maur 

KANSAS 

Topeka  Pelletier's 

Wichita  Innes 

KENTUCKY 

Louisville 

Kaufman-Straus  Company 

LOUISIANA 

New  Orleans 

D.  H.  Holmes  Co.  Ltd. 

MAINE 

Portland 

Porteous,  Mitchell  &  Braun 

MARYLAND 

Baltimore.  .Hutzler  Brothers  Co. 
MASSACHUSETTS 

Boston. .  .Wm.  Filene's  Sons  Co. 

Boston  R.  H.  White's 

Boston  T.  D.  Whitney  Co. 

Springfield  Forbes  &  Wallace 

Worcester  C.  T.  Sherer  Co. 

MICHIGAN 

Calumet  Vertin's 

Detroit.  ..J.  L.  Hudson  Company 


NEW  JERSEY 

Asbury  Park  Ti 

Newark.... L,  Bambergei 

Newark  Hahne  &  Co 

Paterson  Meyer  B 

Red  Bank  She 

Trenton  

NEW  YORK 

Albany  W  M  Whitt 

Buffalo... The  Wm  Henge 

Ithaca  Rothschild  B> 

New  York  B  Altmar 

New  York  Lord  & 

New  York  Mc 

Rochester 

Sibley,  Lindsay 

Syracuse  Dey  Brother: 

Utica  J.  B.  Wells  &  El 

NORTH  CAROLlI 

Asheville  

Durham  Eilli 

Greensboro  Ellii 

Raleigh  Ivey-Tal 

Winston-Salem.  .The  Ancl 

NORTH  DAKoJ 

Fargo  0.  J.  DeLendrJ 

OHIO 

Cincinnati.  Sl 

Cleveland. .The  HigbeeCJ 
Columbus.  F  &  R.  Lazarufl 
Dayton. TKe Elder  SJohnsT 

Dayton  The  Rike  Kurri 

Springfield 

The  Edward  Wre3 

Toledo  Laf 

Toledo  LaSalle  I 

Youngstown  I 
Strouss-Hirshbl 

Oklahoma] 

Bartlesville. .  Martin  Depl 

Oklahoma  City  HallibI 

Tulsa  VanI 

PENNSYLVANll 

AMoona  Wolf  Furnit| 

Easton  

Harrisburg 

Bowman's  Depl.  StoJ 

Lewistown  Dankj 

Philadelphia 

Strawbridge  &  ( 
Philadelphia. .  .John  WanJ 

Pittsburgh  Joseph  Hod 

Pittsburgh  KaufI 

Sunbury. . .  Bittner  s  Depn 

Scranton  The  Glob| 

Wilkes-Barre 

Fowler  Dick  and  I 
RHODE  ISLANH 
Providence  GlaJ 

SOUTH  CAROLllj 

Charleston 

Kerrison  Dry  Goods  Co| 

TENNESSEE 

Chattanooga. Miller  Broth^ 

TEXAS 

Beaumont  The  White| 

Houston  

UTAH 

Salt  Lake  City  Z.  C| 

VIRGINIA 

Lynchburg  J.  R  Millrl 

Martinsville  Gloll 

Norfolk.. W.  G.  Swartz  Co  | 

Richmond   Miller  &  I 

Roanoke  S.  H.  Heird 

WASHINGTOM 

Seattle  Frederick  &  [ 

Spokane  TheCiJ 

Tacoma  


i 


SEE    OPPOSITE  PAGE 


Grand  Rapids 

Paul  Steketee  &  Sons 
Lansing.  .J,  W.  Knapp  Company 

Saginaw  The  J.  W.  Ippel  Co. 

MINNESOTA 

Duluth  Edward  F.  Wahl  Co. 

Fairmont  Wallace's 

Minneapolis 

The  Dayton  Company 

St.  Paul  Emporium 

MISSOURI 
Kansas  City.Emery-Bird-Thayer 
St.  Louis  Stix,  Baer  &  Fuller 


WEST  VIRGINlii 

Clarksburg. .  .Watts-Sartc  I'. 
Huntington. Bradshaw-Die 

Wheeling  L.  S  Good  : 

Wheeling  Stone  &  T  laJ 

WISCONSIN 

Green  Bay  H  C.  Pran 

LaCrosse. .  .Wm,  Doerfliiu 
Marinette. .  .Lauerman  Br 

Milwaukee  Bostoi 

Milwaukee 

Ed  Schuster  &  Co 
Superior  Roth  Bn 


I     \    h    I  I 


"••Ml         I     II     (      n     N     V  I 


Suddenly  in  blankets  there's  a  ne\  er-before  softness ...  a 
touch  that's  a  caress... a  dream-a-littlc-longer  comfort  that  only  Vicara 
brings  to  the  blend.  Blankets  loomed  of  this  new  lu\ur\'  fiber 
turn  a\va\  chills  w  ith  their  soft  warmth  in  December  or  May 
...their  beauty  grows  richer  with  years... and 
long  weai"  life  pays  their  sensible  cost  many  times  o\  er. 


Vicara  zein  fiber  is  a  product  of  Fiber  Division,  Virginia-Carolina  Chemicol  Corporation,  500  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York  36,  N.  Y. 


192 


L    A  D 


E  S 


HOME 


JOURNAL 


April 


Now  Learn  the  Ml] 
about  Vacuum  Cleaners 


No  matter  what  the  cleaner  looks  like . . 


A  dirt  clogged  bag,  Inside  or  outside,  reduces  suction  and  cleaning  efficiency! 

JSREAUy  S/I&LESS 

No  vacuum  cleaner  duplicates  or  can  duplicate  .  .  • 
the  patented  structure  of  the  FILTER  QUEEN! 

NO  vacuum  cleaner  can  clean  at  peak  efficiency  for  very  long  when  the  air 
taken  in  at  the  nozzle  passes  through  a  paper  or  cloth  bag  full  of  dirt  before 
returning  to  the  room.  The  dirt  in  the  bag  (cloth  or  paper)  blocks  the  air  taken 
in  at  the  nozzle.  As  dirt  in  the  bag  builds  up,  suction  power  at  the  nozzle  goes  down 

The  FILTER  QUEEN  system  of  sustained  high  cleaning  efficiency  is  designed 
to  avoid  suction  "slow  down"  because  there  is  no  bag  to  fill  with  dirt  and  block 
suction.  In  FILTER  QUEEN,  the  dirt  is  collected  in  a  spacious  metal  container 
in  a  manner  that  does  not  interfere  with  air  flow. 

The  advantages  of  the  FILTER  QUEEN  system  of  dirt  removal  are  easily 
seen.  With  no  bag  full  of  dirt  to  hinder  suction,  cleaning  is  deeper,  faster,  easier, 
and  more  thorough.  This  can  mean  cleaning  less  often  and  a  saving  of  hours  of 
housework. 


FREE 

-  Receive  this  large,  metal,  colorful  wastepaper 
basket  absolutely  free  just  for  watching  a  demonstration.  All 
of  the  statements  contained  in  this  advertisement  may  be 
quickly  demonstrated  by  Filter  Queen's  courteous,  bonded 
dealers.  You  owe  it  to  yourself  and  u-  your  family  to  see  the 
demonstration  you'll  never  forget.  There's  no  obligation. 
Write  today  for  literature  and  the  name  of  the  bonded  dealer 
in  your  neighborhood. 


HEALTH-MOR,  INC. 

203  N.  Wabash  Ave.,  Chicago  I,  lllinoit 

I  would  like  to  receive  the  large,  metal  waste  paper  basket  free 
and  the  name  of  my  nearest  dealer.  I  understand  this  is  o  free 
gift  and  does  not  obligate  me  in  any  way  to  buy. 


NAME  

ADDRESS. 
PHONE  


(Pleise  Print) 


City 


_STATE_ 


(Continued  from  Page  190) 
At  least,  she  had  thought,  /  can  amount  to 
something.  I'm  not  just  a  girl,  I'm  human.  I 
can  stay  human. 

But  the  girls  she  had  found  were  as  pretty 
as  the  ones  that  she  had  left.  Their  clothes 
were  plainer  and  smarter,  they  used  rouge 
less  and  lipstick  more,  their  talk  sounded 
more  like  clever  people  in  books,  but  that 
was  all.  She  had  looked  around  the  dining 
room,  searching  for  the  Northern  old  maids, 
the  foredoomed  spinsters,  and  found  not 
one. 

Places  are  all  the  same,  she  thought.  You 
don't  get  out  of  anything  by  running  away. 

Her  senior  adviser  was  a  stylish  girl  called 
Sue;  she  was  kind,  as  the  girls  at  Briargrove 
had  been  kind,  but  when  the  meal  was  over 
Rose  had  said  to  her,  "I  got  a  headache 
from  that  old  train.  Is  it  all  right  if  I  just 
go  and  lie  dowTi?" 

An  liour  later  she  went  into  the  bathroom 
aad  closed  the  door  of  a  cubicle.  She  was 
lying  in  her  tub  when  the  two  girls  came  in. 

"What's  your  freshman  like,  Gin?" 

"Oh,  Sue,  she's  ghastly.  A  little  number 
from  Lynn,  or  Lowell  or  somewhere,  all 
bangles.  How's  yours?" 

"Heaven.  From  this  huge  plantation  in 
Mississippi,  and  just  like  something  out  of  a 
book.  Her  voice  " 

"A  Southern  belle,  eh?" 

"Not  exactly.  A  sheltered  exotic.  Slender, 
masses  of  wonderful  hair  in  a  knot.  Native 
dress,  of  course,  rouge  and  ruffles,  but  I  can 
fix  that  tactfully." 

"Sounds  like  a  potential  killer." 

"All  that.  Intelligent  too." 

"Oh,  dear,  I  envy  you.  Mine  will  prob- 
ably go  right  out  and  pick  up  a  feeble- 
minded shoe  clerk  somewhere." 

And  the  door  closed  behind  them. 

Rose  carrington  lay  in  the  warm  tub  and 
shut  her  eyes.  She  had  not  known  that 
standards  of  beauty  vary  from  place  to 
place,  or  from  period  to  period.  Poor  little 
skinny  thing  with  that  straight  hair.  .  .  . 
Slender,  masses  of  wonderful  hair  in  a  knot. 

She  got  out  of  the  tub  and  began  to  dry 
herself.  She  was  quite  pale,  and  her  eyes 
looked  twice  their  normal  size.  After  a  few 
moments  she  spoke,  under  her  breath. 

"A  couple  of  plain  sweaters,"  she  whis- 
pered. "A  sort  of  beige  one,  like  Sue  has." 

And  suddenly,  under  her  breath,  she  began 
to  cry. 

"Oh,  please,  God,"  she  whispered,  over 
and  over,  "oh,  please,  God,  please  .  .  . 
please  " 

And  it  had  all  happened  three,  almost 
four  years  ago,  and  except  when  she  went 
home  for  vacations,  she  could  hardly  re- 
member it. 

"  I  used  to  be  a  terribly  shy  little  girl,"  she 
once  said. 

"You  must  have  been,"  returned  her 
crony,  Karen,  grinning.  "I  remember  you 
on  our  first  date,  shy  as  a  queen." 

And  how  could  she  explain  what  had  once 
been  without  destroying  what  now  was? 

She  had  not  become  the  most  popular  girl 
in  her  dormitory.  Karen,  eventually,  was 
that.  But  there  were  always  presentable, 
nice  boys,  three  or  four  on  tap  at  a  time, 
usually,  for  concerts  and  theaters,  dancing, 
walks  by  the  river,  long  talk  over  restaurant 
tables.  At  first  it  was  hard  to  believe  in.  The 
first  time  she  went  home  for  vacation,  the 
time  away,  the  new  time  was  like  a  dream, 
and  when  the  Archer  kinfolk  came  to  coax 
her  over  to  Wateroaks  for  the  Christmas 
dance,  she  pretended  to  be  sick. 

But  in  the  spring,  it  was  Charleswood  and 
Wateroaks  that  had  become  the  dream.  She 
was  affectionate  with  papa  and  Aunt  Lila 
now,  as  she  had  never  been,  kissing  them 
good  night  as  a  grown  woman  might  kiss  an 
old  doll,  long  forgotten  and  found  in  an 
attic.  The  very  static  meaninglessness  of 
their  lives,  the  incessant,  undramatic  drink- 
ing, the  vague  words  and  vague  silences,  had 
become  strange,  like  something  in  a  book 
that  she  read  without  shock  or  censure. 

And  when  Aunt  Belle,  dove-voiced  and 
fluttering,  came  to  ask  her  to  a  dance  once 
more,  it  was  only  a  part  of  the  same  story. 


fOR  $/lQ 

Only  ^ 


5 


that  does  dishe 
faster  and  easie 
than  models 
costing  $300! 


rpHiNK  of  it!  Now  You  can  ow^ 
dishwasher  for  only  $49.50- 
dishwasher  that  actually  gi 
your  dishes  done  in  LESS  TIR 
than  others  selling  for  $300-$* 
— or  more. 

•3 

Hard  to  believe?  Not  wheny] 
consider  these  facts:  \ 

When  you  use  an  ordinary  dii 
washing  machine,  you  must  fi 
scrape  the  dishes — get  them, 
clean  as  possible.  Many  times  y 
even  have  to  rinse  them  unde 
faucet.  In  other  words,  you  hf 
to  go  through  certain  prelimin; 
steps  before  you  put  your  dial 
in  the  machine. 

But  now... with  the  new  ar 
revolutionary  Dishmaster, 
the  time  you  complete  these  "p 
liminary"  steps — YouK  Disf 
Are  Washed!  Your  dishes  spar 
.  .  .  your  silver  and  glasswi 
gleam  .  .  .  pots  and  pans  sh 
easily  and  quickly,  and  far  m 
brightly  than  when  washed 
ordinary   machine  metho> 
What's  more,  you  don't  soak  yi 
hands — you  hardly  get  themw! 

Yet  this  amazingly  effect] 
new  type  of  dishwasher  costs  y| 
only  $49. 50... saves  you  litera 
hundreds  of  dollars!  | 

Dishmaster  can  be  installed 
any  kind  of  kitchen — modern  i 
old-fashioned — large  or  small. 


SEND  FOR 

FREE 

BOOKLET 

Mail  Coupon  Today! 


GERITY-MICHIGAN  CORPORATION 

Dept.E-1, 1  0  S.  Superior  Street 
Toledo  4,  Ohio. 

Gentlemen:  Please  send  me  free  CO] 
"Dishwashing  the  Easy  Way" 


Name   

Address   

Citv..__  


.Zone.. 


..State.. 


I    \  I)  I  I 


II     <*     M  I 


K    I  SSI  (I  loi  llic  c-vi'ri:iin  caiclully  Imi 
II    iisly.  Till'  (Iri'ss  was  while,  nirdli'd  al 
h    III  llic  IR'W  style  thai  was  so  cruel 
I  he  very  slender,  and  it  was  very 

/  /////(/>■  /■;;/  a  freak,  slu'  thoiiniit.  And 
I  nuillt  r. 

■iniiniH'red  llie  routed  cheeks  and 
lie,  rosebud  ix)uts  that  were  worn  by 

al  l5rlar^;rovl•,  and  d(  lil)erately  used 
.'-up  except  for  tiie  white  nose  and 

brilliant  moulh  ol  the  inctroixih 
th. 

i  iris  were  just  as  she  rcnicnihtu  d 
ul  they,  loo,  were  part  ol  the  lKx)k. 
'ere  overdressed  and  lluttery.  The 
)wever,  looked  like  lK)ys  anywhere. 
>a(l,  she  tliounht  (|uielly.  and  with  no 
personal  failure,  llial  Ihi  v  icun'l  ask 
ince. 

Cousin  juslin  was  sl.indiiu',  before 


le.-' 

I  ot  up. 

^.e  bin  steps, 

Just  to  the 
I  lie  music. 
I  •  only  way 

d  to." 

without  con- 
effect,  she 
c  loser  in  his 


had  gone 
iiile  way  be- 
e\-  were  cut 
1  And  then. 

ird  the  end 
cvenini^  she 
of  them  lake 
o  the  shad- 
-.ivl  of  the  ve- 

se  " 

ihewas  funny 

iissing.  It  was 
!it  she  had  not 
t  it,  from  the 
I  ne  it  had  hap- 
but  thai  she 
felt  that  she 

like  it  more 

omeone  else. 

,  always,  as 
imagined  it 
if  you  were 

a  with  some- 

d  being  kissed 

tranger. 
'  — "  She  hes- 

1  ise ,  please  — "  ' 
was  ashamed. 

ave  him  her  cold,  unresponding  lips. 
iu're  not  like  that  .  .  .  cold.  .  .  .  Look, 
you've  got  someone  back  up  there  you 
aven't  you?" 
-I  .  .  .  yes." 

should  have  known.  I'm  sorry.  You're 

bly  sweet  girl.  Rose." 

lank  you,  Carroll.  I  like  you." 

there  was  nobody.  There  were  always 
but  there  was  nobody,  really,  until  the 
ling  of  her  senior  year,  when  she  met 
He  wasn't  handsome,  his  hps  and  his 
vere  too  flat,  his  red  hair  too  wild  and 
He  wasn't  very  tall,  or  very  clever;  but 
inute  she  looked  at  him  the  world  was 
ed  because  she  had  never  known  him 
:,  and  now  she  did.  And  she  knew,  with- 
aestion,  that  it  was  so  for  him  too. 

knew  before  he  drew  her  onto  another 
veranda,  the  little  porch  of  the  frater- 
house,  and  said,  just  as  the  boy  at 

roaks  had  said,  "  Rose  .  .  .  Rose  " 

uss?  " 

t  she  kept  herself  stubbornly  turned 
,  refusing  to  believe  in  the  moment,  the 
Dlessed  moment  that  the  weeping  child 
Briargrove,  the  lost  and  buried  girl 
n  her,  had  known  would  never  come, 
ose  ...  oh,  darling  ...  oh,  beautiful." 
en  she  kissed  him,  and  it  was  no  longer 
aeing  in  love  with  someone  else  and 
ing  herself  to  be  kissed  by  a  stranger. 


BARGAIN! 

Here's  II  pleiiKiire-packed  eoiiilii- 
iitllioii  ofTcr  which  l>riii<:H  you 

LADIES'  HOME  JOURNAL 
HOLIDAY 

THE  SATURDAY  EVENING  POST 

for  one  yeur  eiirh  al  a  Haviiif;  of 

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Yes,  you  can  have  ihese  ihree  top 
favorites  delivered  ri-jhl  lo  your 
home  for  a  full  year  for  ihe  har<;aiii 
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extended  at  this  i>ar<:ain  price! 

To  order,  use  the  haiuly  order 
form  hound  in  nearly  every  copy 
of  this  issue.  Be  suro  to  lake  ad- 
vantage of  this  bargain  offer 
NOW— mail  your  order  TODAY! 

(All  three  must  go  to  same 
family  at  same  address) 

This  offer  good  until  April  30, 1953, 
in  U.  S.  and  Canada  only. 


"And  I  heard  you  were  a  cold  |K)I:iI.i  "  I,.- 
said.  The  wordn  were  a  Hlux  k 

"You    you  talked  alxnit  niey" 

"  I'Vllows  do.  Oh.  Htm:,  it  doewi'l  matter 
Nothing  before  iIuh  minute  malterh 
Rose  " 

And  she  knew  that  he  wuh  ri((ht. 

They  would  Ije  married  when  colle«f  wan 
over.  He  had  a  little  money,  not  much  but 
en()u^;h  to  tide  them  over  until  he  \iit\  a  )ol) 

I  le  was  a  ehemual  engineer,  with  no  inter- 
esi  m  the  liooks  and  the  pictures  and  music 
that  meant  so  much  to  her.  And  she,  lor  her 
part,  t(K)k  no  share  in  his  absorption  in  world 
affairs. 

"C<x)lidKe  is  crazy  to  play  ball  with  that 
guy  Mussolini  Ihe  way  he  d(xs.  I.eaviiiK 
right  and  wronnoul  of  it.  it's  bad  biisiiiess." 

"  It  is?" 

Hut  she  woukl  lind  herself  simply  l(X)kinK 
al  iimi.  marveling  al  his  face,  his  shoulders. 

his  hands,  forget- 
ting lo  listen. 

They  had  noth- 
ing in  common, 
really,  but  the  in- 
tenseand  highly  |H-r- 
sonali/ed  (|uality  of 
their  desire.  They 
lacked  even  Ihe  gen- 
tle, probing,  per- 
sonal interest  com- 
mon to  most  lovers. 
She  knew  thai  he 
came  from  a  Middle 
Western  suburb,  he 
knew  that  she  came 
from  a  plantation. 
That  was  all. 

"Our  folks  will  be 
horrified  by  each 
other,"  she  said. 

"Sounds  likely." 
And  then,  al  once, 
■■^'ou  have  the 
straightest  little  fin- 
gers I  ever  saw." 

They  were  hap- 
piest together  in  the 
country.  They  had 
a  phrase  taken  from 
a  nursery  classic 
that  she  had  loved 
in   childh(x)d.  the 
talc  of  Jemima  Pud- 
dleduck.  When  they 
had  walked  until 
they  were  tired,  they 
would  say,  "Let  us 
look  for  a  conven- 
ient, dry  nesting 
I     place."  Then,  in  a 
'     sheltered  corner, 
safe  from  the  wind 
and  the  world's  eye,  they  would  sit,  side  by 
side  and  face  to  face,  as  in  an  old-fashioned 
love  seat,  lips  and  breasts  together,  their  eyes 
closed,  the  world  contracted  to  an  awareness 
of  moving  hands  and  lips. 

Sometimes  they  would  kiss  to  the  point  of 
anger,  of  weary  staleness. 

"Why  do  you  feel  you've  got  to  hold  out 
on  me?  You  don't  want  to  yourself.  We'll  be 
married  in  June,  what's  the  difference?" 

"Oh,  Russ,  please  don't  make  it  harder 
for  me.  Russ,  I  love  you  so." 

Sometimes  they  would  walk  home  rigid 
and  silent  with  anger,  wide  apart  on  the 
road.  Sometimes  she  would  weep,  and  the 
tears  would  shock  him  to  a  new  helplessness, 
so  that  they  found  themselves  once  more 
kissing,  kissing  through  a  new,  blind  soft- 
ness of  wonder  to  a  new  anger  and  staleness. 

They  had  still  another  source  of  quarrel- 
ing. 

"Don't  let's  tell  anybody  yet,"  she  would 
say.  "Our  families,  our  friends,  anybody." 

"But  why?  I  want  to  do  things  properly, 
get  you  a  ring  and  all.  Why?" 

"Not  yet,  Russ.  I  like  it,  secret  like  this. 
Not  yet." 

"But  why?" 

She  could  not  tell  him  why.  She  did  not 
know.  She  only  knew  that  often,  at  night, 
she  dreamed  that  she  was  in  Charleswood, 
or  at  Briargrove,  and  that  the  hem  was  torn 


"MY 

DISflMASTER 

IS  AN  ALL-STAR 
PERFORMER! 

. .  .applands 

CONRAD  NAGEL 


"IF  YOU'RE  LIKE  MOST  MEN"  says  Ck>nrad  Nagel,  "you  like  to  make  dish- 
washing as  simple  as  possible.  1  lial's  why  you'll  go  for  a  Dishmaster  in  a  big  way — 
as  I  do!  No  dishpan,  no  soaking  hands.  You  can  do  the  biggest  dishwashing 
job  with  your  jacket  on — in  no  time  flat — Dishmaster  costs  only  S49.50! 


"EASY?  Dishes  come  sparkling  clean  in  a 
jiffy  with  Dishmaster.  Just  press  the  button 
for  aeratetl  suds,  release  for  rinsing  spray!" 


"GLASSES  AND  SILVER  arc  cas>  to  »3$h 
too.  Dishmaster  is  just  right  for  hard-to- 
get-at  places.  Fits  any  sink."' 


"POTS  AND  PANS?  They're 
easy — Dishmaster  cleans  easily  and 
quickly  like  magic ! " 


■just  fill  ouf  coupon  foday!  1 


BOO 


GERITY-MICHIGAN  CORPORATION 

Dept.  N.  Merchandising  Division 

10  South  Superior  St.,  Toledo  4,  Ohio 

(ientlemen:  Please  send  me  free  copy  of 
"Dishwasfiing  the  Easy  Way" 


Addr 


.StaU_ 


194 


1,   A    n    I    E    S  '       H    O    M    K       .1    f)    I     I!    \    \  I, 


April,  I'j 


MILLIONS  PREFER  ITS  MAGIC  — SEE  THIS  WONDERFUL 

DEMOMSrRATED  AT 

stamlev  wo^tes^  parties 


Women  shop  at  more  ilian  12,000  Sianley  Pur. 


ach  clay. 


To  KNOW  how  effectively  Stanley 
Furniture  Cream  restores  beauty  to 
dull  furniture  you  don't  have  to  buy  it 
and  take  it  home  to  try  it.  Before  you 
piirehase,  you  can  see  a  Stanley  Dealer 
at  a  STANLEY  Hostess  Party  demonstrate 
this  "Aristocrat"  of  furniture  creams 
under  actual  use  conditions.  You  can 
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the  way  it  cleans  and  protects  furniture 
as  it  polishes  the  surfaces  easily,  quick- 
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On  your  own  furniture,  you'll  find  it 
leaves  a  hard,  dry,  long-lasting  finish. 


is  truly  "super"  for  chasing  fingerprints, 
grease  spots,  soot  films  and  for  resisting 
water  and  other  liquids.  You,  too,  will 
like  it  best! 

A  STANLEY  PARTY  IS  LOTS  OF  FUN 

Women  do  like  to  enjoy  themselves  with 
friends  at  a  Stanley  Party.  And  these 
practical  shopping  Parties  are  so  easy  to 
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small.  To  arrange  for  your  own  Stanley 
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your  nearest  Stanley  home  products 
Branch  Office,  or  communicate  direct  with 
Stanley's  Home  Office  in  Westfield,  Mass. 


Originators  of  the  Famous 

Stanley  Hostess  Party  Plan 


STANHQME  \  Stanley  Home  Products,  Inc.,  Westfield,  Mass. 

Stanley  Home  Products  of  Canada,  Ltd.,  London,  Ontario 


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STANLEY  LEADS  with  150  QUALITY  PLUS  Products  featured  at  Stanley  Hostess  P:.rties: 
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of  other  attractive  items  lo  improve  the  family's  grooming. 


A  iraitrc- 


from  her  dress,  or  that  she  had  spilled  ink  on 
herself,  and  that  everyone  was  laughing  at 
her,  laughing.  And  she  would  wake,  pos- 
>-essed  anew  by  that  wild,  irrational  feeling: 
that  so  long  as  love  was  secret,  it  was  safe; 
but  that  if  it  were  discovered,  something 
w  ould  happen  to  separate  them. 

She  even  continued,  in  spite  of  his  protests, 
U)  go  out  with  other  men.  But  Karen  would 
not  go  on  foursomes  with  Russ. 

"Not  that  darned  redheaded  engineer," 
she  said.  "He's  a  bore.  What  do  you  see  in 
him,  Rose?" 

And  because  it  was  secret,  it  was  safe. 

"  What  do  you  think,  ducky?  We  go  out  in 
the  country  and  study  nature." 

"Oh,  Rose,  you're  shameless." 

"Ain't  I,  just?" 

Shortly  before  the  Christmas  holidays  she 
went  to  a  party  given  by  some  friends  who 
shared  a  study  in  a 
Harva-d  dormitory. 

"Just  records,  and 
a  couple  of  bottles  of 
Dago  red  I  sneaked 
out  of  the  North 
End,  and  a  stale  gin- 
gersnap  or  two." 

"Music  with  wine 
and  gingersnaps? 
Jim,  it's  a  date." 

She  knew  all  the 
boys  in  the  study  but 
one,  a  tall,  thin,  si- 
lent young  man ; shy 
but  rather  attractive, 
she  thought,  in  an 
odd,  individual  way. 
A  long  face,  and  ex- 
tremely large,  green- 
brown,  mottled  eyes 
under  curious,  too 
heavy  lids.  The  color 
of  his  hair  was  like 
wet  sand ;  coarse  hair, 
with  a  hard,  springy 
curl,  but  clipped  close 
and  brushed  hard. 

Riiss  ivoiild  look 
nice  will!  his  hair  like 
that,  she  thought, 
idly;  but  he  wouldn't 
l)e  bothered. 

The  young  man, 
however,  did  not  ap- 
pear to  notice  her. 
He  only  bowed  his 
head  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  her  name  and 
looked  away .  His 
name  she  forgot  at 
once. 

They  played  a 
Brandenburg  first, 
and  the  Mozart  clar- 
inet quintet.  She  was 
happy.  She  sat  re- 
la.\ed  and  smiling, 
the  toes  of  one  foot 
curling  in  her  shoe. 

"And  now,"  said  Jim,  "Beethoven,  Opus 
One-thirty-one.  Prepare  to  meet  thy  God." 

The  first  notes  of  the  opening  fug  le  spoke, 
and  her  face  changed.  It  was  music,  and  it 
was  more  than  music.  It  was  a  statement,  a 
grave  astonishing  statement.  But  of  what? 
She  did  not  know.  It  is  this,  the  music  said, 
to  be  alive;  this  is  the  meaning  of  our  jour- 
ney between  birth  and  death.  But,  this? 
What  is  this?  She  sat  forward,  struggling, 
intent. 

But  the  music  went  on  and  on.  It  was  too 
involved,  too  difficult.  At  last,  it  was  simply 
too  long.  She  leaned  back  m  her  chair,  con- 
scious of  the  falsity  of  her  own  face,  frozen, 
now,  in  its  first  spontaneity  of  intent  lis- 
tening. 

And  then  her  eyes  fell  on  the  shy  young 
man ;  and  she  saw  to  her  surprise  that  he  was 
remarkably  attractive,  almost  beautiful.  The 
heavy  lids  were  lifted,  the  too  large,  mottled 
eyes,  at  once  brilliant  and  grave,  were  like 
the  eyes  of  a  saint  in  ecstasy. 

For  an  instant  she  stared  at  him,  and  then 
she  averted  her  eyes,  with  an  uncomfortable 


7«7 


of  ihr  Duvnl  Rt'sliiiirnnt  • 

Remoir 
(]ol:  Stephen  C.  Clark 

ONCE  IN  A  LIFETIME 


Visitors  to  New  York  interested  in  see- 
ing paintings  which  Rockefellers,  Harri- 
mons,  Lewisohns,  Marshall  Fields,  Whit- 
neys  like  to  have  in  their  own  homes  will 
be  given  the  opportunity  during  an  ex- 
hibition of  "Collectors'  Choice"  paintings, 
March  1  7  to  April  1  8,  at  the  Paul  Rosen- 
berg Gallery,  16  East  57th  Street.  Ad- 
mission 60  cents. 

Artists  include  Renoir,  Picasso,  Dau- 
mier,  Matisse,  Van  Gogh,  Morisot, 
Braque,  Cezanne,  Degas,  Gauguin. 
Many  pictures  never  on  public  view  be- 
fore. 

Proceeds  go  to  the  Public  Education 
Association. 


feeling  of  shame,  as  if  she  had  spied  up! 
him  naked. 

And  then  it  was  over  and  Jim  was  waitii] 
smiling  like  the  magician  with  silk  hat 
one  hand  and  rabbit  in  the  other. 

"It's  wonderful,"  she  said  honestly, 
it's  too  hard,  it's  beyond  me.  After  half 
hour  or  so  I  couldn't  really  listen." 

"You'll  try  again.  It  takes  time." 

"How  did  you  find  out  about  it?" 

Oliver."  He  jerked  his  head  toward 
tall  young  man,  and  she  followed  his  eyij 
However,  she  barely  noticed  him.  She 
thinking,  again,  about  the  music. 

"You  know,"  she  said,  "it  was  queer, 
I  kept  feeling  that  if  I  could  get  it,  it  woi| 
take  in  what  art  always  leaves  out  .  .  . 
know,   headaches,   little  frustrations, 
hour-to-hour  part  of  being  alive.  As  if| 
made  it  all  fit  in  .  .  .  everything." 

The  large,  mottl? 
eyes  of  the  qui' 
young  man  lifted  a 
looked  at  her 
tently.  He  lifted  1, 
head  as  if  he  w( 
about  to  speak.  Thj 
his  face  closed.  ; 

"Give  me  a  cig 
rette,  Jim."  he  sa! 
' '  I  must  have  smok 
my  last." 

It  was  the  or 
thing  that  she  hea 
him  say  during  t 
afternoon. 

Russ  came  eai' 
the  next  afternoc 
He  was  taking  t 
midnight  for  Cf 
cago,  going  home  ti 
Christmas. 

"What  weath<' 
Raw,  fog.  Not  a  cc' 
venient  dry  nesti 
place  left  above  t 
equator." 

"Why  don't  we 
in  to  the  art  rr 
se'um?" 

"  I  hate  museurr 
Full  of  pictures.' 

"Oh,allright."£ 
laughed,  singiri 
"  Take  your  ^irlieVf; 
the  movies,  when  yt 
can't  make   love  ! 

home  " 

He  shrugged,  U 
face  suddenly  angl.' 

"What  isit,  Ru;^' 
Dear?" 

"You  know.  I  ; 
got  a  warm  rooj, 
a   landlady   w  i 
doesn't  mind  — 
"Oh.Russ.pleasr' 
"Have  it  your  om 
way."  ^ 
They  sat  throuii 
the  movie,  erect  and  apart.  Afterwa 
neither  of  them  could  have  told  what  it  li^ 
been  about. 

"It's  too  early  for  dinner,  not  six  yet." 
"Let's  eat  anyway,  Russ.  I  didn't  ha^ 
much  lunch." 
The  meal  went  slowly. 
"Russ,  I  heard  the  strangest  piece 
music,  yesterday." 

"What  do  you  mean,  strange?" 

"I  don't  know.  It  was  a  Beethoven  qu; 

tet  " 

"Strange  is  good!" 
And  there  didn't,  after  all,  seem  to 
anything  that  you  could  say  about  it.  Tha 
didn't,  really,  seem  to  be  much  of  anythil 
to  say  about  anything.  For  the  first  time  s 
found  herself  thinking  the  thought  that  s 
had  never  let  herself  think. 

We  haven't  anything  in  common,  except  ti 
we  love  each  other.  We'll  never  have  anythi 
in  common,  as  long  as  we  live,  anything.  . 

"Russ,"  she  said;  and  her  voice  was  shai 
almost  shrewish,  and  as  if  she  were  sayi 
anything  but  the  words  she  actually  sa 
"  Russ  .  .  .  look. ...  If  you'll  understand  tl 


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I 


It  s  jusi  the  s.-imc  as  if  we  were  (iiitdodi , 
tlial  it's  mi  difltTeiit  . 
we  can'l 

"Wiial?"  lie  stared 
••Uliat?" 

"Kiiss  .  .  .  ni  liat 
i!.<>  up  to  your  nxim." 

lie  l«K)ked  at  lier.  lie  Hiiiikd. 
"  Thank  you,  Kose,  Il  will  Ix-  :ill  ri(jlil.  I 
|)romisi\" 

She  jell  as  if  ihe  air  were  full  of  sun.  She 
fell  gentle  and  setnre.  It  didn't  mailer  llial 
Ihey  couldn't  talk  lo  each  other.  People 
don'l  talk  alxnit  siiliinis.  when  they're  mar- 
led. 'I  hey  talk  alKiiil  hie,  day  lotlay,  Kvery- 
thiiiK  was  all  iikIiI. 

/■//  /(  //  Kan  II  uIhiiiI  ns  lnuivjil.  she  I  lioii^ht . 
/■//  n  riti  lit  lui/xi.  I  t,  hirn  sii  silly  .  .  .  silly. 

She  rose  to  her  feet  atifl  liekl  out  her  hand, 
lauiihini;. 

"Come  on  then,"  she  sjiid.  "Next  Hlop, 
convenient,  dry  nesting  place." 

They  went  into  the  ifKHii  and  sluil  the 
dtx)r.  It  was  i)are  and  small,  a  cot,  a  desk,  a 
sliai.nht  chair,  an  unshatled  hull)  li,iiu'iiu' 
from  till'  ci  iliiit;. 

Sill,  looked  around,  shaking  her  head.  "Mv, 
my,  what  a  little  liomemaker  you  are!" 

Then  she  turned,  liMikiuK  for  a  place  lo  put 
iier  coat,  and  saw,  with  a  start  of  sur|)rise 
and  pleasure,  the  picture  on  the  wall  helmul 
her. 

"Oh,"  she  cried.  "The  nude  Maja!  .And 
so  bill,  and  in  color.  How  lovely,  when'  did 
you  Kcl  her?" 

He  Hushed, 

"\\m  like  it?  He  darned,  you're  such  a 
strait-laced  little  sfimeliody,  I  thought  it'd 
shock  you." 

"Shock  me?  Cloya?" 

She  loved  i)ictures.  She  turned  auain  lo 
the  voluptuous  richness,  the  Maja  lyint;  on 
her  .ureal,  rulllcd  cushion,  .And  suddenly  she 
saw  it  as  Russ  saw  it,  ihe  innocent  i)leasuie 
none.  She  felt  herself  Ihin  and  sexless,  mea.tjer. 
W  hen  she  turned  hack  he  saw  the  chan.tje  in 
her  face. 

"Chaniied  your  mind?  You  said  yourself 
it's  by  a  famous  painter." 
She  swallowed. 

"Russ.  do  you  wish  I  looked  like  that?" 
He  burst  into  a  roar  of  lau.nhler,  k)ud  with 
relief. 

"lie  darned,  you're  jealous!  Jealous  of  a 
picture!" 

"Russ,  it's  only  only  .  .  .  that  I 
want 

But  she  did  not  know  how  to  say  it:  only 
that  I  want  lo  be  ererytliiiiii  a  man  could  want, 
ereryiliiiiii  I'm  always  afraid  I'm  nol. 

"You  don't  want  enough,  that's  your 
trouble." 

Her  face  worked. 

At  once,  he  was  kind, 

"Don'l  worry,  darlin,^,  I  like  'em  skinny 
too.  ,'\nd  you  don't  feel  skinny.  You  feel 
soft.  Rose    -  -" 

And  suddenly  he  had  reached  up  and 
turned  off  the  li.uht. 

But  the  other  dark,  the  inner  dark  of  their 
love-makin.u  would  not  come.  She  could  feel 
nothing  but  an  emptiness  of  self-doubt.  She 
tried  to  hide  it  from  him,  letting  herself  go 
soft  in  his  arms,  openin.y  her  lips  as  she  had 
never  done  before.  She  felt  him  respond  to 
her.  After  a  time  she  felt  him  drawing  the 
pins  from  the  knot  on  her  neck,  stroking  the 
heavy  fall  from  temple  to  waist. 

"So  very  long,"  lie  said,  over  and  over, 
softly.  "So  much,  so  soft.  I  never  dreamed , . . 
wonderful    — " 

Then  she  was  strug,gling  against  him. 

"Rose,  you've  got  to.  You  kissed  mc  like 
that,  you  let  me  take  your  hair  down. 
Rose  .  .  .  Rose  " 

But  he  had  become  completely  strange  to 
her  and  she  struggled  against  him  in  real 
terror. 

He  s  forgotten  it's  me.  she  thought.  Anyone. 
I  could  he  anyone.  A  girl  he'd  picked  up  in  Ihe 
street  and  would  never  want  lo  see  again.  I 
could  be  hideous  .  .  .  old  

She  wrenched  and  slipped  from  him  and 
found  the  lamp  on  the  desk. 

They  looked  at  each  other,  dull-eyed, 
white-faced,  .After  a  little,  without  a  word, 
she  stoojicd  and  ])ickcd  up  the  scattered  pins 


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and  wound  her  hair  back  into  its  knot.  The 
sleeve  of  her  dress  had  torn  at  the  shoulder 
as  she  pulled  away.  She  put  on  her  coat. 

He  was  the  first  to  speak,  his  voice  per- 
fectly flat. 

"You  know,  there's  an  extremely  dirty 
word  for  girls  who  start  something  they  don't 
intend  to  finish." 

"Is  there?"  Her  voice  was  lifeless  as  his 
own. 

She  turned  to  the  door  and  opened  it. 

He  let  her  go  into  the  corridor  and  start 
down  the  steps  before  he  made  a  motion.  But 
then  he  hurried  toward  her  and  she  thought 
that  she  was  forgiven.  However,  he  had  only 
followed  to  strike  the  final  blow. 

"I  had  you  completely  wrong,"  he  said. 
"You're  half-alive,  that's  what's  the  matter 
with  you.  You  ought  to  go  into  a  convent 
where  }'ou'll  be  safe. 
A  convent  or  an  old 
maids'  home." 

And  he  went  back 
to  his  room  and  shut 
the  door. 

She  wrote  to  him 
once,  from  Charles- 
wood. 

It  was  only  a  thing 
that  happened.  I  got 
frightened.  Perhaps  it 
is  always  like  that  for 
men,  impersonal,  and  I 
was  wrong.  Please  see 
me  again  when  you 
come  back.  I  love  you, 
and  I  think  that  you 
love  me. 


COULD  YOU  SAY  IT  WITTIER? 

Edited  by  John  M.  Henry 

Three  Americans  out  of  every  five 
have  one  leg  longer  than  the  other, 
physicians  report.  That's  what  comes 
from  stepping  on  the  accelerator  in- 
stead of  the  brake.      —bud  nelson 

in  Lebanon,  Ohio,  Star 

Outlawing  all  atomic  weapons  would 
be  a  magnificent  gesture.  However, 
it  should  be  remembered  that  Gettys- 
burg had  a  local  ordinance  forbidding 
the  discharge  of  firearms. 


in  H 


-HOMER  O. 

met,  Califomit 


KING 

,  News 


His  own 
crossed  hers 
mail. 


letter 
in  the 


If  most  of  us  practiced  what  we 
preached,  we'd  work  our  fool  selves 
to  death.      — mary  louise  wright 

in  De  Witt,  Arkansas,  Ero-Enterprise 


At  eighteen  a  lad  wants  and  really 
expects  to  reform  the  whole  world; 
at  thirty  he  concentrates  on  his  own 
country;  at  forty,  on  his  state;  and  by 
the  time  he  is  sixty,  he  has  to  center 
his  efforts  on  himself  if  he's  going  to 

reach  eighty.  —GILES  FRENCH 

in  Moro,  Oregon,  Journal 

Most  women,  by  the  time  they  are 
old  enough  to  know  how  to  select  the 
right  man  for  a  husband,  have  been 
married  for  years. 

—CHARLES  KNOUSE 

in  Lindsborg,  Kansas,  News-Record 


Dear  Rose:  I  guess 
we  both  made  a  mis- 
take. As  I  think  back, 
I  see  you  sort  of  knew 
it  all  along,  the  way 
you  wouldn't  go  steady 
or  tell  anybody.  I'm 
sorry  for  the  things  I 
said  up  at  my  place,  it 
wasn't  your  fault,  you 
just  didn't  know  the 
score 

Anyway,  what  I'm 
trying  to  say  is  this.  I 
have  patched  things  up 
with  an  old  girl  out 
here.  She  has  been  very 
wonderful  about  under- 
standing that  I  sort  of 
got  off  my  track  out 
East.  We  have  a  great 
deal  in  common,  folks, 

upbringing  and  so  forth.  But  I  would  feel  very 
bad  about  this  if  I  wasn't  sure  that  you  won't 
much  care.  I  really  did  love  you.  Rose,  that's 
what  I  want  you  to  know,  I  loved  you  right  up 
to  almost  the  end.  Russ. 

One  of  the  field  hands  had  brought  the 
mail  up  from  the  road  and  given  it  to  her  as 
she  stood  alone  on  the  veranda.  She  read  the 
letter  through  slowly,  once,  and  then  tore  it 
across,  dropping  the  pieces  through  a  crack 
in  the  floor  boards. 

Then  she  stood  straight,  with  her  back 
against  one  of  the  big  white  pillars,  looking 
across  the  lawn,  across  the  plowed  bottom 
lands,  to  the  river.  She  stood  so  for  a  long 
time,  not  knowing  what  she  thought  or  felt. 

Then  her  lips  moved. 

"He  couldn't  love  me.  I  loved  him,  but  he 
couldn't  love  me."  And  then,  "Russ  .  .  . 

Russ  "  And  then,  quietly,  over  and  over, 

her  own  name.  "Rose  Carrington.  Rose  Car- 
rington  of  Charleswood." 

At  last  she  went  into  the  house,  into  her 
own  room,  and  looked  into  the  mirror. 

/  didn't  tell  anyone,  she  thought.  /  can  play 
backgammon  with  papa,  I  can  go  over  to 
Wateroaks.  I  can  go  back  when  vacation  is 
over,  and  I  will  be  all  right,  because  no  one  will 
ever  know. 

But  that  night  she  dreamed  again  that  she 
was  back  at  Briargrove,  the  hem  of  her  dress 
was  torn,  and  the  air  was  loud  with  laughter. 


It  was  not  until  she  had  come  back  to^ 
Cambridge  that  she  began  to  cry  for  Russ  atj 

night. 

And  the  year  pulled  forward  into  spring, 
Jim  was  nice.  She  saw  a  lot  of  Jim. 
"Rose,  do  you  remember  Oliver?" 
"Oliver,  Jim?" 

"You  met  him  once  last  winter,  over  at*} 
our  place.  We  were  playing  records."  | 
"Long  legs,  didn't  talk?" 
"The  very  one.  Look,  would  you  take  him 
on  for  a,  well,  not  blind,  a  highly  astigmati( 
double  date?" 

"Oh,  mercy,  Jim,  why?" 
"Because  ...  I  don't  know.  It's  a  huncl 
I've  got.  If  you  knew  him,  if  he  knew  you 
you'd  be  friends." 

She  laughed.  "Looked  that  way,  didn't  iti; 
Well,  O.K.  But  if  the  evening's  a  flop,  don 'it 
blame  me.  Who's  th( 
fourth,"  she  askeci 
him;  "Karen?" 

And  she  stood  b; 
the  bed,  in  her  slij 
and  dressing  gown 
fingering  the  dresi 
that  she  had  taken 
from  the  closet,  thi 
tunic,  blue  gray  anc 
silvery  green,  tha 
Russ  had  alway 
called  "your  sex 
dress." 

/  didn't  love  him  bt 
cause  I  was  afraid  t 
go  back  to  Cha  rleswooc 
she  thought.  /  imul 
have  loved  him  just  a 
much  if  I  had  nevei 
been  afraid  of  anyj 
thing.  ; 

But  for  the  firs 
time,  she  had  worj 
dered,  as  she  said  iii 
if  it  were  really  so. 

And  it  was  the 
that  one  of  the  girl 
called,  "Rose!  Ros| 
Carrington!  TeleJ 
phone!"  I 
The  voice  on  th; 
other  end  of  the  wiij 
was  deep  and  hesj 
tant.  ' 

"This  .  .  .  this 
Miss  Carrington?" 
"Yes." 

Then,  in  a  ruslj 
"This  is  0 1  i v fil 
Adams.  I'm  afraid  iti 
l^j^^^^m      off  for  this  evenin 

^  ^  Jim  tripped  on  a  ste] 

sprained  ankle.  Tl 
doctor's  strapped  it,  but  he's  got  to  keep 
up  for  a  few  days."  j 
"Oh,  what  a  shame.  Does  it  hurt  a  lot?J 

"  I  e.xpect  so.  Sprained  aiJiles  do.  Well  

She  could  tell  that  he  was  about  to  bar'' 
up.  She  spoke  suddenly,  impulsively.  "  Is  ' 
six,  then,  that  you  want  me  to  be  readyPr 

"I  .  .  .  why,  I  "  I 

"Had  you  made  plans?  Because,  look, 
don't  want  to  influence  you  or  anything,  bt 
the  Pro  Arte  Quartette  are  playing  in  Sa;  ( 
ders  Theater  tonight." 

"Then— then  I'll  come  around  at  six,  ; 
we  planned?" 
"Six  is  fine." 

And  she  hung  up  at  once,  before  he  cou 
collect  himself. 

"The  poor  thing,"  she  whispered,  turnii 
away.  "The  poor  thing.  He's  scared,  tl 
way  I  used  to  be." 

And  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  to 
the  letter  from  Russ  across  and  dropped 
bit  by  bit,  between  the  boards  of  the  v 
randa  at  Charleswood.  her  face  was  war 
and  bright  with  self-confidence.  She  thougl 
she  really  thought,  that  it  was  for  poor  Oliv 
Adams  that  she  was  happy. 

But  the  evening  was  awkward,  a  failu; 
The  dinner  dragged.  The  conversation  w 
all  on  her  side,  too  bright  and  forced.  E 
face  grew  stiff  with  the  effort  of  it,  and  afi 
a  time  she  began  to  hear  her  own  voice. 


MAKE  THE  FLATTERY        TEST !  That's  why  smart  women  insist  on  original 

Picturesque  Picture-Frame  Heel  Stockings.  In  luxury  sheer  nylon,  of  course. 

With  self -color  heel  $1.65.  With  Black,  Brown  or  Navy  heel  and  seam  $1.95. 

SANSON  HOSIERY  MILLS.  INC.  Sales  Office,  Empire  State  Building,  New  York  1,  N.  Y. 

Stocking  fashions  come  first  from  Sanson.  Makers  of  Regular  Heel,  Pleated  and  Designer  Stockings 

•Reg. 


'Trankly, 
I  detest 
ubstitutes 


Never  take  chances  with  your 
loved  one.  Insist  on  the  swab  with 
the  loiii^esl  record  of  safety .  .  . 
famous,  trustworthv  'Q-Tips\ 

Sterilized  right  in  the  package  by 
the  best  hospital  method. 

Gentle  care.  Sott,  pure  cotton 
swabs  at  both  ends;  can't  come 
loose  or  leave  lint. 

Doctors  know  best.  I'hey  use  and 
recommend  'Q -Tips'  more  than 
any  other  brand  of  swab! 


Try  this 
Hollywood 
beauty  tip 


4  t'- 


SUSP: 


Don't  envy  the  lilni  stars  -do  what  they 
do  :  apply  your  make-up  glamorously.  with 
■Q-Tips".  These  swabs  do  neater  jobs  so 
many  ways!  Use  them  to  apply  cuticle  oil, 
bleaches,  deodorants  ...  to  remove  nail 
polish,  smudges,  smears. 


The  original  cotton  swab  - 
in  the  famous  blue  box. 


<J-TIPS(5p. . .  M.ido  by  Q-Tips  Inc. .  Long  Island  Clly.N.Y. 


I       \     l>      I      I        -  II  II 

J  sound  Junla\lic,  hIic  tliuiinht  anKiil,  / 
sound  likf  u  desperate  old  maul,  trying  tu  caliii 
a  heau. 

She  avoided  lookitiK  at  him  lliroiiKli  the 
music,  and  after  it  watt  over  they  walked 
home  ra|)idly,  almoHl  withoul  a  word,  ;e,  il 
they  were  hurrying  lo  an  ennaKemetil  (oi 
which  they  nuiHl  not  be  laic, 

'■(;(M)d  niuht,"  (the  Haid  at  llie  door. 
"Tlitink  you  for  a  lovely  concert." 

"(iood  muht  ."  He  heHilaled  for  a  moment, 
as  if  liiere  were  somelhinK  more  liial  he 
wanted  to  say.  Hut  he  only  moisiened  Iiim 
lips,  said  once  more,  "Well,  koikI  ni«lil." 
and  walked  away. 

She  not  into  bed,  conscious  <»nly  of  a  weary 
exasperation.  Miil  liied  as  she  was,  slee|)did 
not  coiiM'. 

My  ki!.s  ache  .  I  ivondrr  ij  I'm  catrliinn 
Jill?  I  feel  as  if  I'd  been  lealkina,  Ihroiiuh  sand. 
Jim  and  his  hriuhl  ideas. 

It  was  almost  two  when  the  (ears  came  at 
last,  the  luxurious  tears  thai  washed  her  to 
sleep. 

"Oh,  Uuss,"  she  sohlM'd,  "Von  did  love 

inc.  Rnss,  \'t)\\  (lid  love  me." 

And  it  was  llu,  after  all.  Karen  bronv;iil 
aspirin,  magazines. 

"What  luck,  darlinK,"  she  said.  "What  a 

shame." 

"I  don't  know.  Il  feels  sort  of  nice.  now. 
VValery-weak,  and  sun  in  the  nxnn,  and  no 
need  lo  cope." 

"Weren't  you  ^join^  out  with  .|im  to- 
ni^rhl?" 

"Mis  ankle's  sprained.  Hut  look,  call  him 
for  me,  will  you,  and  tell  hini  I'm  dyini; 

l(K)?" 

In  the  late  afternoon,  a  maid  came  into  her 
r<x)m  with  a  Morisl's  box. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  Nellie." 

"Ah,  it's  Kreat  lo  be  younj;  and  it's  Kreal 
to  be  rich.  I  lold  Miss  Karen  lo  slop  by  in 
a  bit  and  see  can  she  j;el  the  rinht  size  of  a 
vase  from  somewhere." 

"It's  a  corsa,c;e  box,  of  all  Ihinns!"  Rose 
exclaimed. 

"He  expects  ye  lo  pin  it  on  your  night- 
gown and  die  in  style." 

Of  course,  it  was  from  Jim.  She  opened 
the  box,  smiling. 

It  was  not  a  corsage.  Lying  in  the  box 
was  a  miniature  sheaf  of  sweetheart  roses, 
gypsophila,  short  side  sprays  of  blue  del- 
phinium. 

She  drew  out  the  card. 

"For  heaven's  sake,"  she  said.  "Well,  for 
heaven's  sake." 

It  was  from  Oliver. 

"Thank  you  for  the  lovely  evening,"  it 
said.  "Please  get  well  soon.  Oliver  Adams." 

"Oh,"  she  said.  "Oh   " 

It  was  a  strange  little  half-rueful  sound 
that  caught  in  her  throat. 

The  afternoon  of  the  day  after  that  w'as 
warm  and  sunny.  And  Oliver  telephoned. 

'T've  got  hold  of  a  car  for  the  day.  Do 
you  feel  like  a  little  ride,  maybe  out  toward 
Lincoln?  It's  very  warm  and  we  needn't  go 
far." 

"Right  aw'ay.  I  feel  like  a  used  dishrag 
and  look  worse,  but  I'd  love  it." 

She  brushed  her  long  hair  and  knotted  it, 
smooth  and  soft. 

But  when  she  went  dowTi  into  the  hall 
and  found  him  waiting  he  stood  awkwardly; 
and  when  she  smiled  at  him  he  turned  away 
and  walked  down  the  steps  to  the  car  with 
no  more  than  a  vague  sound  of  greeting. 

Nor,  when  she  was  at  his  side,  when  she 
made  herself  talk,  did  he  seem  to  feel  it 
necessary  to  answ'er  in  more  than  the 
briefest  words. 

The  silences  were  not  comfortable.  Under 
them,  the  pleasant  lassitude  of  her  convales- 
cence changed  to  a  weak-nerved  excitement. 
She  heard  her  own  compulsive,  high-pitched 
cliatter  with  shame,  and  yet  she  could  not 
be  still. 

/  haven't  acted  like  this  for  years,  she 
thought.  This  is  how  I  would  have  acted  at 
Briar  grove,  if  anyone  had  been  fool  enough  to 
try  to  find  me  a  beau.  I  know  how  he  feels,  and 
I  can't  help  him.  He  brings  il  all  back  so. 

They  were  driving  slowly  when  they  passed 
the  old  house  that  looked  like  Charleswood 
and  \\  ateroaks,  an  old  white  house,  the  front 


M  I 


\ 


AN    EXCITING    NEW  CREAM 


GIVES   LONG    LIFE   TO   YOUR  BEAUTY 


tINES  AND  CREVICES 
seem  to  vanish 


PERKS  UP  StACKNESS 
of  tired,  tense  skin 


\  i\a  ran  do  more  for  \<)ii  in  a  liall  li<Mir  llian 
ever  dreamed  possible.  \  i\a  i.-*  fJtsorlx'il  i»\  tin 
skin — \  on  can  .-ee  anil  feel  tli<-  diffi  renre  after  one 
3()-miniile  a|)|i!ii  atioii.  \  i\a  i>  made  of  niaiiN  oiN 
ami  elemeiils  lo  help  hrin*;  loiij;  life  to  \  our  heaut\ . 

One  element  seems  to  fill  little  lines  and  crevires 
on  the  fare  and  neck  ...  to  help  them  vanish. 
\nolher  perks  up  llie  slackness  of  tired,  tense  skin. 
Siill  aiiolher  aids  to  restore  the  youthful  elastieit\ 
of  the  skin  .  .  .  makes  a  lifeless-looking  skin  ap{>ear 
to  ha\e  ncM  life. 

All  this  and  morel  The  elements  in  Viva  are  so 
combined  that  the  skin  is  soothed,  smoothed,  sof- 
tened. With  ^  iva  you  do  not  notice  dryness  or  flaki- 
ness  —  that  stiff,  dry,  wrinkled  feeling  disappears. 
Sensitive  skin  responds  to  its  soothing  cfTecls. 
Frances  Denney  promises  that  your  heaulN 
will  have  long  life  when  you  use  \  iva  faithfiillv. 

V50  plus  tax 


BRINGS  NEW  BEAUTY 
to  lifeless-looking  skin 


Sold  ill  ihv  cosiuciic  dcjxirinK'nl  of  fine  .stores,  or  nrile  Frances  Dennev,  Pliiludelpliia. 


198 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


April,  m 


not  a  care 


ill  the  world. . .  i7. 


7iylon 
jersey 


CAPTAIN  S  LADY  PRINT.  IN  NAVY.  TROPICAL 
GREEN,  STRAWBERRY.  OR  BROWN.  ON  WHITE 


lood  news  travels  fast! 
And  the  word  is  speeding  around  about 
slim,  trim,  Shelton  Strollers!  Today  is 
not  a  day  too  soon  for  you  to  discover  how 
delightfully  it  answers  your  questions  "What 
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Step  into  it  easily,  thanks  to  the 
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measured  in  ounces  ...  so  tightly  knit  you 
can't  see  through  it.  Alive  with  the 
spring-like  motion  that  smoothly  waves  wrinkles 
aside,  stays  ever-lovely,  washing  after  washing. 
•  Floats  along  ocean-fresh  all  day  long. 

Sizes  12  to  20, 141/2  to  221/2. 
Each  about 


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enclosed  in  the  two-story,  pillared  porch  of 
the  Greek  revival.  It  looked  as  if  nobody  had 
lived  in  it  for  a  long  time.  The  shutters  were 
closed,  and  on  either  side  of  the  tree-lined 
drive  the  lawns  had  become  tangled  meadows. 

"Oh,"  she  cried.  "Slow  down." 

"What  is  it?" 

"That  house,  that  old  house.  It  looks  like 
the  place  where  I  grew  up." 

He  drew  over  to  the  side  of  the  road. 

"Look  at  that  house,  Oliver.  Can't  you 
imagine  it  overlooking  the  cotton  fields  and 
the  cypress  swamps?  It  doesn't  belong  here." 

But  though  he  had  stopped  the  car  for 
her,  and  followed  her  glance  with  his  own 
eyes,  his  silence  was  so  odd,  so  intense,  that 
she  turned  her  head  sharply  to  look  at  him. 

"Oliver,  what  is  it?" 

"It's  odd  that  you  noticed  that  house," 
he  said  slowly.  "It's  odd  that  you  said  it 
was  like  yours." 

"Odd^  Why?" 

"Because  it  is  my  house.  I  grew  up  there. 
When  I've  failed  in  the  world,  I  shall  come 
back  to  it  and  live  here, 
with  a  cooking  pot  and 
a  barrel  of  beans." 

She  made  herself 
laugh.  "  Nonsense. 
Could  we  get  out? 
Could  we  walk  a  little?" 

"If  you  want  to." 

"  Don't  you  love  it?  " 

"My  mother  ran 
away  with  another  man 
when  I  was  about  two, 
my  father  died  sud- 
denly. I  think  he  killed 
himself.  I'm  not  sure. 
My  grandmother 
brought  me  up.  She 
played  solitaire,  and 
talked  to  herself  and 
read  me  the  more 
frightening  parts  of  the 
Bible.  I  couldn't  bring 
friends  home,  ever." 

He  got  out  of  the  car. 

"No,  I  don't  love  it. 
I  haven't  been  near  it 
for  years,  except  to 
drive  by  and  look  the 
other  way.  Come  on." 

He  had  come  around 
to  her  side  of  the  car 
and  opened  the  door. 

"The  lane's  in  too 
bad  shape  to  drive.  Are 
you  up  to  walking?" 

"Not  .  .  .  not  if  it 
will  make  you  uncom- 
fortable." 

"There's  a  little 
pond,  down  the  slope 
at  the  back.  I'd  like  to 
see  it  again.  Come  on." 

He  walked  slightly 
ahead  of  her  down  the 
avenue. 

"Yes,  when  I've  gone  out  into  the  world 
and  failed  there,  this  place  will  be  waiting." 

"Don't  talk  like  that."  she  said  sharply. 
Then  she  followed  him  in  silence,  her  head 
bent. 

Xhey  walked  slowly  around  one  wing  of 
the  house ;  they  passed  stables,  a  gingerbread 
summerhouse  with  a  cupola.  There  was  an 
overgrown  path  through  the  field,  down  the 
slope,  and  the  pond  lay  at  the  foot,  not 
sprawling  and  swampy,  as  she  had  expected, 
but  deep,  fed  and  drained  by  a  stream,  with 
pebbly  banks.  There  were  willows  around  it. 

"Oh,"  she  cried.  "What  a  lovely  place!" 

He  was  not  looking  at  her. 

"A  million  miles  from  the  house,  that's 
how  I  always  felt.  What  seas,  what  islands? 
Even  in  winter,  when  it  froze  over.  .  .  .  Not 
to  sail  boats  on,  not  to  skate  on,  you  under- 
stand. Just  here.  Mine." 

"I  used  to  go  down  to  the  cabins,  hke 
that.  I  used  to  sit  in  old  Aunt  Tizzie's  lap 
and  hear  the  singing.  It— it  was  like  a  sea." 

He  was  standing  behind  her,  and  suddenly 
she  was  aware  of  his  hand  on  her  shoulder. 
His  fingers  were  long  and  powerful.  She  looked 
down  at  his  hand  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
hardly  knowing  what  she  did,  she  dropped 


Smells 


d  i  i 


her  cheek  upon  it.  She  stood  still,  feeli 
his  fingers,  cold  and  slowly  warming  wi^ 
the  warmth  of  her  cheek. 

When  at  length  his  hand  moved, 
thought  that  he  would  turn  her  toward  hir 
that  he  would  kiss  her.  But  he  only  lookd 
at  his  watch  and  said,  "We  should  be  head 
ing  back,  shouldn't  we?" 

/  shouldn't  have  done  that,  she  though 
slowly.  He  didn't  want  me  to  do  that. 

She  nodded  her  head  and  started  at  ona 
slowly,  back  to  the  car.  On  the  way  hoi 
they  talked  about  music,  briskly,  too  brisk! 

"A  good  recording.  Jim  should  lend  it 
you.  You  heard  the  C  sharp  minor,  I 
member;  we  have  the  Budapest  records  c 
the  Crosse  Fuge,  now." 

Funny,  she  thought.  Funny.  Now  he's  Ih 
one  who's  sweating  to  let  no  ugly  silence  fal  >  ^^ 

! 

She  did  not  hear  from  him  again  for 
week.  He  called,  unexpectedly,  one  night  jus 
before  dinner.  It  was  an  unseasonably  sol 
evening,  like  full  sure 
mer. 

"Jim  says  you  lik 
to  walk  by  the  rivet 
Are  you  just  sittini : 
down  to  eat?  Could 
call  for  you  in  an  hour? " 

They  walked  down 
Sparks  Street  an^ij' 
headed  up  beside  the 
river   toward  Water 
town.  They  talked  eas^i '(, 
ily.  It  was  as  if  in  the, 
week  that  had  sepa 
rated  them,  they  had 
become    casual  oldl 
friends.  There  was  still 
a  little  evening  light  byi 
the  river,  and  the  air 
was  shrill  with  marshi 
peepers. 

"Look,  Rose,  come 
down  here.  I'll  show- 
you  my  place.  My  pri^^ 
vate  point  of  land 

They  sat  down,  sidt 
by  side.  She  looked 
at  him.  Handsome  eyes, 
she  thought,  idly.i 
Funny,  you  never  notice 
their  color,  that  mottled, 
bright  effect,  except 
when  he's  happy.  He's 
funny ;  a  difficult,  funny 
person.  Funny  houi 
last  week  I  ivas  letting 
myself  gel  ideas  about] 
him. 

The  air  was  soft.  A' 
vesper  sparrow  sang 
from  across  the  water. 
Russ  had  taught  her  so 
many  of  the  bird  songs. 
It  was  autumn,  she 
thought,  tvhen  I  used  to 
come  here  with  Russ.  Autumn,  the  sun  still 
warm,  the  leaves  falling.  A  convenient,  dry 

nesting  place  

And  suddenly,  silently,  she  began  to  cry. 
As  if  a  film  of  ice  had  melted,  as  if  a  barrier 
that  she  had  built  had  fallen  down,  she  re- 
membered Russ,  the  shape  of  his  head,  the 
feel  of  his  mouth.  If  there  had  never  been 
any  friendship,  what  did  it  matter?  Love, 
there  had  been  love,  and  she  had  been  safe  ^ 
in  it,  secure  against  everything  past  and  to 

come.  Russ  

She  sat  quiet,  the  tears  coming  faster  and 
faster.  The  loss  and  the  shame  of  that  loss 
which  she  had  never  dared  to  let  herself 
admit  poured  down  her  cheeks  now  in  a 
softening,  a  quickening  of  sorrow  so  intense 
that  it  was  like  joy. 
"You're  crying." 

"  It  doesn't  matter,"  she  told  him.  "Just- 
just  for  something  that  was  a  long  time 
ago." 

"Don't  cry." 

He  had  turned  toward  her,  struggling 
awkwardly  to  his  knees,  and  she  thought, 
/  can't  let  him  touch  me.  Russ  .  .  .  Russ  

A  week  before,  by  the  pond,  she  had  laid 
her  cheek  upon  his  hand,  inviting  the  kiss 
(Continued  on  Page  200) 


ilti  Klizabeth-Kllvn  Lang 

Let  others  sing  the  praises  of 
Fragrance  alone;  the  smells  I  love 
Are  not  perfumed  smells,  fragile, 
faint, 

But  garlic  smell,  moth  balls  and 
paint. 

The  smoke  of  trains,  strong  yellow 
soap. 

Hot  asphalt  pavements,  tarry  rope, 
Smell  of  old  books,  smell  of  leather, 
Smell  of  salt  flats  In  wet  weather. 

I  love  the  smell  of  earth,  fresh- 
turned. 

Of  dead  weeds  pulled  and  brown 

leaves  burned,  j 
Of  wild  field  daisies,  bitter,  thin, 
Chrysanthemums  like  medicine. 
Wet  eucalyptus,  camphor,  sage. 
And  logs  half  eaten  out  with  age. 

Strong  smells,  plain  smells,  seldom 
pretty. 

Smells  of  countryside  and  city, 
Of  quiet  lane  and  busy  street. 
Good  honest  smells,  more  real  than 
sweet ! 


I'  A  I)  I   i;  s  •     II   (»   \t   i;      J   ()  I    11    s   \  I 


I  •>«> 


MRS.  RICHARD  ARLEN 

Famous  Screen  Star's  Wife 


MRS.  DAVID  A.  DREXEL 

Well-known  Society  Leader 


MRS.  CHESTER  MORRIS 

Movie  Star's  Wife 


MRS 

Mo\ 


Take  a  Tip  From  America's  Discriminaling  Women! 


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200 

(Continued  from  Page  198) 
from  which  she  now  shrank  in  waiting.  It  is 
my  fault,  she  thought.  /  made  him  ivanl  to  kiss 
me.  I  started  it.  If  I  turn  away  now,  he  will 
be  so  angry.  So  angry,  and  so  hurt. 

But  he  did  not  kiss  her.  Instead,  with  a 
strange,  clumsy  violence,  he  threw  himself 
forward,  hiding  his  face  in  her  lap,  shudder- 
ing. And  after  a  long  time,  delicately,  almost 
as  if  she  were  conquering  a  repulsion,  she 
raised  her  hand  and  laid  it  on  his  head. 

"What  is  it?  "  she  whispered.  "  What  is  it, 
Oliver?" 

But  he  only  lay,  shuddering,  his  face  on 
her  lap,  while  his  long  hands  moved  again 
and  again  over  her  hips  and  her  thighs.  And 
after  a  little  he  got  to  his  feet. 

"I'm  sorry,"  he  said.  "Let  me  take  you 
back  to  your  place.  I  know  it  isn't  decent, 
begging  like  this.  I  know  you're  out  of  my 
class." 

And  he  walked  back  to  the  path.  She 
stumb.ed  after  him. 

"Oliver,  wait .  .  .  wait  " 

"What  is  it?" 
"I  don't  know." 

He  bowed  his  head  and  slackened  his  pace 
until  they  walked  side  by  side,  but  he  did 
not  look  down  at  her,  or  speak,  until  they 
had  come  to  her  door  again. 

"What  did  you  do  it  for?"  he  said,  then. 
"What  were  you  trying  to  do?" 

She  could  only  stare  at  him. 

"You  made  me  take  you  to  that  concert, 
when  I  tried  to  call  it  off.  You  made  me  stop 
at  my  old  house,  you  put  your  face  on  my 
hands,  asking  me  to  kiss  you.  Reflex,  I  sup- 
pose. Collecting  another,  in  spite  of  your- 
self. Jim  told  me  how  many  men  you  always 
have.  But  to  let  me  see  you  cry,  like  that, 
to  show  me  your  face  like  that  for  someone 
else  .  .  .  that  was  cruel." 

She  was  too  bewildered  to  answer. 

"Think  about  it,"  he  said  abruptly;  and 
walked  down  the  steps. 

She  went  into  her  room  and  sat  perfectly 
still  on  the  edge  of  the  bed,  staring  before 
her.  After  a  little,  clumsily  and  absently, 
she  drew  the  pins  from  her  hair  and  let  it 
fall  down  about  her. 

She  had  sat  so,  for  almost  an  hour,  with- 
out moving,  when  the  telephone  rang  in  the 
upper  hall. 

"Rose?  This  is  Oliver  Adams.  I  don't 
know  what  got  into  me  tonight.  Will  you 
forget  it,  will  you  let  me  see  you  again?" 

"You  didn't  say  anything  that— that 
wasn't  true." 

"And  so  what?  Can  you  help  being  your- 
self, and  lovely?  Rose,  may  I  see  you  to- 
morrow?" 

"Yes." 


"May  I  come  early  and  drive  you  oij] 
the  pond?" 

She  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then 
said,  "I'll  try  to  be  ready  about  nine."] 

And  she  hung  up  without  another 

She  looked  at  herself  in  the  mirror, 
not  love  him,"  she  said  to  her  refleci 

She  walked  about  the  room. 

"It  would  be  catastrophic  if  I  did," 
said. 

"Penniless,  mixed  up  inside.  Both  fi 
the  same  kind  of  rotten,  crazy  family. 
I  made  him  love  me.  I  did  it  deliberately 
give  myself  a  build-up,  to  have  somei 
need  me  terribly,  more  than  I  needed  hii 

She  lay  down  upon  her  bed  and  fell  ask 
suddenly  and  heavily.  It  was  almost  mom 
when  she  woke  with  a  start.  The  words  in 
head  spoke  themselves  so  clearly  that  for 
instant  she  was  startled,  believing  hersell 
have  spoken  them  aloud. 

//  /  say  "  I  love  you."  I  shall  love  him.  n 
say  it  again  and  again,  "I  love  you,  Oliverl 
love  you,"  it  will  be  true.  ] 

Then  she  stood  up  and  pulled  off  h 
clothes,  opened  the  bed,  and  lay  down  in  j 
She  was  asleep  again  almost  at  once. 

In  the  morning  she  did  not  rememb' 
having  wakened,  but  she  remembered  eve<j 
thing  else  well  enough. 

/  don't  want  breakfast,  she  thought.  I'm 
hungry. 

She  pulled  on  a  woolen  dress,  and  the 
feeling  chilly,  a  light  tweed  coat. 

She  looked  in  the  mirror,  touched  h 
hair,  and  sat  down  on  the  stiff  chair  by  tl 
desk  as  if  she  were  waiting  for  a  train. 

This  is  absurd,  she  said  to  herself  over  ai 
over.  Absurd.  What  am  I  tearing  out  to  t 
country  for  at  this  hour  of  the  day?  To  go  i 
making  scenes  about  nothing?  Well.  I  won 

"Rose  .  .  .  Rose  Carrington.  .  .  .  Caller 

She  ran  down  the  stairs.  i 

He  was  standing  in  the  lower  hall,  his  he; 
erect  and  his  shoulders  back. 

"Oliver!  I  didn't  recognize  you  for  a  mi 
ute.  You  look  .  .  .  you  look  " 

He  laughed,  and  she  realized  that  she  hi 
never  heard  him  laugh  before.  i 

"I  feel  too.  I  feel.  Come  out.  Rose.  It's 
perfect  day."  i 

He  helped  her  into  the  car.  ' 

"Talk  to  me  while  I  drive.  Tell  me  abo 
Mississippi."  ! 

"  I  forget  about  it.  It  doesn't  seem  real,  i 
here." 

"What  are  your  family  like?  Yo 
mother?" 

"She  died  when  I  was  little.  She  had  mc 
sisters  and  cousins  than  anybody  who  e'v 
lived.  They're  all  in  the  neighborhood,  ' 
you  count  a  neighborhood  out  there."  ' 


"Wait  till  I  bait  your  hook." 


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I     \    I)    I     I      ^  II  n 

"Parlies?  Ante-bellum  hIuIT?" 
"Not  at  our  hoiis*-.  just  llic  oilic  is' 
"Why?  Wliy  not?" 

"My  fat  tier's  sister  keeps  lious*-,  iii  ;i  way 
of  siK'akin«.  That  is.  she  lives  there.  She  and 
niy  father    they're  a  lot  alike." 

"Alike?" 

"  Tliey  drink  l<x)  much."  she  kikI  shortly. 

lie  was  silent,  hut  the  silence  was  so  kind 
that  she  was  ashamed. 

What  am  I  doni^/  she  IhoiiKht.  Why  am  I 
U'lliun  him  lhin^;s  that  I  mrer  loitt  amour  ?  I 
will  iratk  ddicn  In  Ihi  /xml  and  itr  u  ill  \land  hv 
it,  and  hi'  will  hv  likf  this.  hal>l>y.  ami  laU-in^i. 
ami  loiiiidint.  Ami  I  will  say.  "It's  mi  iisi\ 
it's  my  Jaiill.  I  madi  yon  nfl  joml  of  mi  .  hiil 
it's  tw  use." 

TiiKV  drove  off  the  highroad  inio  the  lon^. 
uillow-lined  side  way.  The  house-  on  the  hill 
rose  u|)  ahead  of  them.  She  not  out  as  he 
stopped  the  car  and  sIckkI  looking  up  at  it, 

"Listen."  she  said  suddenly,  liercely. 
"They're  t(H)  str<)n^;  for  us,  places  like  this. 
They're  t(K)  slronn  for  jK'ople.  My  lather 
and  Aunt  Lila  just  sit.  and  sort  of  ikkI  at 
each  other  and  drink.  .And  1  like  liieiii,  1  k)ve 
them,  but  the  silliest  one  of  the  y\rcher  kin- 
folk  amounts  to  more  than  lx)th  of  them  put 
lonether  ten  limes  over." 

"Rose,  what's  the  matter?" 

"Oliver,  promise  me  .  .  .  before  we  net  to 
the  i)ond,  promise  me  that  whatever  hap- 
pens, ever,  you  won't  ever  come  back  here." 

"What  in  tiie  world?" 

He  walked  down  the  path  aiiead  of  her. 

"I'm  sorry  ...  I  know  I  sound  fcxdish." 

They  had  come  to  the  edge  of  the  ix)nd.  1  le 
stood  on  the  cd^c  of  it,  smiling  as  if  he  had 
forgotten  her. 

"What  seas,  what  islands?  And  you  used 
to  run  down  to  the  cabins  to  hear  the  singing. 
Such  a  long  lime  ago." 

"Yes." 

"Rose?" 

She  turned  sharply  at  the  sound  of  his 
voice.  She  looked  at  his  face,  and  saw,  to  her 
utter  anguish  of  shame,  that  he  was  happy. 

He  thinks  that  I  am  befiinning,  to  love  him. 
Oh.  why  did  I  do  it,  why  did  I  make  him  love 
tne?  Because  he  was  so  lonely,  because  I  wanted 
to  save  myself  by  triumphing  over  an  abject 
need. 

"Rose.  Rose  who  came  from  a  house  like 
mine  and  never  let  it  hurt  her  because  she 
was  deep  and  .good  and  sure  in  herself.  Kind, 
kind  Rose,  who  put  out  her  hand  to  me." 

She  looked  at  the  happy  shine  of  the 
mottled  eyes,  at  the  outstretched  hands,  at 
the  lips  smiling.  And  suddenly  she  was  filled 
with  an  amazing  sense  of  power. 

/  am  not  a  Carrington.  she  thought.  /  am 
not  an  Archer.  I  am  myselj.  I  will  go  on  and 
on,  .stronger  and  stronger. 

And  suddenly  she  leaned  forward,  lifting 
her  mouth.  She  felt  his  hands  on  her,  she 
closed  her  eyes. 

She  spoke,  moving  her  lips  beneath  his, 
not  knowing  that  she  had  ever  spoken  the 
words  before,  not  knowing  that  she  spoke 
them  now. 

"I  love  you,"  said  the  soundless  lips.  "I 
love  you,  Oliver.  I  love  you." 

"Rose." 

But  she  had  thrown  back  her  head  sud- 
denly, joyfully,  and  was  staring  into  his  face. 

"Oh,  Oliver,  I  do  love  you.  I  do.  I  do." 

They  sat  down  together,  hand  in  hand,  by 
the  pond.  It  was  a  brilliant  morning.  They 
sat  motionless  for  a  long  time,  except  that 
occasionally  one  or  the  other  laid  a  cheek 
upon  the  interlaced  fingers,  or  raised  the  free 
hand  to  touch  the  other's  hair. 

And  once  or  twice  Rose  thought,  Why  have 
I  done  this,  what  am  I  doing?  But  each  time 
she  thought  again,  Oliver,  I  love  you,  Oliver. 
And,  again,  it  was  true. 

She  would  forget,  before  a  week  was  past, 
that  her  love,  her  happiness,  her  coming 
marriage  were  of  her  own  making,  her  own 
deliberate  act. 

She  looked  back  up  the  slope,  past  the 
gingerbread  summerhouse,  past  the  stables 
to  the  house  that  was  like  Charleswood, 
Oliver's  house. 

"If  we  ever  had  money,"  she  said  slowly, 
"you  know,  it  would,  it  would  make  a  won- 
derful place  for  children."  the  end 


Jit  I 


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$mmrt 
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V- 


II  sparkles,  il't  colorful,  so  practical  to  use. 
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For  a  colaloQ  ol  oil  lutlro  Watt  iltmi  wtil9 
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16  East  52nd  St.,  New  York,  N.Y.  Dept  t 

CHICAGO  •  BOSTON  •  CtEVEtAND 
ATLANTA  •  PHOENIX  •  BEVERLY  HILLS 


C|cUta;iclb 

'  Hi  powder . . . 


•  The  original  blend  of  Ancho-Chili  pods, 
sun-cured  in  Old  Mexico. 

•  No  salt  or  filter  odded!  (r  s  q\\  octiVe 
flavor ! 

•  Grinder-fresh!  Sealed  in  gloss! 


GebhoHdl 

■  chili    powder    CO.  MN  ANTONIO.  TE: 


A  menu  thnfs  right  for  an  inforrtuil  buffet:  shrimp  and  sole  Marinara  with  rice  diul  mushrnoms.  cucunilier-<uul-onion  salad,  hot  rolls 


onvi 


Itff  It  nth  Mills  Tvatiiiv 

For  this  April  menu  I've  chosen  shrimp  and  sole  Marinara  for  the  main 
dish,  because  it's  so  extra  good  and  it's  light — in  calories,  I  mean. 
The  more  I  learn  about  calories  the  more  enamored  I  am  of  the  shrimp — 
not  that  I  hadn't  succumbed  before.  When  you  think  that  you  can 
eat  a  whole  cupful  of  those  delicious  creatures  and  put  only 
a  hundred  calories  under  your  belt!  Of  course  that's  without 
trimmings,  but  even  so  it's  pretty  w^onderful.  But  I'm  ahead  of  myself. 
We'll  begin  our  meal  with  a  dip  made  of  Roquefort  cheese,  avocado, 
sour  cream  and  nuts,  with  potato  chips  for  scoops.  The  bland  avocado 
blends  so  well  with  the  sharp-tasting  cheese,  and  the  sour  cream  adds 
tang.  Then  shrimp  and  sole  Marinara.  This  dish  has  quite  a  lot  of 
tomato  sauce,  and  rice  and  mushrooms  will  be  perfect  with  it.  You 
don't  put  the  shrimp  over  the  rice,  but  when  they  are  side  by  side  on  the 
plate  they  do  some  mighty  palatable  blending.  The  salad  will  be 
onion  rings,  sliced  cucumbers  and  greens  with  a  sweet-sour 
French  dressing.  Cucumbers  and  fish  have  been  going  together  for 
some  time,  and  that's  no  mesalliance.  For  bread,  hot  buttered  fingei' 
rolls  will  be  good  if  they  are  available — if  not,         (Coniinued  on  Fage  204) 

To  Irmpt  (ipjM'lilcs:  Roqut'forl  rhrrsr  iiilh  avocado,  sour  cream,  nuls. 


I    \  II   I  I 


II   11   \l  I 


l>      I       II      N      \  I 


-J 


never  ^ 


om  cook 


Kids  really  go  for  vegetables  with  Ac'cent.  And  you  can 
taste  the  reason  why!   Like  nothing  else,  Ac'cent  brings  out 
nature's  own  flavors  in  foods  ...  makes  all  meats 


and  vegetables  [|^ 


I  taste  naturally  better ! 


That's  why  the  best  cooks,  chefs 
and  food  processors  always 
use  all  three  .  .  .  \|^^^^^ 
salt,  pepper,  and  Ac'cent. 


at  Grocers  Everywhere 
also  available  in  Canada 

©1953 


^INO    PRODUCTS    DIVISION    OF   INTERNATIONAL  MINERALS   &    C  H  E  M IC  AL  CO  R  POR  ATI  ON.  20    NORTH   WACKER    DRIVE.  CHICAGO    6.  ILLINOIS 


201 


L   A    D    r    F,    S  •  no 


M    K       .1    O    II    R    N    A  L 


April,  1 


il  \ 

Mrs.  Franz  gives  Governor  chance  to  sample  her  pmc-u  inning  cookery 

Governor  Receives  Winning 
Entry  from  Prize  Cook 


Mrs.  John  A.  Franz  of  Buhler, 
Kansas,  presents  her  prize-winning 
cooking  entry  to  Governor  Edward 
F.  Arn  at  the  Kansas  State  Fair. 
Mrs.  Franz  won  the  special  "Gov- 
ernor's Award"  in  last  fall's  cook- 
ing competition — and  the  chance 
to  meet  Governor  Arn  in  person! 

Besides  entering  cooking  con- 
tests, Mrs.  Franz  finds  time  for 
countless  community  activities  and 
substitute  teaching  work.  With  a 
busy  schedule  like  that  she  cer- 
tainly appreciates  the  convenience 
of  Fleischmann's  Active  Dry  Yeast. 


"It's  so  fast  rising  and  easy  to  use," 
she  says.  "And  I  find  it  absolutely 
dependable!" 

Prize-winning  cooks  prefer 
Fleischmann's  Active  Dry  Yeast — 
out  of  5000  prize  winners  surveyed, 
97'  (  like  Fleischmann's  best.  It's 
so  much  handier  than  old-style 
perishable  cake  yeast — keeps  for 
months  on  the  pantry  shelf.  Always 
rises  fast!  Now  when  you  bake  at 
home  it's  convenient  to  use  yeast. 
But  use  the  best — look  for  the  label 
and  be  sure  you  get  Fleischmann's 
Active  Dry  Yeast. 


First  in  flavor  .  .  .  first  in  favor  — 
that's  UNDERWOOD'S,  the 
nation's  favorite  sandwich  spread. 
Nutritious  too.  Try  it  on  toast  un- 
der poached  eggs  for  breakfast, 
lunch  or  supper. 

FRII'  23  fast,  easy  recipes  for  sandwiches, 
ideas.  Write:  Wm.  Underwood 


.jgVlLED  HAM^ 

THE  ORIGINAL...ALL  FINE  HAM 
ZESTFULLY  SEASONED 

For  86years  America's  favorite  spread 


each  for 


CANDIES 


Get  After  Dinner  Candles  at  your 
favorite  candy  counter. 
In  handy  10c  packs  and  in  economi- 
cal, family-size  packages. 

THOS.  D.  RICHARDSON  CO.,  Philadelphia  34,  Pa. 


{Continued  from  Page  202) 
substitule  Parker  House  rolls.  Creamy  ba- 
nana sherbet  with  apricot  sauce  will  finish 
our  dinner  on  the  right  note.  The  sherbet  is 
sweet  and  bland  and  the  apricot  sauce  is 
tart — a  fine  combination  of  tastes. 
These  recipes  will  serve  ten. 

CHEESE  DIP 

Blend  together  iinli I  snioolh  '  2  pound  Roqiie- 
(orl  or  bleu  cheese  and  '  2  pint  sour  cream, 
(ail  one  large  ripe  avocado  in  half,  remove 
stone  aiid*serape  out  fruit  with  a  spf)on.  l>e- 
iiig  sure  to  get  all  the  hrighl  green  fruil  next 
to  the  skill.  Sprinkle  at  once  with  2  lahle- 
spoons  lemon  juice,  press  through  a  fine 
sieve  and  combine  with  cheese  and  sour 
cream.  A<ld  '2  <'up  finely  chopped  walnuts, 
several  dashes  Tabas<-o  and  I  lablespooii 
grated  onion.  This  can  be  prepared  in  ad- 
vance ex<-ept  for  (he  avocado,  wfiich  should 
be  ad<led  near  serving  lime. 

y'lRIMP  \.\»  SOEE  MARIN\RA 

ash  3  ' 2  pounds  shrimp  and  pul  lliem  in  a 
large  pot  of  boiling  ualer  to  Mlddi  I  <  up 
vinegar  and  2  tablespoons  salt  have  been 
a<lde<l.  ^  hen  waler  again  comes  lo  a  boil, 
cook  tbcm  5  mimiles  longer.  Strain  into  a 
colander,  rinse  with  cold  water  and  remove 
shells  and  veins.  Raw  frozen  shrimp  are  avail- 
able in  most  grocery  stores,  but  canned  or 
precooked  frozen  shrimp  may  be  sni)sliliiled. 
Sprinkle  I  pound  (illels  of  sole  or  flounder 
with  sail,  dredge  lighllv  uilh  Hour  and  saiilt' 
in  butter  or  margarine  until  delicately 
browned  on  both  sides.  Remove  lish  from 
skillcl.  add  2  lablespooiis  salad  oil,  I  '2  cups 
chopped  onion.  I  '  2  eups  <  ho|)ped  celery  an<l 
2  cloves  garlic,  (inelv  minced.  Cook  over  low 
heal  .5  minutes,  stirring  oflen.  limply  con- 
tents of  skillet  into  a  kettle  and  add  one 
#2^2  '■«>"  lomaloes,  .3  tablespoons  tomato 
paste,  ?4  teaspoon  ort'iiani),  1  scant  teaspoon 
peperoni  and  I  teaspoon  sail.  Simmer  10  min- 
utes and  add  shrimp  and  lillelsof  lish.  broken 
into  bile-size  pieces,  i'repare  this  dish  in  ad- 
vance and  reheat  before  serving.  Slir  as  lillle 
and  as  gently  as  possible  lo  avoid  breaking 
the  pieces  of  fish. 

RICE  AM)  Ml  SHRO<)I\1S 

Cook  2'  2  flips  long-grained  rice  by  whatever 
melhod  you  prefer.  Mere  is  my  favorite 
melliod:  ^  ash  rice  six  limes  in  cold  water, 
rubbing  il  between  your  hands  lo  remove  as 
inucb  starch  as  possible.  Bring  I  quarts  w  aler 
to  a  rolling  boil,  add  .3  teaspoons  salt  and 
sprinkle  in  rice  slowlv  so  that  boiling  con- 
tinues. ( iook  iinlil  lender — about  20  min- 
utes— -drain  into  colander  and  rinse  llior- 
oiighlv  with  very  hot  water.  IjCI  stand  until 
dripping  stops  and  spread  on  a  cooky  sheet 
thai  has  been  rublied  with  salad  oil.  Put  in 
a  low — 200"  F. — oven  for  about  20  mimiles. 
stirring  occasionally  w  ith  a  fork.  F^ach  kernel 
will  be  separate  and  fluflv. 


Fresh  or  canned  mushrooms  may  be  us 
For  fresh,  wash  1  pound  mushrooms  m 
slice,  and  saute  in  34  pf»iiu<l  butter  or  n 
garineiinlil  tender.  Add  lo  rice  and  toss  h| 
two  forks  until  well  mixed.  Forearmed, 
2  or  3  cans  btilton  mushrooms,  add  to  1 
wilh  34  pound  melted  bulter  or  margai 
and  toss  with  two  forks.  Keep  rice  hi 
a  bowl  over  gently  boiling  w&ler.  Gai 
with  parsley  and  sprinkle  with  paprika. 

Cl  Cl  MBER-AND-ONION  SALADsj 
.Score  unpeeled  cucumbers  with  a  fork, 
thinly    and    cover   with    ice   water.  S 
medium-size  onions  thinly  and  separate  r  ji'i 
rings.  I  use  red  onions  when  ihey  are  av. 
able  because  ihey  are  so  sweet  and  jur 
Combine  2'j  cup  salad  oil,  33  eup  vinega 
w  ine  or  cider — '2  leaspoon  paprika,  3^  1 
spoon  dry  miislard,   I '2  teaspoons  salt 
teaspoons  sugar  and  3  lablespoons  chop]  =^ 
pimienlo.  This  makes  a  sweet -sour  dress  " 
which  I  think  is  good  with  the  cuciiinL 
and  onions.  Drain  cucumbers  ihoroughlyj 
lowels.  pul  them  in  a  bowl  with  onions,  1 
salail  dressing  and  loss  well.  This  is  no 
lasl-miniile  salad — it  should  be  mixed 
least  half  an  hour  before  serving.  Bei 
bringing  il  lo  the  table  loss  again  and  garr^ 
generously  with  lettuce  leaves. 

CREAMY  BANANA  SHERBET 

Press  f)  ripe  bananas  ihroiigli  a  line  sie 
add  3  lablespoons  lemon  juice,  I  can  swt 
ciicd  condensed  milk  anil  2  cups  w  hole  in 
Heal  will)  rotary  beater  iiiilil  smooth.  If' 
havean  eleclric  blender,  slice  bananas  int< 
add  some  of  the  milk,  buzz  milil  smooth  ; 
mix  with  oilier  ingredients.  Pour  into  freez 
pan  and  freeze  to  mushy  stage  in  refrigera 
or  freezer.  Fold  in  2  sliHIy  beaten  egg  whi"! 
and  conlimie  freezing — about  3  hours  in 
Beat  sever. il  limes  during  freezing,  scrap 
sides  and  bullom  of  ]>an,  so  that  a  smoo 
even  consisleiicv  will  be  reached. 


APRICOT  SAI  CE  'Wg 

Press  1  No.  2  can  peeled  apricots  throug^^ali 
line  sieve,  or  buzz  in  electric  blender.  Ada 
tablespoon  lemon  juice,  I   leaspoon  gral 
orange  rind  and  1    leaspoon  grated  ieii 
rinil.  Serve  apricot  sauce  over  sherbet. 

Service.  Once  in  a  while  it's  fun  to  hav'i 
small  buffet  party  where  people  are  not  f 
ting  at  tables,  and  this  menu  fits  that  pi* 
The  food  is  easy  to  eat  and  the  shrimp,  i 
and  salad  can  occupy  the  same  plate- 
two  essentials  for  this  form  of  service, 
makes  entertaining  so  simple  for  the  hosl 
and  it  allows  everyone  complete  freedom 
move  from  one  congenial  group  to  anotl 
Just  be  sure  to  have  plenty  of  small  tal 
at  strategic  spots  in  the  room  and  use 
largesti  plates  you  have.  I  think  you'll  t 
there  will  be  very  little  left  on  them  wl 
they're  put  down  on  the  tables,    the  k 


Colorful  and  creamy  for  dessert:  sweet,  bland  banana  sherbet  topped  with  apricot  sauc\ 


V    II     I  I 


M  I 


\  I. 


2or» 


on  a  budget! 


Stuffed  Meat  Birds,  rnimd 
eight  4    X  ()    piiHi's  veal  or  poik. 
I  ir,  siilt,  pi'ppcr  nn'iil.  I'lcpjn  i'  stulling 
jrowninn  1  minci'd  onion,  1  minced 
fic  clovo  in  2  tbsp.  fat.  Mix  with  c. 
id  crumbs,  6  sprigs  chopp-il  parsley, 
lightly  beaten  egn,  1  Herb  Ox  Bouil- 
Ciibe  dissolved  in  '  z  c.  water, 
tuff  each  piece  of  meat;  secure  with 
hpicks.  Brown  in  2  tbsp.  shortening 
kl  1  Herb-Ox  Bouillon  Cube  dissolved 
|4  c.  water.  Cover  and  cook  over  low 
:  for  30  min.  (Serves  4.) 

Now  in  new  re-usable 
12-cube  plastic  jar! 

Re-usable  in  myriad  ways. 
The  Pure  Food  Co.,  Inc., 
Mamaroneck.  N.  Y. 


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blades  .  .  .  mixes  any- 
tliing  mixable.  At 
hardware,  home  fur- 
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If  your  dealer  can't  supply  you 
—  write  us  for  literature  and 
price  list. 


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ite  Hip-O-Lita,  Dept.  L-17,  St.  louis  1,  Mo. 


A  .>ioTiii:irs  iM  I  I 

(C'liiiliniifil  friim  I'ligr-  II) 

Maine  lo  do  held  work.  She  rcIh  llml  from 
you." 

"  There  are  worse  IhirJKs  8he  could  «ei 
from  me."  said  Cierald,  "than  an  inlereHl  in 

science." 

"Maybe  I  could  iiiiix»rl  sonielxKly."  siiid 
I-ouise.  "The  I'erkins  Ixjy  is  only  workin« 
lor  his  father,  so  he  could  |)rol)al)ly  yel  away. 
Ol  course  he's  an  awful  dope,  hut  imyway 
lie's  a  male.  I  ihink.  And  I  could  wrile 
Madne  for  the  I  wins;  ihe  armed  forces  won'l 
«el  Ihem  till  fall,  only  Madue  told  me  she 
plans  lo  sil  at  Bar  Ilarl)or  all  summer  with 
one  under  each  winn." 

"I^)uise,"  said  Cierald,  "you're  lalkinn 
like  a  Ihrowhack.  Like  a  scheming,  malch- 
inakinn  Victorian  mamma.  Don'l  you  know 
lliat  Ihe  modern  parent  does  not  meddle 
does  not  arranur  her  chiUlren's  lives?" 

"  It  is  a  mother's  duty  lo  arran^;e  a  suita- 
ble milieu,"  said  I.ouise.  "And  it  is  iwl  match- 
making to  iirovide  an  environment  in  which 
Sally  can  at  least  lind  oul  what  it  is  she  isn't 
caring  aliout." 

Cierald  shook  his  head.  "  Kven  in  our  day  a 
mother  coukln't  net  away  with  it.  I  remem- 
ber the  mother  of  a  ^irl  I  was  interested  in 
before  I  met  you  who  was  forever  i)lottinK 
picnics  and  slei^;h  rides  and  baiting  the  trap 
with  chocolate  cake  until  1  had  to  rim  for  my 
life.  And  there  wasn't  a  thin^  the  matid 
with  the  daunhler." 

"There  wasn't?"  said  Louise. 

"The  point  of  my  reminiscence  is  the 
mother,"  said  (ierald. 

"Of  course  the  scheming  must  be  subtle 
.Hid  veiled."  said  Louise.  "\'ou  never 
minded  mother's  invitations." 

"\'oiir  mother,  for  all  her  faults,  is  a  p(  i 
kclly  harmless  woman  and  about  as  veil*  i 
.1^  a  plate-glass  window.  She  frankly  showed 
1110  that  she  liked  me  for  myself,  regardless  of 
my  being  an  escort  for  her  daughter." 

i^ouiSE  looked  thoughtful.  "Yes.  she  did 
like  you.  Even  before  I  did.  You  know,  if  I 
knew  anyone  to  invite,  I  would  certainly 
liave  a  house  party  for  Sally." 

"House  party!"  said  Gerald.  He  moved 
violently  toward  the  door.  "You'd  hll  the 
place  with  advanced  adolescents  just  as  I'm 
beginning  the  book  -  this  morning— ri^ht 
now?  " 

"liut  I  don't  know  anybody,"  said  Louise. 

Gerald  looked  back  from  the  doorway. 
"One  last  word  of  warning,  Louise.  If  you 
pursue  this  line  you  will  frighten  away  every 
man  within  a  mile  radius  of  Sally.". 

"You  can't  frighten  away  what  isn't 
there,"  said  Louise.  But  Gerald  had  .gone  lo 
begin  his  book. 

Louise  heard  about  the  Pleasants'  house 
party  from  Natalie  I^leasant  herself,  whom 
she  met,  flanked  by  her  two  cream-pufT 
daughters.  Blanche  and  Charlotte,  in  the 
general  store. 

The  Pleasants  came  from  a  prairie  state  to 
build  the  turrets,  bays  and  semicircular 
porches  of  their  cobblestone  summer  palace 
on  the  north  arm  of  the  cove.  The  natives 
and  summer  people  alike  tended  to  laugh  at 
the  Pleasants  from  the  superiority  of  their 
indigenous  clapboards.  But  Louise  ratlur 
liked  Natalie  Pleasant,  who  had  the  courage 
of  her  own  taste  in  more  than  architecture. 

"As  soon  as  the  house  party  is  all  here," 
Mrs.  Pleasant  said,  "I'm  importing  an  or- 
chestra from  Boston  and  we're  going  to  ha\  i 
a  real  dance.  Something  to  get  the  girls  oui 
of  pants  once  in  a  summer."  She  smiled  ai 
the  dungareed  cream  puffs  and  they  smiled 
back  with  perfect  confidence  in  their  leader. 
"Of  course  we  want  Sally  to  come  to  the 
dance,"  said  Mrs.  Pleasant. 

"She'd  love  it,"  said  Louise. 

"But  there's  a  catch."  Natalie  Pleasant 
looked  Louise  lirmly  in  the  eye.  "I've  had 
the  devil's  own  time  scraping  together 
enough  boys  to  even  up  the  house  party,  and 
Sally  will  have  to  bring  her  own  partner." 

"But  of  course,"  said  Louise. 

Mrs.  Pleasant  looked  frankly  surprised. 
"You  mean  you  know  of  some  boy  here?" 


Thrifty  dessert  wl1h  a  crown  d^lcJ! 
Eas/to  do  with 

Canned  Qin^'Peachesffom  Galtfornia 


Crown  0  Gold  Pudding 


6  servings  Minute  Tapioca*  Cream 
6  canned  cling  peach  halves 

1  cup  syrup  from  peaches 
Vs  cup  granulated  sugar 

2  tablespoons  cornstarch 

Dash  salt 
V2  cup  orange  juice 
1  tablespoon  grated  orange  rind 

Prepare  Tapioca  Cream  as  directed  on 
Minute  Tapioca  package.  Chill.  Drain 
peaches,  heat  syrup.  Mix  sugar,  corn- 
starch, salt  and  orange  juice.  Stir  into 
syrup  and  cook  and  stir  until  clear  and 
thickened.  Add  rind  and  peaches.  Heat 
thoroughly.  Cool  iO  minutes.  Serve 
warm  over  chilled  tapioca.  Serves  6. 

•  Product  of  General  Foods 


Something  quick!  Something  gay 
for  dessert.s,  salads,  garnishes!  Won- 
derful canned  cling  peaches  from 
California!  Sun-gold!  Tender,  yet  firm 
and  well- shaped.  Luscious  with  real, 
summer-sweet,  fresh  peach  flavor! 
America's  favorite  canned  fruit.  A 
huge  success  at  any  meal.  Plump 
halves  or  dainty  slices,  they're  your 
best  canned  fruit  buy!  Enjoy  deli- 
cious canned  cling  peaches  often! 

Cltnf  PeKch  AdrworT  BoArd 


206 


T.  A  n  r  F, 


II    O    M  E 


J    O    U    R    N    A  F, 


"M/SMn  Thrives  On 
Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap' 


Read  How  This  Fresh  Young  Beauty  Was  Helped 
By  Candy  Jones,  Famous  Beauty  Director! 

GLORIA:  Miss  Jones,  what  was  the  most  important  reason  you  recommended 
Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap  as  the  finest  complexion  care? 

CANDY:  Well,  Gloria,  as  a  beauty  advisor  to  girls  like  yourself,  I've  seen  with 
my  own  eyes  how  dailv  care  with  Cashmere  Bou(]uet  Soap  leaves  a  girl's 
skin  with  the  look  of  natural  beauty  as  no  amount  of  make-up  ran! 

GLORIA:  You're  so  right,  Miss  Jones!  I  use  Cashmere  Bouquet 
Soap  every  day  and  my  complexion  seems  to  glow  with 
a  naturally  fresh,  radiant  look! 

CANDY:  Yes.  Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap  does  wonders  that 

way!  And  it's  so  mild  and  gentle — 

I  recommend  it  to  everyone!  ,  , 

Candy  Jones 

(Mrs.  Harry  Conover) 


Candy  Jones,  Director  of  the  Famous  Conover 
School  in  New  York,  reveals  for  the  first  time 
confidential  advice  from  her  beauty  diary. 

/ 

/•  Use  my  professional  trick  to  widen  your  eyes. 
Carefully  blend  a  dot  of  lipstick  into  your  makeup 
at  the  outermost  edge  of  each  eye  socket. 

Beauty  speaks  for  itself — so  keep  your  conversations 
short  and  varied.  The  most  sought-after  women 
leave  their  audience  wanting  more.  i 

The  most  professional  makeup  art  cannot 
work  magic  unless  your  skin  is  clean  and 
glowing.  Beauty-cleanse  your  neck  and  face 
twice  doily  with  gentle,  mild  Cashmere 
Bouquet  Soap.  MORE  LATER,.^  > 


Louise  laughed.  "Sally  isn't  even  here 
yet.  But  she'll  doubtless  have  somebody  on 
the  string  we  can  pull  in." 

"Oh."  Mrs.  Pleasant  relaxed.  She  tucked 
her  arm  in  Louise's  and  moved  away  from 
the  girls.  "My  dear,  you  should  see  the  as- 
sortment I've  got  coming.  The  girls,  of 
course,  are  all  alike.  But  the  boys  range  from 
sixteen  to  twenty-two.  The  twenty-two  one 
is  Henry  Bartholomew  and  he's  already  out 
of  the  armed  services  and  what  we  used  to 
call  divine.  Tall,  dark,  athletic  and  I'm 
afraid  sophisticated  after  the  war  and  all. 
But  I  don't  think  he's  really  too  old  for 
Blanche.  She's  almost  eighteen." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Louise.  "I  was  married 
at  eighteen." 

"You  were?"  Mrs.  Pleasant  looked  at 
Louise.  "I've  always  wondered  how  you 
could  have  Sally."  She  sighed.  "  It  was  easier 
in  our  day.  Remember  the  extra  man?  Re- 
member the  stag  line?  Why,  I  thought  noth- 
ing of  going  to  a  dance  with  two  escorts." 
Mrs.  Pleasant  brightened  up.  "His  family 
has  money  too.  Not  that  we  have  to  look  for 
that,  but  it's  reassuring  to  know  that  he's 
not  looking  for  it  either." 

Louise  laughed  again  and  picked  up  her 
bag  of  groceries.  She  couldn't  help  liking 
Natalie  Pleasant  very  much. 

Louise  stopped  at  the  station  to  engage 
Joshua  Smith,  the  stationmaster's  son  and 
assistant,  to  roll  the  tennis  court.  She  looked 
at  him  speculatively,  but  only  for  a  moment. 
Even  if  he  could  be  persuaded  to  part  with 
his  chewing  tobacco,  he  was  at  least  thirty 
years  old;  and  anyway,  the  natives  took  a 
snobbish  view  of  summer  people. 

She  walked  on  home,  moodily  recalling  a 
half-remembered  fairy  tale  or  myth  in  which 
knights  had  been  turned  to  stones  and  at  the 
magic  touch  had  sprung  up  again  in  manly 
splendor.  She  picked  a  large,  handsome, 
symmetrical  boulder  at  the  side  of  the  road 
and  experimentally  tapped  it  with  her  foot, 
but  nothing  happened. 

Sallv  came  on  the  same  train  as  her  letter 
giving  her  date  of  arrival.  She  walked  in  and 
dropped  her  suitcase  with  a  thud  that 
sounded  as  though  it  were  full  of  rocks.  She 
kissed  her  father,  looked  at  him  admiringly 
and  told  him  she  had  brought  something  to 
show  him.  She  kissed  her  mother,  looked  at 
her  critically  and  told  her  she  was  wearing 
tqp  bright  a  shade  of  lipstick.  She  flung  her- 
self in  a  chair,  stretched  her  beautiful  legs, 
rumpled  her  pretty  dark  hair  (in  a  gesture 
copied  from  Gerald)  and  asked  if  Paws  had 
come.  Paws  was  the  Lambs'  summer  cat. 
She  spent  the  winters  around  the  station, 
boarding  at  Stationmaster  Smith's  house. 

"She  was  here  all  week,"  said  Louise, 
"but  I  haven't  seen  her  today.  Maybe  she 
got  confused  and  went  back  to  the  Smit'ns'. 
The  weather's  been  so  cold.  Dear,  what  do 
you  have  in  your  suitcase?" 

"Rocks,"  said  Sally.  "Oh,  daddy,  our 
General  Science  teacher  took  us  on  a  geology 
field  trip  and  it  was  simply  a  rebirth  for  me. 
I  discovered  that  I  am  mad  about  geology. 
This  is  what  I  wanted  to  show  you.  Look." 
She  knelt  on  the  floor  and  opened  the  suit- 
case. It  was  full  of  rocks.  "Pegmatites, 
cyrtolite — molybdenite,"  said  Sally  fondly. 
"And  here's  a  specimen  even  Miss  Thatcher 
couldn't  identify," 

Her  parents  hovered  over  her.  "I  don't 
know,"  said  Gerald.  "I'm  not  much  of  a 
geologist." 

"Maybe  it's  a  Hittite,"  said  Louise.  But 
nobody  laughed  and  she  went  back  and  sat 
down. 

She  had  just  managed  to  escape  into  a 
pure  phantasy  of  sending  Sally  to  the  Pleas- 
ants' dance  with  two  escorts  when  Sally  said, 
"I  had  the  most  humiliating  experience  on 
the  train.  A  boy  tried  to  pick  me  up." 

Louise  emerged  with  a  start.  "He  did! 
Was  he  attractive?  I  mean  was  he  a  gentle- 
man?" 

"Mother!  What  possible  difference  could 
it  make?  I  never  saw  him  before." 

"Oh,  of  course,"  said  Louise.  "What  I 
mean  is,  what  did  he  do?  " 

"  He  just  sat  across  the  aisle  and  made  goo- 
goo  eyes  at  me  and  said  his  watch  had 


A,,r, 

Stopped  and  did  I  have  the  time  am 
sort  of  thing.  I  could  handle  that.  The 
tying  part  comes  later.  When  we  g( 
the  train  stopped  down  by  the  watei 
the  way  it  sometimes  does  and  this  cha 
jumps  up  and  tries  to  pick  up  my  si 
with  a  flourish— probably  thought  i 
full  of  underwear,  the  dope.  Anyway,  1 
he  thought  he'd  dislocated  his  shoulde 
after  that  he  was  determined  to  carry 
we  had  to  walk  along  the  gravel  up  t 
the  station.  Joshua  Smith  sees  us  comii 
hastens  down,  thinking  he'd  catch 
sucker.  This  character  hands  it  to  him 
smile,  trying  to  make  it  appear  lighi 
Joshua  has  picked  it  up  again  ofl'  his  f< 
all  trudge  along  to  Joshua's  truck.  Ar 
is  the  mortifying  part.  This  character 
Joshua  a  bill.  Well,  naturally  I  snati 
away  from  Joshua  and  gave  it  back 
and  see  too  late  that  it  is  five  dollar 
naturally,  since  I'm  on  my  way  h( 
don't  have  five  dollars.  And  natur 
wouldn't  be  fair  to  give  Joshua  the  t 
lars  and  sixty-three  cents  I  do  havi 
he'd  already  seen  the  bill  and  legally, 
pose,  it  was  already  his  five  dollars  b 
snatched  it.  So  I  just  had  to  let  this  ch: 
give  the  five  dollars  back  to  Joshua." 

"Did  you  get  his  address?"  said  I 
"So  we  can  reimburse  him,  I  mean." 


"I^ATURALLY    not.    He  would 
thought  I  meant  something  by  it.  I 
said,  with  what  dignity  I  could  mus 
fool  and  his  money  are  soon  parted,'  a  \ . 
into  the  truck,  and  Joshua  drove  maora 
and  had  the  decency  not  to  charge  t\" 

"Did  you  notice  which  way  'this  c  irac- 
ter '  went?  "  asked  Louise. 

"Oh,  he  was  on  his  way  up  the  line  i  visit 
his  family." 

"Oh,  no."  said  Louise.  "You  mean  ;gc! 
back  on  the  train?" 

"Don't  mind  your  mother,"  said  (  t 
"She's  just  boy-crazy." 

Louise  dropped  her  eyes  before  her  ; 
ter's  disapproving  glance. 

Louise  was  at  the  station  when  the  leas- 
ants'  house  party  arrived.  She  was  tf  f  ' 
chance  to  mail  a  letter  and  pick  up 
But  finding  the  Pleasants'  station 
with  the  Pleasants'  chauffeur  standin  r 
his  summer  uniform,  she  waited  on  p  p 
for  the  train.  She  waited  with  the  iniceni 
emotion  that  prompts  people  who  f  iren'i 
the  price  of  a  rowboat,  or  a  pond  to  flcjjone 
in,  to  go  to  the  Motorboat  Show  at  rar^ 
Central  Palace. 

Perhaps  by  actual  count  only  four 
young  men  got  off  the  train,  but  Lou 
in  no  state  for  statistics.  It  seen 
though  a  river  of  crew  cuts  flowed  p..t  i; 
toward  the  Pleasants'  station  wagoi  An 
one,  a  little  behind  the  rest,  was  surely 
Bartholomew.  True,  he  didn't  look  a  \ 
of  twenty-two,  or  terribly  sophistical i 
Louise  had  been  noticing  that  as  on 
older  young  people  looked  younger  \ 
year.  And  there  was  an  air  of  respon 
about  him  the  others  lacked. 

Louise  could  not  prevent  a  sigh.  Per  ip^ 
came  out  more  of  a  groan,  for  the  bun. 
man  halted,  looked  anxiously  at  her  an  pan; 
politely,  "May  I  be  of  help?" 

Taken  by  surprise,  Louise  still  m; 
to  say  the  second  thing  that  came  tc  i  i 
"I've  lost  my  cat,"  she  said. 

With  a  marvelously  quick  grasp  ' 
danger  spot,  the  young  man  bounded 
tracks  and  looked  under  the  train.  H 
back  shaking  his  head  reassuringly, 
there,  anyway.  Now  you  walk  th; 
around  the  station  and  I'll  walk  this 

Louise  cast  a  guilty  glance  at  the 
wagon.  "But  I'm  holding  you  up." 

"This  is  an  emergency,"  said  the 
man.  "You  go  that  way." 

They  met,  catless,  on  the  far  side 
station. 

"Where  did  you  see  him  last?"  s;  1 
young  man. 

"Her.  Home,"  said  Louise. 

"Queer,"  said  the  young  man.  "Ca  fcsu- 
ally  stay  around  home." 

"But  you  see,"  said  Louise,  "ours  pnly 
a  part-time  cat." 


/ 


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<ame 

Address 

;ity  &  State   lmj  t-si 


I      \     l>     I     I  MM 

I  Ik-  yoiiiiM.  Miiili'<l  down  ;ii  her  "  \tifl 
wlial  IS  she  the  test  of  Ihe  linu  ?" 

l-ouisc  smiled  l)ack.  thv  sl.iiirm  waKoii 
dis;ip|)(  ar.  (l  up  I  lit-  road,  and  I>iuim<-"h  kuiIi 
with  11.  Aficr  all,  slic  had  iioi  imani  (o  kid- 
nap Natalie  I'leaHiinl's  pri/e  exhihil.  She 
hafi  only  s|X)ken  Ihe  truth.  She  /e«s  l«H)kin« 
lor  I'aws.  lliou^li  "lost"  was  |Mrlia|)H  Iim) 
slronv.  a  word,  and  from  then  on  the  yoiiiu; 
man  li.id  l.ik.  ii  ((iiiiiiiaud. 

Tiii.v  found  I'aws  on  Ihe  Sniillm'  kilchen 
steps,  of  o)iirs<-.  The  younn  man  weni  alonx 
home  with  bniise  lo  larry  I'aws,  bniisi- 
liked  him  very  much  and  lalled  Inm  Henry, 
laughed  tIeliKhledly  anfl  s;iid  he  loved 


M  I 


1    i>  I 


\  I 


llii  f-'ramrfu 

There  is  somethiite)  strange  ifi 
April 

A  man  could  never  feel, 
For  men  are  made  of  timber. 
Steel,  and  turning  wheel. 

Then  give  a  man  December, 
And  August,  or  July    .  . 
But  women  kissed  in  April 
Remembe''  till  they  die. 


Ih 

iiavitiK  her  cill  liiin  thai.  Me  was  obviously 
eiuhanled  with  I,ouise.  However,  bniim.- 
linured  liiai  would  all  iron  out  when  he  met 
(lerald  :ind  S.illy. 

She  iniiiKluad  him  lo  (.eralfl  and  Silly 
and  lie  did  seem  rather  startled  anri  liesiiant 
alKtut  slaying  for  lunch,  liul  afler  all,  as 
Louise  ix>inled  out.  il  was  lunchliine,  Afler 
lunch.  I,ouis<•^;ol  him  inio  a  name  of  lennis 
Willi  Sally  and  immediately  re^relled  il,  for 
Sally  wi|)ed  up  the  court  with  him  with  un- 
llatlerinu  ease.  Me  seemed  very  ulad.  afler 
one  set  of  (i  0,  to  throw 
himself  on  the  urass  al 
I^ouise's  feel. 

When  Sjilly  went  in 
lo  Kot  them  lemonade, 
he  .s;il  up.  "I^H)k."  he 
said.  "  I 'd  like  to  spend 
all  the  time  you'll  let 
me  rinht  here"  he 
struck  the  ground  at 
I^)uise'sfeet  "but  not 
under  false  pretenses.  I 
don't  know  why  you 
introduced  me  as  I  lenry 
Bartlu)k)mew,  but  my 
name  is  Ed^ar  Hunt." 

Louise  looked  at  him. 
"It  is?  But  you're 
part  of  the  Pleasants' 
house  parly?" 

"Never  heard  of  it," 
said  Ed^ar  Hunt. 

"But  you  got  off  the 
train,"  said  Louise. 

"  I  always  .net  off  the 
train.  I  can't  sell  a  line  /"  ■ 

of  pressure  C(X)kcrs  on  / 
the  train." 

"Pressure  cookers?"  said  Louise.  "Oh,  of 
course  you  can't."  She  saw  Sally  coming  out 
the  back  door  with  the  lemonade.  "Look, 
Hen  Edgar,  let's  not  say  anything  about 
this  little  confusion  of  mine  right  now.  You 
can  tell  Sally  gradually." 

"I  would  never  do  anything  to  embarrass 
you,"  Edgar  said. 

"I  don't  know  how  I  got  so  confused," 
said  Louise.  "Why.  I  suppose  you're  not 
even  twenty-two." 

He  Hushed  but  looked  at  her  steadily.  "/ ' 
most.  Anyway  I'm  through  college  and  if  1 
have  any  luck  with  the  c(K)kers  before  Sep- 
tember, I'll  enter  medical  school.  But  I 
don't  think  age  matters.  Do  you.  Louise?" 

Louise  was  working  in  her  rock  garden. 
She  had  heard  that  working  with  the  soil 
had  a  therapeutic  effect  on  a  troubled  mind. 
She  didn't  really  believe  il:  il  only  .gave  her 
a  backache.  But  this  morning  anything  was 
worth  trying.  Sally  had  learned  (gradually  or 
not)  Edgar  Hunt's  true  identity,  but  what 
made  Louise  unable  lo  meet  her  daughter's 
eyes  was  the  evident  fact  that  Edgar  mooned 
about  the  Lamb  cottage  for  only  one  reason. 
Louise  had  given  up  lipstick  of  any  shade, 
had  taken  to  house  dres-ses  in  place  of  slacks 
or  sun-backs,  and  had  wondered  in  a  loud 
voice  if  this  could  be  a  touch  of  rheumatism 
in  her  shoulder.  But  Edgar  continued  lo  wal- 
low contentedly  in  his  hopeless  passion. 

Only  an  hour  ago  Sally  had  taken  Gerald 
off  for  a  sail.  iGerald.  having  be,gun  writing 
his  book,  wouldn't  have  noticed  ifEdgar's 
name  had  changed  hourly.)  She  had  Lucked 
her  arm  through  her  father's  with  a  lender, 
protective  gesture  and  had  cast  a  backward 
glance  at  her  mother  as  though  Louise  made 
a  habit  of  going  to  the  railway  station  to 
pick  up  traveling  salesmen. 


Something  Strange 


S«  arcliiiiK  hiT  nun  '  ' 
wren  lo  apply  lo  K'l 

li«t(  appnuu  hmK  •"  i  .1:  .1.  .  ;  .  ■  ; 
head  riowii  But  llw  voter  ihal  •uiid  •  llrllu" 
WHH  not  Mi/ar'n. 

l^iuiM-  Hiraitflilrni-d  up  lo  »ce  a  wrwiui 
youth  of  H«v«(iii«-n  or  riKhtren  wh#j  re- 
garded her  with  Holi-rnn  brown  «-yi-«  aruJ  wild, 
"  You're  her  hihIit  ." 

"  I  a(!in»/. 'siiid  \jAHM-.  "  I'lnhrr  »w>tlu-r." 
She  re|M-al<fl  diMiinclly.  "Her  nuilhrt  " 

"  I  knew  you  muHl  Ix-  Miini-ihinK,"  Iw  «iid. 
"ThiH  iH  Ihe  iwi'Ifih  colla^'^•  I've  ln-t-n  lo. 
You  see.  I  don't  know  her  naiiw.  Mine  m 
Uolxrl  AiiHH  Wort  hen.  I'll  Ix-  a  wiph<HiwM-e 
al  I'enn  nexi  year.  My  family  have  \n.t1^ 
corning  to  Maine  for  KencralionH,  I  ^ueim, 
and  I've  brought  a  picture  of  ihetii  "  He 
whipiMfl  out  a  phoionrapli.  "Here'n  my 
mot  her  anfl  lalhi  r,  anrl  thiH  in  tny  ^rand- 
molher.  And  ihcre'M  Aiini  Ti//y  and  ihi-te 
goons  are  her  children.  iIioukIi  you  can'l 
judge  Ihe  family  by  them  ThiH  Ih  me,  but  of 
course  ihiH  picture  wan  taken  Ihrtt-  \. 
agr)  and  I  was  years  younger  then.  And  h> : 
my  uncle  "  It  was  a  large  family  group. 
Finally  he  said,  "And  I've  brought  my 
firiver's  hcensj-  loo,"  He  looked  doiiliifully 
al  l>iuise.  "IX)  you 
think  this  will  be 
enough?  She's  awfully 
conventional." 

"Oh."  sjiid  Ijouis*-, 
"You  must  Ix-  the  boy 
Siilly  met  on  the  train." 

He  glanced  uneasily 
at  her.  '  Til  admit  I 
tried  lomeet  her.  I  even 
carried  her  suilca.se. 
Thai's  really  why  I'm 
here.  I  figured  if  after 
carrying  that  suitcase 
I  still  cfjuldn'l  forget 
her  there  must  be  some- 
thing to  it.  D()  you 
think  these  credentials 
will  satisfy  her?" 

"No,"  said  Louise. 
She  looked  at  him 
sadly.  "You  see.  since 
you  saw  Sally  certain 
things  — rather,  a  cer- 
tain situation  has  de- 
veloped that  has,  I'm 
afraid,  made  her  even 
more  so." 

He  nodded  understandingly.  "She  sure  is 
conventional."  he  said.  "You  sure  brought 
her  up  well." 

"Maybe  I  overdid  it,"  said  Louise.  "Let's 
sit  down  and  think  of  something."  She  led 
the  way  lo  the  bench  under  the  pine  tree. 
"Il  would  be  better."  Louise  said,  "if  I 
could  introduce  you  as  the  son  of  my  old 
nximmate.  or  the  equivalent."  She  looked  al 
him  quest ioningly.  "Now  what  was  your 
mother's  maiden  name?" 

"Ames,"  he  said.  "Did  you  room  with  an 
Ames?" 

"  No.  How  about  Aunt  Tizzy?  " 

"Just  mother's  sister.  Ames  too.  Her 
name's  Wilson  now." 

"Go  on,"  said  Louise. 

"Well,  Aunt  Tizzy's  husband  has  a,  sister. 
She's  married  to  a  guy  named  Carton,"  he 
told  her. 

"Carton,"  said  Louise.  "That  has  a  famil- 
iar ring." 

"Boxes?"  he  said. 

"Maybe,"  said  Louise. 

"Anyway,  you  couldn't  have  roomed  with 
him." 

■  Does  he  have  a  sister?  "  said  Louise. 

Robert  .ames  worthen  clapped  a  palm  to 

his  brow  and  thought.  "Mary  I "  he  said. 

"Mary  Carton!"  said  Louise.  "Of  cou.fse! 
She  wasn't  exactly  my  roommate.  She  was 
two  years  ahead  of  me  and  I  didn't  know  her 
very  well,  but  I  can  see  her  picture  now  in  the 
yearbook.  Blonde  with  glasses.  Now  what  re- 
lation is  she  to  you?  " 

He  again  smote  his  brow.  "Gosh,  she's  my 
mother's  sister's  husband's  sister's  hus- 
band 's  Have  I  gone  too  far  ?  " 

Louise  saw  Edgar  circling  toward  them 
around  the  tennis  court.  "Look.  Robert," 
(Conlinued  on  Page  209) 


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I 


III  I 


M  I 


I    11  I 


2U*P 


(Conliniiril  frain  I'iiKf  ~(>7i 

|l.  "Yon  K<)  away  now  and  come  hiwk 
crnoon  when  Sally's  Iutc.  I'll  m- 
you  as  .  .  .  wliaU'ver  it  is.  Hut  run 
low.  No,  Ko  lliis  way."  She  ^avc-  him  a 
|iish  in  till'  opposite  direction  from 

,il)proacli 
|()  was  that?"  said  l^d^;ar  jealously, 
'down,  luiuar,"  said  Louise  "1  want 
■  ;i  serious  talk  witii  you." 
Iir  sank  amor  phously  on  the  heucli  he- 


AK,"  said  I.ouise,  "I'm  tired  o|  Ih  hil; 
ei  ^i^;ure  to  you." 

ir  looked  startled.   '1  don't  knou 
ou  mean,  Louise.  I  know  the  fact  that 
a  mother  only  makes  you  more 
luliful  to  me." 
al's  I'xactly    what    I    mean,"  said 
"And  I  don't  like  it.  I  like  beint;  a 
)tlH'r.  Mul  a  mother  linure  —     It's  so 
1   teel  like  a  hallucination."  She 
at  him  sternly.  "I  will  not  no  on  he- 
lotlier  (injure  to  you,  lul^ar." 
ai  (lushed.  "But,Ix)uise,  I  wouldn't 
n,  1  look  upon  you  as  an  ideal.  I 
I'l  do  anythinn  to— to  disruiJt  your 
The  Hush  turned  a  beet -red.  "Anyway. 
Id  never  do  anything  to  make  you 
ous." 

)u  couldn't  make  me  ridiculous,  Ed- 
ud  Louise.  "I  was  ridiculous  before 
eic  horn.  I  know  it.  I  admit  it.  But  you 
Ik  ulous  and  don't  know  it." 
lii^ht  stilTeninii,  apjx'ared  in  Edgar's 
"\'ou  call  the  kind  of  feeling  I  have 
u  ridiculous? " 

airied  beyond  a  certain  point,"  said 
I',  "most  things  are  ridiculous.  Up  to 
point,  your  feeling  is  quite  normal, 
boys  .^o  through  a  period  of  attraction 
older  woman.  It's  just  a  last  grasp  at 
lood." 

gar  sprang  up.  his  vertebrae  thoroughly 

dated.  "Am  I  to  understand  that  you 

ipon  me  as  a  ridiculous  child?" 

ut  you  don't  han'  to  be,"  said  Louise. 

joked  at  him  gently,  earnestly.  "All  you 

to  do  is  to  lace  it.  Admit  you're  ridicu- 

and  .  .  .  then  you  won't  be  any  more. 

you  won't  be  a  child  either." 

gar  did  not  speak.  He  glared. 

)h."  said  Louise,  "here's  Sally.  Did  you 

a  good  sail?" 


Sally  didn't  speak  either.  She  just  sKhkI 
Ix'fore  them.  Perhaps  "confronted "  m  the 
word  ICdgar  transferred  Iuh  glance,  ulare 
and  all,  to  Sally. 

"I  have  an  idea,"  Louise  s:iid  "  There's 
lime  tn-fore  lunch.  Why  don't  you  children 
have  a  set  of  tennis?" 

lulgar  l(K)k  a  step  toward  Sallv  "Conie 
on,"  he  said  viciously. 

"I  don't  know  what  not  into  ICdgar," 
Sally  said  to  her  parents  at  lunch.  "  I  thought 
he'd  kill  himself  on  Ihecoui't.  Mis  form  is  ter- 
rible, hut  he  iK'at  me  six  live."  Sally  s<'emed 
puz/led  but  admiring. 

"1  thought  he  might,"  said  Ixniise. 

'■  Isn't  he  eating  today?"  asked  (ieralfl. 

"lie  wouldn't  come  in,"  said  Sally.  "Said 
he'd  get  lunch  in  the  village.  Hut  lie's  coming 
back  this  afternoon  for  a  sail." 

Louise  l(K)ked  out  the  window.  "I  think 
the  breeze  is  freshening."  she  said  happily. 
Then  she  saw  Kobert  Ames  Wort  hen  making 
rapidly  toward  the  Lamb  collage.  "Excuse 
me,"  Louise  saifl  and  got  up  quickly. 

She  met  him  on  the  front  porch. 

"I  can't  make  it  out  Ix'tler  than  that  I'm 
a  sort  of  Ihree-times-removed  nephew." 
Robert  said. 

"Ne|)hew,"  Louise  said.  "That's  good 
enough."  . 

TTiumphantly,  she  led  him  into  the  house. 

"Look,"  said  Louise.  "Sally.  Cierald.  1 
want  you  to  meet  my  nephew." 

There  was  a  pause. 

"I  mean,"  said  Louise,  "oi  course.  I  mean 
a  nephew  of  an  old  school  friend  of  mine." 

("icrald  and  Robert  shook  hands.  Sally 
looked  at  her  mother. 

"  I  can  prove  it,"  said  Louise  to  Sally. 
"Her  picture's  in  my  yearbook.  Mary  Car- 
ton. Blonde  with  glasses.  The  yeartx)oks  are 
all  here  at  the  cottage  in  the  storeroom." 

In  Sally's  eyes  suspicion  faded  to  doubt. 
She  looked  at  Robert.  "Well,"  Sally  said  to 
Robert,  '"as  long  as  you're  here,  you  might 
as  well  come  sailing." 

The  Pleasants  were  the  only  summer  peo- 
ple with  a  telephone.  After  Louise  had  got 
Sally  and  Robert,  with  a  still  slightly  rigid 
but  obviously  convalescent  Edgar,  off  for 
their  sail  with  a  basket  of  sandwiches  and 
pop.  she  walked  to  the  village  and  telephoned 
Natalie  Pleasant  from  the  general  store. 


Never  Underestimate  the  Power  of  a  Woman ! 


"There's  wmieihinK  the  mattcrr  with  tlw 
connection,"  hjiuJ  Natalie  "Vfnj  uy  you 
have  an  extra  what  ?" 

'  Tin  ju-d  tuiyinK  will  it  be  all  riijht  for 
Sjilly  lo  bring  IwoestfirlH?"  Hiiul  Ixuim- 

It  wasa  HJiiisfat  lory  liU  ph<me  tall  l>iut»e 
always  had  liked  Natalie  I'leanjini  She  hart 
never  liked  her  more  than  now 

On  the  evening  of  the  I'leaiutntH'  dance, 
after  S;illy  had  departed  with  her  two  in- 
corts  and  (ierald  had  gone  to  (ierald,  Jr 's. 
ro<jn)  lo  work,  l>oiiiHe  hunted  up  her  old 
yearlKKiks.  She  (juickly  found  ihe  pictun-  h\w 
was  liH>king  for  Blonde  with  glasses,  juhi  an 
Louis*'  had  reiiiemlM-red  lur.  Ijiderneath 
the  picture  was  printed  in  light  ilalicH. 
"Mary  Lurlon  " 

I^)'iise  looked  at  it  a  long  lime.  If  Sally 
had  a  good  lime  tonight  it  was  unlikely  slie 
would  ever  think  to  ask  to  see  the  yearl>¥>k 
St  ill . .  .  I/juisi-  |)oked  up  I  he  lire  and  dropiM  d 
the  yearb<x)k  in  the  flames. 

Sally  ap|K-ared  at  breakfaHt  with  her  jKir- 

ents. 

"1  thought  you  might  sleep  late,"  Raid 
Ixniise. 

"How  was  the  party?"  said  (ierald. 

I.i()iiist;  held  her  breath.  Sjilly  swallowed  a 
quarter  of  a  bluelxTry  muHin.  "Actually," 
Sally  said,  "it  was  terrific.  I  didn't  know 
parties  could  be  so  much  fun.  In  fact,  for  me 
It  was  a  sort  of  rebirth."  This  seemed  to  re- 
mind her  of  something.  "Mother,  why  don't 
you  use  my  geology  collection  in  your  rrjck 
garden?" 

"That  would  be  lovely,"  said  Louise.  "If 
you're  sure  you  " 

Sally  was  looking  dreamily  out  the  win- 
dow. Her  eyes  focused  suddenly.  "Oh,  here 
they  are!"  She  jumped  up  and  flung  down 
her  napkin. 

"Who  are?"  Said  Gerald. 

"The  boys,"  said  Sally.  "Ed  and  Bob." 

"But  you  haven't  finished  your  break- 
fast," said  Gerald.  "You  haven't  had  any 
sleep.  You  can't  live  like  this— you're  still 
growing!" 

"I'm  not  sleepy."  said  Sally.  "And  I've 
grown  enough  and  anyway  the  hoy%  are 
bringing  hot  dogs  and  we're  going  to  sail  to 
the  point  and  build  a  fire." 

"Hot  dogs  for  breakfast!"  said  Gerald. 
"This  life  will  kill  you." 

"Oh.  daddy,"  said  Sally.  She  kissed  him 
fondly,  gave  him  a  motherly  pat  and  smiled 
at  Louise.  "Aren't  they  quaint?"  she  said. 
"Men." 

Louise  smiled  back. 

"And  while  I  think  of  it,"  said  Sally,  "  I've 
decidfti  you  should  go  back  lo  the  bright  lip- 
stick. You  get  away  with  it  very  well." 

Sally  kissed  Louise,  grabbed  up  a  sweater 
and  left  them. 

"She  can't  keep  up  this  pace,"  said  Ger- 
ald. "I  don't  know  what  you're  thinking  of, 
Louise." 

"I'm  thinking."  said  Louise,  "of  putting 
in  a  quiet  day  in  my  rock  garden." 

She  went  lo  the  window  to  watch  the 
three  young  people  swing  down  the  road. 
Gerald  came  and  looked  over  her  shoulder. 

Gerald  sighed.  Louise  recognized  il  as  a 
paternal  sigli.  and  therefore  complicated  and 
not  to  be  fully  plumbed. 

"When  you  have  a  lovely  daughter,"  said 
Gerald,  "the  men  spring  right  up  oul  of  the 
ground." 

Louise  let  this  pass  with  the  condescension 
of  the  practical  experimenter  for  the  pure 
theorist. 

"  I  take  all  the  credit."  said  Gerald.  "  If  I 
hadn't  stopped  your  meddling  right  at  the 
start,  you  would  have  made  Sally  self-con- 
scious and  scared  off  the  boys." 

Louise  heard,  but  she  was  squinting  to 
try  to  see  the  face  of  a  third  young  man 
who  had  joined  the  group  on  the  path  to  the 
cove.  He  was  tall,  dark  and  athletic. 

"Who's  that?"  said  Gerald. 

"  I  think  that  must  be  the  real  Henry 
Bartholomew,"  said  Louise. 

"How  do  you  mean  real?"  said  Gerald. 

"Logically,"  said  Louise,  "if  there  is  a 
false  Henry  Bartholomew,  there  has  to  be  a 
real  one."  the  end 


Carpel  laid  with  lacht 

r 

Tack 
Mai'ks 


\^nLo.o.L/Le.£Lg. 


TACKltSS  CARPET 
INSTALLATION 


Carpet  laid  with 

J  nLo.o.tJLe.tLg.e. 

Assures  Smooth 
Flowing  Carpet  Beauty 

Smoothedge  grips  your 
carpet  from  beneath  to 
eliminate  all  bumps  and 
puckers.  Brings  out  the 
full  beauty  of  every 
type  wall-to-wall  carpet. 
When  you  are  shopping 
for  carpet  ask  the  sales- 
man to  show  you  the 
Smoothedge  demon- 
stration display. 


This  valuable  booklet  me!  Send  for  if! 
r  1 

THE  ROBERTS  CO..  Dept.  LH  M  j 

1S36  N.  Indiana  St.,  Los  Angeles  63.  California  | 

Please  send  me  my  free  copy  of  "How  I  Got  My  I 
Money's  Worth  in  Carpet," 


Address^ 


.Slate_ 


City  

Note:  In  Canada  write  Box  129,  Weston,  Canada 


Back-Yard  Transformation:  a  a 

plan  for  $70  a  year:  $350  in  all 


ve-year 


First  the  pines  were  planted — $20  apiece.  In  five  years  they  grew  twice  as  big,  would  now  cost  $100  apiece 
planted.  The  ground  was  leveled  the  same  first  year,  paved  the  next.  The  fencing  went  up  the  third  Shrubs 
were  planted  as  shown  on  schedule.  The  arbor  was  built  the  fourth  year.  And  the  plastic  roof  went  on  the  fifth. 


Schedulf:  of  Work  and  M.\tkri.\ls 


1st  stage: 

:^ND  ST.\GE: 

3rd  STAGE : 
4TH  STAGE : 

.Stfi  stage: 


Establish  levels;  7  railroad  ties  for  walls  . 
Plant  5  Ilex  crenata  (#4)  2' -2 '  ■/  (L"  $4 
Plant  2  Scotch  pines  (#2  )  7' -8' high  (a.  $20 

2000  old  brick,  with  sand  to  spread  under 
Plant  2  gray  birch  clumps  (i9)  5'-6'  @  $5 

Lumber,  nails  and  paint  for  fencing  .  .  . 

Plant  6  Ilex  crenata  ( #7)  12"  <&  $1 
Lumber,  nails  and  paint  for  arbor  .... 


$10.00 
20.00 
40.00 

60.00 
10.00 

70.00 

6.00 
64.00 


Back-Yard  Tramjormalion, 
No.  2601,  a  work  sheet  thai 
details  how  to  do  it  all, 
suggests  variations  Jor  different 
house-and-lot  layouts  and 
levels,  way  be  obtained 
for  25  cents  jrom  the 
Reference  Lilnary. 
Ladies'  Home  Journal, 
Philadelphia  5,  Pa. 
Use  coupon  on  Page  26. 


drying  yard  j 

V 

V  V 


By  RICHARD  PRATT 


Plant2PyracanthaLalandi  (#5)5"pots(f/  $2  .  4.00 

Plant  1  Ilexrotundifolia  (#3)  2'-3' (a<$7     .   .   .  7.00 

Plant  2  Deutzia  gracilis  (#6)  15"-18"     8.5c  .   .  1.70 

Plant  2  Weigelia  Eva  Rathke  (#8)  1 1  ■/  -2'     75c  1.50 

Plant  1  Euonymous  vegetus  (g'  $2.30   2.30 

Plywood  or  plastic  material  for  arbor  roof   .   .   .  53.00 

Total  $349.50 


THE  ground  inside  tlic  fencing  gets  leveled  of!  true,  like  a  floor.  The  arbor  floor  here  was  one 
level.  The  grass  and  garden  floor  next  to  it  was  slightly  lower.  The  difference  in  levels  was 
neatly,  easily  taken  up  by  laying  in  old  railroad  ties  between,  like  low  retaining  walls.  The 
paving  here  is  old  brick  laid  on  a  two-inch  bed  of  sand.  You'll 'always  be  glad  you  leveled  and 
paved.  It  will  add  immeasurably  to  the  looks  and  feel  of  your  garden. 

The  Journal  fencing  is  staggered  to  give  a  roomlike  feeling  inside;  to  give  stability  too. 
Notice  how  it  steps  up  from  low,  where  privacy  is  least  important,  to  high,  where  you  dine, 
entertain,  sun-bathe — where  privacy  is  most  important.  The  alternating-board  design  is  for 
light,  air  and  looks.  It  is  a  wonderful  fence  on  which  to  grow  vines. 

The  shrubs  were  st^lected  for  year-round  attractiveness:  summer  brightness,  winter  green- 
ness. Consult  your  local  nurseryman  if  climate  conditions  require  substitutions. 

Look  upon  the  arbor  as  a  useful  and  pleasant  covered  connection  between  house,  garden 
and  garage.  Its  posts  are  secondhand  4x4's;  all  the  top  is  secondhand  2x4's.  Tying  into  house 
and  garage  gives  it  extra  stability;  it  gives  house  and  garage  extra  good  looks,  extra  service  and 
extra  room.  The  plastic  sheeting  on  top,  which  softens  the  sunlight  and  sheds  the  rain,  is 
the  final  touch  to  the  five-year  plan.  If  you  don't  need  its  translucency,  use  exterior  plywood. 


pride 
and  joy 
of 

your  bath 

Bath-beauty  colors 
your  guests  will  admire, 
your  family  will  enjoy, 
uxurious  Super-Spongy  texture 
to  dry  you  speedily, 
gently.  You  get  both  color 
loveliness  and  super- 
absorbency  in  Cone  Towels. 
See  them  now  in  new 
Lilac  and  Dusty  Rose, 
in  deep  tones  and  delicate 
pastels  from  39<  to  1.98. 


SUPER-SPONGY 


CONE  TOXVEI  S 


ZJilxlil   **-'COMC  MILLS  INC  ,  59  Worth  St.,  New  York     Makers  of:  CONE  Corduroy  •  CONE  deeptone*  Denim  •  CONE  Ploy  Denim  •  CONE  Plisse  •  CONE  Velvelette*    Uood  Houiek.«plng  , 


212 


I,  A  n  I  K 


II    O    M  E 


,1    O    I     H     \     \  I, 


'4pril,  1953 


There's  added 
health  protection 
in  a  bathroom 
that's  CLOROX-clean! 

Millions  of  housewives  include 
Clorox  in  routine  cleaning  of 
bathroom  and  kitchen.  Clorox 
removes  stains,  deodorizes,  dis- 
infects. It's  the  most  efficient 
germ-killer  of  its  kind  ...  a  type 
of  disinfectant  recommended  by 
public  health  authorities! 

Bathroom  and  kitchen  surfaces 
such  as  wash  basins,  tubs,  toilet 
bowls,  floors,  drainboards  and 
sinks  often  harbor  harmful  germs. 
You  provide  added  health  pro- 
tection for  your  family  when  you 
clean  regularly  with  Clorox! 

And  CLOROX  makes  cottons  and 
linens  sanitary,  too! 

When  you  launder  your 
white  and  color-fast 
cottons  and  linens  with 
Clorox,  you  moke  them 
more  than  snowy-white, 
color-bright. .  .you  remove  stains, 
deodorize,  moke  linens  sanitary, 
too.  And  Clorox  conserves  linens. 
It's  extra  gentle,  free  from  caustic, 
made  by  an  exclusive,  patented 
formula!  Directions  on  the  label. 


a  red  flare  and  came  up,  bugling,  howling, 
shooting  and  throwing  their  uncountable 
grenades.  We  didn't  have  a  prayer  of  holding 
them  with  a  line.  They  hit  both  flanks  and 
overran  the  Second  Platoon,  driving  up  so 
fast  we  barely  stopped  them  at  the  peak  with 
the  radio  operators  and  messengers.  I  fran- 
tically formed  a  new  line,  expecting  them  to 
hit  before  it  was  complete.  But  something 
held  them  up  for  a  few  minutes  and  I  heard 
the  unmistakable  firing  of  stubborn  Amer- 
ican rifles  down  in  the  dark  patch  where  the 
First  Platoon  had  once  existed.  They  hit 
again,  but  we  had  a  perimeter  now  and  only 
had  to  draw  up  a  little  tighter  as  men  fell. 
They  hit  two  more  times,  and  managed  for 
a  few  intense  moments  to  pour  over  the  thin 
line,  but  the  mortar  men  shot  them  down 
between  their  mortars  and  we  held.  When 
day  broke  we  defended  only  the  very  peak. 
But  that  was  enough,  and  the  attackers 
melted  down  the  ravines  while  we  pushed  out 
again  down  the  ridges. 
We  had  won. 

The  morning  was  difficult  as  we  tried  to 
clear  out  our  own  casualties  and  their  dead, 
because  they  kept  pouring  steel  into  the  hill 
in  frustrated  vengeance.  I  had  to  dive  for 
cover  often  as  I  moved  around  the  company 
front. 

I  had  just  topped  the  last  rise  of  ground 
near  the  end  of  the  First  Platoon  positions, 
and  started  down  the  saddle  when  the  faint 
clii((^  chug  sounds  of  distant  mortars  came  to 
me.  I  stopped  for  a  second  and  looked  for  a 
place  to  go.  Then  the  first  whispering  sent 
me  flying  into  the  bunker  ahead.  The  shells 
slammed  down  all  around  and  I  hugged  the 
dirt  floor. 

At  last  it  let  up  and  I  crawled  forward. 
There  was  a  crumpled  figure  ahead.  I  saw  a 
tan  boot. 

Private  William  Tilson,  Jr.,  was  lying  for- 
ward as  if  asleep,  his  new  boot  soles  turned 
up.  The  new  green  helmet  lay  beside  him, 
stained  and  dark.  His  bright  rifle  still  rested 
on  the  parapet  with  a  shattered  stock,  and 
an  empty  ammunition  bandoleer  hung  limply 
from  a  peg.  An  envelope  lay  beside  him,  with 
the  letter  in  the  dirt  beneath  it. 

How  did  he  die?  I  could  guess. 

An  explosion  jabs  into  the  light  sleep  of 
Private  Tilson.  He  opens  his  eyes  and  lies 
tensely  in  the  bottom  of  the  foxhole,  listen- 
ing. 

Everything  is  quiet. 

Whistle,  slam !  Another  explosion  right  in 
front  of  his  position. 

Tilson  crawls  up  and  looks  carefully  over 
the  parapet.  Blackness.  Nothing. 

Whang !  A  jagged  flash  off  to  the  right  and 
a  metallic  explosion. 

Somebody  is  firing  mortars  at  the  ridge 
where  his  foxhole  is.  Everything  else  is  quiet 
except  for  the  click  of  metal  over  to  the 
right  where  Matta  and  Clark  have  a  fox- 
hole. 

Suddenly  a  red  ball  rises  quickly  far  out  in 
front  of  him,  arching  and  burning  out  as  it 
starts  down  again.  A  rifle  snaps.  Then  two 
more  and  all  along  the  ridge  weapons  start 
firing.  Down  the  ravine  a  small  white  glow 
grows  into  brightness  and  light  fills  the  trees 
and  bushes.  A  flare  has  been  tripped  and 
Tilson  sees  figures  coming  up  the  hill.  They 
are  not  shooting  yet.  They  are  just  a  mob  in 
the  smoking  white  light.  They  are  enemy. 

Real  fear  stabs  at  Private  Tilson  for  the 
first  time. 

Here  they  come. 

What  shall  I  do? 

What  shall  I  do? 

He  yells  to  Matta  and  is  answered  by  a 
muffled  cry.  He  looks  down  the  ravine  again 
with  a  rising  fear  before  he  remembers  his 
rifle. 

Get  my  rifle  ready. 
Get  my  grenades  ready. 
Get  ready. 

Jagged  thoughts  rush  through  Tilson's 
head  and  his  heart  pounds.  The  rustling 
mass  of  sound  is  nearer  and  the  light  is  out. 


DEATH  OF  A  SOLDIER 

(Continued  from  Page  70) 

Wait.  I  can't  see  them.  Wait  for  light.  He 
clicks  off  the  safety  on  his  rifle  and  points  it 
down  the  ravine.  He  stacks  some  more  clips 
along  the  parapet.  He  peers  into  the  dark- 
ness below.  They  are  very  noisy,  he  thinks. 
His  palms  are  wet. 

A  parachute  flare  pops  above  and  in  the 
sudden  reddish  light  firing  begins  again  on 
his  right.  Mortar  shells  whisper  down  behind 
him  and  explode.  Then  he  really  sees  them. 
Six  figures  down  about  fifty  yards.  One  stops 
for  a  moment.  Tilson  sights  and  fires.  The 
sound  and  recoil  startle  him.  He  fires  again, 
and  the  Chinese  below  begin  shooting.  The 
first  rip  of  fire  tears  by  Tilson's  head.  A 
machine  gun  replies.  The  ravine  comes  alive 
with  red  twinkles. 

Tilson  fires,  looking  for  something  defi- 
nite, something  slow,  but  everything  is  quick 
and  fluid  and  the  twinkles  are  lost  too  soon 
in  the  blackness.  A  surprising  figure  looms 
ahead  and  fires,  but  it  goes  down  quickly. 
Another  flare.  More  figures,  crawling.  The 
crackle  of  rifles  mingles  with  thumping  of 
grenades  and  yelling  of  high-pitched  voices. 

Something  comes  looping  up  toward  him 
and  explodes  right  in  front  of  him. 

Then  they  rush,  screaming,  as  he  fires 
blindly.  Slugs  tear  into  the  earth  beside  him. 
Another  flare.  Two  figures  on  the  right. 
Throw  a  grenade.  More  on  the  left.  They're 
everywhere.  I'm  doing  what  they  told  me  to 
do!  Fire  faster,  faster!  Please,  gun,  don't 
jam.  Oh,  please  don't  jam.  I  can't  stop  them. 
A  blinding  flash.  Dirt.  Throw  a  grenade, 
another  and  another.  A  figure  jumps  up,  arm 
back.  Tilson  fires.  The  figure  falls  and  rolls. 

Another  flare.  They're  everywhere.  I  can't 
stop  them.  /  can'l  stop  them  and  they  are  going 
to  kill  me. 

The  thought  drains  away  as  another  comes 
drumming  through  his  head. 


Get  out.  Go  back  ivhile  there  is  time  and  rut, 
run,  run.  j 

It  makes  him  stop  firing.  He  looks  back  m 
the  dark  trench  that  goes  over  the  hill  be 
hind.  The  enemy  fires,  yells  and  moves.  Hi 
hears  a  GI  yell  out  a  curse  and  fire  his  rifle 
fast,  four  times. 

And  he  realizes  that  all  along  there  hav( 
been  men  near  him,  to  his  right  and  to  hi 
left.  And  he  knows  that  one  of  them  is  stil 
there. 

And  William  Tilson,  Jr.,  leans  forward  am 
begins  firing  methodically  into  the  darkness 
He  puts  his  fear  down  like  a  toy  and  become, 
calm  and  deadly. 

He  is  not  going  to  leave. 

For  reasons  born  in  the  depths  of  hin 
unrecognized  even  by  himself,  William  Ti 
son,  Jr.,  son  of  William  Tilson,  the  keeper  ^ 
a  little  store,  son  of  Bertha  Tilson,  the  talk 
tive  woman,  brother  of  Frank  Tilson, 
married  clerk,  makes  his  decision.  He  fir 
again  and  again,  standing  in  his  foxhole, 
the  point  of  no  return  goes  past  in  the  ra 
of  time  and  bullets.  And  in  a  dim  room  whe 
William  Tilson,  Jr.,  is  alone,  a  door  clo 
and  the  black  waters  of  certainty  spre 
across  the  floor,  lapping  at  his  legs. 

But  for  that  instant,  the  world  of  Willia 
Tilson,  Jr.,  is  in  perfect  balance. 

Then  the  yelling  is  thunder,  and  the  thu 
der  is  death. 

Artillery  rumbled  somewhere  and  far 
the  northeast  white  smoke  obscured  a 
for  a  moment  and  then  streamed  of?  in  a  lo 
low  cloud,  leaving  the  peak  sharp  and  d 
against  the  sky. 

I  picked  up  the  envelope  and  letter 
looked  for  a  while  at  the  clear  blue  wor 
written  across  the  top: 

My  Dear  Son   the  e 


:>< 


=5$ 

X 


X 


X 

X 


X 
X 


TH\S  IS  A 
WA7-CHB/RD 
WATCH/NG  A 
WALL 


tM'5  is  h 
Watcm6\RD 

mrcmo  YOU 


By  3tunro  i.eaf 

A  VERY,  very  unhelpful  person  to  have  around  a  house  is 
a  'V('all-Vt  rerker.  This  one  started  out  with  just  a  penril  to  srrib- 
hle  pictures  on  ihe  nice,  clean  wallpaper,  then  it  used 
its  crayons  and  at  last  found  a  bucket  of  paint. 
I'eople  mifjht  like  ils  pictures  if  it  put  them  on 
p;iper  where  ihey  belon;;.  but  nobody  can  like  its 
pictures,  or  it  either,  when  it  is  a  wall-wrecker. 


TH'S  MONfH? 


When  it's  CLOROX-clean... 
it's  SAFER  for  Family  Health! 


'•  '>     '     I      ^  '        II     O     \l     I,        J     O     I      U     N    A  I. 


'xcitin^  new  : 


hinps  arQ 


haDDQninp  in 


A 

U 


Nylon  rides  ahead 
n  fashion. ..in  color. ..and  in 
the  handsome  cars  off  '53! 


a 


■W.U.S.PAT.Of'- 

BETTER  THINGS  FOR  BETTER  IIVING  .  .  .  THROUGH  CHEMISTRY 


There's  a  new  hxik  to  automobile 
upholstery!  A  new  look  born  ol  nylon 
. .  .vibrant  colors . . .  exciting  fashion . . .  rich 
textures.  X't  here?  In  the  leading  models 
of  practically  every  make  of  car  in  .Vmerica! 

Why?  Any  woman  can  tell  you.  Because 
nylon  fibers  make  upholstery  that  just 
about  outlasts  anything  on  wheels.  And 
nylon  fabrics  stay  fresh  as  paint . . .  just 
let  the  dog  and  the  babies  prove  it! 
Ordinary  spots  wipe  off  so  simply, 


so  easily — and  nylon  smiles  like  new! 

Wouldn't  you  like  upholstery  like  that 
in  your  living  room?  Isn  t  it  fun  to  know 
that  these  days  you  can  have  it?  Draperies, 
too — and  rugs  that  livo  through  all  the 
voars  that  make  a  house  a  home.  Look  for 
nylon  when  you  shop — for  home  furnish- 
ings, for  fabrics,  for  fashions — for  all 
the  exciting  new  things  that  are  happening 
in  nylon. ..\ our  stores  have  them — now — 
ready  for  your  way  of  Modern  Living! 


-Pi  t=>  e  s 


214 


LADIES'       HOME       J    O    II    R    \    \  L 


That's  Geraldine  Eifert,  of  St.  Louis,  talking.  She's 
a  Service  Representative  with  Soiithwestern  Bell  Tele- 
'phone  Company  .  .  .  one  of  the  helpful  young  women 
in  the  business  office  who  handles  orders  for  telephone 
service,  answers  questions  about  bills,  directory  listings, 
and  so  forth. 

len  I  went  looking  for  a  job, '  says 
Geraldine,  "the  first  place  I  thought  of  was 
the  telephone  company.  I  was  looking  for  a 
nice  place  to  work,  with  good  pay  —  and  I  have 
not  been  disappointed! 

"My  job  is  so  interesting.  It's  a  wonder- 
ful feeling  to  be  able  to  help  people.  And  the 
other  girls  in  the  office  are  friendly  and  easy 
to  work  with.  In  fact,  there  are  so  many  good 
things  about  my  job— regular  salary  increases, 
opportunities  for  advancement,  vacations  with 
pay,  to  name  just  a  few— that  I've  interested 
my  friends  in  telephone  careers,  too. 

"Yes,  I  like  working  for  the  telephone  com- 
pany—and I  wouldn't  trade  jobs  with  anyone!" 

BELL  TELEPHONE  SYSTEM  #^ 
"A  Good  Place  to  Work" 


DIARY  OF  DOMESTICITY 


(Continued  from  Page  35) 


much  easier.  We  just  never  thought  we  could 
have  them! 

Also  many  of  us,  these  days,  hook  in  all 
kinds  of  equipment  and  never  give  a  thought 
to  what  it  is  hooked  on.  Sadly  Mr.  Nathan 
confided  that  one  of  our  circuits  or  whatever 
it  is  that  should  have  eight  things  on  it  had 
twenty-seven!  Never  saw  anything  like  it, 
said  he. 

It  occurs  to  me  some  kind  of  state  re-in- 
spection of  house  wiring  to  keep  it  safe  and  up 
to  date  might  save  many  lives,  for  so  many  fires 
are  reported  as  "due  to  defective  wiring." 

Midday,  over  coffee,  we  all  discussed  these 
things,  and  I  learned  a  great  deal  about  house 
construction  and  electricity  as  well  as  ma- 
sonry and  general  contracting.  I  shall,  pre- 
sumably, never  build  a  new  house,  or  do  any 
more  renewing  of  this  blessed  old  one,  but  it 
was  all  so  interesting  that  I  longed  to  share 
the  salty  wisdom  of  these  men. 

New  lamps,  I  discovered,  direct  light  just 
where  you  need  it.  New  circuit-biw.'vtr 
boxes  protect  against  short  circuits  and  ov.;r- 
loads.  Any  child  could  run  a  house  where 
you  can't  put  in  a  30-ampere  fuse  where  a 
15  is  due.  In  short,  no  matter  how  the  H- 
bomb  progresses,  some  people  are  still  ad- 
vancing good  and  safe  living  in  homes  where 
you  raise  your  children.  Nice  to  know ! 

April  is  a  lovely  month.  Still  cold,  when  I 
got  up  early  to  let  the  dogs  out,  the  sky  was 
blazing  with  color.  The  reward  of  Northern 
living  is  color  that  cannot  be  borne  more  than 
a  minute  or  two,  it  is  too  lovely.  "The  glory 
of  the  Lord,"  I  said,  as  the  dogs  skipped  past 
me  and  adventured  on  the  wet  lawn.  1  oward 
evening  the  sky  is  the  color  of  moonstone,  so 
pure  and  so  glowing. 

It  is,  I  admit,  infernally  damp  in  April  in 
New  England.  We  have  a  wise  and  generous 
doctor  in  the  village  who  got  tired  of  looking 
out  at  Park  Avenue  and  retired—  he  thought 
he  was  retiring — to  our  remote  fastness,  pre- 
sumably to  take  life  a  bit  easier.  No  sooner 
did  he  open  his  office  in  the  olJ  red  store 
building  than  everybody  in  the  village  came 
down  with  things.  In  the  very  coldest  weather, 
people  seem  healthy,  but  the  soft  seductive 
airs  of  early  spring,  the  damp  mud  under- 
foot— and  a  new  virus  immediately  takes 
over.  Doctor  Ghiselin  and  his  charming 
nurse-wife  hardly  have  time  to  snatch  a 
quick  meal.  Sitting  in  the  olfice  waiting  for 
first  aid  for  my  sinus.  I  watched  the  people 
come:  the  lean  weathered  men  with  broken 
arms  or  wrenched  backs,  pale  tired  women 
with  two  or  three  children  pulling  at  them, 
the  young  lawyer  who  commutes  daily  to  the 
city  and  also  has  a  sinus,  the  farmer  who  ex- 
plains that  his  stomach  just  turned  upside 
down  in  the  night. 


In  twenty-five  years,  this  is  our  firs 
tor  in  our  village.  It  makes  me  wonde 
more  young  doctors  don't  go  where  thi 
is  as  great  as  in  the  big  cities— grea' 
fact,  for  the  cities  have  clinics  and 
centers  and  hospitals. 

The  first  time  I  met  the  doctor  a 
wife  at  the  market,  I  felt  so  proud, 
went  our  very  own  doctor  bustling 
carrying  a  sack  of  groceries  and  then 
our  own  doctor's  wife,  smiling  her 
smile  as  she  carried  the  grapefruit  i 
counter. 

Oamp  and  chilly  it  is,  and  at  night 
has  a  sharp  clean  smell.  But  midday  t 
is  really  warm  again,  and  there  is  ; 
sense  of  life  beginning,  of  the  ancient  i 
miracle  of  growth.  Snowdrops  and  tl- 
cate  blue  scilla,  the  dogtooth  viole 
swelling  buds  on  maple  and  lilac,  thi 
exciting. 

I  know  of  no  more  marvelous  contei 
than  standing  at  the  rise  of  the  mor 
freshly  plowed  garden.  Oh,  this  is  the 
to  the  troubled  world,  that  we  plai 
nourish  the  seed,  that  we  grow  the  1 
feed  the  hungry,  and  thai  we  give  i 
richness  to  those  who  do  not  have  il 

Could  everyone  in  our  country  of 
and  sun  raise  double  his  own  quo 
could  that  extra  be  sent  over  the  wic 
seas  to  a  needy  family,  even  the  grea 
ace  to  the  world  would  diminish.  I  wo 
to  share  my  asparagus  with  a  fearful 
family,  and  know  their  burdens  we 
as  the  plates  went  round.  For  they  o 
in  saddest  plight,  imprisoned  by  th 
government. 

Fortunate  breathers  of  the  air  are 
can  think  as  we  please,  live  as  we  wis 
ship  freely,  even  spank  our  children 
wondering  whether  they  will  report 
committee! 

Fortunate  to  breathe  the  damp  ch 
in  April,  and  know  the  garden  seasoi 
ginning  again.  And  that  all  the  doj 
trimming !  The  winter  coats  are  shag 
time  to  smooth  and  civilize  the  coats 
out  asking  anybody  whether  it's  prot 

Sister  says  she  likes  April,  with 
nace  turned  low,  the  freezer  breathii 
and  her  small  self  wedged  between 
and  Jonquil  on  the  best  part  of  the  b 

Jonquil  adventures  out  at  one  a 
stays  until  two.  I  lean  and  look  at  tl 
elegance  of  the  sky  and  wait,  because 
cold  for  her  to  stay  out  until  breakfa 
bit  or  no  rabbit.  I  get  very  sleepy  an 
but  the  sky  is  like  a  miracle  and,  I 
worth  a  little  lost  sleep. 

For  April  is  a  wonderful  month 
England !  Tl 


il-Days 


Uu  Han  01.  tlfiffrnan 


Grass  sprouts  underfoot,  the  crust 

in  the  air  turns  gentle, 
And  wind-warmed  icicles  melt  in  a 

musical  mist; 
When  daffodil-days  pour  their 

dazzling  light,  sentimental 
Haze  blurs  my  senses;  I'm 

powerless.  Who  can 

resist 

Remembering  then?  I  think,  "It  is 

spring"  It's  spring  — 
And  we've  met,  and  the  world 

whirls  round  in  my  tic-toe 

heart ! 

Hand  in  hand  through  the  city 
with  you,  you  lovely  thing, 


I  walked  in  a  warless  world  where 

nothing  could  thwart 
The  way  of  our  love  .  .  . 

This  wind  from  the  soft  south 

blowing 

Wimples  our  memories  now  of 

those  younger  days, 
But  dear  as  they  were,  our  love 

was  much  smaller  then. 
Smaller,  when  true-love's  adoratioi 

shone  in  each  face? 
Ah,  great  were  our  hearts  then,  | 

but  greater  to  us  is  the 

knowing 

That  despite  the  world's  winters,  ow 
spring  comes  again,  and  agairi 


Printed  ip-' 


Th  KiguiMe  919 SeI'm  It 


4 


^  THE  MAN  IN  C^um^S^M^^ 

-^f^imXyJm  f\AM^     BY  EDWARD  HO^E  •  COM. 

I  WANT  MY  BABIES  .  .  .  oW. ^  ^uja'cfiy ^ 


SUE 


WHAT  JOE  SAW  IN  THE  OTHER  WOMAN 


CAN  THIS  MARR'iAGL  ^  c  SAVED 


PROVED  PROTECTION  FOR  YOU  AND  YOUR  CHILDREN 

^Mew  ipana  Destroys  Deca; 
and  Bad-Breath  Bacteria 


New,  Exclusive,  Bacteria-Fighting  Formula!  Your  Teeth  and 
Breath  Stay  Cleaner.  .  .You  Reduce  Decay  Better! 


THINK  of  the  trouble,  pain  and  expense  of  just  one 
tooth  cavity  in  vour  family.  Think  of  how  un- 
pleasant breath  can  hurt  you  or  your  husband,  even 
hold  him  back  at  work. 

Then  read  this:  Research  scientists  proved  that 
regular  after-meal  brushing  with  new  Ipana  reduced 
bacteria  in  the  mouth  —  including  decay  and  bad- 
breath  bacteria  —  by  an  avenii^e  of  S4"... 

Yes,  now  you  can  get  proved  protection  against 
troublesome  bacteria  found  in 
everyone's  mouth.  Just  be  sure  to 
clean  your  teeth  with  new  white 
Ipana. 

Ask  your  dentist.  Chances  are, 
he'll  tell  you  that  new  Ipana  Tooth 
Paste  effectively  reduces  tooth  de- 
cay, when  used  regularly  after  eat- 


ing. In  laboratory  tests,  new  Ipana  stopped  offensive 
mouth  odor  even  after  4  hours — in  every  case. 

And  don't  forget  your  gums.  Brushing  teeth  from 
gum  margins  toward  biting  edges  with  new  Ipana 
helps  remove  irritants  that  can  lead  to  gum  troubles. 

Liked  2  to  1  For  Flavor 

Children  love  the  taste  of  n?w  bacteria-fighting 
Ipana.  Its  new,  more  refreshing  flavor  was  approved 


2  to  1  by  thousands  of  men,  women  and  children  who 
tried  it  at  home. 

Discover  what  this  new  good-tasting  white  Ipana 
can  do  for  the  mouth  health  of  your  family.  Get  it  in 
the  yeliow-and-red  striped  carton  wherever  fine  drug 
products  are  sold.  Or  use  the  coupon  below. 

SEND  FOR  GENEROUS  TRIAL- SIZE  TUBE.  We're 

so  sure  vou'il  like  new  uhilc  Ipana  better  than  any 
other  tooth  paste  that  we"ll  gladl\  send  \ou  a  gener- 
ous trial-size  tube — enough  for  about  25  brushings. 
Fill  in  and  mail  coupon  today. 


BRISTOL-MYERS  CO..  Dept.  L-53 
630  Fifth  Ave..  New    ork  20.  N.  Y. 


Kindly  send  me  a  trial  tube  of  new  Ipana.  Enclosed  is 
3c  stamp  to  cover  part  of  cost  of  packing  and  mailing. 


Name_ 


Street, 


The  Tooth  Paste  that  Destroys 

Decay  and  Bad-Breath  Bacteria 


City^ 


JZ.one_ 


^tate_ 


(O0er  good  in  continrnial  t  .S  A.  only.  Expires  Aug.  I.  1953. > 


IOO%  Mild  Palmolive  Soap  Helps  You  Guard  that 


Sx!^!)(h^  CoiMpfe^^  Look! 


Gentle  Beauty  Care— Lovely 
Marilyn  King  of  Sargent  College, 
Boston,  says:  "I  use  no  other  beauty 
aid.  Palmolive  gives  me  everything  I 
need  for  gentle  beauty  care." 


Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  Is  Far  Better  For  Your  Skin  Than 
"Just  Average  Care''  With  Any  Leading  Toilet  Soap! 


Yes,  Softer,  Smoother,  Brighter  Skin 

—  that  Sclioolgirl  Complexion  Look  — 
most  women  can  have  it  within  14  days. 
Thirty-six  leading  skin  specialists  have 
proved  it  in  actual  tests  on  twelve  hun- 
dred and  eighty-five  women. What's  more, 
these  prominent  doctors  found  that 
Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  is  unquestioniibly 
better  for  your  skin  than  "just  average 
care"  with  any  leading  toilet  soap. 

*No  therapeutic  claim  is 


So  don't  lose  another  day!  Change  to 
Palmolive's  Beauty  Plan  .  .  .  gently  mas- 
sage Palmolive's  100%  mild,  pure  lather 
onto  your  skin  for  60  seconds,  3  times  a 
day.  Rinse  with  warm  water,  splash  with 
cold  and  pat  dry.  In  14  days  or  less,  you 
can  have  softer,  smoother,  brighter  skin, 
because  Palmolive  brings  out  beauty 
while  it  cleans  your  skin.  So  get  100% 
mild  Palmolive  Soap  today! 

made  for  the  chlorophyll. 


Nature's 
Chlorophyir 

is  In  Every  Cake  Of 
Palmolive  Soap  .  .  .  That's  What 
Makes  Palmolive  Green! 


/00%  Ni\lD\  DOCTORS  PROVE  PALMOLIVE  BRINGS  OUT  BEAUTY  WHILE  IT  CLEANS  YOUR  SKINI 


I.I 


I  lll>|M 


laic. 


.gll^^^  l'!i>\\  lion.  {I'll,- 
^^^^  iiinlis  fur  MiclwUf. 
.  |IH  I'a-.'  II)  "I 
'  .sci'M'il  ill  ilic  Niivv  in 
'  ^  \V..il,l  \V;ir  I.  in  lllr 
\iiii\  ihf  iic\l.  Willi 
"111  cM-i  licinn  mIhiI 
il.  I  \i'  lici-n  iiiarricil 
iiiil\  iini'i',  slill  am 
ami  ^liid  (if  il.  I've 
lii'i'ii  a  wiitci'  iiKiic 
llian  hall  iiiv  lilc  In 
hilt  I  (Icnv  llial  I  am  as  old  as  a 
(•(iiii|iaiisoii  ol  iiiv  Vfarol  hirtli  willi  llic 
dale  (in  this  iiia^a/iiu'  Wduid  indicate.  I 
demand  llic  i  if;lil  Id  he  us  old  us  1  feci." 

When  a  man  savs 
his  wdi  k  is  his  h(ihh\ . 
as  Ai.Ki  H\(K(i\VK 
does,  tiicii  writes 
thrilHiif;ly  ahoiit  a 
linwc,  il  doesn't  sceni 
lair.  He  lives  and 
loafs  in  Clearwater. 
Florida,  too.  His  other 
hig  hobhy  is  oilier 
people's  children, 
through  Boy  Scout  activities.  Born  in 
Loudon,  he  worked  for  various  news- 
pa[)ers  liei  e  and  ahroad,  before  turning 
to  fiction.  Glory  Hoy.  Page  l(),  is  a  storv 
of  love,  tennis  and  courage. 


"Mav  I  toss  my  wife,  .loan,  a  hou- 
quet?"  asks  Bkknik  Peyton,  Jn.  ( How 
Young  America  Lives.  Page  1.51).  "Tv" 
almost  never  underestinialcd  hci 
power — the  exception  being  to  submii 
articles  without  her  O.K.,  hoping  to 
surprise  her  in  print.  This  short  cut  al- 
ways turned  out  to  be  a  short  circuit. 
Now  she  gets  the  story  first,  murmurs  'I 
don't  understand'  every  other  para- 
graph, weathers  my  monumental  rages 
and  calmlv  sets  me  straighter.  We  live 
in  Manhattan,  where  I  work  on  the 
Herald  Tribune,  have  a  son  nearly 
three,  and  a  year-old  daughter." 


l-'irfwiirk*  for  Mii  lirllr 

I  lie  Slriiii^rr  (I  ir.l  |>.iil  >A  llim  ) 

(•ll>r\  liny 
(  Viii-  iiiiil  I  >iir 

I  he  I  i.iij:  Ni)>lil 

law  .hiiiic»iiii  ( (  ioiM'lii'iiiii  I 


i.tllllllll  ll'l/l: 


I  1 14 II  Ih  lmiii 
i   Hill  kiill  I- 
Kiilh  f<>ff(/»(i 
I  >  / ,  /I  /   / /(III  <■» 

//.,...-  Ml, 1, 11. t 


I  I'lfiltll  \     I  lliillliisiill 

Mill  L"iii  l  Ilirki'Y 
l,ri,Jii  \  IliHl-U 


,-Vlcr  Harkow* 


S|t<M-i>il  l-'«'iiliir<--- 

\llllTli'il'.  \,,.   I    llr.illli  rri.lilriil 
<  tiir  (iiiil^.-l^  .Si  i  I  ,  I 

i'riiiiiiiii:  fur  <  iliililliirl li 

I'lif  ^  .\\  .<  :.  \.  — il  j'iiiiii-cr  of  I'ruv'rr^n 

I'Ih-  Mini  ill  (,)iireii  l'!lj/.iil)Clir>  l.ilr 
(iiiii  Tlii-,  Marriii);c  lie  .Siivril!'  (I  irili  ..f  ^i  «rrn--) 

^  oiiii^  I'liiMimi  Cirl  I 'ill  III  inn  In  I  iiiiiiil  I  iiii  (.mji 

I >r%i  i  i/ilinii  In  .liiliii  II  iill.i  i 

S\  by  W  an  I  H.irir:' 

Mow  ^  nmi;;  VmiTica  Livi-  (  )iii  T  ir-l  Near  lliiiinnl  I'lUmi.  Ji. 
I'oliliral  l'il<:riiii-«  ( iarrv  ()ii 

Tin-  "How -l(i-(^r()W -Olil"  Cliarl  l.rn  (iiiilil 

<><>ii<'i-:il  l-'«*:iliir«'s 

( )iir  Kc.iilrr-  \\  rile  Uh  ... 

I  llil<T-(  ioviT  SliilT   Ili  niiiiilii,.   Kn  lly 

Kclcrciicc  l.ilirarv  

\1akiiif;  Marriani-  W  ork  i.liljonl  K.  Iiliima 

I  )i>  ^  oil  know  ^  our  I'arcii l>'.'  (  {'In-  .Suli-j  )cl()    i'.dili'd  hv  Kiilli  liiiirr 

l  ifly  \  ears  .\^o  •  .Juiiriial  Mioiil  I'owii   

riiere's  a  Man  in  llic  lloiisc  lliirlaii  Miller 

riic  ( !<>ii^b  Thai  "Hallos  On"  I)r.  Ilrriiiuii  \.  Itiiiiili  seii 

Tills  is  a  Mopcy    Miiiin,  l.mf 

Vsk  \ny  Woman  MniirliiirCnx 

Diary  of  Donieslicity   (.Iiulvs  I'iiImt 


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FlINllitlll  IIImI  Il4'»lilv 

(  '.olor  l:l\i'i lenient  . 
.loiiriial  Discoveries  in  (iolloii 
\  ear-Koiiiid  Malernitv  (".lollies 


II  ilhelii  ('itslimiiii 
II  illiclii  I  '.tishmiiii 
\i>ni  O'l.earY 


"I  Want  III  IhiM'  Mv  Bahics  and  \lv  I' igiire  Too  I"' 

Daieii  ('.rniirll  \iiriiiim 

(loiiverlible  Trousseau   liiilli  Miiry  I'mhiird 


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TONl  FRISSELL 


iiiiil  ll«»iii<>iii;iki»{! 

Coriniie  GriHith's  Cookbook 

"W  hen  I  l'",nlcrlain"  Ruih  Mills  Trauiie  61 

Garden  Fresh  inn  liutrhelilor  68 

Line  a  Day                                                                 Ann  lintrheliter  70 

'Tryouts  for  the  Bride  trliiie  Irvinti  161 

It's  Spring  .  .  .  Kat  Well  Mnrinii  O'llrien  l')2 

Iiil«'ri4»r  ll«'«-«>riili<»ii 

Young  Honie-Builders  \fi/ir\-  (  '.rauford  160 

First  Buys  for  New  lyweds*  Living  Room  .    Cvntltiii  Mc.  idoo  162 

l*«i«'niN 

I'riscilla  Shames  72  •  Grace  Vrmslroiijr  MIeii  82  •  Flizabelh  McFarland  ')2 
Marjorie  Lederer  Lee  100  •  May  Williams  Ward  110  .  Zoe  Akins  120 
Israel  Newman  116  •   I laiiiiah  Kahn  182  •  Elizabeth  Coatsworth  202 

4'iivt'r  l*lio(<>|fr»pli  hv  .|«i<>«'|»li  Iki  I'ii'lro 


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a  n  (I   \  o  II  r  fr «- 1 


a  r«' 


rr  H  t  i  II 


FOAM  RUBBER 
innersoled  Softies 

Treat  your  feet  to 

softness  coolness ., , 

prettiness!  Dainty. ..airy 
Nylon  mesh  rushioned 
with  foam  rubberl 

595 

(Sliffhtlj  htxfeer  Denrer  west) 

for  the  store  nearcs?  you,  write: 

PETERS  SHOE  COMPANY,  ST.  LOUIS 


LADIES'       n    ()    \l  K 


.1    O    U    K    N    \  L 


May,  1953 


6  o'cW^/I/Im  W6:I5 


Libbys 
Peaehereos' 


It's  a  salad.  It's  beautiful. 
And  so  simple,  15  minutes  will 
do  it  easy.  To  make  it  as  de- 
licious as  it  looks,  be  sure  to 
use  Lihby's  peaches.  They're 
plump,  they're  meUow,  they're 
golden  and  good — the  kind  of 
peaches  you'd  pick  if  you  had 
an  orchard  of  your  own. 

Libby's  Peacheroos:  Put  Libby's 
Peach  Halves  (chilled  and  well 
drained)  together  with  generous 
portions  of  drained  and  chilled 
cottage  cheese.  Garnish  with 
cherries  and  mint. 
Lihby.  McNeill  &  Libhy.  Chicago9,  III. 


LIBBY'lS  PRUIT  COCKTAIL 

5  ^UACi(Hl4  IjUwXa.  LH''StL»€^  (VitCKvti." 


A  treat  for  you  and  yours ! 

It's  a  jelly  roll  covered 
with  sweetened  whipped 
cream  and  heaped  high 
with  Libby's  Fruit  Cock- 
tail, chilled  and  drained. 
It's  another  wonderful 
way  to  enjoy  Libby's 
happy  blending  of  bright, 
luscious  fruits.  Libby's 
Fruit  Cocktail  —  put  it 
high  on  your  shopping  list. 


Before  Iinperiul  I'alaee  inuat  in  Tolvvo.  Lt.  Patrieia  Dial.  I'SN;  Lt. 
Madeleine  Thomas.  I  SAF;  Ll.  Zella  Jones.  WAC;  Mi.ss  Jo  Ann 
Turner.  Los  Anjieles.  ehosen  "(^neen  for  a  Day'"  on  Mutual  Broad- 
casting program \s  salute  to  women  in  serviee;  Laura  Lou  Brookman; 
Miss  Dolores  Davila.  I'liilippine  Airline  hostess,  and  Miss  Yoko  Oishi. 


Tokyo 

Dear  Mrs.  Gould :  Yesterday  I  saw  a 
shipload  of  troops  arrive  in  Yokohama 
on  their  way  to  Korea.  The  officer  in 
cliargc  of  getting  the  men  oft'  the  ships 
and  on  the  trains,  headed  for  their  next 
destination,  was  aWAC — Lieut.  Esther 
E.  Di  Sanzo  of  Freedom,  Pa.  Slie  did 
the  job  briskly  and  easily — partly  no 
doubt  because  of  experience  in  the  op- 
erations department  of  the  Pennsyl- 
vania Railroad  at  Pittsburgh  before  en- 
listing. Lieutenant  Di  Sanzo  has  been 
in  Japan  since  April,  1952. 

The  ship  was  the  General  Gordon. 
"Listen  to  tlieni  now."  the  PIO  officer 
.said  as  the  hand  stat  ti'd  St.  Louis  Blues. 
The  Inlantr\-  and  Air  Force  pa.ssengers 
lining  the  rails  began  cheering — as 
homelike  a  welcome,  I  suppose,  as  you 
could  have  in  a  foreign  port.  "  They  al- 
ways do  that  for  the  blues."  said  the 
PIO.  "  But,  for  a  real  sight,  you  should 
.see  a  ship  arriving  with  dependents. 
Husbands  line  up  on  the  docks  with  or- 
chids and  other  presents  for  their  wives. 
My  wife  got  here  six  months  ago  and  I 
was  five  times  as  nervous  as  I  was  on 
the  day  we  were  married  !" 

"We  went  on  board  to  the  chaplain's 
office.  The  WAC  pfc  was  bringing  him 
rosaries  and  prayer  books.  The  chap- 
lain, Lieut.  C.  E.  Haine  (who  happens 
to  be  a  Methodist),  said,  "A  chaplain  is 
busier  on  the  way  to  Korea  than  all  the 
rest  of  the  trip.  The  first  day  at  sea 
there  are  usually  about  M)  men  at  serv- 
ice. The  second  day  there  may  be  300. 
The  third  day  we  have  to  nni  services 
all  day  long." 


The  word  I  hear  most  in  Japan  is 
"sukoshi,"  pronounced  "skosh"  or 
"skoshy  "  and  it  means  small.  If  some- 
thing is  "niore  sukoshi"  it  is  smaller. 
The  oppositi'  word,  meaning  big,  is 
"takusan"  (pronounced  tock-san).  But 
though  something  can  be  "more  su- 
koshi" it  is  never  "more  takusan." 

Flight  nurses  talk  the  Air  Force  lan- 
guage, of  cour.se.  Here  are  some  of  their 
phrases: 

It's  no  sweat  —  It's  nothing  to  worry 
about.  (In  the  Navy  this  would  be, 
"  It  s  no  strain.") 

To  get  clanked — to  get  panicked. 

That  parade  will  never  march — 
.something  that  will  never  happen. 


Joto — That's  fine.  (A  Korean  word 
the  Ah  Force  has  adopted.) 

Dani-dani  —  The  worst  possible 
thing.  In  Japanese  "dani"  is  bad.  Dani- 
dani  is  twice  as  bad.  To  be  dani-dani- 
dani  is  just  about  unthinkable. 

Weather  can  only  mean  bad  weather. 
A  flight  nurse  says,  "The  pilot  told  us 
we  were  going  to  have  weather."  She 
means  bad  weather. 

In  the  Air  Force  a  helicopter  is  al- 
ways a  "copter." 

Meter-meter — to  check. 


I  have  a  message  to  Louella  Shouer 
from  George  J.  Risko,  warrant  officer. 
Hospital  Corps,  USN,  and  assistant 
chief  food  .service  officer  at  Yokosuka 
Naval  Hospital.  Warrant  Officer  Risko 
showed  nie  his  stacks  of  magazines  and 
clippings  from  the  Journal.  He  reads 
Louella's  recipes  and  Ann  Batchelder's 
and  Ruth  Teague's  and  gets  ideas  for 
his  menus  from  the  pictures  as  well  as 
the  recipes,  but  he  says,  "Please  print 
some  recipes  in  quantities  to  serve 
100." 

The  meals  in  this  naval  hospital  are 
famous.  Patients  in  the  wards  (except 
those  on  restricted  diets)  may  have  a 
choice  of  four  meat  dishes.  Patients  in 
the  big  mess  hall  (where  I  ate)  have  a 
choice  of  seven  meats.  Meals  for  1300 
are  prepared  three  times  a  day  at  a  cost 
lower  than  that  for  the  rest  of  the  base 
and  with  less  than  one  fiftieth  of  the 
waste.  The  secret  is  letting  the  men 
choose  their  own  food.  There  is  a 
census  of  every  portion,served  at  every 
meal. 

Chicken  is  the  first  favorite  meat  and 
strawberry  shortcake  the  most  popular 
dessert.  "  Marines  are  the  heartiest  eat- 
ers," .says  the  warrant  officer,  "and 
good  critics." 

Sitting  beside  me  at  lunch  was  Mrs. 
Robert  P.  Briscoe,  whose  husband. 
Vice  Admiral  Robert  P.  Briscoe,  is 
commander  of  the  Naval  Forces  of  the 
Far  East.  We  filled  our  trays  in  line 
with  the  hospital  patients.  Two  tables 
beyond  I  noticed  a  patient  with  the 
letters  ROK  across  his  back,  a  con- 
valescent soldier  of  the  Republic  of 
Korea  army. 

One  of  Yokosuka  hospital's  rules  for 
cooks  is  "  Never  make  coffee  more  than 
(Continued  on  Page  6) 


m 

1 


I    \  I)   I  I 


II     II     \|     I         J     <l    I      II     N     \  I 


{acieci  way  mr! 

(ALL  THE  GREASE-CUTTING  POWER 
YOU  CAN  GET  FOR  DISHWASHING) 


SAf-E  fit  hoy  h^hd^I 

(A  MIRACLE  DETERGENT  MORE  NEUTRAL 
THAN  THE  MILDEST  COMPLEXION  SOAP) 


ACTUALLY  GETS  DISHES  CLEANER 
...WITHOUT  ANY  WIPING  AT  ALL! 

New,  milder  Dieft  is  a  special  dishwashing  detergent. 
Without  any  wiping  at  all,  Dreft  gets  dishes  cleaner- 
cleaner  than  when  you  wipe  and  polish,  too. 

Instant-sudsing  Dreft  gives  you  the  best  possible  grease- 
cutting  power  you  can  get  for  dishes.  Just  soak  them  in 
warm  Dreft  suds  for  two  minutes.  Give  a  swish  of  the  cloth 
as  you  rinse,  and  let  them  drain  dry.  Forget  about  wiping. 
Willi  Dreft,  your  dishes  will  shine! 

Try  it.  Enjoy  the  fastest  wav  to  do  dishes,  and  have 
cleaner 


■for  cfesner  (fides  k/kfiotft  Mp/fig 


A  NEW  PLUS!  REAL  SAFETY 
FOR  YOUR  PARTY- PRETTY  HANDS! 

Now  — a  dishwashing  detergent  that  is  safe  for  hands  — e\en 
more  neutral  than  the  mildest  complexion  soap.  New, 

milder  Dreft!  It  contains  no  harsh  ingredients. 

o 

Think  of  it!  Gentle,  neutral  suds  that  actually  pamper 
soft,  smooth  skin.  That  means  a  lot  to  esery  woman  w  ho's 
proud  of  her  hands,  yet  must  do  dishes  every  day! 

See  for  yourself  how  you'll  love  Dreft's  great  new  plus  — 
real  safety  for  vour  hands!  Tr\  it.  won't  \oir? 

GET  BOra 


SEE  IT  NOW! 


4 


The  New  Kelvinator  Automatic  Washer! 
Washes  Dirty  Clothes  Really  Clean! 


Even  children's  dirtiest  clothes.. .  come  sparkling  clean  from  your  new  Kelvinator  Automatic 


Here  is  a  completely  automatic  washer  that  gets  the  dirtiest  work  clothes 
and  eliildreii's  play  clothes  realli/  clean.  Yet  the  washing  is  so  gentle  that  it's 
safe  for  your  finest  underthings. 

This  new  Kelvinator  has  a  special,  different  washing  action  —  "Shampoo 
Washing".  It's  based  on  the  same  method  you  use  when  you  wash  your  chil- 
dren's hair.  You  wet  their  hair,  add  shampoo,  tlicn  get  a  rich,  creamy  lather. 
This  quickly  hut  gently  loosens  dirt  because  the  solution  is  at  full  strength. 

In  the  new  Kelvinator  Automatic,  washing  starts  in  rich,  creamy  suds 
with  the  tub  only  half-full  of  water.  This  prochices  "shampoo" 
action  that  really  loosens  dirt  in  the  grimiest  clothes.  Then,  as 
\\  water  slowly  Ulls  the  tul),  the  fabrics  are  flexed  up  and  down  by 

the.  "\-('eiitric"  agitator  and  gently  rul)bed  and  s(|ueezed  by 

ST^f^^J^'      large  pliable  rubber  fins  .  .  .  an  action  similar  to  hand  washing. 

'-*C  See  it  demonstrated! 


Shampoo  Washing 

This  special  Kelvinator 
washing  action  leaves 
white  clothes  really  white, 
because  they  are  sham- 
pooed in  a  concentrated 
washing  solution  . . .  wash- 
ing awiy  the  most  stub- 
horn  dirt  and  grime. 


•  •"X-Contric"  Agitation 

"X-C'entric" action  of  Kel- 
vinator's  rubber-finned 
agitator  imitates  the  hand 
washing  of  clothes,  gently 
flexing  them  to  loosen 
ground-in  dirt  and  rinse  it 
away.  There's  no  vibration 
...  no  bolting  down. 


Overflow  Rinsing 


Soap  scum  always  rises  to 
the  top.  By  adding  water 
so  the  tub  overflows,  soap 
scum  and  dirt  are  floated 
over  the  top  of  the  tub  .  .  . 
away  from  the  clothes  .  .  . 
not  through  them.  Clothes 
are  really  clean! 


WIN  A  FRfE  VACATION  FOR  YOUR  FAMILY* 

Every  two  weeks  until  July  3,  1953,  four  $1000  vocation  prizes  are  awarded  in  the  Kel- 
vinator "Homemoker's  Holiday"  contest.  904  valuable  prizes  every  two  weeks,  5424 
in  oil!  Get  your  free  entry  blank  at  your  Kelvinator  deoler's  today! 

*24  /op  winners  will  be  awarded  JIOOO  each  for  their  vacations. 


MsJke  l/l/ss/icfay  a  f/o//c/dy— 
/r^  r//l^£  TO  GET 


Guoronte«d  by 
L  Good  Housekeeping  J 


Electric  Refrigerators  ' 
Sinks   •    Woshers  & 


Kelvinalor,  Division  of  Nash-Kelvinator  Corporation,  Detroit  32,  Mich, 

Electric  Ranges  •  Home  Freezers  •  Electric  Water  Heaters  •  Kitchen  Cabinets  ft 
Ironers  •   Room  Air  Conditioners  •   Garbage  Disposers  •   Electric  Dehumidifiers 


(Continued  from  Page  4) 
thirty  minutes  before  it  is  to  be  served. 
It  was  good  coffee. 


Japan  is  mad  about  television.  We  ar- 
rived five  days  after  the  first  television 
broadcast.  The  sets  are  in  restaurants, 
shops  and  public  places,  since  only  the 
smallest  number  of  Japanese  can  afford 
pri\'atc  ones.  There  are  two  television 
shows  a  day — at  noon  and  in  the  early 
evening,  two  hours  each.  Like  the  British 
Broadcasting  Company,  Japanese  radio 
and  television  programs  have  no  commer- 
cials. Everyone  who  owns  a  receiver  pays  a 
sum  monthly  to  the  station  for  the  privi- 
lege of  listening. 

All  around  Tokyo  there  are  gay  paper 
lanterns  hanging  outside  shops  and  I 
thought.  "How  nice  to  see  one  touch  of 
old  Japan  in  this  bustling  city."  When  I 
stopped  to  buy  some  lanterns,  the  .store- 
keeper laughed.  He  explained  that  the 
characters  on  the  lantern  read,  "NHK 
Television."  NHK  is  a  big  broadcasting 
compan;  .  Anyway  I  bought  the  lanterns 
(for  100  yen,  or  27  cents). 

Besides  television,  the  Japanese  love 
hillbilly  music.  It's  surprising  to  hear-  a 
disk  jockey  speaking  in  Japanese  and  then 
"She'll  be  Comin'  Rounrl  the  Mountain" 
in  hillbilly  English. 


Memo  to  myself:  Next  time  you  cross 
the  Pacific,  remember  to  take  calling 
cards.  Every  Japanese  presents  his  "name 
card  "  and  expects  yours  in  return.  I  knew 
this  but  didn't  know  the  reason  is  to  add 
your  name  to  his  list  for  New  Year's 
greetings.  New  Year's  Day  is  the  mo.st 
important  of  the  year  among  the  Japanese. 

Regrets:  I  wish  I'd  been  hungrier  the 
morning  coconut  pancakes  were  on  the 
breakfast  menu  at  the  Royal  Hawaiian 
hotel  in  Honolulu.  Wonder  how  coconut 
pancakes  taste?  I  wish  I  could  have 
brought  all  the  men  on  the  staff  Tagala 
shirts  from  the  Philippines.  They're  the 
la.st  word  in  elegance — creamy  white  fab- 
ric which  is  lacy  or  else  sheer  as  chitTon. 
cut  to  hang  like  a  coat.  Such  a  shirt  may 
even  be  embroidered  in  gold  or  silver 
thread.  Underneath  goes  a  T  shirt. 

Tomorrow  we  head  back  for  Manila. 
Maybe  I  can  buy  those  shirts. 

In  haste, 

LAURA  LOU 

Agana,  Guam 
Dear  Mrs.  Ciuulil :  All  the  way  across  the 
Pacific  and  back  I've  been  talking  to  girls 
in  U.S.  uniforms.  I  couldn't,  of  course, 
visit  all  the  military  installations  where 
women  are  working,  but  I  tlid  see  a  lot  of 
them.  Surely  it  is  something  entirely  new 
in  history  for  American  women,  so  many  of 
them,  to  Ijc  working  at  military  duties  all 
the  way  across  this  vast  ocean. 

There  are  two  Wacs  in  Korea — both 
secretaries  to  generals  and  one  the  mother 
of  a  marine  on  duty  now  in  the  LT.S.  Lieut. 
Col.  Lilian  Harris,  adviser  on  women's 
matters  on  the  AFFE  staff,  told  me  that 
when  it  was  announced  these  two  were 
going,  many  others  volunteered.  She  told 
them  that  when  and  if  there  were  more 
jobs  for  women  in  Korea,  their  requests 
would  be  considered.  Colonel  Harris  has 
one  of  the  really  big  jobs  in  Japan.  She  said 
there  are  enlisted  girls  in  over  100  types  of 
assignments  and  officers  in  56  now  in 
Japan. 

I  happened  to  be  at  Yokosuka  Naval 
Base  the  day  the  first  Wave  to  be  sent  to 
Japan  arrived.  Betty  Coyers,  yeoman 
third  class,  of  Lansing,  West  Va.,  didn't 
look  in  the  least  like  a  pioneer.  She  was  a 
secretary  before  she  enlisted  (Jan.  l.S, 
19.S1)  and  a  secretary  at  Pensacola  Naval 
Air  Station.  "My  mother  was  upset,  my 
father  was  thrilled,"  she  says,  when  they 
heard  she  was  going  to  Tokyo.  Last  Au- 
gust she  asked  for  duty  overseas.  Japan? 
No,  England. 

In  Tokyo  Betty  will  work  at  the  Joint 
Staff  Far  East  command  headquarters  and 
live  at  the  WAC  battalion  billet.  Three 
more  Waves  will  join  her. 

I've  been  asking-these  girls  in  uniform 
questions.  Here  are  the  reasons  why  some 
of  them  enlisted : 

Agnes  McSkimming,  chief  storekeeper, 
Brooklyn,  N.Y. :  "  I  wanted  to  travel.  When 
I  was  a  child  I  always  said  that  if  I  had 
been  a  boy  I  d  be  a  sailor.  I  was  a  secretary 
before  I  enlisted.  I've  had  ten  years  in  the 
(Continued  on  Page  8) 


Lucky  you— to  have 
an  early  vacation! 


WHERE  TO  GO... 

WHAT  TO  SEE 

Is  the  West  calling  you?  If  so,  hop  a  TWA 

plane  and  be  in  sunny,  fun-filled  southern 
California  in  a  few  short  hours.  Relax  and 
be  casual  or  put  on  your  most  <;lamorous 
party  dress  and  be  a  part  of  the  gay  night 
life  of  fabulous  Hollywood.  Best  of  all, 
thanks  to  swift,  frequent  TWA  flights  you 
are  just  a  few  hours  away  from  this  vaca- 
tion wonderland  no  matter  where  you  live. 

If  ant  to  see  America's  most  beautiful 
city?  That  is  what  most  people  call  our 
nation's  capital.  Be  sure  to  see  the  redone 
White  House  (you  might  catch  a  glimpse  of 
its  occupants).  And  on  this  trip  be  sure  to 
lake  the  children.  They  will  love  Washing- 
ton .  .  .  love  to  fly  the  TWA  way.  In  fact, 
flying  is  the  way  to  travel  with  children. 

Dreaming  of  Europe?  This  is  the  year 
to  go.  And  TWA  has  planned  for  you  a 
17-day  tour  of  England,  Holland,  Belgium 
and  France  for  as  little  as  $738.  That's 
right  .  .  .  $738  is  the  cost  of  the  tour  from 
New  York  and  back  to  New  York.  Remem- 
ber, when  you  travel  TWA,  Europe  is  pos- 
sible on  even  a  two  weeks'  vacation. 

Need  travel  help?  If  so,  do  send  for  the 
helpful,  informative  leaflets  that  travel- 
wise  Mary  Gordon  has  written  for  you.  For 
these  leaflets,  fill  out  and  mail  the  coupon 
below  or  talk  over  your  problems  with  your 
favorite  travel  agent  or  nearest  TWA  office. 


Mary  Gordon,  Dept.  J5 

Trans  World  Airlines,  60  E.  42nd  St.,  NewYork.N.Y. 
Please  send  me  your  free  leaflets . . . 

□  How  to  see  the  West 

□  Basic  Travel  Wardrobe 

□  How  to  Stretch  your  Travel  Dollars. 

NAME  


ADDRESS_ 
CITY  


STATE 


I    \  II   I  I 


II     II     M     I         I     11     I      II  \  I 


.  .  .  nothing  equals  Revere  Ware.  'I'lie  copper  ciail  bottom 
of  Revere  Ware  spreails  the  heat  ciuitkly,  evenly  .  .  .  liocs 
away  with  hot  spots.  Less  fuel  is  iiseil.  Fooils  taste  better. 
Cooking  is  actually  fun.  Anil  these  great  cooking  utensils 
are  cleaned  in  a  jilfy.  What  a  combination  .  .  .  stainless 
steel  Mu\  copper.  Wliar  beauty  .  .  .  wiiat  cooking,  with 
Revere  Ware. 


To  match  its  copper-clad,  stainless  steel  cooking  utensils 
Revere  Ware  now  brings  you  its  newest  creation  — gleam- 
ing, new  Revere  Ware  Mixing  Bowls.  Entirely  new  in 
design  and  made  of  solid,  stainless  steel  they  are  equipped 
with  a  sure-grip  rmg  that  prevents  slipping  even  when 
hands  are  wet.  This  same  ring  makes  them  easy  to  hang 
on  rack  or  wall.  And  being  of  solid  stainless  steel  they 
cannot  chip,  crack  or  brc-ak  .  .  .  will  last  a  lifetime.  See 
them  today.  In  one,  two,  four  and  six-quart  capacity. 


The  latest  and  most  versatile  addition  to  the  Revere  Ware 
family  .  .  stainless  steel  Handy-Pans.  STORE  foods  in 
Handy-Pans  .  .  .  snug-fitting  covers  prevent  escape  of 
food  odors.  Nested  together,  they  use  less  refrigerator 
space  BAKE  in  Handy-Pans  .  .  .  cleaning's  no  problem. 
There  are  no  crevices  to  trap  food.  MOLD  in  Handy- 
Pans  Gelatin  desserts,  salads  and  meat  loaf  are  per- 
fectly formed.  SERVE  from  Handy-Pans  .  .  .  rhey  keep 
food  piping  hot,  are  attractive  on  your  table.  Buy  Handy- 
Pans  today.  One  pint,  one  quart  and  two  quart  sizes. 

You'll  find  the  entire  Revere  Ware  family  at  your 
favorite  store  in  the  United  States  or  Canada  Revere 
Copper  and  Brass  Incorporated,  Rome  Manufacturing 
Company  Division,  Rome,  N.  Y. 


WAKE 


SEE  REVERE'S 


"MEET  THE  PRESS" 
ON  NBC  TELEVISION,  SUNDAYS 


The 

'BOTTIE  BACIILUS" 

(Pityrosporum  Ovale) 


Go  after  the  germs  with 
Listerine  Antiseptic  and  Massage  p  ./Quick! 


THOSE  flakes  and  scales  on  coat  shoul- 
der— especially  if  they  persist  —  may 
be  symptoms  of  infectious  dandruff  and 
the  millions  of  germs  that  go  with  it. 

Don't  delay  or  experiment  with  un- 
tested methods.  Get  started  at  once 
with  Listerine  Antiseptic  and  massage 
twice-a-day  and  keep  it  up.  This  is  the 
tested  way  that  has  helped  so  many 
.  .  .  may  help  you. 

Listerine  Antiseptic  treats  the  in- 
fection as  an  infection  should  be  treated 
.  .  .  with  quick  germ-killing  action. 

Kills  "Bottle  Bacillus" 

Listerine  kills  millions  of  germs  as- 
sociated with  infectious  dandruff, 
including  the  "Bottle  Bacillus" 
(P.  ovale).  This  is  the  stubborn  in- 
vader that  so  many  dermatologists 
call  a  causative  agent  of  infectious 
dandruff. 

Don't  expect  results  overnight. 
You  must  be  persistent:  use  the 
treatment  twice  a  day  as  long  as 
necessary.  You  will  be  delighted  to 
see  how  quickly  flakes  and  scales 
begin  to  disappear  .  .  .  how  itching 
is  alleviated  .  .  .  how  healthy  your 
scalp  feels. 

Remember,  in  clinical  tests  twice- 
a-day  use  of  Listerine  Antiseptic 
brought  marked  improvement 
within  a  month  to  76° o  of  dan- 
druff sufferers. 

When  You  Wash  Hair 

To  guard  against  infection,  get 
in  the  habit  of  using  Listerine 
Antiseptic  every  time  you  wash 
your  hair.  It's  a  wise  precaution 
against  infectious  dandruff  as 
well  as  a  grand  treatment. 
Lambert  Pharmacal  Company 
Division  of  The  Lambert  Com- 
pany, St.  Louis,  Missouri. 


THE  TSSTED  TRSATMENT  FOR  IMFSCTIOUS  DANDRUFF 


Every  week  2  difFerent  shows,  1?adio  and  Television 
"THE  ADVENTURES  OF  OZZIE  &  HARRIET"— See  your  paper  for  times  and  stations 


(Continued  from  Page  6) 
Na\  y  and  saved  my  l<'avc  and  made  two 
trips  to  Europe." 

Marie  X'aras,  dental  technician  general, 
third  class,  New  York  ("ity:  "When  the 
Korean  trouljle  startetl  I  was  working  at 
New  York  Universit>-  Dental  College.  Ad- 
miral Delaney  gave  a  lecture  at  the  uni- 
versity and  I  thought  if  the  men  were 
needed  so  badly,  I  should  enlist  too.  I  en- 
listed for  22  months  active  duty  and  then 
in  the  Naval  Reser\  e  for  four  years.  Next 
month  I'm  going  home.  I  want  to  go  to 
Columbia  on  the  G.l.  Bill  and  get  my  de- 
gree. I'll  .still  be  in  the  Re.serve,  of  course." 

Kathleen  Muller,  seaman,  San  Fran- 
cisco: "Every  day  I  used  to  walk  past  a 
recruiting  poster,  so  one  day  I  just  went 
inside  and  signed  up.  Pearl  Harbor  is 
choice  duty.  You  can  learn  lots  of  things 
in  the  Navy.  I've  taken  a  course  in  photog- 
raphy and  Navy  history.  Right  now  I'm 
taking  a  course  in  Chinese  cooking.  When 
I  told  my  family  I'd  enlisted,  my  mother 
said  if  she  was  young  enough  and  not  mar- 
ried, she'd  come  too.  After  I  fini.sh  my  en- 
listment I'm  going  back  to  .school  and 
study  home  economics  or  psychology." 

Genevieve  Hoe,  First  Lieut.,  WAC  re- 
cruiting officer:  "I've  been  very  lucky — 
never  in  one  place  more  than  six  months. 
But  I  was  scared  stiff  the  first  time  I  had 
to  take  dictation  from  a  general!  That 
was  in  Vienna  in  Austria.  I  was  one  of  69 
Hawaiian  girls  accepted  in  the  WAC  in 
1944.  Then  in  1947  I  got  out  of  .service  and 
back  in  again  in  1948.  I  received  my. com- 
mission in  April,  1949,  and  went  to  Japan 
to  be  executive  officer  at  the  WAC  de- 
tachment in  Yokohama.  The  hardest 
thing  about  my  job  is  talking  to  old- 
fashioned  parents  who  don't  feel  that 
woman's  place  is  in  uniform." 

Henrietta  Griset.  journalist,  second 
class,  Tustin,  Okla. :  "I  was  always  inter- 
ested in  newspaper  work  and  thought  by 
going  into  the  Navy  I  could  get  experience 
that  would  help  me  get  on  a  newspaper  or 
magazine.  So  I  enlisted  and  went  to  boot 
camp  at  Great  Lakes  for  ten  weeks.  That's 
murder !  They  said  I  was  qualified  to  try 
for  journalist,  but  that  it  was  a  hard  rate 
to  get.  There  were  .?1  in  my  class  and  I  was 
the  only  girl,  but  I  came  out  a  journalist. 
Right  now  I'm  in  charge  of  the  art  section 
in  the  PIG  office  at  CINCPAC.  You  either 
like  the  Navy  a  lot  or  you  don't  like  it  at 
all.  I  chose  the  Waves  because  I  liked  the 
uniform  and  because  I  think  they  have 
very  high  standards.  I'm  taking  hula  les- 
sons at  the  YW  and  you  should  see  my 
teacher — she's  a  doll ! " 

Joyce  Galster,  private  first  class,  Mil- 
waukee: "I  always  did  want  to  be  in  the 
Army.  My  sister  and  I  are  orphans  and  as 
soon  as  I  didn't  need  to  look  out  for  her 
any  longer,  I  enlisted  —  the  first  in  my  di- 
rect family  in  approximately  ISO  years  to 
enlist.  My  father  wasn't  in  and  neither 
was  my  uncle.  I  met  my  husband  at  Fort 
Lee  in  the  hobby  shop  anfl  fi\  e  months  ago 
we  were  married.  I  asked  for  duty  in  the 
Far  East  and  requested  my  job  in  the 
chaplain's  office.  I  love  it.  Before  I  was  a 
Wac  I  almost  joined  the  Waves  but  they 
said  I  had  to  lose  ten  pounds.  So  I  lost  six 
and  went  right  into  the  WAC.  Stay  in  serv- 
ice ?  No,  ma'am.  As  soon  as  we  get  out,  my 
husband  and. I  are  going  back  to  the  ranch ! ' ' 

Patricia  Dial,  Lieut.,  Navy  Nurse 
Corps,  Alhambra,  Cal.:  "Ever  since  I  was 
knee  high  I've  wanted  to  be  a  nurse.  As 
soon  as  I  finished  high  school  I  joined  the 
Cadet  Nurses'  Corps.  Then  I  worked  in  the 
Los  Angeles  County  public-health  depart- 
ment. One  girl  there  had  been  an  Army 
nurse  and  another  in  the  Navy.  From  talk- 
ing to  both  of  them  I  decided  the  Navy 
would  be  best.  One  of  the  biggest  advan- 
tages for  a  nurse  in  joining  the  service  is 
that  you  get  to  travel  and  don't  lose 
seniority.  There  is  nowhere  in  the  world 
where  you  can  get  such  an  education.  The 
Navy  will  even  .send  you  to  the  approved 
civilian  college  of  your  choice,  pay  your 
subsistence  and  your  full  Navy  pay.  Of 
course  you  have  to  agree  to  stay  in 
service  for  at  least  two  years  after  one 
year  of  college." 

Doree  Beeson.  airman,  first  class,  Bay 
City,  Mich.:  "I  enlisted,  basically,  to 
further  my  education.  One  of  my  brothers 
was  in  the  Air  Force  and  he  was  in  favor 
of  my  joining  the  WAF.  I  think  the  Air 
Force  gives  you  more  variety  in  jobs  and 
it's  easier  to  get  overseas.  I  met  my  hus- 
band (James  Beeson,  airman,  second 
class)  when  we  were  both  stationed  at 
(Continued  on  Page  112) 


discovered 
corsJfc 
at  really^ 
supports 
in  copfort 


f 


Do  you  rush  home  to  get  out  of 
a  corset?  I  did  —  until  I  dis- 
covered Camp  supports! 

An  experienced  Camp  fitter  ex- 
plained what  poor  posture  can 
do  to  cause  excessive  strain  of 
muscles  and  bones  often  retard- 
ing functions  of  vital  organs. 

She  told  me  how  Camp  Supports 
are  scientifically  designed  to 
work  with  exactly  the  figure 
problem  of  a  woman  my  age. 
Now  I'm  looking  forward  to 
looking  better  in  comfort  with 
my  new  Camp  support. 


Is  your  figure  problem  moderate  or  ex- 
treme? A  Camp  scientific  support  will 
provide  a  comfortoble  answer  for  youl 
$6.50  to  $15  at  better  stores  everywhere. 


Send,  for  "New  Facts  About 
Your  "Figure  ond  Your  Corset 
offer  35".    It's  free. 


S.  H.  CAMP  &  CO., 
Jackson,  Mich. 

Creators  of  Scientific  Supports  for  Doily  Wear  and 
Anatomical  Supports  for  the  Medical  Profession. 


et  your  oxim  mirror  sltoiu  you..."  says  MRS.  wii.i.iam  h.  miles,  another  lovely  woodrury  diiide 


Use  the  Soap  Made 
with  Face  Cream  Oils . . . 

New  Woodbury  Soap ! 


Now  you  can  liave  tlie  cleanest,  most  radiant  com- 
plexion of  your  life ! 

\N()o(]l)ury  skin  scientists  have  found  a  way  to 
blend  7  face  cream  oils  right  into  each  cake  of 
New  Woodbury  Soap!  (The  same  oils  and  emol- 
lients used  in  costly  face  creams! )  They're  intend- 
ed to  help  replace  natural  oils  you  wash  away— oils 
so  necessary  for  smooth  and  young-looking  skin. 

And  New  \^oodbury  Soap  is  a  delight  in  other 
ways.  too.  It  gives  more  generous  billows  of  rich, 
creamy  lather.  More  gentle,  more  thorough  cleans- 
ing I  The  cake  itself  is  a  beautiful,  clear,  sea-spray 
green  color.  And  the  delicate  new  bridal-flower 


fragrance  clings  delightfully.  Altogether,  New 
^\oodbu^y  Soap  is  the  loveliest  beauty  care  you 
ever  used ! 

Get  New  \^'oodbury  Soap  in  its  new  blue  and  white 
wrapper  with  the  lovely  lady  and  her  mirror.  It"s 
tiie  symbol  of  an  exquisite,  new  complexion  for 
you !  (And.  P.  S.— on  the  big  bath  size  New  'Wood- 
bury, it's  the  symbol  of  new  all-over  loveliness.) 

Qlolo  tefe/t  iim  m  I  QilocdhuHif  Qxtp 


LADIES'       HOME       J    O    U    R    N    \  L 


May,  1953 


Serve  these  fresh -made  franks  bj  the  basketful ! 


This  is  "Franks  'n'  French  Bread  in  a  Basket" 
—  a  fresh  new  idea  for  a  picnic  indoors  or 
out.  Plump,  tender  Armour  Star  Franks 
iixed  this  way  taste  even  better  than  usual ! 
That's  a  trick  in  itself,  for  these  delicately 
seasoned  franks  a/irays  have  that  wonder- 
fully satisfying  flavor  of  good,  nourishing 
beef  and  pork.  And  they're  fresh— made 
fresh  every  day  right  near  you,  rushed  fresh 
to  your  market. 

Make  diagonal  cuts  almost  through  a  loaf 
of  French  bread.  Spread  every  other  slice 


with  Cloverbloom®  Butter  and  sprinkle 
with  grated  Miss  Wisconsin  Cheese.  Place 
Armour  Star  Franks  between  buttered  slices. 
Place  on  cookie  sheet  and  heat  in  350°  F. 
oven  for  20  minutes.  Cut  into  individual 
sandwiches  and  serve  with  mustard,  dill 
pickle  slices  and  radishes. 

For  other  Marie  GifFord  recipes,  write  for 
"Hot  and  Cold  Hits."  Address  the  famous 
home  economist,  Marie  Gifford,  Armour 
and  Company,  Dept.  602,  Chicago  9,  111. 


DIES'  HOME 


Ih'iit rifv  lUin'liintii  liuiihl 


Aini'i'ivH's  A'o.  I 


"Tlif  I'liffotlii  Irrr.  Hilffiirliiini,"  lilluiffriipli  liy  Until  llnviliind  Siiltun.  iilin  n  rr/trrtrntrij 
in  llir  l.ihriiry  iif  ('.imfin-ss  mid  tlif  (Mrnrffir  In.ililiilf.  l liii  Irrr.  a  fumnut  Inmlmntk,  tint 
hroiifflil  from  Cliinn  in  n  llowrrpnt,  /jiTluifit  ni  fiirly  u.i  ////•/.  .  .  .  Urif(inal  Uthoifriiph 
II"  x  14"  nuiy  br  imrrliimrd  now  for  $10  from  Kninrdv  Cntlerirs,  Inc..  NfW  York  Qly. 


Nor  many  years  ago,  wlieii  po()|)lc  spoke 
al)oiil  mental  illness,  ihey  spoke  al)oiil  it 
in  whispers.  This  is  not  so  today.  We  lalk 
ahout  it  openly  hecause  we  know  somethinfj 
can  he  done  ahout  it.  Some  mental  illnesses  can 
be  treated,  so  that  the  mentally  sick  do  recover; 
some  mental  illnesses  can  be  prevented. 

Psychiatric  treatment  can  often  help  people 
whose  emotional  troubles  were  never  before 
considered  as  illness — couples  who  can't  make 
a  go  of  marriage;  children  with  school  and  be- 
havior problems;  alcoholics;  men  who  can't 
hold  a  job:  children  and  adults  with  chronic 
physical  illnesses:  delin(jucnls;  criminals. 

We've  come  a  long  way  since  the  days  when 
mentally  sick  people  were  burned  as  witches. 
But  there's  still  a  long  w-ay  to  go.  Mental  ill- 
ness is  still  the  nation's  No.  1  health  problem. 

At  least  9,000.000  Americans— 1  in  every 
16— are  today  suffering  from  mental  and  emo- 
tional disorders.  Right  now  there  are  650,000 
people  in  menial  hospitals.  At  the  present  rate, 
1  in  every  12  children  born  each  year  will 
someday  need  to  go  to  one. 

This  year  the  mental-health  associations — 
the  one  in  your  community,  and  scores  of 
others,  united  through  the  National  Associa- 
tion for  Mental  Health — are  making  a  nation- 
wide appeal  for  support  in  the  fight  against 
mental  illness.  Money  is  needed  for  more  re- 
search for  prevention  and  improved  treatment, 
more  mental-health  clinics,  more  education  so 
that  people  can  be  helped  to  avoid  and  prevent 
mental  and  emotional  illness.  You  will  no 
doubt  hear  more  about  the  mental-health  asso- 
ciation in  your  community  during  Mental 
Health  Week.  May  3rd  to  9th.  It  is  worth  your 
attention.  Your  gift  will  help  save  a  mind  from 
darkness.  the  end 


/iv  noHOl  II)    I  IK) \ll'>(}\ 


XiiK  world  has  a  false  picture  of  America.  Foreigners  see  us — and 
ill  llii-  ihev  arc  i  nrrecl — as  the  most  highly  developed  and  advanced  technological 
socielv.  W  e  are  a  country  of  mass  production,  achieved  by  the  greatest  division  of 
labor,  in  which  each  worker  is  confined  to  a  single  process.  Numerous  European 
writers  di  I  every  American  as  a  cog  or  an  expert,  as  a  mechanical  man.  The 
individual.  lh(  \  ruminate,  is  absorbed  in  the  work  process. 

The  perfection  of  technology,  they  therefore  argue,  leads  to  a  centralized  col- 
lectivist  society  since  it  is  impossible  to  "put  the  clock  back"  to  a  simpler,  more 
individualistic  age.  I  should  like  to  offer  a  counterthesis:  that  in  America  tech- 
nology- is  leading,  and  w  ill  increasingly  lead  to  more  decentralization,  greater  self- 
sufiiciency  ol  tlic  ianiih  unit,  and  that  the  future  promises  to  be  basically  and 
spiritually  more  like  the  world  of  our  grandparents,  that  the  American  is  rapidly 
recovering  his  amateur  status  in  life  as  a  whole,  and  that  the  very  gadgets  that 
European  intclh^ctuals  despise  are  encouraging  the  restoration  of  a  more  whole 
person,  w  ho  [)uts  to  use  manifold  gifts  and  ingenuities. 

When  Knicrson  wrote,  a  twelve-hour  dav  and  six-day  week  were  usual.  Man 
w-as  absorbed  in  his  subdivided  function  during  all  his  waking  hours.  Today  tech- 
nology enables  him  to  produce  and  earn  several  times  as  much  in  half  the  time. 

\^"hat  do  Americans  do  with  the  time  that  technological  development  has 
handed  bark  to  them?  (Continued  on  Page  14) 


Executive  Editor.  Marv  Bass  •  Managing  Editor.  Laura  Lou  Brookman  . .    ^    ,     ,       „  cv, 

Mary  Lea  P-«<^' ^^^^^  ,o«d^No  man  Mar^^^^^^^  ^^^^ ^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^^^^^  ^'^yJ^i^"'  ^""^  '^'^'^u    Nil.,  Grav 

Editorial  Associated  Zn  Vrner.  Ct^arlotte  Johnson.  Ruth  Mary  Packard  Ruth  Shapley  Matthews  Al.ce  Conkhng.  Joseph  D.  P,etro.  .^nne  E.nselen.  Be.ty  Niles  Gray. 

Elizabeth  Goelsch.  Nancy  Crawford.  Cynthia  McAdoo 
Assistant  Editors:  Charles  Stryker  Ingerman,  Victoria  Harris.  Rosemary  Jo^.es  Nelle  Keys  Perry^  Peter  Briggs.  Alice  ^^^^^f-J^^^:^^  Caspanar,, 
Virginia  Price.  Mar.on  Wilson.  liorothy  Anne  Robinson.  Jean  Todd  Freeman,  Jesse  Raymond  Fal.m  f;■^^'^.^^^Farland 
Editorial  A^^i Plants:  Lee  Stowell  CuUen.  Dolores  Knapp,  Patricia  Martin,  Aileen  I3owd.  June  Schwartz.  Grelchen  Wehler,  Babette  Bnmberg.  Janet  Ba^er 


L    A    I)     I     F,     S  '         II     O     M     K        .1     ()     U     K     IN    A  L 


May, 


1847  ROGERS  BROS. 

brings  you 


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I     \    II    I     I  II    n    M     I         I    <•    I  !( 


Only  in  solid  silvci-  hclorc . . . sim  Ii  i  i(  Iiim'^-> . 


snrli  wei<>iit ...  finch  li 


(VSS 


Ir.Ki  r.UiK  is  the  first  and  only  silvci pl.itc  i).i(iiiii  tn 
hriii};  yon  tlit'  rit  lilv  om.itc  (Icsij^ii  .  .  .  the  aj^cless 
i;.iii<;e  that  up  to  now  you  loiiiul  only  in  sohd  silver. 
Noic  the  (lee|)ly  carved  ornaiiientalion  .  .  .wroiiy;ht  with 
|i\vel-hke  perCection  tliat  inakis  1S»7  lloj;ers  Uros. 
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ur  heart  that  you're  holding  solid  silver. 
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eritaj!;e  can  be  yours  today,  to  enjoy  every  meal,  every 
y,  all  your  life  — only  $74.50  for  a  service  for  8. 


ce  Coflee  Service,  $97.50*.  .  .Waiter  (20"  without  lunuUes),  $42.50* 

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gracious  ease  to  vour  serving.  1847  Rogers  Bros,  proudly 
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wanted  for  vourself  and  to  give  as  gifts.  1847  Rogers  Bros. 
Is  the  only  sUverplate  to  bring  you  lovely,  lasting  lioUoware 
to  match  your  flatware.  See  it  today ! 


JuKt  |ii<  lur<-  ll«Tilap«'  on  your  tahli  ! 
How  hoikIiiImIK  il  ca|)tures  the  rich 
elegance  of  the  p.ist . . .  yet  looks  so  rlglit 
today. A  52-|)iece  service  for  8  In  a  h.uid- 
some  tarnisli-reslstaiit  chest  is  onb 
$74.50.  Eight  6 -piece  place  settings 
plus  4  essential  serving  pieces. 


>Ia<l«;  to  \anl  .1  hrcliiiic!  Kvcrv  piece  of 
I  IcTilage  by  1.S47  Rogers  Bros,  is  heavily 
plated  with  pure  siher.  Forks  and  s|jo<jiis 
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hollow  handles.  Thev  cannot  split  or  leak. 


Bread  Trav,  $17.50' 


1847  ROGERS  BROS. 

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Center  Bowl,  $27.50' 


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COPYRIGHT  1953.  THE  INTERNATIONAL  SILVE.;  CO..  MERIOEN.  CONN. 


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(Conlitrueil  from  Page  II) 

In  the  conventional  picture  they  sit  at 
television  sets,  go  to  movies,  play  canasta, 
and  that  is  about  all.  In  reality,  although 
they  do  all  these  things,  they  also  paint 
pictures,  make  inventions,  decorate  and 
even  partially  build  their  own  houses,  land- 
scape gardens,  make  their  own  clothes. 
The  scholar  prides  himself  as  a  cook;  the 
garment  worker  attends  art  classes;  the 
physician  fiddles  in  an  amateur  orchestra; 
the  advertising  executive  makes  the  furni- 
ture for  his  children's  playroom.  Tech- 
nology has  not  only  given  him  time  to  do 
so,  but  every  day  in  the  week  it  is  furnish- 
ing him  with  new  tools  to  help  him  work 
for  himself. 

Half  of  all  the  gadget  patents  issued  in 
this  country  go  to  basement  and  garage 
"inventors"  whose  paid  work  is  unrelated 
to  invention  or  even  to  science.  Like  their 
pioneer  ancestors— and  like  Henry  Ford 
and  Thomas  Edison,  who  had  no  formal  sci- 
ent''ic  or  engineering  training— they  are 
born  tinkerers.  The  image-dissector  camera 
tube,  which  made  television  possible,  was 
first  invented  by  a  Middle  Western  high- 
school  boy.  The  American  genius  has  never 
been  confined  within  scientific  laboratories. 

If  Sunday  painters  rarely  produce  dis- 
tinguished works  of  art.  some  occasionally 
do— in  America  as  well  as  in  France.  They 
don't  paint,  however,  for  money  or  for  fame, 
but  as  an  outlet  for  creative  energy.  Some- 
times they  are  discovered  by  critics,  dealers 
or  museum  directors,  as  Grandma  Moses 
was  discovered,  to  charm  two  continents. 
The  President  of  the  United  States  loves 
to  cook,  and  is,  by  all  accounts,  very  expert 
at  it.  And  I  know  busi- 
nessmen, writers,  artists, 
journalists  and  univer- 
sity   presidents  who 
would  rather  discuss  the 
Gourmet  Cookbook  tiian 
their  own  professions. 

The  professional  cook, 
as  a  household  domestic, 
has  all  but  vanished,  but 
American    cookery  has 
not  thereby  declined.  Women  who  "never 
boiled  an  egg,"  and  "career"  women  at 
that,  whip  up  four-course  meals  with  pro- 
fessional attention  to  balance  and  taste  in 
the  menu. 

Unless  one  gets  vegetables  fresh  from 
one's  garden,  the  frozen  ones— with  all  the 
preparatory  work  done— are  better  than 
the  half-wilted  "  fresh  "  ones  on  the  mar- 
kets. The  supermarkets  hand  you  roast, 
stew,  steak,  pot  roast  or  poultry  all  ready 
for  pot  or  oven  and  their  cookery  is  a  mat- 
ter of  art,  not  of  preparatory  drudgery. 

The  American  home  has  again  become  a 
great  work  center  for  self-impelled  persons, 
working  for  their  own  pleasure  and  profit. 

Check  on  the  sales  of  the  mail-order 
houses,  who  advertise  pages  of  power- 
driven  tools  for  carpentry.  Last  year,  from 
such  houses  and  other  firms,  $100,000,000 
worth  of  such  tools  were  sold  to  homeown- 
ers who  are  not  carpenters  and  who  spent 
upwards  of  three  billion  dollars  for  materials 
to  be  self-fabricated.  These  same  houses  sell 
bathrooms  and  kitchen  equipment,  to- 
gether with  complete  sets  of  plumbers'  tools 
and  blueprints  for  installing  them,  to  farm- 
ers and  suburbanites  who  are  not  plumbers. 
True,  in  many  areas,  trade-unions  and  in- 
spectors, often  working  in  collusion,  try  to 
prevent  this,  but  if  there  is  already  plumb- 
ing in  the  house  the  amateur  bootlegs  in  the 
extra  shower  or  powder  room. 

country  produces  by  virtue  of  di- 
vision of  labor  as  comely  well-cut  clothing 
as  cheaply  as  does  America.  But  in  no  other 
country  is  there  as  much  home  dressmak- 
ing! The  Singer  Sewing  Machine  Company 
recently  reported  that  today  30,000,000 
American  women  make  some,  at  least,  of 
their  own  and  their  children's  clothes.  Last 
year  home  dressmakers  bought  over  half  a 
billion  dollars'  worth  of  yard  goods,  $51,- 
000,000  worth  of  notions  and  novelties  and 
kept  32,000,000  sewing  machines  hum- 
ming. In  1950,  the  last  year  for  which  fig- 
ures are  available,  they  bought  200,000,000 


All  i  have  seen  teaches  me 
to  trust  the  Creator  for  all 
I  have  not  seen. 

—RALPH  WALDO  EMERSON 


dress  patterns,  more  than  there  are  peep 
in  the  United  States! 

Women  not  only  sew  to  get  more  for  th. 
money.  They  sew  to  get  clothes  that  a 
"different."  My  smartest  and  most  bea- 
tiful  woman  friend,  who  can  afford  origin 
Paris  hats,  makes  her  own— and  never  se< 
a  copy  on  another  woman's  head. 

"Do  it  yourself!"  Last  year  paint  fini 
sold  a  billion  and  a  half  dollars'  worth 
their  products;  65  per  cent  of  this  was  p 
on  walls  by  housewives  or  their  husbands 
at  a  fifth  of  the  cost  of  hiring  someone  to 
it.  Did  they  do  a  good  job?  Certainly.  T 
new  paints  with  a  liquid-rubber  base,  t 
gether  with  rollers  and  new-type  brush 
are  almost  foolproof  for  the  applier. 

Check  on  the  sales  of  work  clothes.  La 
year  clothing  manufacturers  produced  17; 
000,000  work  pants,  overalls  and  wo 
shirts.  Who  wears  them?  The  executive,  tl 
diplomat,  the  editor,  the  salesman.  Doii 
what?  Among  other  things,  trimming  hedgt 
potting  and  setting  out  seedlings  and  pru 
ing  shrubs  in  eighteen  and  a  half  milli( 
gardenerless  home  gardens— and  with  i 
genious  tools  designed  by  technology  f 
amateurs. 

For  years  advocates  of  the  simple  1 
have  been  preaching  subsistence  farmii 
and  excoriating  the  farmers  who  sell  th 
products  and  leave  the  family  larder  bai 
But  technology  has  done  more  for  su 
sistence  farming,  without  sacrifice  of  ca, 
income,  than  all  the  back-to-the-sr 
preachers  combined. 

The  farmer  used  to  sell  his  fatted  calvt 
his  buck  lambs,  his  broilers  and  his  fowl 
the   wholesale  mark 
and  then  find  hims 
unable  to  afford  to  bi 
meat  back  at  retail.  Ti 
day  the  farmer  takes  o 
enough  to  feed  his  fami 
for  a  whole  season,  aii 
puts  it  into  his  free2 
or  rented  locker.  A  pij 
ductive  vegetable  gard'i 
of  an  eighth  of  an  ac,l 
will  produce  vegetables  for  a  large  famii 
the  year  round.  My  ow-n  small  farm  ai! 
garden  feeds  three  small  families  all  th-j 
can  eat  of  meat  and  vegetables  the  yel 
round.  Farm  families  are  eating  tod  | 
better  than  they  ever  did,  at  less  cost,  bi 
cause  of  a  simple  invention— the  freez^li 

Thus,  the  net  effect  of  the  division 
labor  and  the  enormous  efticiency  resultil? 
from  it  is  to  return  man  to  himself  andJi 
his  home,  and  increase,  not  diminish,  tl 
self-sufficiency  and  range  of  activities. 

The  American  refuses,  now  as  always,  |i 
be  confined  to  one  job,  one  process.  Acii 
ally.  I  think  our  greatest  satisfactions  ^i 
derived  from  the  things  that  we  are  if: 
"supposed  "  to  do.  Praise  me  for  an  artii . 
that  I  have  written  and  I  shall  be  pleast 
because  I  have  never  written  one  th . 
wholly  satisfied  myself.  But  admire  t ; 
dainty  blanket  covers  on  my  guest-roc 
beds;  say  you  never  ate  a  better  Bavari 
cream;  praise  the  flowers  that  grew  fn 
seed  to  seedlings  to  great  clumps  frr 
window  sill  to  garden;  ask  me  for  my  ret 
for  puff  paste— /Aa/  will  make  me  bli 
with  pleasure.  That  will  make  me  real 
that  I  am  not  a  "writer."  but  a  woman  w 
writes,  writes  for  pleasure,  writes  for  a  1 
ing,  but  is  not  a  writing  machine.  I  laugli 
my  husband,  who,  when  a  critic  admire 
painting  he  has  made,  is  likely  to  add,  "li 
I  made  the  frame,"  the  painting  being  t 
professional  thing  that  he  knows  he  kno 
how  to  do,  the  frame  being  the  hobby  t 
ecuted  by  an  amateur  craftsman. 

Recreation  is  nothing  but  a  change 
work— an  occupation  for  the  hands 
those  who  live  by  their  brains,  or  for  t 
brains  by  those  who  live  by  their  han( 
and  we  shall  yet,  I  am  sure,  create  tl 
whole  society  of  whole  men  which  Emers 
envisioned.  And  if  we  accomplish  this, 
least  in  large  measure,  even  communii 
will  one  day  stop  in  its  tracks  and  ta 
another  look  around.  Man  was  not  mea 
to  live  in  an  anthill,  even  with  the  b 
plumbing.  THE  Et 


)i 


6*^    for  frozen  foods 
and  ice  cream 


13°  for  frozen  desserts 
and  quick  chiUins 


31  °  for  keeping 
fresh  meats  fresh 


40^  humid  cold  for  fresh 
fruits  and  vegetables 


'or  i^*«P'ng  butter 
oaif  ro  tpread 


It  takes  7  different  areas  of  cold -from  6°  to  55°- to  keep 
basic  foods  like  these  in  prime  condition.  You  get  all  7  of 
these  essential  Food  Climates-all  working  at  once-in  the 

New7-Climate  Refrigerators 


53,  INTERNATIONAL  HARVESTER  COMPANY 


by  INTERNATIONAL  HARVESTER 


I 


Distinguished  new 
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tool  Look  for  name  of  your 
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oomiest  Ever!  New  19.53  design  gives 
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INTERNATIONAL 
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Sponge  Mop 


No  More 
Wringing 'No 

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You  simply  press  the  water 
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faster.  Useful  dozens  of  ways. 
Be  sure  you  get  a  genuine 
O-Cedar  Sponge  Mop — the  wet 
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Proved  in  use  by  more 
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Sponge  Mop  Refills 
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Catches 
More  Oust...onc/ 
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$029 


Famous 

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Exclusive  "sweep 
suction"  action 
holds  even  the  fin- 
est dust  particles. 
Gets  into  corners 
and  covers  wide 
floor  areas  with 
every  sweep.  Insist 
on  a  genuine 
O-Cedar  Dust  Mop 
— the  mop  with  the 
fastest  pickup ! 


O-CEDAR  CORP'N 

Chicago,  Illinois — Subsidiary  of 

AMERICAN-MARIETTA  COMPANY 

O  Cedor  of  Conado,  Ltd.,  Stratford,  Ontario 


i3 


Queen  Victoria  and  E<l\*ard  VII:  The 
Baccarat  Scan«lalatTraiil>\0<>ft.  1891. 


mer-f ,omr 

Bv  BERNARDINE  KIELTi' 


SINCE  the  postparadise  days  of 
_  Adam  and  Kve  the  favorite  theme 
for  mellow  refleetion  has  always  been 
"Ho«  times  have  ehanfied!"  For  a 
I  h<»r<»ii^:li^oin;r  pieliire  of  how  they''\e 
eliiiiiiiecl  \t  1 1  hill  I  lie  span  of  a  life!  i me, 
read  that  remarkable  hook RECOl.LEC- 
l  iO>S  OK  THKKK  RKI(;\S.  the  mem- 
oirs of  .Sir  Frt'tlrrifk  l^ansoiihw  Keeper 
ol'  the  Pri>>  I'lirse  for  21  y«'ars  under 
yiieeii  \i<'loria  ami  Kin^  Kilvvard  \ 
I  reasiirer  to  (M'orfie  \  until  I9.'{.).  ^oii 
may  sisli — or  elap  \oiir  bands! — at 
llie  dilTereiK'e  in  llie  daily  life  of  the 
present  vtorkadav  mo«lern  (^ueen. 

When  Queen  Victoria  ale  breakfast 
everything  on  the  table  was  gold.  She  ate  a 
boiled  egg  in  a  gold  eggcitp  with  a  gold 
spoon.  Two  Indian  khidmatgars  in  scarlet 
and  gold  remained  motionless  behind  her 
chair,  while  outside  a  page  and  a  Scotch- 
man in  kills  awaited  her  bell.  At  her  din- 
ners everyone  whispered  except  the  two  on 
either  side  of  the  Queen,  and  after  din- 
ner—for the  entire  evening — all  the  men 


had  to  stand,  gout,  rheumatism,  and  slight 
or  heavy  fevers  notwithstanding. 

When  the  Queen  went  for  a  drive  in 
London  she  drove  in  an  open  landau 
with  one  footman  and  a  Highlander  up 
behind  four  horses  with  postilions,  two 
outriders  in  front,  and  two  grooms  in 
rear.  In  addition  two  Equerries  in  tall 
hats  and  frock  coats  rode  on  either  side 
of  the  carriage. 


Of  I rfineiuloii.i  vtilue  is  sound  ad- 
vice on  hoir  to  /set  along  irith  chil- 
dren—  especially  one's  own.  FIRST 
.S  I  KI'S  l\  A  GROWN-UP  W  ORLD.  Help 
for  Parents  v»itb  Pre-Sebool  ("bildren. 
hy  Mary  Eilae  Harlan,  may  at  Jirst 
sight  seem  olirions.  So  are  all  good 
<leeds.  The  idea  is  to  meet  the  childon 
his  own  level  —  down  on  the  floor  if 
tieeessary:  to  see  things  as  nearly  as 
possible  as  he  sees  them.  .1  small  book 
full  of  wisdom. 

iContinueil  on  Page  18} 


.^tfRTve  him  away." 


I    \  ll   I  I 


II     <>     M     I  I     "     I      II      N     \  I. 


The  home  yout/e  ^/iv$ys  i/i/$nfecf, 

(/team  ki/chen  ancf  $1/  f 


I'.iijoN  aciiimlul  ^c>ull^sl(l\^M  Kili  licii  bcaulil'ullv  dcidraU 

'X'liK  HOME  yoir\c  always  waiiti-d  .  .  .  designed  to 
^  make  your  life  easier,  more  enjoyable  .  .  .  has  a 
timesaving,  work-saving  dream  kitchen,  a  lovely  s\ccl 
Youngstown  Kitchen. 

Choose  your  Cabinet  Sink  fron)  13  Youngstown 
Kitchens  luxury  models.  Each  has  a  one-i)icce.  acid- 
resisting  ])orcelain-enameled  steel  to[)  plus  many  other 
deluxe  features  to  make  your  work  easier,  faster.  .\dd 
wall,  hase  and  utility  cabinets  of  sturdy  steel  to  complete 
the  Youngstown  Kitchen  custom-j)lanncd  for  you. 

What's  more,  you  can  decorate  your  Youngstown 
Kitchen  in  thrilling  color  combinations  of  your  choice. 
America's  leading  artists  and  decorators  have  joined 


•Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off. 


w  itli  Youngstown  Kitchens  to  offer  you  new  Coiitrollcd 
Color  Kitchen  Decorating. 

You  save  time,  you  .save  work  .  .  .  with  bakcd-on 
enamel  finishes  that  wijie  clean  easily,  doors  that  won't 
buckle,  drawers  that  won't  stick  .  .  .  plenty  of  easy-to- 
reach  .storage  s[)ace,  efficient  work  surfaces. 

Thousands  of  liuilders,  architects  and  Youngstown 
Kitchen  dealers  are  equipjjed  to  give  you  specialized 
kitchen  planning  and  decorating  advice.  Send  coii|K)n 
below,  and  visit  the  model  homes  open  for  inspection. 

MULLINS   MANUFACTURING  CORPORATION 

WARREN,  OHIO 

Youngstown    Kitchens   are    sold    throughout   the  World 


Be  your  own 

Landlord!" 

If  you  long  for  a  new  home,  as  indicate<l 
by  your  check  mark  on  tlie  coupon,  we  will 
send  'J4-paRe  Ixtok  loaded  with  facts  \  ou'll 
want  to  know  alxiut  home  ownership. 

Find  out  wlial  you  can  have  in  today's 
house— how  you  can  have  a  home  that's 
modem  fodav.  modern  to  stav. 


KO  DISHES! 


NO  GARBAGE! 


Youngstown  Kitchens 
Electric  Sink,  t'caturiii;; 
.Jet-IOwer*  Disli- 
washer.  waslies. 
flushes  and  rinses  ail 
dishes  .  .  .  pots  and 
pans,  too  .  .  .  hygien- 
ically  clean  in  less 
than  10  minutes. 
Food  Waste  Dis- 
)x)scr  and  rinse  spray 
at  extra  cost.  .\sk 
also  about  'i7"  Jet- 
Tower*  Disliwa.slier. 


Youngstown  Kitchens 
new  Food  Waste  Disposer 

slircds  all  I'lxxl  waste 
down  the  drain  and 
out  of  sifihl  before  it 
can  become  stale, 
foul-smellinof  gar- 
bage. New  design 
means  you  save  on 
installation  costs.  3 
ways  best:  continu- 
ous feed,  douljle- 
action  shredding, 
self-cleaning  action. 


For  tlie  name  of  your  nearest  dealer,  consult  ttie  yellow  pages  of  your  telephone  directory  under 
"Kitchen  Equipment- Household,"  or  "Kitchen  Cabinets,"  or  call  Western  Union,  Operator  25. 


Mullins  Manufacturing  Corporation 
Dept.  L-SS3,  Warren,  Ohio 

Please  senct  newest  kitchen-planning,  decoration  ideas. 
I  enclose  10c  to  cover  the  cost  of  mailing.  (No  stamps,  please.) 
I  plai;  to  build  a  house  I  plan  to  buy  o  house 

I  plon  to  modernize 


NAME    (Pleose  print) 


CITY 


ZONE 


COUNTY 


STATE 

■  1953  Mullin«  Manufacturing  Corporation 


1« 


I,  A  n  I  r,  s  • 


II    o    \I  F. 


J   o   r   K   N  \  I, 


Proieci  all  woolens  from  first  floor  io  aiik 

A  REAL  GUARANTEE  SINCE  1930!  Far  more  than  just  a 
"money-back"  guarantee.  Berlou  repairs,  replaces  or  pays  actual 
cash  value  of  clothes,  rugs,  furniture,  blankets,  etc.,  if  moths 
damage  them  within  FIVE  YEARS! 

ODORLESS!  COLORLESS!  And  non-inflammable!  Use  Berlou 
Guaranteed  Mothspray  with  confidence  on  the  finest  materials — 
on  ALL  the  woolens  in  your  home.   No  tell-tale  odors. 

SO  EASY  TO  APPLY!  You  can  "Berlou"  any  article  in  minutes 
with  an  ordinary  spray  gun.  A  vacuum  cleaner  spray  attachment 
does  it  quicker  and  easier.  Berlou  penetrates  deep  into  each  tiny 
fiber  of  fabric. 

A  FEW  PENNIES  A  YEAR!  Simple,  inexpensive  spraying  with 
Berlou  eliminates  annual  wrapping  and  storing  precautions  for 
woolens!    Safer,  and  saves  so  much  time! 

MOTHS:  A  $200,000,000  ENEMY!  Many  homes  report  damage 
running  into  four  figures.  Don't  \sait  for  moth  damage!  Protect 
your  floor  coverings  and  other  hard-to-replace  woolens  now —  the 
easy  way — the  safe  way — the  Berlou  way. 

GET  BERLOU  TODAY!  At  your  drug,  department,  hardware,  rug  or 
furniture  store.  Remember,  a  moth-free  home  is  a  sign  of  good 
housekeeping.  If  your  local  dealer  can  not  supply  you,  contact  us 
direct.  And  for  an  interesting  free  folder,  "How  to  Stop  Moth 
Damage,"  write  to:  /^ZZT^ 

The  Berlou  Manufacturing  Co.,  Dept.  LJ,  Marion,  Ohio 
In  Canada,  The  Berlou  Company,  Ltd.,  London,  Ontario,  Canada. 


BERLOU 


Used  by  More  PROFESSIONAL  MOTHPROOFERS 
Than  All  Other  Mothsprays  Combined! 


NOTE  TO  BUSY  HOUSEWIVES:  Berlou  mothproofing  service  is  available  to  you  at 
leading  Dry  Cleaners,  Launderers,  Rug  Cleaners,  Carpet  Dealers  and  Furniture  Dealers. 


(Continued  from  Page  16) 
Naturally  Yours,  by  Cath- 
leen  Schurr,  is  an  account  of  the  author 
having  her  first  baby  with  Dr.  Read's 
book  on  natural  childbirth  at  hand,  told 
with  an  Egg-and-I  amusing  approach. 


A  lovely  rliihiren''s  l>ook  of  rertain 
interest  to  LIIJ  readers  is  THE 
MAKE-BELIEVE  TWINS,  verses  by 


THE  MAKE-BELIEVE  TWINS    BY  PHYLLIS  MCGINI.EY 
ILLUSTRATED  BY  ROBERTA  MACDONALD 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


Peter  and  I'enn>  as  pirates. 


PhylliK  IVIeGinley,  illiistraliofiN  hy 
Roberta  IVlaeDonald.  Inere<libl>  beaii- 
lil'iil  iloiible-patie  roK>r  sprea<Ls. 


7'/i  Cents,  by  Richard  Bissell, 
author  of  A  Stretch  on  the  River, 

is  fresh  Americana,  breathing — with  not 
always  too  clean  a  breath — the  world  of 
drive-ins,  diners,  juke  boxes,  jaded  wait- 
resses. ..."  You-want-French-fries-or- 
tbe-home-fries  ?  You-want-coffee-now-or- 
later?  You-want-shrimp-cocktail?  You- 
care-foT-a-drink-at-lhe-bar  ? ' ' 


In  ease  yon  ever  gel  yonr  niaKazine 
late:  there  are  more  than  nine  million 
subscribers  to  the  Curtis  piiblieations, 
;in<l  <liirinK  19.>2  tlx'  Subsi'ription  Di- 
vision lianillecl  nitire  Iban  t»(>  niilli<m 
ebanses  of  ad«lress. 


The  traveler  who  goes  to  Europe  this 
Coronation  year  will  have  to  be  hardy  and 
well-heeled.  Hotels  will  be  crowded,  prices 
high,  and  the  countries  overrun  with 
people  who  do  not  live  in  them.  Neverthe- 
less we  wish  we  were  going. 

London  is  such  a  lovely  place  no 
matter  what— our  great-great-great- 
grandmother  city,  our  tradition,  our 
language,  our  Shakespeare,  our  Dick- 
ens. . .  .  The  London  police  button  their 
coats  opposite  ways  every  three  months 
so  the  wear  comes  out  even.  .  .  .  The 
Tube  entrances  (subways  to  us)  have 
big  posters  telling  where  wild  birds  may 
be  watched.  .  .  .  The  British  Museum, 
recataloguing  its  files  for  the  past  18 
years,  people  working  at  it  eight  hours  a 
day,  hopes  to  get  the  job  done  by  the 
year  2080.  ...  In  1722  in  London  men 
used  to  be  employed  to  carry  people 
across  the  filthier  crossings  of  the 
city. .  . .  The  turf  on  Lord's  cricket  field 
is  the  original  turf  used  since  the  cricket 
club  was  founded  in  1787.  ...  In  1812 
after  the-Napoleonic  invasion  Moscow 
was  largely  rebuilt  with  London  cinders 
and  rubbish  that  had  accumulated 
mountain-high.  The  Russians  paid  $45,- 
000  for  the  mountain,  and  shipped  it  to 
(Conlinufil  on  Page  21) 


George  Mikan,  6  foot-in  inch  ^lar  nl  wurld's 
champion  Minneapolis  Laker  basketball  team, 
shows  women  that  the  new  Rid-Jid  table  has 
ample  knee  room  for  comfortable  ironing. 

MR.  BASKETBALL 
DEMONSTRATES! 
NEW  KNEE  room' 
IRONING  TABLE 

This  week,  the  unusual  curved  legs  of  this 
Rid-Jid  Knee  Room  Ironing  Table  were 
making  the  happiest  kind  of  news  for 
womeia  who  "hate  ironing".  Here,  for  the 
first  time,  they  find  a  great  big  open  space 
for  their  knees,  and  a  new  kind  of  really 
comfortable  sit-down  ironing.  As  toweling 
George  Mikan  shows,  there  is  no  need 
for  side-saddle  posture;  no  more  bending, 
stretching  or  twisting.  With  the  new 
Rid-Jid  Knee  Room,  any  woman  can  sitj 
right  up  to  the  working  surface  and  reachs 
any  part  of  the  table  easily.  The  patented! 
open-mesh  top  lets  heat  and  moisture 
flow  right  through,  keeping  pad  dry  foij 
faster,  cooler  ironing.  To  give  comfort-j 
level  efficiency  for  tall  or  short  womerri 
— sitting  or  standing — finger-tip  contro) 
lets  table  click  easily  to  any  height  fron^ 
24  to  36  inches.  Table  has  gracefu 
chrome  legs  and  sunshine  yellow  bakec 
enamel  top.  Now  on  sale  at  O  Q'' 
leading  stores.  Yours  for  only       |  ^  * 

FAIR  TRADEf 


Patented  open-mesh  top  helps  yon  iron  drii, 
. .  .faster.  10  height  adjustments.  You  can  s 
or  stand  and  iron  at  your  own  comfort  lave 


ADJUSTABL^ 
ALL-STEEL  j 
IRONING  TABfl 
The  J.  R.  Clark  Company  •  Spring  Park,  MinnesotJ 


INow. . . 
available 
again  in 
sparkl/i 
chro  vn 


THE  ORIGINAL 
TRIGGER  OPERATED 
TEA  KETTLE 


1 


singing  tea  kettle 

What  a  demon  for  work!   You  just  flick 
thf  rangf  switch  and  Trig  has 
2 '.  2  quarts  of  hot  water  ready  in  a 
jiffy  —  for  any  one  of  those  dozens 
of  uses  all  day  long.   Ask  for 
TRIG  by  name.    You  11  sec  this  AU- 

American  favorite  trigger-operated  tea 
kettle  in  gleaming  chrome  on  solid  copper. 
Also  available  in  Color-glo  aluminum. 

$475 

$450 

DdPHINIUM  BLUE 


CHROME  ON  SOLID  COPPER 

CHOICE  OF  3  CONORS 
color-i;lo  alitrniutirn 
SUNSET  GOID  •  CHERRY  RED 


FOR  DRIP  COFFEE 


You  don't  have  to  wait 
.  .  .  Trig  has  boiling 
water  ready  quickly. 
You  just  press  the  trig- 
ger and  pour. 


MAKING  TEA 


The  Trig  makes 
enough  hot  water  for 
your  first  cups  and  to 
refill  the  teapot,  too. 


PIPING  HOT  SOUP 


The  popular  packaged 
soups  and  bouillon 
help  you  prepare  a 
meal  in  a  minute.  Just 
add   fresh   hot  water. 


PREPARING  JELLO 


For  your  favorite 
molded  salad  or  des- 
sert. Trig  has  the  hot 
water  ready  when  you 
want  it. 


INSTANT  COFFEE 


For  quick,  delicious 
coffee  in  the  cup. 
Make  instant  hot  choc- 
olate for  the  young- 
sters, too. 


at  leading  housewares 
and  appliance  stores 

in  the  U.  S.  and  Canada 


WRITE  DEPT.  675 


WEST  BEND  ALUMINUM  CO. 

WEST  BEND.  WISCONSIN 


I      \    1'     I     I  II  • 

(l  i>ntii»U0il  (mm  I'lttf  I- 
Kussia.  (From  I^>mhi>  is  mk^m.ik 
Than  Firiio%.  piihlisliid  .iIim.jkI 


lirl/*  INVI  I  \  |  |0>  10  I  Ul.l  >  ,  Ihr 
IfUnri'lx  ultf  iiihI  inki'  in  u  iiiurilul 
oil  mil  inn.  I'iiai'iinilinu  Inr  il»  tnalulil 
•  HI  iIh-  purl  «(  iIm-  ».iti-,  iitiil  Inr  llir 
liliirU  Hi  ulil>nriiii>-«i>  nl  I  lie  lin«liiiMil 
^^«•'rl•  nnl  |iri'jiiilirril. 

I  f  you  want  to  be  Htriclly  iii  ilii-  know 
about  woiiicii,  and  arc  willinn  to  invfHi 
$1(1,  buy  i'liK,  SH:«»Mt  Snx,  by 
Kxislciilialisl  Sinumv  ilv  Itviinvttir. 
It  isn't  fsixrially  siiintilu,  it  ih  not 
liard  lo  rcatl,  and  all  the  "Hniarl" 
IX'oplf  u  ill  be  disi  iissiiu'.  It. 


M  I 


I'll 


21 


lilif    IKI.S     I  III     I  ^ 

/■Viri'M  «•//. 


II  tmii'H  II I 
I  \ll(    >>l  \ 


n.,1 

>M  NlM.I 


It  was  tiu'  day  of  tiii-  bin  snow.  Roads 
wen-  iiiipassabli'.  'riifri'  was  no  mail 
No  dflivirits.  l-'maliy  Hit-  frantic  youn« 


I'l  VKM  MIMIVH-K 


Old  cabbie  in  isiiowstoriii. 


mother  telephoned  to  her  owti  mother, 
"The  diaper  service  hasn't  come, 
mummy  I  Is  it  all  right  if  I  do  them  my- 
self?" 

• 

TIIK  Sl<;\  OF  .lows,  liy  Thomas 
Mi'riitii.  lakes  lip  llic  aiillinr's  life  in 
(FClhsciiiaiii  Moiia.>-l<-r>  in  KcnIiK-ky. 
afUr  he  liail  uiillcii  .SKVKN  .SIOUEY 
IMOIINTAIN.  tlic  l\in  books  consli- 
liitiiiK  an  altoficlbcr  rcinarkalilo  in- 
si;:Ii  I  in  In  I  lie  in i nil  of  a  truly  reli;:iiiiis 
iiKxIerii  man.  as  «eil  as  a  <Iiselosiirc 
of  monastery  life,  iisiiallv  u«  ll  liiililen 
from  prying  eyes. 


A  Texas  Journal  reader.  lAllian 
n  ebsier.  has  just  celebrated  her  eight- 
ieth birthday,  doesn't  wear  glasses  or 
hearing  aid,  drives  her  car,  keeps  herown 
home,  is  active  in  clubs  and  in  Austin's 
social  life,  and  has  just  written  a 
book,  Mk.mokiks  of  Mink. 


Iloic  tittles  hate  ehan^etl.'  U  heti 
Phineas  Fosi!!,  in  \KOlM>  I  HK  VS  OKLIJ 
IN  KU;H  rY  D  V^  S.  l>y  Jules  I  erne, 
ivnfiereil  lliiit  he  eitiild  1:0  raitnd  the 
UitrUI  in  eia/ify  flays  he  set  tmt  on 
the  very  </o_v  //i«it  lie  ttiade  the  trager. 
Try  to  do  tliat  ttoic!  ff  ith  passports, 
visas,  vaccination  certificates,  travel 
checks,  and  so  oti  and  so  oti.  it 
takes  lotiaer  to  get  ready  to  go  thati 
to  circtiiniiavisate  the  globe. 


Two  of  the  most  attractive  figures  in 
contemporary  fiction  arrive  this  month 
in  two  delicious  novels.   The  Hour 

(Continued  on  Page  25) 


? 


(LCii-i  *  Sr.  ^  .  .  varijilun  on  ihc  cl4v%ic 
dc%\cri  luf  iiicicf»  halfa  Morida  grapcfruil: 
Halve  Krapefruil,  lootcn  wcliont.  Arrange 
orange  scctionik  on  lop  in  tunburii  cfTeci. 
To  scfic  hot.  broil  about  10  minuter  till 
lifihlly  browned 


Ra-flll  empty  grapefruit  sliells  with  scooped -out 
sections  and  cubed  orange  gelatin  made 
from  orange  juice  and  unflavored  gelatin. 
Use  non-caloric  sweetener.  (Your  grocer 
has  it.) 

Freeze  i:an  of  citrus  salad  (orange  and  grape- 
fruit sections  mixed),  serve  spooned  over 
berries  or  fruit. 


If  dessert  time's  a  struggle  between 
calories  and  your  conscience,  tempt 
yourself  with  these  desserts,  made 
with  low-calory  Florida  grapefruit! 
Juicy,  thin-skinned  Florida  grape- 
fruit is  popping-full  of  flavor  and 
vitamin  C. 

"C"  isone  vitamin  yourbody  doesn't 
store,  needs  daily  to  help  keep  en- 
ergy and  resistance  to  infection  high. 
The  natural  fruit  sugars  of  Florida 
grapefruit  give  you  extra  quick  en- 
ergy, too,  without  the  penalty  of 
added  weight  or  inches! 

aORlDA  CITRUS  COMMISSION,  LAKELAND.  FLORIDA 


Canned  Florida  grapefnilt 
juice  is  handy,  econom- 
ical way  to  get  "C". 
Fresh  tasting,  too! 


Fresli  Florida  grapefruit 

are  famous  for  thinner 
skins  outside,  more 
juicy  sections  inside. 


Canned  Florida  grapefruit 
sections,  rich  in  "C". 
are  ready  to  use  in  sal- 
ads, fruit  cups. 


Fresh  frozen  concentrated 
juice — just  add  water, 
stir.  Store  in  freezing 
compartment. 


FLORIPA  Grapefruit 

"Hie  Bracer  T-rultr 


An  Advertisement  Presented  in  the  Public  Interest  by  New  York  Life 


Photos  taken  at  New  York  Medical  College^  flower  and  Fifth  A  venue  Hospitals 


Should 

Your  Child 
he  a 
Doctor? 

BY  WALTER  CALVAREZMD. 

EMERITUS  CONSULTANT 
IN  MEDICINE  AT  THE  MAYO  CLINIC 

As  told  to  Morion  Sontheimer 

'T'HE  DAY  after  I  graduated  from  high  school  my  busy 
A  doctor  father  did  something  he  had  never  done 
before — he  tooic  me  out  to  lunch  with  him.  After  the 
meal  he  sat  for  a  minute  thoughtfully  stroking  his  goatee. 
Finally  he  said,  "Well,  Walter,  what  do  you  want  to  do 
as  a  life  work?" 

I  was  surprised.  "Why,  Dad,"  I  replied.  "Am  I  not  to 
be  a  doctor?" 

He  leaned  forward  eagerly.  "You  really  want  to  be  a  J 
doctor?"  he  asked.  j 

"I  have  never  thought  of  anything  else."  j 

A  smile  of  relief  and  satisfaction  came  over  his  face.  I  j 
realized  at  that  moment  that  he  would  never  have  urged  j: 
me  to  follow  in  his  footsteps.  No  parent  should  ever  ! 
force  his  child  into  medicine.  Unless  a  young  man  or 
woman  truly  wants  to  be  a  doctor,  you  cannot  expect 
him  to  persevere  through  the  long,  arduous,  exacting 
years  of  training. 

Many  a  friend  has  asked  me,  "Why  didn't  you  make 
at  least  one  of  your  two  sons  a  doctor?"  And  my  answer 
has  been,  "I  wouldn't  attempt  to  ma/<e  either  of  them 
anything."  I've  told  my  children,  "You  decide  what  you| 
want  to  be  and  I'll  give  you  the  best  possible  education  | 
for  it."  I 

The  desire  to  be  a  doctor,  though,  is  only  a  first  re- 
quirement. The  other  requisites  are  qualities  a  parent] 
will  be  able  to  recognize  early.  If  you  or  your  child  are 
considering  medicine  as  his  career,  ask  yourself  these 
questions  about  him: 

Is  he  studious?  Medicine  is  perhaps  the  hardest  of  all 
professions  to  learn  well.  To  be  a  good  physician  a  I 
man  must  keep  studying  all  his  days.  I 

Are  his  school  marks  high?  He  must  have  a  highl 
scholastic  record  or  he  will  not  be  accepted  by  the] 
medical  school. 

Is  he  interested  in  science?  I  started  reading  science 
literature  voraciously  at  the  age  of  12.  I  haven't  stopped] 
yet.  Without  scientific  interest,  I  cannot  imagine  a  person ' 
being  either  successful  or  happy  in  medicine.  . 


M  I 


23 


'  l-iiially,  can  you,  liis  parents,  give  liini  the  linancial 
.dp  he  will  surely  necil?  !  his  is  a  sacrilice  you  must 
nakc.  It's  a  consiiicrable  one  to  the  average  father  and 
Mother.  Three  years  in  pre-niedical  college,  four  years 
n  medical  school,  two  years  as  an  intern  and  resident, 
ind  perhaps  three  years  in  a  big  clinic  learning  a  specialty 
1 2  long  years  in  all-  will  cost  the  lamily  some  SI  'i.tMX). 
I  cHlay  many  deans  will  mn  let  a  man  start  in  medical 
.chool  unless  he  has  this  large  sum  in  sight.  Why? 
k-cau.sc  today  the  course  is  so  dillicult  that  a  stuilent 
;mnoI  hope  to  work  his  way  through.  After  that,  let  us 
rmcmher  that  the  young  tloctor  heginning  practice  may 
iLcd  another  $5,()()()  to  lit  up  Ins  oMice  and  to  tide  him 
nor  tiie  waiting  pcriiul  ot  |XThaps  lisc  ve.irs  Ix-foie  he 
,an  make  a  decent  lisiiiL; 

Now  let's  consider  some  of  the  suhtler  i|ualities.  like 
-■ourage,  that  a  young  person  should  Iki\c  if  he  hopes 
lo  become  a  good  doctor.  Tor  msiancc,  ihc  other  night 
It  10  o'clock  I  was  called  to  help  two  able  colleagues,  a 
lamily  physician  and  a  surgeon,  make  a  decision. 

I  or  ten  days  a  little  boy  had  lam  desperately  ill.  FO 
o|XTate  might  take  away  what  little  chance  of  life  the 
child  had.  l  o  let  him  go  the  night  might  mean  that  by 
morning  he  would  be  too  far  gone  for  surgery  to  help. 
The  terrible  decision  had  to  be  made  and  it  IkkI  to  be 
made  right  then.  We  decided  to  operate. 

The  family  phy.sician  called  in  the  young  parents. 
I'hey  were  understandably  reluctant  to  allow  a  dangcroLis 
operation.  Firmly,  yet  with  utmost  sympathy,  the  doctor 
explained  the  situation  and  won  their  consent,  it  was 
hard  for  me  to  sleep  that  night  with  the  outcome  of  that 
decision  weighing  on  my  heart.  And  the  family  doctor- 
think  how  hard  it  would  have  been  for  him  to  face  those 
parents  if  our  judgment  had  turned  out  wrong.  Fortu- 
nately, it  didn't.  The  child  got  well. 

Incidents  like  that  are  common  in  a  doctor's  life. 
Often,  in  some  farm  house  in  the  dead  of  night,  he  has 
to  face  them  alone  and  with  full  responsibility.  One  such 
episode  tells  volumes  about  the  qualities  that  should  be 
inborn  in  the  physician.  Think  about  these  qualities 
when  you  contemplate  a  medical  career  for  your  child. 

He  must  not  only  have  good  judgment,  but  the  special 
kind  of  courage  needed  to  act  upon  it,  when  hesitation 
might  be  fatal.  If  he  is  going  to  be  a  good  doctor,  he 
must  have  the  faculty  of  leadership  and  the  ability  to 
influence  people  for  their  own  good.  He  must  be  able  to 
remain  calm  in  the  presence  of  danger.  He  needs  patience, 
optimism,  equanimity. 


With  ri'scarc'h  ;i(ldiii^  iu*m  facilities  cai'ti  >i-;ir,  ini'diral  cdiuation  is  tH't  oiiiin;^  inori'  aii(t  inori*  conipli'K.  Hitc 
ti'sis  lire  iiiadi-  on  uniiiial  hi-art  tissues  lo  dvtiTniini-  the  ifTtclivini  ss  of  druus  »hii  h  nia>  Mimi-du>  str»i'  millions. 


Ability  to  interpret  X-ray  plates  is  important  in  diagnosis.  The 
modern  physician  should  be  well  trained  in  the  use  of  X-ray, 
ituoroscope  and  similar  equipment. 


\  or  many  reasons  he  sluuild  h.i\c  uIlmIisiu  and  hon- 
esty, but  especially  so  that  people  uill  hclievc  him  and 
believe  in  him.  Above  all,  he  shouki  like  people.  And  it 
will  be  ucll  for  him  to  have  a  strong,  robust  body, 
because  medicine  can  be  the  most  exacting  of  jobs.  For 
months  at  a  time  it  may  keep  him  on  call  24  hours  out 
of  the  24. 

Some  of  these  characteristics  may  be  developed,  but 
the  discerning  parent  can  look  for  the  beginnings  of  them 
in  adolescence.  Watch  especially  for  the  kind  of  young- 
ster whom  dogs  and  little  children  instinctively  trust.  It 
is  a  good  sign  for  the  future  doctor. 

The  career  of  medicine  is  varied  enough  to  accommo- 
date many  types  of  personality.  A  graduate  doctor  can 
become  a  general  practitioner,  a  specialist,  an  employee 
of  a  large  company  or  of  the  government,  a  teacher,  a 
laboratory  worker  or  a  researcher.  He  can  work  alone  or 
in  a  big  clinic.  With  his  medical  degree  he  can  always  be 
reasonably  assured  of  work. 

It  can  bring  a  good  enough  financial  reward,  too.  But 
the  wealthy  physician  so  many  people  have  in  mind 
when  they  think  of  medicine  as  a  career  for  their  child 
is  like  the  smaller  part  of  the  iceberg  that  sticks  out  of 
water.  For  every  one  like  him,  there  are  do/ens  of  doc- 
tors who  just  make  a  comfortable  living.  The  average 
income  of  a  physician  in  the  United  States  is  less  than 
SI 3,000  a  year,  according  to  the  latest  survey. 

More  and  more  girls  are  going  into  the  profession.  I 
do  think,  though,  that  it  is  easier  to  discover  the  young 
woman  who  is  fitted  for  it.  She  will  stand  out  among  her 
sisters  even  more  than  does  the  young  man  among  his 
fellows.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  an  unusual  young  woman 
who  is  interested  in  science.  Although  women  doctors  do 
marry,  the  girl  who  will  maintain  her  scientific  interest 
despite  considerations  of  marriage  is  rare. 

Invariably,  I  believe,  this  sort  of  girl  will  have  a 
strong  character,  recognizable  qualities  of  leadership 
and  exceptional  talents  as  a  student. 

Perhaps  all  this  makes  the  career  of  medicine  seem 
like  a  hard  and  exacting  taskmaster.  It  is,  and  to  state 
it  any  other  way  would  be  unfair. 

But  I  can  say  this — there  is  no  finer  profession  a  young 
person  can  enter.  It  offers  a  high  standing  in  the  com- 
munity and  a  wonderful  opportunity  to  be  helpful  to 
others  and  to  do  great  good.  I  know  of  no  other  work 


know  of  no  other  vocation  that  rewards  its  practitioners 
with  such  a  feeling  of  accomplishment.  I  know  of  no 
other  profession  that  can  give  a  parent  so  much  pride 
in  the  achievements  of  his  son  or  daughter. 

From  the  moment  I  set  out  to  be  a  doctor— and  I 
was  so  young  I  do  not  know  exactly  when  it  was — I  have 
never  regretted  the  decision.  ♦  «  « 


HOW  TO  HELP  VOIR  CHILD 
F»REPARE  FOR  ANY  CAREER 

Whether  your  child  is  a  toddler  or  in  his  teens,  you  are 
the  keystone  to  whatever  career  he  is  to  build.  Your  task 
is  to  inspire,  guide  and  make  possible.  ///  the  course  of 
building  his  career  many  people  will  make  contributions: 
teachers,  researchers,  specialists  of  many  kinds. 

One  specialist — and  his  training  and  devotion  to  duty 
earn  that  title  for  him — is  your  New  York  Life  agent. 
It  is  never  too  soon  to  enlist  his  aid— for  he  can  help 
you  to  make  sure  that  the  future  you  plan  for  your  child 
will  be  possible. 

You'll  find  additional  help  in  the  pamphlet.  "  The  Cost 
of  Four  Years  at  College."  Send  for  a  free  copy  at  the 
address  below. 

NEW  YORK  LIFE 
Iiisurauee  Company 

51  Madison  Avenue,  New  York  10,  N.  Y. 


which  gives  such  soul-filling  and  lifelong  satisfaction.  I       ne  New  York  Ufe  Agent  in  Your  Community  is  a  Good  Man  to  Knov.- 


ONE  OF  A  SERIES  OF  ADVERTISEMENTS  PRESENTED  TO  HELP  Gl  IDE  AMERICA'S  CHILDREN  TO  A  BETTER  FI  TI  RE 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


What  a  range!  Lights  without  matches.  Split  second  on-off  heat. 
Huge  oven.  Smokeless  broiling.  Easy  cleaning.  Everything. 


Honestly! 

The  oven  alone 
is  worth  the 
price  of  the  new 


automatic  Gas  ranges 


r 


tven  baking,  even  browning.  Pick  your 
temperature  —  it  won't  vary  a  hair's 
breadth  throughout  your  Gas  oven. 
You  can  even  bake  6  cakes  at  once, 
and  they'll  bedone  together— perfectly! 


More  oven  for  your  money.  Want  to 
cook  a  35-lb.  turkey?  There  are  no 
protruding  parts  in  a  Gas  oven.  You 
get  more  height,  more  space,  more 
room,  more  oven.  Yet  Gas  ranges  cost 
less  to  buy,  less  to  install,  less  to  use! 


This  is  a  close-up  of  the  oven  of  the  RCA  ESTATE  "CP"  Gas 
range  shown.  It's  just  one  of  the  many  popular  automatic 
Gas  ranges  at  your  Gas  company  or  Gas  appliance  dealer's. 

gives  you  ni^ore 
oven  for  your  n^oney 

AMERICAN  GAS  ASSOCIATION 


GAS-THE  MODERN   FUEL  FOR  AUTOMATIC  COO  K I N  G  .  .  .  R  EFR IG  ER  ATION      .  W  ATER  ■  H  EATI N  G  .      H  OU  SE- H  E  ATI  N  G    .  .  A I  R -CON  D I TION I N  G  .  .  .  C  LOT  H  ES  DR  Y I NG  ,  .  .  I NC I N  ER  ATIC 


I 


OK,  OK!  I'LL  MAKE  SOME 

DEVILED  HAM  sandwiches 

RIG-HT  AWAY! 


For  SUPER  Sandwiches  always  use 
UNDERWOOD  S.  Try  it  mixed 
half  ond  half  with  cream  cheese. 
Blends  nicely  with  mayonnaise  or 
peanut  butter,  too.  What  flavor! 

HfEl  ?3  briglil,  new,  oaiy  menu  ideal  ond 
V  W,i.e  Wn,.  Underwood  Co,,  12  Wolnu. 
Slreel.  Walerlown  11.  ^as\ 


^  1  w  a  — 

underIwoop 
deviled  ham 


THE  ORIGINAL. ..ALL  FINE  HAM 
ZESTFULLY  SEASONED 

For  Sbyears  America  s  favorite  spread 


U  -ALL-  NO 


eward  your 
taste  with 


CANDIES 


Mint 
Lime 

Lemon  ,  _  ^ 

Wintergreen     I/*  /  —  \ 

Pastel  Mints     /(*  >  *      >  ^  ^ 


THOS.  0.  RICHARDSON  CO.,  Philadelphia  34.  Pa. 


(('iinlinunl  Irmn  I'utr  '1/ 
\«  \ri>4,  by  Mnnit  i'nmi,  irilriiducM 

Viiloria   Anloinetlc  t  .m          I   .  r-  i 

C  iiroliiif  Au«uttla.  u 

I  rum  printi-HH,  IrailiiiK  iL.   i 


\  n  I... 


violets  ;iik1  shadowy  wall/.i's,  who  is  ai 
the  same  liiiK'  shrewd  and  aimisinn  and 
very  much  of  today. 

<;(N>i>  M<)i<M\«;,  YoiiN<;  I-ai»y.  by 
tnlyllt  Ki-niivliy.  tlfscribfs  llir  otlil 
siml  manic  oj  Doriiey  Leaf,  a  l  l-l:'>-Ui- 
year-oltl  girl  of  Utah  a  ncmralion  ano 
Not  since  Tcss  in  The  Constant  Nymph 
have  we  met  such  ualiirahiess.  easy  kind- 
ness and  irresistible  charm  for  all  a^es. 
Both  novels  are  brimming  with  fun, 
romance,  and  far-separated  noslaliiias. 


\N  ••'iM-  :il\tii\N  i  II I  ciosl  <'<l  ill  »>li:il  iii- 
spii'f'.s  II  siiiiiM'l  111*  11  Ajooil  *<lii»rt  sliirx  <ir 
lilt-  KoiiK  I  lull  I'liii^s  In  our  iiii-nifir\  . 
Oik- <lii>  «  lien  />i(7.  Uixlufis  and  llii- 
iiiiK'li-liiiiK-iili'il  l.ttrrnz  lliirl  ucrr 
.sprt'iliii;;  aliiii;:  in  :i  la\i.  llic\  jiisl 
<'a|M-<l  a  li-rrililr  collixion.  "4><i-<li!" 
<'i'ic<l  iIk-  uirl  »liii  \ia.s  >tilli  llifin. 
"My  Ih-arl  SuhxI  Still!"      TIIK  KNI» 


YOU  CAN  BUY  THE  BESI 

John  Keats  wrote  thai  "A  thinii  of 
beauty  is  a  Joy  forever.  Its  loveliness 
increases."  Today,  things  of  beauty 
are  inexpensively  available  for  your 
home,  to  enjoy  and  to  cherish. 

Superb  reproductions  of  some  of  the 
most  beautiful  paint inijs  from  the 
East.  A  bit;  (13"  x  17")  portfolio  col- 
lection, all  ready  for  framing.  Only 
$2.98  postpaid.  Marboro  Books, 
Dept.  M2.  222  Fourth  Avenue,  New 
York  3.  N.Y. 

ItrahtiiH'  Firm  S»mtfhttnti 

Toscanini  has  now  recorded,  with 
the  N.B.C.  Symphony,  a  favorite 
that  is  also,  in  the  words  of  one  critic, 
"marvelous."  LP,  $5,45  at  all  record 
stores.  RCA  Victor. 

Suphnfltm  —  l-'nur  I'lnvn 

The  great  Greek  dramatist  has 
things  to  say  that  still  interest  us 
today.  Here  are  four  of  his  finest 
plays— Electra,  Philoctetes.  Woman 
of  Trachis.  and  Ajax  in  a  new- 
translation  by  E.  V.  Rue.  .At  many 
bookstores,  or  write  to  Penguin 
Books.  3300  Clipper  Mill  Road, 
Baltimore,  Md.  50  cents.  Include  5 
cents  postage. 


Coca-Cola . . . 
the  refreshment 
of  friends 

"Like  people  and  show  it". . . 
tliat's  the  formula  for  making  friends. 
What  better  way  to  show  esteem  for  your  guests 
than  to  offer  fine  food  and  refreshment. 
Serving  delicious  ice-cold  Coca-Cola 
is  hospitality  at  its  best . . . 
thoughtfulness  your  guests  will  remember. 


28 


Pl'BLIC  AFFAIRS  DEPARTMENT 
Etliled  by 

MARGARET  HICKEY 


0  0  0 


In  Seattle,  Washington 


The  Y.W.C.A.  — a  Pioneer  of  Progress 

By  MARGARET  HICKEY 

THE  Young  Women's  Christian  Association  with  its 
multiplicity  of  services  today  is  the  outgrowth  of  an 
idea  born  almost  a  century  ago.  It  originated  from  the 
concern  of  a  few  thoughtful  women  in  England  and  the 
United  States  for  girls  timidlv  trying,  for  the  fust  time,  to 
earn  a  living  outside  theii-  own  homes  and  villages. 

In  Lady  Arthur  Kiiniaird  opened  a  home  in 

London  where  nurses  couhi  iiave  room  and  hoard  helorc 
sailing  in  tiie  wake  of  Florence  Nightingale  for  the  (Cri- 
mean War.  Shortiv  afterward  in  this  country.  Mrs. 
Marshall  0.  Roberts  and  Mrs.  Henry  T.  Durant  started 
boarding  homes  for  factory  girls  in  New  York  and  Boston. 
Though  there  was  at  first  no  direct  connection  between 
these  efforts,  they  had  a  common  purpose — that  of  helping 
voung  women  find  security  in  the  new  life  away  from 
home. 

Today  the  V.\^'.C.A.  program  fils  into  the  lives  of  3,000,- 
000  memlKM-s  in  the  rnite<l  States  and  many  thousands 
more  in  sixty-lour  foreign  countries.  For  ^  .W.C.A.  work  here 
and  abroad,  the  national  board  budget  for  l')ri.'>  is  >;I.6*)0,- 
748.  This  is  exclusive  of  local  budgets  in  this  countrv. 

In  the  United  States,  the  Y. W.C.A.  has  440  metnbcr 
associations,  610  college  and  university  units,  and  21  I 
clubs  in  small  rural  areas.  This  year's  activities  will  be 
carried  out  by  L31,332  women  volunteers  and  2.596  pro- 
fessional workers. 

During  the  past  year,  250,000  transients  were  accom- 
modated with  rooms  in  Y  buildings,  32,000  young 
women  were  given  residence  on  a  permanent  basis,  and 
outside  liou^iTig  was  found  for  60,000  girls.  Over  the  years 
the  Y. W.C.A.  has  broadened  its  program  to  include  man\ 
other  activities.  Teen-agers  can  join  teams  and  plav  games 
in  a  Ygvmnasiimi.  Girls  can  attend  lectures  on  "Marriage 
for  Moderns";  join  choruses  or  little-theater  groups.  Busi- 
ness girls  with  little  money  can  enjoy  inexpensive  holi- 
days in  Y  summer  camps.  Mothers  can  swim  or  attend 
Spanish,  cooking  or  sewing  classes  while  their  small  chil- 
dren are  cared  for  in  the  Y  nursery. 

The  Y. W.C.A.  has  never  been  averse  to  launching  new 
programs  of  an  intimate  personal  nature  to  meet  legitimate 
demands  and  needs  of  young  people.  The  classes  in  child- 
birth training  in  the  ^  .W.C.A.  in  Seattle.  Vt  asliinglon,  are 
described  by  the  Public  Affairs  Department  this  month  be- 
cause of  their  special  appeal  to  young  married  couples. 

Over  the  world,  the  \  .W.C.A.  has  found  still  other  ways 
to  enrich  the  lives  of  people.  In  India,  it  has  the  help  of 
women  like  Sarah  Chakko,  President  of  Isabella  Thoborn 
College  in  Lucknow,  in  introducing  new  customs  while 
maintaining  a  balance  with  the  old.  In  Chile,  it  is  the  agent 
for  the  International  Refugee  Organization.  In  Liberia,  the 
Y's  main  concern  is  to  teach  women  to  read  and  write. 

The  Y. W.C.A.  has  grown  far  beyond  the  modest  goals  its 
early  leaders  saw  for  it.  Ii  will  continue  to  open  windows 
to  a  wider  world  for  women  everywhere.  the  end 


This  newborn  baby  nestles  quietly  in  mother's  arms  as  father, 
who  watched  her  delivery,  looks  proudly  on.  Both  parents  trained 
and  studied  for  nine  months  for  the  experience  of  "natural"  birlh. 


"ELANIE  was  born  last  night  and  I  know  all  about  it.  Now  that 
Uvc  hail  breakfast  but  as  yet  ha^^e  no  baby  in  my  room,  no 
roommate,  or  other  distraction,  Fm  going  to  try  to  describe  the  most 
wonderful  experience  I've  ever  had — childbirth  without  anesthesia. 

"iVIy  husband  was  w  ith  me  in  the  labor  room  and  the  delivery  room, 
as  my  doctor  and  hospital  had  agreed.  John's  being  there,  with  so 
much  love  in  his  eyes,  was  the  biggest  help  I  could  have  had.  He  also 
rubbed  my  back! 

"When  contractions  became  two  minutes  apart,  and  quite  painful, 
I  tried  lying  in  different  positions  and  found  it  best  on  my  right  side, 
facing  away  from  him.  Believe  me,  I  rested  between  contractions  in 
the  late  first  stage;  the  firm  pressure  of  .John's  hand  on  my  lower  back 
helped  a  lot.  I  found  it  better  to  concentrate  on  trying  to  relax  and  let 
my  uterus  do  its  job  than  to  |)ractice  abdominal  breathing  as  I'd  been 
taught.  .lust  knowing  that  I  was  progressing  fast  made  it  easier. 

"Suddeidy  an  extra  hard  contraction  came  and  the  bag  of  w^aters 
broke  with  a  sound  wc  could  hear.  Fluid  spurted.  A  short  time  later, 
there  was  another  strong  contraction.  I  panted,  'Hand!'  .lohn  under- 
stood and  pressed  his  hand  hard  against  the  small  of  my  back.  That 
one  subsided  and  tiie  next  started.  There  seemed  to  be  no  room  left  in 
my  lower  abdomen.  This  was  the  worst  and  one  of  the  most  exciting 
moments  of  the  w  hole  evening.  1  felt  completely  out  of  range  of  my 
own  control.  Nature  took  over;  there  was  a  mighty  upheaval  and  I  felt 
the  babv's  head  pop  down  into  the  birth  canal.  My  hands  were  numb 
and  shaking:  my  breath  came  in  short,  hard  gasps  which  felt  good. 
The  instant  1  could  regain  control  of  my  voice,  I  said,  'Call  nurse.  .  .  . 
Baby!'  I  expected  .bditi  to  go  for  her.  Instead  he  punched  the  light  and 
stayed  there,  holding  his  hands  on  me.  'He  isn't  going  to  leave  me — 

thank  God."  I  thought.  (Cnntiunr,!  on  Fasf  146) 


Dl  PIETRO 


V 


/ 


J 


Wash-Wear  tests  proved  Supercale' 
Stronger,  Longer-Lasting, 
Costs  less  to  launder! 

Almost  a  sin  .  .  .  \\(\\s  pampert'd  you  feel  on 
the  most  caressablc.  skiii-sm(M)thin<:  sheets 
of  all  time!  For  Supercale  Sheets  are  so 
l(i\elv  a  legend  has  grown  up  ahout  them. 
And  now  —  wash-wear  tests  prove  you  ran 
easily  afTord  this  great  luxuryl  Tests  proved 
them  stronger  than  ail  other  Types  tested, 
including  coarse-woven  muslins.  Extra 
thrift  note — results  showed  that  Supercale's 
longer  service  and  lower  laundering  costs 
more  than  pav  vou  back,  over  years  of  extra 
wear,  the  little  hit  more  you  spend  to  buy 
them.  So  be  thrittv  .  .  .  buv  luxur\I 


f  f  'HITS  («■  riLiow  cisrs 


For  pomphlet,  "Sove  with  Supercale," 

write  to:  Waoitut^o  Millj,  New  Bedford,  Mois. 


I  1953  W.  M. 


SHEETS   IN    FROSTY   TONES,   BLOSSOM   TONES,  CANDY   STRIPES   AND   WHITE— THEY'RE   ALL  WONDERFUL   SUPERCALE  QUALITY! 


only  AVON  brings  this  COLOf 


Coral . . .  Nectar. . .  Clear  Red ...  Pink  Cheer. . .  Copper. . . 

shades  as  fresh  and  new  as  spring  in  Avon  Lipsticks  and  Matching  Nail  Polish 


To  complement  your  very  own  coloring,  and  give  spring  and 
summer  costumes  the  just-right  accent  that  makes  you  prettier, 
Avon  brings  you  this  color  enchantment! 

You'll  be  thrilled  by  the  soft,  velvety  texture  of  Avon  Lipsticks 
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flattery  of  Avon's  new  Color-Last  Lipstick.  And  you'll  like  the 
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exactly  matching  shade.  (There  are  twelve  shades  in  all.) 
Like  thousands  of  other  smart  women,  you  will  delight  in  the 


soothing  creams,  softening  lotions  and  the  other  aids  to  good 
grooming  which  Avon  alone  can  bring  to  you  in  your  home. 
The  men  in  your  family  will  like  your  choosing  economy-wise 
Avon  Toiletries  for  them,  too! 

The  Avon  way  of  buying  cosmetics  is  such  a  pleasant,  personal 
one.  You  select  them  in  your  home  from  your  Avon  Repre- 
sentative. The  cosmetics  and  toiletries  correct  for  your  com- 
plexion needs  are  easy  to  choose,  with  her  helpful  guidance, 
from  Avon's  wide  and  wonderful  selection. 

.  .  .  Welcome  her  tvhen  she  calls 


CLEAR  RED         CONGO  RED        BLUE  JEWEL       RIPE  CHERRY        MAGIC  RED         PINK  CHEER  COPPER  PINK  ROSE  NECTAR  PINK  TINGE  CORAL         CRIMSON  BEAUTY 


4AGIC  to  you  in 


your  home 


Your  Avon  Representative  helps  you 
choose  cosmetics  best  suited  to  your  needs 

You'll  find  it  so  easy  and  pleasant  to  shop  the  Avon  way  .  .  . 
right  in  your  own  home.  Your  friendly  Avon  Representative 
helps  you  select  cosmetics  best  for  your  own  skin  needs.  At  the 
same  time,  you  can  choose  fine  quality  Avon  toiletries  for 
your  whole  family. 

To  obtain  diis  service,  simply  call  Western  Union  by  number. 
Ask  for  Operator  25  and  tell  her  you  want  to  see  the  Avon 
Representative.  Or,  where  this  service  is  not  available,  please 
write  directly  to  Avon  at  one  of  the  addresses  below. 


CALL  WESTERN  UNION  OPERATOR 


FOR  YOUR  AVON  REPRESENTATIVE 


cosmetics 


RADIO  CITY.  ISJEW  YORK      PASADEfMA.  CALIFORISII A      MONTREAL  CANADA 


Miss  Dorothy  Cameron,  410  North  Blount,  Raleigh,  North  Carolina,  Women's 
Editor  of  Carolina's  largest  newspaper,  selects  cosmetics  in  her  home  with  the 
help  oj  her  A  VON  Representative,  Mrs.  Edwin  Hester. 


4- 

4 


4 
4 


4 


By  CLIFFORD  R.  ADAMS 

Ph.D.,  Penn&ylvanin  Slate  College,  Department  of  Psychology 


The  young  woman  left  alone  may  hope  to  marry  again. 

What  are  the  special  hazards  for  her? 


Can  Yon  Find  the  Right  IMan  Twice? 


A twenty-nine, 
years,  since  m 
our  two  small 


I've  been  widowed  three 
my  husband  was  killed.  With 
small  children,  I  returned  to  my 
parents,  and  resumed  teaching.  On  my  salary 
and  a  small  insurance  income  I  make  ends  meet 
and  save  a  little. 

"Our  marriage  was  very  happy,  and  I  didn't 
think  of  remarrying  until  I  met  Jim  a  year  ago. 
He  is  a  good-looking  bachelor  my  age,  and  is 
urging  me  to  marry  him.  He  appeals  to  me  more 
than  anyone  else,  but  I'm  not  sure  he's  the 
right  man. 

"I  want  to  remarry,  but  I  don't  want  to  hurt 
my  children  or  parents.  My  father  says  he's 
stingy,  and  mother  hints  he  might  be  hard  to 
live  with. 

"I've  also  been  dating  a  widower  about  forty.  I 
enjoy  his  friendship  and  think  my  parents  would 
approve  my  marrying  him.  He  could  give  me 
security,  but  I  don't  love  him.  What  do  you 
advise?" 

It's  natural  that  a  widow  wants  to  remarry. 
However  deep  her  love  for  her  husband,  she 
found  other  values  in  marriage  too.  Her  whole 
life — the  household  routine,  social  and  civic 
activities,  her  relationship  with  her  children — 
grew  from  the  comfortable  pattern  of  marriage. 
Usually  the  widow  who  remarries  is  seeking  a 
familiar  and  secure  way  of  life,  rather  than 
romantic  love. 

The  widow  whose  first  marriage  was  happy  has 
good  reason  to  hope  for  a  successful  second 
marriage,  provided  she  finds  the  right  partner. 
But  her  situation  creates  special  liazards.  In  her 
anxiety  and  loneliness,  she  may  enter  a  marriage 
which  can  only  mean  suffering.  Feeling  she 
should  have  known  better,  she  will  endure  it, 
though  a  divorced  or  single  woman  would  not. 
Before  accepting  a  man,  she  should  consider  his 
probable  motives. 

Does  he  want  you  to  mother  him?  A  woman  who 
has  proved  her  worth  as  wife  and  homemaker  is 
especially  attractive  to  the  weakling  who  needs  a 
prop.  Such  a  man  demands  his  wife  s  constant 
attention,  often  at  the  expense  of  iier  children. 

Does  he  want  you  to  share  his  self-made  fortune? 
A  selfish  man  who  has  devoted  his  life  to  money 
will  not  change  now.  He  wants  to  display  pros- 
perity, not  share  it.  Many  women  would  not 
tolerate  his  tyranny,  but  a  widow  probably  will. 
He  is  counting  on  her  docility. 

Does  he  want  you  to  compensate  for  his  distorted 
personality?  The  seriously  neurotic  male  is 
moody,  unpredictable  and  vengeful,  though  he 
puts  up  a  good  front.  Needing  stability,  he  often 
prefers  widows,  usually  slightly  older.  His 
friends,  business  record  and  reputation  help 
you  to  learn  what  he  is  really  like. 

Is  he  looking  for  an  easy  life?  Even  modest 
assets  attract  the  fortune  hunter;  your  small 
capital,  or  earning  ability,  may  be  the  prize.  Or 


perhaps  he  hopes  to  profit  by  your  friendship 
and  standing  in  the  community. 

Does  he  want  you  for  companionship?  Compan- 
ionship is  priceless  in  any  marriage.  The  widower 
has  learned  to  appreciate  it,  as  has  the  widow. 
Partly  for  this  reason,  second  marriages  are  most 
successful  when  both  partners  have  been  previ- 
ously widowed. 

Does  he  want  you  because  he  loves  you?  If  he 
proves  his  love — by  concern  for  you,  by  little 
acts  of  thoughtfulness,  by  appreciation  and  re- 
spect— you  have  reason  to  trust  him.  But  mere 
words  are  not  enough.  Because  you  crave  the 
love  you  once  knew,  you  may  be  susceptible  to 
flattery  and  attention.  Don't  mistake  an  imita- 
tion for  the  real  thing. 

Be  guided  by  all  you  have  learned  as  wife  and 
widow.  Some  people  never  achieve  married  hap- 
piness; you  have  already  done  so.  You  can  again, 
if  you  find  the  right  man. 

Don't  Dodfie  Your  Problems 

NEARLY  all  the  tension  and  worries  of  daily 
living  are  self-limiting  and  self-healing. 
Rest  and  relaxation  will  often  wipe  out  minor 
annoyances,  and  remedies  can  be  found  when 


Ask  Yourself:  Am  I  Considerate? 

In  friendsiiip,  love,  or  marriage,  consideration 
brings  out  the  best  in  both  partners.  Answer 
these  questions  frankly  and  honestly,  being  sure 
not  to  give  yourself  the  benefit  of  any  doubt. 


Uo  You 

1.  Often  cotnplimcnl  frien<ls 


II  I  ron  I 
others? 

2.  Telephone  «hen  yon  are  <lelaine<l? 

3.  Diseuss  prtihlems  withoiil  raisiii<:  ><iiir 

voice? 

1.  Defend  your  friends  against  criticism? 
.5.  Let  others  talk  without  interruption? 

6.  Rememl)er  birthdays  and  other  special 

events? 

7.  Show  your  appreciation  for  little  fa- 

vors? 

Ire  1  <»i( 

K.  Generous  in  lending;  your  possessions? 
9.  L  sually  in  g«>od  humor? 

10.  Often  confided  in  by  your  friends? 

11.  Gracious  about  admittinjs:  your  mis- 

takes? 

12.  Ilelpfid  when  friends  are  in  trouble? 
IS.  Tolerant  of  others'  shortcomings? 

I  t.  As  courteous   to  close  friends  as  to 
strangers? 

The  correct  answer  to  every  question  is  yes. 
Most  genuinely  considerate  persons  earn  a  score 
of  at  least  eleven.  As  a  further  check,  change 
"friends"  to  sweetheart  (or  husband)  and  see  how- 
considerate  you  are  of  him.  Your  wrong  answers 
can  guide  you  in  becoming  more  thoughtful  and 
understanding. 


the  situation  is  looked  at  objectively.  But  many 
times  the  response  to  problems  is  irrational 
panic.  If  a  person  magnifies  the  difficulty  and 
misinterprets  its  nature,  a  trivial  mischance  be- 
comes a  mountainous  burden.  If  she  ignores  it 
and  denies  its  existence,  it  must  either  solve 
itself,  or  become  progressively  worse.  Both  are 
defeating  attitudes. 

A  few  days  ago  a  bride  of  three  weeks  came  to 
us  in  tears.  At  a  party,  her  husband  had  danced 
several  times  with  the  same  girl.  When  he  later 
remarked  that  she  was  charming  and  a  wonderful 
dancer,  his  bride  saw  a  vision  of  a  triangle,  mis- 
ery and  divorce.  Hurt  feelings  had  made  a 
mountain  from  a  very  small  molehill. 

Another  wife  was  the  picture  of  despair  and 
defeat.  Having  learned  of  her  husband's  infidel- 
ity, she  had  given  no  thought  to  the  reasons,  or 
to  the  possibility  of  salvaging  the  situation.  Her 
only  reaction  was  a  numb  acceptance  of  failure, 
her  only  question  wliether  to  initiate  divorce,  or 
to  wait  for  him  to  ask  for  one. 

Few  of  a  counselor's  clients  approach  prob- 
lems positively.  The  reason  is  that  lielp  is  seldom 
needed  so  long  as  the  wife  (or  husband)  can 
solve  them  through  her  (or  his)  own  efforts,  or 
make  a  suitable  adjustment  to  them. 

But  through  research,  the  counselor  knows 
that  happy  marriages  as  well  as  unhappy  mar- 
riages are  afflicted  by  periods  of  tension  and  worry. 
The  essential  point  is  that  the  happy  wife  learned 
to  face  problems  and  resolve  them.  How  does 
she  go  about  it? 

•  When  a  problem  arises,  she  neither  ignores 
nor  exaggerates  it.  Instead,  she  analyzes  it,  and 
tries  to  see  it  in  perspective. 

•  She  distinguishes  between  difficulties  which 
are  temporary,  and  those  which  will  continue 
until  the  situation  is  altered.  She  minimizes  the 
former,  goes  to  work  to  correct  the  latter. 

•  If  the  situation  cannot  be  changed  (and  some 
cannot)  siie  accepts  the  facts  as  they  are,  and 
helps  her  husband  to  do  so.  Our  altitude  toward 
circumstances  affects  our  happiness  far  more 
than  do  circumstances  themselves. 

Solve  your  problems  if  you  can.  If  you  can't, 
then  relieve  them  in  every  way  possible.  Small 
pleasures  can  help  you  to  surmount  major  dis- 
appointment. Don't  let  what  you  have  not  spoil 
your  enjoyment  of  what  you  have.  Look  forward 
to  tomorrow,  not  as  a  continuation  of  your 
problems,  but  as  a  fresh  chance  to  solve  them. 

Do  Yon  .4gree? 

About  how  inaity  widows  and  ividowers 
have  no  dependent  children? 

Some  four  million  widows  and  two  million 
widowers.  Nearly  one  third  of  all  the  widowed 
have  children. 


I.   /%    1 1    I  I 


II     'I     M     I         i     II    I      II     N     \  I 


MRS.  R.  STUYVE5ANT  PIERREPONT,  JR.  CHOOSES  REEO  ft  B  ARTON '  S  '  POI  NT  ED  ANTIQUE"    STERLING  TEA  SERVICE     FIVE  I 


WHY  I  PICKED  REED  8c  BARTON  STERLLXG 

"Rccd  &  Barton  have  been  makino  sterlino  for  our  family  since  President  Monroe  was  at  the 
White  I  louse,  writes  Mrs.  Pierrepont,  talented  \ew  York  decorator.  "These  great  i\ew  England 
siK  crmasters  are  in  a  class  by  themselves.  You  can  be  certain  that  the  Reed  &  Barton  pattern  you 
select  will  always  be  available.  /\nd,  because  it  is  absolutely  authentic,  it  w  ill  never  go  out  of  style." 


Classic  Fashion 
37.50 


Francis  I 
36.00 


French  Renaissance 
ii.75 


Georgian  Rose 
2S.75 


Dancing  Flowers         Floreniine  L.ice 
28.75  ?S.50 


Silver  .Wheat 
29.50 


Burciindy 
33.75 


Pointed  .\ntique 
29.75 


AH  prices  quoted  are  tor  six-piece  place  setting  witich  incliuies:  luncheon  knife  and  fork,  salad  iork,  cream  soup  spoon,  teaspoon  and  butter  spreader.  (Prices  include  Federal  tax.) 


Itt'ar  HuHiv. 

I'm  sorry  I  lost  my  temper  last  night.  "Onlv  a 
half  hour  late,"  you  said  and  blithely  told  me  that 
Tom'd  put  three  nickels  in  the  juke  box  and  you 
simply  had  to  wait  for  his  records  to  come  up. 
Maybe  it  was  "morbid"  of  me  (as  you  put  it)  to 
imagine  you  in  a  hospital — but  I  do  every  time 
you're  out  in  his  car  and  come  in  late.  Even  when 
you're  not  in  Tom's  Joy  Wagon,  I  worry  about  you 
and  the  hours  you're  keeping.  \ou"re  so  active  in 
school,  and  you  just  got  over  the  flu,  and  you're 
underweight.  And  when  I  was  dating,  "nice"  girls 
just  didn't  go  out  so  often  or  stay  out  much  later 
than  10,  and  I  guess  I'm  more  old-fashioned 
than  I  thought  I'd  be  about  my  daughter! 

You  also  told  me  last  night — for  the  thousandth 
time,  I  might  add — that  you  were  tired  of  being 
treated  like  a  baby.  I  don't  think  I  treat  you  like  a 
baby.  I  try  not  to,  but — I  can't  resist  this  dig — 
sometimes  you  do  act  like  one.  When  you  were  a 
baby,  you  used  to  hate  to  put  your  toys  away:  now 
you  leave  your  nail  polish  and  brush  and  comb  in 
an  untidy  little  ring  on  the  rug  in  front  of  the 
television  set.  And  as  I  can't  avoid  stumbling  over 
them  when  I  sweep;  and  as  I  can't  avoid  sweeping 
(somehow  your  father  seems  to  want  a  reasonably 
clean  home),  I  also  can't  avoid  returning  your 
things  to  your  own  room.  Can  you  honestly  call 
this  "snooping  in  your  room  "?  (I  believe  that's 
the  expression  you  used  when  you  were  listing  all 
your  grievances.) 

I  know  you  feel  it's  my  job  to  keep  the  house, 
not  yours.  (Your  job  is  to  go  to  school.)  I  know 
you  resent  being  asked  to  do  "housework."  Inci- 
dentally, I  wonder  how  Tom  would  like  the  face  I 
see  when  I  ask  you  to  give  me  a  hand  with  the 
laundry  or  the  marketing.  Anyway,  it's  actually 


Pit  Sui-Oir 


much  easier  for  me  to  do  some  of  those  chores  my- 
self, but  I  want  \  ou  t(i  be  able  to  manage  your  own 
home  somedav.  elfortlessly.  I  don't  want  vou  to 
criticize  me—  as  I  criticized  my  mother  for  not  in- 
sisting tliat  /  master  the  skills  of  homemaking. 
(The  truth  is.  Sue.  I  don't  like  criticism  Irom  vou, 
my  mother,  the  ciiild-guidance  experts,  or  the 
neighbors  any  better  than  you  do.)  Let's  try  to  get 
the  best  of  our  petty  irritations  by  having  more 
respect  for  each  other's  feelings.  After  all,  your 
happiness  is  my  happiness,  and  I  hope  mv  liappi- 
ness  is  yours  too.  Believe  me,  your  nagging  old 
mother  was  touched  to  tears  with  your  Mother's 
Day  card — "To  the  dearest  of  mothers" — because 
she  honestly  believes  she  has  the  dearest  of 
daughters.  Love, 

I  hope  I  never  see  you  and  vour  mother  quarrel- 
ing that  wav  again.  Your  mother  was  worried;  I  was 
worried  and  angry  too.  My  first  thought  was  that  I 
never  wanted  to  see  that  boy  around  here  again. 
Then  I  realized  you  were  telling  the  truth.  I  know  it 
sounds  corny  to  say  "I  was  a  boy  mvself  once  and 
I  know  what  they  can  be  up  to"  but,  Hon,  I  was 
and  that's  why  I  jump  on  your  boy  friends  when 
they  don't  get  you  home  on  time.  I  sometimes  sus- 
pect, though,  vou're  as  much  to  blame  as  they  are. 

You  used  to  respect  my  judgment.  Do  you  re- 
member that  discussion  we  had  on  capital  punish- 
ment? It  was  just  six  months  ago.  Now  you  ask 
Tom's  advice  on  everything  and  I  get  only  yes  and 
no  answers,  more  often  no  than  yes  at  that!  It's 
only  natural,  I  suppose,  and  to  be  expected,  but 
it's  still  a  bit  of  a  blow  to  this  male  ego.  Still  I'll 
be  the  happiest  guv  in  the  world  on  your  wedding 


day.  if  he's  an  all-right  man,  one  that'll  make  you 
happy  and  take  good  care  of  you.  I  know  you're 
not  especially  interested  in  finding  out  why  I 
think  Tom  isn't  half  the  boy  that  Roger  is.  You've 
decided  it's  because  Roger's  father  works  in  the 
plant,  but  that's  only  half  the  story.  Roger  is  am- 
bitious, wants  to  go  on  to  med  school,  is  interested 
in  more  than  just  playing  basketball.  When  you're 
my  age — sorry,  that  just  slipped  out  —  you'll 
realize,  as  I  do,  that  the  people  you  associate  with, 
their  character,  education,  standards,  influence 
your  own  place,  happy  or  otherwise,  in  this  world. 
That's  why  I'm  so  eager  for  you  to  choose  your 
friends  wisely.  But  that's  another  sermon. 

One  night,  when  you  were  very,  very  young, 
you  came  to  me  in  tears  and  begged  me  to  fix  the 
moon  because  it  was  broken.  These  days  you  don't 
ask  me  for  any  help — except  financially!  Even  if  I 
complain  about  the  way  you  can't  seem  to  live 
without  cashmere  sweaters,  I've  always  got  a  big  kick 
out  of  giving  you  the  things  you  want.  And  in  re- 
turn for  all  the  cool  cash  and  concern  I've  lavished 
on  you,  I've  never  wanted  anything  in  return  ex- 
cept your  health  and  happiness.  Of  course  I  never 
object  to  a  good  night's  sleep,  which  I  don't  get 
when  you're  out  late,  and  which  I  missed  when  you 
were  teething,  whooping,  measleing,  and  so  on! 

But  seriously.  Sue,  this  bickering  with  your 
mother  has  got  to  come  to  an  end.  The  first  thing 
we  nuist  do  this  week  end  is  to  bring  these  matters 
into  the  open.  I'm  impressed  by  your  grasp  of  the 
world  situation  and  I  think  that  ability  ought  to 
carry  over  into  our  domestic  one  too.  How  about 
it,  Susie-bug?  It'd  make  me  so  proud  of  my  "girls." 

Love, 


\ 


TANA  HOBAN 


Xeartii  all  parents  and  tvon-uaora 
M»aQre«  at  time».  Thent'  limt'H  ran 
he  fewer  it  the  teen-aiter: 

1.  Brings  her  friends  home  to  meet  the 
family;  telephones  if  she^s  going  to  be 


late;  asks  dad  to  call  for  her  if  she's  and  dad  should  suggest  compromises 

uncertain  about  the  driving  ability  of  on  time  for  sleep,  dates,  homework  and 

her  escort;  makes  dates  with  family  too.  housework;  money  for  clothing  and 

2.  Operates  on  time  and  money  budgets  school  supplies.  3.  Encourages  her  par- 

u-hich  consider  the  over-all  needs  of  the  ents  to  become  more  active  in  school  and 

entire familv.  Explanations  from  mother  community  projects;  to  read  new  books; 


to  entertain  their  friends;  to  develop  the 
interests  they  put  aside  ivhen  the  children 
were  younger.  4.  Remembers  that  all 
human  beings  make  mistakes;  that 
parents  try  to  act  in  the  best  interest 
of  their  children;  that  love  conquers  all. 


] 


J)CWUc/uft(r 

Di  lioriih  Ki  rr  \n  im  liuiiliiii  ni  ii.rif, 
wilh  lii  r  wiili'  violi  l  i  y.  H  .  .  .  |i,  r 
iiiiliiirii  liitir  lliiit',.  1,  ,„.rf,.,  I  fniiiir  for 
tlir  ix  iirl-likr  nidiunrt-  o|  ||,  r  nkiii! 


0  8nioolh(M'  skin 


1 ')') 

:\7 1 


18  easy  i 


says  Deborah  Iierr 


It's  a  iM'aiily  care  that  rrally  works 
— daily  Lux  S<»a|>  Facials.  And  voi/ 
can  ix'  siir«'  this  <!;ciitl<-  l.iix  care 
can  briiitf  lovelier  skin — /«  you. 


'Isn't  she  beautiful!"  you  say  ...  as  your 
eyes  linger  on  the  enticinii  s|)arkle,  tlie 
dewy  young  look  of  Dehorah  Kerr's 
skin.  Can  your  complexion  have  this 
loveliness?  Just  listen  to  Deborah's  ad- 
vice. "It's  simple  to  have  lovelier  shin  uilh 
my  beauty  care.'' 

Yes,  daily  Lux  Soap  Facials  will  give 
your  skin  smoothef,'  fresher  beauty — 
and  do  it  so  quicUy  that  just  one  cake 
will  make  a  lovely  diflerence.  Lux  care 
has  a  gentle,  toning  action  that  stimulates 
and  wakes  new  soilness  .  .  .  brings  the 
dewy  fresh  look  men  find  irresistible ! 

Try  these  simple  Lux  Soap  Facials. 
Begin  this  very  day.  You'll  see  .  .  .  the 
Lux-lovely  look  of  Hollywood's  glamor- 
ous stars  can  belong  to  you! 


DEBORAH  KERR  co-starring  in  Metro-GoWwyn-Mayers  '  .11  IMS  C.\ES.\R" 


Deborah's  a  gifted  painter  .  .  .  and 

an  artist,  too,  at  looking  radiantly  fresh. 
She  savs,  "S|i;irklin;;  skin  is  casx  to  win." 
Alter  vour  hrst  l,u\  I'.n  i.il,  mmi'U  ai;ri  i-. 


Flo««-r  arran{i!inj£ — another  liohhy, 
as  feminine  as  Deborah  herself!  "Soft 
skin,"  she  tells  you,  "cives  a  girl  the  fem- 
inine look  men  liki  !  "  1  r\  Iht  Lux  care. 


"My  heauty  eare  is  so  easy — makes 
niv  skin  look  so  soft."  You  cream  in 
rich  Lux  lather,  rinse  warm,  splash 
cold.  \our  skin  sparkles! 


9  out  of  10  sereen  stars  use  Lux!  This  gentle  beauty 
care  is  guaranteed  by  Lever  Brothers  Company  to  im- 
prove any  normal  skin — or  your  nionev  r-  fDn  lfd.  For 
all-over  loveliness,  enjoy  Lux  Beauty  B..: 


^"^^^"-y  r^)^/^e  b^c^^e 

T 


his  is  the  way  we  wax  our  floor 
Clean  our  floor,  shine  our  floor 
Chamois  and  shine  glass  . .  .  but  before 
Starting,  first  shop  Woolwoi'th's 


Aerowax  No  Rubbing 
Floor  Wax  is  the  fast, 
easy  way  to  wax.  Just 
apply  and  let  dry!  Shines 
itself ...  protects  and 
beautifies. ..dries  to  a 
luster  in  15  minutes!  For 
wood  floors . . .  linoleum 
...rubber,  asphalt,  or 
cork  tile . . .  terrazzo  com- 
position.  Non-inflam- 
mable. Pint  cans,  37c 


Dru-Tan  Chamois  Skin 
gives  lint-free  luster  to 
your  furniture,  windows, 
automobiles,  silver,  pew- 
ter, glassware,  jewelry. 
Won't  scratch  even  the 
most  delicate  surfaces.  It  is 
incredibly  soft  yet  amaz- 
ingly durable  because  it's 
leather.  Washable— you 
can  use  it  over  and  over 
again!  10"  x  13",  49c 


Aeromist  Glass  Cleaner. 
Just  spray  or  wipe  it  on . . . 
then  wipe  it  off!  Leaves 
your  windows,  mirrors, 
glass-tops  clear  as  crystal 
. . .  greaseless . . .  streakless. 
Aeromist  is  wonderful  for 
TV  glas".,  eyeglasses,  wind- 
shields, glass  shower 
doors,  too!  15c,  29c 
Special  plastic  Aeromist 
Sprayer,  15c 


Carbona  Soapless  Lather 

makes  a  thick  foam  which 
quickly,  safely  cleans  rugs, 
upholstery,  auto  seat 
covers,  clothing  — without 
leaving  soap  scum!  Works 
in  hard  or  soft  water,  hot 
or  cold.  Unbumable  and 
non-explosive.  25c.  Use 
Carbona  Cleaning  Fluirt  for 
stains  that  are  extremely 
stubborn.  15c,  29c 


H 


ere's  how  we  all  de-moth  our  clothes 
Blankets,  hose  . .  .  Winter  clothes 
Storage  'em  all . . .  'cause  goodness  kn 
Moth-proof's  cheap  at  Woolworth' 


Fruit  of  the  Loom  Garment 

Bags  help  keep  clothes  free 
of  dust,  dirt,  moths.  Sturdy, 
translucent  vinyl 
plastic  with  con- 
trasting plastic- 
plaid.  Wire- 
frame top,  side 
zipper.  Full  length... can 
hold  outercoats,  dresses. 


8 -garment  bag, 
16-garment  bag, 


2.29 
2.49 


Koppers  Moth  Octons, 

with  8-sided  surface  and 
hole  through  the  center, 
have  extra  vaporizing 
(moth-killing)  area.  Use 
the  hole  to  hang  Octons 
on  string  or  hangers,  and 
suspend  in  closets.  8- 
sided  shape  helps  to 
prevent  rolling  between 
layers  of  clothing  or 
blankets.  20  oz.,  49c* 


R 


ugs  and  upholstery  look  like  new 
Yes,  they  do  .  .  .  just  like  new 
Sponge  away  stains  .  . .  leave  colors  t: 
With  cleaners  bought  at  Woolwort 


Clopay 


Oopay  Window  Shades.  So  much  use  for  so 
little  cost!  Tan,  white,  ivory,  green.  Com- 
plete with  springy  roller.  36"  x  6'. 
(A)  Washable  shade  resists  fraying,  tearing, 
"pinholing."  Attractive  embossed  pattern 
with  soft,  powdery  appearance.  89c  (B)  One 
of  America's  finest  textured  window  shades! 
Plastic  resembles  pique.  Wipes  clean  with 
damp  cloth.  Fadeproof.  1.39* 


*Price  slightly  higher  in  w| 


Ws  P/ay 


/ 


s 


pruce  up  your  rooms  with  shade  or  blind 
livery  kind  you've  in  mind 
Drapes,  rods  and  ruffles,  too,  you'll  fmd 
At  save-you-plenty  Woolworth's 


itchens  can  be  so  neat  and  bright 
Cheerful  sight  .  .  .  day  or  night 
Covers  and  liners  make  them  right 
As  you  can  see  at  Woolworth's 


Ivalon  Vinyl  i'latllc 
SpoftKC.  (icnile  enough 
for  hahy  hath,  (oii|{h 
rniMjgh  fur  wiiiirmg 
Softer,  more  durable, 
more  abtorheiil  than 
'irilinary  tpongct  Blue, 
'.rilow,  pink  or  green, 
III  plailic  bag  3Vc. 
Ihrift  attortnicnl  of 
smaller  «pongct  in 
handy  plaitic  bag,  39c 


C  uriain  Rod  with  Nail-leai 
Hrackclv  I'rons'ihold  brack- 
ets in  plate!  No  nails,  no  screws,  no  smashed 
lingers!  C  urtain  rod  clips  onto  the  brackets. 
While  finished  rod  extends  from  28"  to  4K". 
Manufactured  by  Newell  Manufacturing  Co. 
Rod  and  two  nail-less  brackets.  15c 


Fruit  of  the  l>ooin  Covers 
keep  mixers,  bowls, 
utensils  cleaner. ..  food 
fresher.  Gaily  decorated 
plastics,  easy  to  use  (just 
slip  on),  easy  to  clean 
(just  wipe  ofT).  3- 
or  5-picce  bowl 
cover    sets,  or 
toaster  cover,  39c. 
Mixer  cover,  49c. 
7-pc.  bowl  cover  set,  59c 


Home-Cote  Quick  Dry 
Rnamel.  Brush  marks 
flow  out!  Perfect  for  in- 
terior furniture,  wood- 
work, metal,  brick,  glass. 
For  kitchen,  bathroom 
walls,  too— high,  hard 
gloss  cleans  easily,  and 
repels  moisture.  For 
exteriors,  Home-Cote 
Household  Paint.  Paint  or 
Enamel,  I9c,  39c,  79c 


CblOVin 


Col-O-Vin  Plastic  Up- 
holstery. Make  chairs, 
headboards,  table  tops 
look  — and  stay  — like 
new!  Cuts  and  tacks  on 
easily,  resists  scuffing. 
Stains  wash  off!  In  Sad- 
dle (looks  like  leather) 
or  Pearl  (looks  like 
mother  of  pearl). 
Choice  of  rich  colors. 
36"  width.  Yard.  $1 


Clopay  Wea»-Tex  Urapct.  f-xciting 
news  in  pl.istic  drapes'  Textured  like 
expensive  fabrics,  wrinklc  frce,  without  "plat- 
tic  shine"!  Complete  set  (27"  x  90"  paneU, 
11"  X  27"  valance,  rod  pockcti  already  on). 

(A)  Dainty,  charming  Romance  pattern  1.98 

(B)  Dramatic,  Exoiic  7  rce  pattern  1.59* 


Universal  Ba.«ket  IJner. 

Makes  even  oldest 
bushel  basket  a  non- 
soil,  non-snag  clothes 
basket!  Keeps  damp 
clothes  right  for  iron- 
ing. Keeps  fruits,  veg- 
etables free  of  "basket 
bruises."  Sturdy  oil- 
cloth with  red,  green, 
blue  or  yellow  straw- 
berries, 79c 


Star  Pure  Bristle  Brushes  for  varnish,  enamel, 
paint.  Smooth,  easy-stroking  bristles  that  have 
been  vulcanized  in  handle  for  stay-put  dura- 
bility. Handles  are  smooth,  balanced,  easy  on 
fingers.  And  look  at  Woolworth's  low  prices! 
'/2"  brush,  15c.  1",  19c.  V/i" ,  29c 


TRIM,  INC. 

I*re-pleated  Trim.  Dress 
up  your  windows, 
shelves,  mirrors,  make- 
up tables  with  lovely 
ruffles!  They're  plastic- 
easy  to  tack  on,  easy  to 
keep  clean.  Washable, 
durable,  fade-resistant. 
Solids,  plaids,  polka 
dots,  gingham  checks 
by  Rim  Trim.  XVi", 
15c  yard.  5",  25c  yard. 


T 


ouch-up  the  porch,  shellac  the  floor 
Paint  the  door  .  . .  it's  no  chore 
Do  it  yourself !  And  save  still  more 
Get  brushes,  paints  at  Woolworth's 


%4 


Really!  Spring  Cleaning's  a  spring  breeze 
.  .  .  when  you  do  it  the  Woolworth  way. 
Here's  why  :  Woolworth's  shows  you  a  vast 
selection  of  tried -and -true,  sure -acting, 
energy-saving  equipment.  Woolworth's 
shows  you  everything  in  one  place  —  to  save 
you  time  and  steps.  And  Woolworth's  prices 
everything  for  value  ,  .  .  you  don't  have 
to  skimp  on  the  things  that  make  Spring 
Cleaning  faster  and  easier.  So  . . . 


Here's  how  you  start  to  clean  for  Spring: 
Shop  Woolworth's  first  for  everything! 


L    A    1)     I     K  II     U     IVl     K,        J     ^)     V     K     !\    A    L  May  Ji 

AMAZING 

COFFEE  DISCOVERY! 


Not  a  powder!  Not  a  grind!  But  millions  of  tiny 
FLAVOR  BUDS '  of  real  coffee  •  • .  ready  to  burst  instantly 
into  that  famous  MAXWELL  HOUSE  FLAVOR! 


Utterly  unlike  old-style  "instants"  .  .  . 
just  as  quick  but  tastes  so  different! 

In  the  famous  Maxwell  House  kitchens 
this  superb,  roaster-fresh  coffee  is  actually 
^f'^  brewed  for  you.  At  the  exact  moment  of 

perfection  the  water  is  removed  by  a  special  Maxwell  House 
process — leaving  the  millions  of  miracle  "Flavor  Buds"! 

100%  Pure  Coffee— No  Fillers  Added! 

Just  add  hot  water  .  .  .  and  the  bursting  "Flavor  Buds"  flood 
your  cup  with  coffee  as  delicious  as  the  best  you've  ever 
brewed.  One  sip  and  you'll  never  go  back  to  old  ways!  ■ 

Saves  you  money,  too !  The  large  economy-size  jar  saves  up  to 
75 p,  compared  to  three  pounds  of  ground  coffee! 


See  flow  f/ie  Flavor  Buds  ''come  to  life"  in  your  cup  / 


MAGNIFIED  VIEW  of  new  miracle 
"Flavor  Buds"  shows  how  ut- 
terly different  they  are  from  old- 
style  powders  and  grinds. 


THE  INSTANT  you  add  hot 

water,  the  "Flavor  Buds" 
burst — releasing  flood  of  rich, 
delicious  Maxwell  Hoiise  flavor! 


The  only  instant  cofFee  with  that  GOOP-TO-THE-L AST-PROP  flavor! 


MilUM'A)  III  Hollywood  Iroiii  New 
■^'ork  ;il  the  s;iiiu'  lime  (larlx)  arrived 

Hollywood  Iroin  Sweden.  I  met  her  al 
II'  Heverly  Hills  home  oT  jolin  Kohert- 
We  were  introduced  and  to(;elher 
rolled  upstairs  to  leave  our  coats. 

(larbo's  deep-freeze  voice  fascinated 
ic,  her  beauty  awed  me.  How  lovely 
le  was,  how  sophisticated,  how  awk- 
ard  yet  beautiful.  She  slid  from  her 
)at  like  a  sleepy  ti.uer  stretchint;  in  the 
);)nday  sun.  She  was  dressed  in  a  lonn 
lealh  of  black,  contrasting;  strikingly 
ith  her  chalk-white  beauty. 

."Xs  I  powdered  my  nose  I  noticed 
arho  taking  off  her  shoes.  Did  her 
et  hurt?  I  inquired.  "Oh,  no,"  laughed 
lis  languid  lady  from  Sweden.  "I 
!ver  wear  shoes  in  Uie  house,"  and 
arted  downstairs.  At  the  fool  of  the 
airs  Jack  Gilbert  was  waiting  for  her. 
e  was  terribly  in  love  with  her.  We 


s()in-<:i{i:\M  SM  CE 

I'OK  S  I  l{  VW  ItCKIUKS 
I'lit  I  r(i|>  thick  I'oiiiiiK-rcial  sour 
eaiii,  I  loaspooii  <;ral)Ml  Iciikiii  rind,  I 
aspooii  Iciiioii  juice  and  '  j  cu|>  pow- 
TCil  sufjar  Ixficllicr  auil  heal  c-x>i 
■alcr  until  ii^hl.  I'lacc  in  a  l><>\>  I  in  tlic 
liter  of  a  plallcr.  Snrrouml  willi  <|uar- 
red  aii<l  sweetened  slrau  lierrics  and 
rve  very  cold.  I— ^)  serv  inj;s. 


This  is  delicious,  although  normally 
am  antisquash: 

LOI  ISIANA  SQUASH 
Vi  asli  I  small  ^ello^\  sijnasli,  ahoiit  }-4 
)und  each.  (!ut  in  halves  lcii{illi« ise; 
oop  out  seeds.  Sprinkle  1  teaspoon  salt 
'er  eiit  surfaces.  I'lace  squash,  cut  sur- 
ecs  down,  on  a  shallow  roastin<;  pan. 
ake  in  a  moderate  oven,  ^S0°  I''.,  for 
I  minutes.  Meanwhile,  mix  'j4  <""!' 
larse  cracker  crumbs  and  ^  cup 
lopped  (not  too  fine)  pecans  with  '  j 
ip  melted  butter  or  mar>;arine.  Turn 
uasli  cut  side  up.  I'  ill  centers  with  nut 
ling.  Bake  10  minutes  more.  8  serv- 
gs- 

The  House  of  Lee  is  situated  high 
)ove  the  Pacific  Ocean,  atop  the  Pa- 
[ic  Palisades,  in  Santa  Monica,  and 
lecializes  in  moonlight  nights,  soft  Pa- 
(ic  breezes  and  Chinese  spareribs. 
hese  are  really  worth  trying,  and  espe- 
ally  pleasing  to  men : 

CIIINKSE  SPARERIBS 
Marinate  1  side  of  spareribs  split 
n<;thwise  (about  2  pounds)  in  I  five- 
inee  bottle  sov  sauce  overni';hl.  Drain, 
ext  day  sprinkle  with  enoufrh  l>rowii 

Copyright.  19.S.t.  by  Coriniie  tiritlith.  t'oriiniL' 
iffith's  Cookbook  is  from  her  fortiicoiiiiiig  hnok. 
tgs  I  H;ivi'  Known. 


"H  ht-rvvvr  tii-  Iniirh-tl,  I  tmlln-rrtl 

ri'ri/irs.'"  Svrniiil  in  it  nvrirs  nj 
In-r  nniinl-llir-iiniltl  /Vdori/r.t, 


made  our  entrance  into  the  drawini: 
r(X)m. 

The  KolHTtsoii  bulfel  displayed  inatiy 
interesting  fcxxls,  but  I  followed  ( larlx) 
right  akmg.  When  she  chose  jxilatoes 
instead  of  meat,  I  chose  jxitatoes  in- 
stead of  meat.  "Never  eat  meal  and 
jxitatoes  at  the  same  time.  It  g(K's  to 
your  hips,"  she  explained.  "Besides, 
ixitaloes  are  so  much  better  than  meat, 
especially  Swedish  potatoes,"  and  she 
went  on  to  tell  me  how  she  prepared 
them  boiled,  then  baked  with  sour 
cream.  But  I  scarcely  ate  potatoes  or 
anything  else  that  night.  1  felt  so  self- 
conscious  in  my  silly  high  heels,  while 
unshod  Garbo  sat  there  with  .jack  CJil- 
bert  adoring  her  and  just  ate  and  ate. 

I  don't  know  how  many  would  favor 
sour  cream  over  iX)tatoes.  But  I  find 
that  with  strawberries  it  has  universal 
appeal.  See  if  you  don't  agree! 


sugar  to  cover  liglitiv,  about  ' -j  cup. 
(^rate  I  iiiediuin  onion  and  sprinkleover 
sugar.  ( '.ON  er  with  I  No,  2  can  crushed 
pineapple,  drained.  Bake  in  covered 
casserole  in  hot  oven,  l(M(  I'",,  for  an 
hour  and  \r>  iiuniiles  or  until  tender. 
(!ul  the  spareribs  into  linj;er  pieces, 
separating  each  rib.  "Malaliimis  and 
Kamaines.  vour  lieallli!" 


In  a  tiny  little  bistro  on  the  edge  of 
Rambouillet,  summer  residence  of  the 
president  of  France,  we  first  experienced 
Pot-au-Feu  (pot  on  the  lirei  Ram- 
bouillet. 

PO  r-  A  l  -  E 1 : 1    K  A IM  BO  I  1 1 . 1 .  ET 

Put  the  following  in  a  large  pot:  I 
bam  bone,  I  \  eal  knui'kle  or  lamb  bone. 
'2  <'np  dried  l>aby  Lima  beans,  2  table- 
spoons dried  navv  beans,  2  tablesp<K)ns 
finely  chopped  parslev,  I  inediiim  onion, 
chopped  line.  '  2  cup  dried  split  peas,  2 
tablespoons  unc<M)ke<l  rice,  3  ipiarts  wa- 
ter, I  euptiiielv  I'liopped  celery,  I  cup  to- 
mato puree,  and  I  tablespoon  salt.  Sim- 
mer for  3  to  3' 2  hours.  Remove  liones 
and  cut  the  meat  from  them  into  pieces 
and  ad<l  to  soup.  Skim  off  anv  fat.  Serve 
in  large  tureen.  \dd  a  lew  chopped  green 
onions  to  each  serving  plate.  With  this 
pot-au-feu  serve  hot  and  crustv  liread, 
a  green  salati  with  French  dressing,  and 
eliee.se.  This  is  the  perfect  meal. 


Editors'  Note:  Corinne  Griffith,  the 
motion-picture  star  who  is  now  Mrs. 
George  Marshall,  of  Washington,  D.C., 
wife  of  the  owner  of  the  Washington 
Redskins  football  teain,  has  collected 
recipes  in  many  countries— from  famous 
hosts  and  hostesses  and  from  obscure 
(but  superb)  cooks.  The  recipes  here  are 
from  her  collection  soon  to  be  published 
as  a  book  by  Houghton-Mifflin. 


Cook  right  at  the  table 


FOR  A  TWOSOME  OR  A  PARTY! 


CioMcn-erisp  waffles— succulent  steaks  or  chops — 
toasted  sandwiches — sizzling  bacon  and  ef^ — there's 
a  thrill  in  fixing  them  right  at  the  tablp  on  your  Arvin 
Leclric  Cook,  most  versatile  of  ail  cooking  appliances ! 
Open  as  a  double  griddle,  its  cooking  area  equals 
3  ten-inch  skillets!  Omverts  in  a  wink  to  a  fully 
automatic  waffler  with  signal  light  and  heat  control. 
A  [)erfect  gift!  Complete  with  waffle  grifls.  $29.95. 


Sandwich 
Toaster 


Arvin  Industries,  Inc, 
Coluiiilms,  Indiana 


Automatic  Uajjlcr 


Double  Griddle 


L   A   D    I    K    S  ■       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  J5 


IT'S  A  FESTIVAL  , . .  gay,  inviting, 
satisfying  when  you  enjoy  luscious-ripe 
berries  with  cereal  and  plenty  of  fresh 
milk  or  cream. 


Here  aie  a  few  of  tliQ 
wondeiful  wa^s  j/^ou'U  enjoj  milk 
Serve  it  often -your  family  will 


get  more  out  of  life  if  jou 
make  every 


MILK  FESTIVAL 

berry  Topper — frosty,  fresh  milk  with 
strawberry  preserves  or  strawberry  pop. 
Top  with  whipped  cream  and  strawberry 


FESTIVAL  TROPICAL  FLOAT... 
Chocolate  milk  with  whipped  cream  and 
toasted  coconut.  Enjoy  with  fig  cookies! 
Easy!  Wholesome! 


^^^^  %ival\ 

VAL COOLER... Straw-  ^^JL    V  * 


never 


1^  illy  Years  A<i;() 
ill 

the  Journal 


SI'Hmc/IIMi;  i.,K|,ir.<l 
Hlniii^c  iliiiiii^H  in  New 

shin- ill  M«y,  l'»0.5  — ho  ii  wrrc 

rcl'iiHCtI  llif  ri<:lil  lo  vole  anil 
till-  Hlalr  wi'iil  «rl  iiflcr  lorlv- 
<-i;;lil  yi'iirK  of  ri>iii|il<-|c  |)roliilii- 
lioii.  'I'lir  liaiinliii^  hoii^  I'uIi- 
IIiiiiiIh  I  l.ovcil  ii|i|iriiro<l.  p'oiir 
Soiillirrii  wliili-M  iuimhimI  lawn  for- 
Itiililiii;^  rliilil  laliiir  iiiltlfr  It'll 
yoarrt  of  it-^f.  \l  Moult-  (UiHMiiio, 
llif  Kill-;  of  llaly  and  llit-  l'liii> 
|M-ror  ol  <>frinaiiv  s|ii-nl  ii  pcaft'- 
liil  allcrnoon. 


riic  May.  I'Xt.'t.  J<»(i|{NAI. 
laiiiK'liftI  a  I't-li-liral  ftl  cam- 
liai^ii  —  poiiiliiiK  oiil  I  lit-  liiuli 
•  'oiiifiii  (if  opiiiiii,  alt'ohol  uikI 
(■oi'aiiif  ill  iHipiilarpatfiit  iiirtli- 
t'iiit'M. 

I'ahli-  nitiniKTs :  "Oiif  slioiilil  ki'ff> 
oiif's  i>lalf  in  tis  nrdfily  ii  lonili- 
tion  US  lircutnstuiii  fs  uill  allint: 

It  iiitifii  sluiiilil  iiliK  f  thrir  filoiH's  in 
thrir  Iti/ia,  nitl  in  thr  wini'fllusses." 

"Thf  Wtiiiiaii  <>r  Kifly:  A  few 
years  a^o.  a  lioiiiifl  u  i  I  li  nI  riiics 
u as  t*oiisitl<-r4Ml  lliforil\  t't^rrtM*! 
Iial  for  a  »oiiiaii  »li<i  uas  no 
Itin^cr  yoiiii;:.  INou  Hdiiifii  itf 
lifl>  ut'ar  loi|ii<'s,  fur  iiiori; 
foiiifortalilc  aiitl  l>econiiii|e-*' 

"A  llt>iist-lM>al  for  $2r>()()."  photo- 
graphfd  on  (rnti  Lukt>.  Michigan, 
"has  parlor,  tiiiiing  room,  kilohen 
anil  six  htHlrooiiis." 

"II  /i«f  shoithl  a  ivoniait  wear 
ill  itliiff  of  «  hii.slle  /«»  relieff 
Jliiliiess  ttf  Jiaiire!'"  «  reader 
uiinis  fn  fitntiv.  insirer:  "t 
small  sho/tetl  /tail  made  t»/  /i«ir 
iiiirf  fastened  lit  the  insitte  i>f 
the  skirt." 

"If  you  have  $500  antl  ihree 
months"  vacation,  go  abroad," 
advises  a  wt>rld  traveler. 

"('otloti  aiifl  linen  KO<>ds  >«ill 
shrink  three  quarters  of  an  inch 
per  yartl.  so  wash  theni  before 
cut  tiiiK.*' 


ci/m/ 


]oii7? 


4p»MMl|t  iiImiuI 

|M*4»|il«>  >  «»u  kn«»w, 

KillfwrM  ^ou  Ilk**, 

llll«l  Wlilll  |(«M'N  «tli 

In  .\«'w  Ywrk 


Nelle  I'rrry  ;  S({l  Ntarir  rrii.iri|,  ^  rjin  r .  I  .  Miineurr  liu^r 
'I'lirlry;  Ciiiit.  itrtly  I'uilfffl  lJarkr,  I  iiili-d  Kiriffilorii ;  (lii|il.  Mi 
fliuflu  Siiiilli,  hciiiM.irk ;  Ollii  rr  (^ailri  I'ulrii'ia  Ann  Kranr.  i  '.iw 
adu;  Seel  ion  I  j-.idcr  Kugnj  Hriinn,  Norw  ay :  ami  (Idpl.  Allierla  II  ul 
iiukIc,  i'fc.  Joiin  Hrliiii.unil  (lapl.  Hurbura  Jann  Smith, of  ibr  WA(^ 


NKi.i.i:  n:ul{^ .  »iio  >wi..  a  w  \  \  i 
lit*iileiiaiil  hclorc  I'tiiiiiiiK  lo  I  h«* 
.|(M  awi..  fell  riiclil  al  home  aiiioiii: 
all  I  he  iiiiiftiriiiH  I  lie  ol  her  ila>  m  hen 
members  of  llie  uomeii's  ser^i^'es  itl 
six  N\'l'(>  naliiois  \i-.ile<l  llieJOl  l<- 
NM.'S  I'hilatlelphiii  oiliri  s.  (Nole 
originals  of  imil  lit*r-aiMl-<liiiii:liler 
cti\ers  till  tilliee  \4all.)  'i'he  ^iiiltirs, 
loiiriiii;;  lilt*  I  .S.  iiiitler  atispiees  of 
I  he  W  \<;,  »ere  mtisl  iiiipressetl  b> 
ii>  Ions,  steaks,  uiiti  men  —  not  neces- 
saril>  in  llial  oriler.  "I  see  not  one 
cou  Imi\  all  the  \%ay 
from  \^  iisliiimlon  to 
l^liilatlclpliia."  p4»itle<l 
SerfieanI  I'eiiard,  of 
I  raiiee,  antl  i.aptaiii 
Smith,  of  Denmark, 
assiiretl  her  kiiow- 
iiiKly.  till  Hon'l  tiiitl 
et>wlK>>s  in  I'liilatlel- 
phia,  hut  all  \meriean 
men  Ititik  like  ct>«  Imivs 
ill  I  he  mtivies — hie, 
slrt>n^  antl  easygo- 
iiiS." 

Here's  what  happened  al 
the  Minneapolis  Naval 
Air  Station  when  the  De- 
cember Journal  came 
out  with  the  article  called 
Operation  Kid-Lift,  that 
told  how  Marines  in  Korea  had  adopted 
a  whole  displaced  Korean  orphanage. 
The  Marine  Wives  Club  there  had  already 
collected  350  pounds  of  clothing  locally, 
when  suddenly,  from  the  Journal 
story,  the  Twin  Cities  area  alone 
swamped  the  Station  with  27.000  pounds 
of  clothing  and  toys  for  the  Korean  kids. 
To  give  you  an  idea,  here's  a  two-ton  pile. 
There  were  nearly  six  more  just  as  big. 

Attending  the  Furniture  Show,  with 
Chicago  jammed  to  the  rafters. 
Henrietta  Miirdock  waited  while 
her  hotel  doorman  tried  to  catch  an 
empty  taxi  for  her.  Two  yellows,  a 
brown,  a  checker— he  waved  away. 
Finally,  he  accepted  a  green  one. 
"Sorry  you  had  to  wait,  ma'am."  he 
said  as  he  closed  the  door,  '"but  I 
wanted  to  get  you  one  that  would  just 
match  your  green  hat!" 

V(  hen  Margaret  Davitlsan  met  If  i7- 
liam  Heehe  in  the  rain  forest  tm 
TrinitlatI,  I  be  famous  naturalist  ltdtl 
her  lieM  mutle  pets  t>f  man>  strange 
animals,  biil  that  bis  Mife,  Elsuyth 
Thane,  the  writer,  was  the  first  per- 
son be  knew  wbt»'d  ever  matle  a  pet 
tif  atret — a  sugar-maple  treetm  their 
>  ermoiit  maple-sugar  farm.  It  gi>es 


lilt-     llil^llctl     tllKitr    >iclil    illi\  liiTt' 

aroiinti;  she  ealls  i|  Suet-I  Sue.  antl 
plan  I  M  i  I  H  HeetlliiigH  all  ti\  er  I  be  plat-e. 

liaun  \nrinini  tllOUglll  she  was 
s«.-emg  double  the  other  day  when  she 
found  herself  in  a  building  al  iifHh  and 
Madison  where  all  the  girl  elevator  op- 
erators were  red-liaired.  All  sixteen  of 
them.  What  beauty  editor  wouldn't 
lx;gin  to  ask  questions?  Seems  the 
management  thinks  red  hair  sets  a 


From  JouKNAL  readers  to  Korean  kids.  Packages 
stack  10  feet  high,  20  at  base.  Weight — 2  tons. 


certain  tone,  and  that  even  the  girls 
who  haven't  red  hair  to  begin  with  are 
glad  to  change,  at  the  management's 
expense.  WTiat's  more,  the  assistant 
starter  told  Dawn,  the  husbands  of  the 
eleven  married  girls  who  changed  over 
to  red  are  all  delighted  too. 


^  hen  Jt>  tun  Turner,  sliitli 
(21.  just  .>'  tall),  set  tiir 
ft>r  Manila  antl  Tt>k\o  as 
"(^iieen  ft>r  a  I)a\*"  tin 
Mutual  Brtiatleast  i  ng 
( limipany  *s  prttgram  ht>ii- 
tiring  wtinien  in  milil;ir> 
service,  l^itra  I  Am  HrtHik- 
rtiari.  Journ  al  managing 
e<litt>r.  went  along  tti  see 
Vlacs,  \taves,  V^afs, 
Mtimen  marines  antl 
nurses  working  at  I  .  S. 
military  installations  all 
acrtiss  the  Pacific.  ,|t>  Ann. 
w  bt>  lives  in  Los  Angeles, 
just  graduated  from  Cal- 
ift>rnia  Iit>spital  School  tif 
Nursing,  bttpes  to  be  a 
Na\>  t>r  Air  Fort*e  niirst*. 
As  the  Queen,  she  re- 
ceived a  rt>yal  v»elcome 
everywhere.  Laura  Ltiu 
reiMtrted  that  she  hati  a 
title  too.  At  (>uam  fttr 
breakfast     at  Tumtin 


Ml  .1.  Ii  ^i  im.  ■  (  lull  un  iiuililliil 
■•f-rgeiiiil  iii-hiil  ii|i  etf-luiming. 
"Wlitri'-  llii  iillnr  iMiiiiuii'"  \fli-r 
lliree  v^eekn  v«illi  llie  Ner%it-eit.  Ji» 
\iin  antl  Laura  l.oii  ImiIIi  are  muk- 
ing  enl  liiisia«l  it-  pliiiis  for  eelelirul - 
iiig    \rmetl    I  tircen   Ma>   on  Ma>  Ui. 

l-'irst  in  March.  1903.  and  a,iain  in 
March.  1953.  we  published  the  famous 
limerick  about  the  man  from  Sanlucktl. 
without  giving  thr  author's  name.  Well, 
he's  I'nif.  hiiyttm  I'lMtrlieeH,  of 
Princeton:  prol>ably  the  only  living 
author  to  have  nuide  two  appearances  in 
the  JoVHSM-exactly  half  a  century  apart. 
And  he  has  just  given  us  permission  lo 
print  the  limerick,  with  or  without  credit, 
once  every  fifty  years,  from  now  on. 

^  f  wt*re  tliseiiHsirig  tlavtlreamn. 
lirtire  (fimltl's  ucrt-  riiriiiing  a  tiig- 
iMtal  in  New  ^  ork  liurlMir:  Mm.  (^.'», 
Ix-ing  a  poslman  in  a  small  allrac- 
live  tt>»n  full  of  Irees.  Hliere  ithtr 
ct»iiltl  he  ualkiiig  iiiittliMir**  iill  tiav. 
(.leiiii  II  liile's  were  lo  be  a  ilflegate 
al  the  I  niletl  Nations.  iM-ing  lis- 
tened to  all  at  t>nce  in  Knglish. 
Freiieli.  Russian.  Spanish.  (!liinese. 
W  bile  llenriel  la  M  nrthtrk's  were  tt> 
tIa/./.le  great  circus  ertiutls  \«i|b  her 
breath-taking  sliints  on  Ibe  high 
tra|>e7,e.  .  .  .  ^  bat  alMiiit  >t>iirs? 

.tccttnlin u  lita  rereni  surrey,  tlivttrre 
rates  are  hiuher  than  averaiie  among 
doctors,  actors,  traveling  salesmen, 
seatnen  ami  musicians :  lower  than 
average  antonu  teachers,  civil-service 
em/iloyees,  farmers,  lairyers.  it 
present .  the  divorce  rate  is  rising 
fastest  ill  t  he  Son  I  h  and  II  est,  ivhere 
formerly  it  iras  </iii/e  /«*ic. 


Queen  Jo  Ann  Turner  (right)  at  L.S.  embassy, 
Manila,  interviews  \^  illiam  Lacey.  U.S.  Minister, 
and  Col.  Bernard  L.  Anderson,  vice-president, 
I'hilippiiie  Airlines,  as  "other  woman"  listens. 


42 


ii[  i[  m «[ 


CM  ws 


in  p 

ByUon  I 


Ai  mi  mm 


It 


/ 


1^ 


1^ 


'Don  I  yoit  want  to  come  with  mc?^^ 

she  asked.  "If  you  don't,  honcv-, 
then  you  re  a  new  kind  of  man." 

And  she  opened  her  beautiful  mouth  wide 
to  roar  with  laughter. 


lir^ltlflltl^  tl  firu  sriiiil 


Wi  rilOl  r  kiiiiHiiif>  UN  UK  wr  KITI-.  il 
XMilild   lie  iiti|)im><ili|r   In  il|i|ir(-i'iiili- 
lli<-  iiM|itM'|  ilijit  llic  Miiiiiaii  \sliiiHi'  iiatiii- 

WilH  Mnillllilll  llUil  U|ii>ll  (|x.  M  l  I  lirsi- 

lalf  Id  (IcNcrilM"  iiw  ai  w<-  v*rrc.  Ii  i«i  «,o  (•uh\ 
III  III-  ini'«iiii<li-rH|iMHl. 

I  \\niilil  iiol  Ituvf  yiiu  lliiiik  ili.ii  I  .III- 
iiiiiril  lii'i   liir  -III'  \\a'<  wii'ki-il.  I  Miiiilil  Mill 

liavr  \iiu  lliink  lli.ll  lliilr  \^a^l  ever  ,| 
liiiiiiHiil  III  ulinli  I  liki'il  lli'l.  Iii-lrail.  I 
uiiiiM    li.iM     Villi    lii  licvr   llial  I  ainc 

.iinullL'  II-  mil  ur  irai  lrij  a-  \\v  liail  licril 
liiv-lmril  III  irarl.  Or  ilnr-  llial  -iiuinl  a- 
liii>Uf;li  I  llinii^lii  II-  -(I  itii|iiiriaiil  dial 
Kale,    III     |)irlia(i-  lliiii-ill.  Iiail 

lliilllilril   111  -1  111!   Ili  l    111  II-  ' 

\iiil  llii'ii'  I  .1111  li.ii  k  aii.iiii  a!  llir  irali/a- 
liiiii  lli.il  iiiHir  111  il  iiiakc!-  scMsr  iiiiic^s  wc 

ullii  klliw  lli  l  Wi  ll  ,111-  I  liMI  In  Mill.  I  rilll-l 
l.lki-  llir  M-k  111  liilllL'  llll-tUl<irl-lniii|. 
W  II  III  111  I    I  111-    I  l-k    1 1  H  I  r    I  -    III  1   cliaiiri-   1  il 

iiiiilci  -I, Hilling;. 

I    Uiiulij    llki'    111   Irll   .lliiilll     \llnl  LlllK'l 

firs  I.  All  11 1  I  ..III  II  I  \\,i-  III  I  HI  |i  ii  I  ir-  a  I  (111- 
lime  111  \s  hu  ll  I  w  i  ih-.  I^^Ih-  ssa  -  a  (all  wciiiian 
uilli  ail  cxIiaiiiiliiKiriU  uiuxi  lii;uri'  ami  a 
line  complcxii HI.  She  iiiaii,i^:i-il  ilw  allair- 
of  our  liouschdld.  tii\  iiinllii  r  liavint:  ilinl 
at  my  birth.  My  innilin  Ii.hI  Im-i  h  a  m  is 
beaulidil  \Miriuui.  Mi  innilnr-  wlm  iIh- 
young  tlii'  ix-autilul.  I  lliink  llii-  i-  a  Iraili- 
tion.  Or  perhaps  a  plni.  Tin-  i  hiM  u  Im  lias 
not  seen  its  mother  has  missed  the  nio-l 
heavenlv  creature  who  ever  trod  the  earth 
and  must  he  cimliMil  In  treasure  a  tintype 
of  a  rather  edinmnMphiee  girl  with  <lii.'titK 
popping  eyes  and  dull,  straight  hair. 

Aunt  Laurel  was  unmarried.  She  lunl 
been  betrothed  to  a  young  man   I  nun 

CopyriKht.  IV-S.i,  by  \'ina  Dfliiiar. 


ItoHliiU.  Il  hull  lx-«-|l  llir  [MTfrel  riinuilK'C. 
LiM-.  ({iMid  |iHikn,  Mi-ulili.  iIh*  up|iri(\ul  of 
llii-  iMii  luinilicH.  Tlii-ii  on  lln-  du)  iN-fun- 
the  yiiuiif;  iiiuri,  liiit  fuinily  uuil  friciidH  vivrv 
Id  Hci  dfl  lor  New  Ydfk  uml  llir  |in'Wcii- 
din^  rrxiivilicN,  .\unl  l^un  I'k  love  wrni 
liiialiiif^  unii  wun  (Irowned. 

I  dd  Mill  lliuiL  il  iw  u  n  flei  itdii  dm  AunI 
Liiin  l's  mental  In  allh  lo  nay  that  iihr 
almd><l  Men!  mud  v\iih  ^rief.  She  ^avr  her- 
-l  it  up  Id  ■^orrovs  and  ulrmmt  dii-d  of  il,  hut 
lii'i-uuhe  •ilie  is  normal  ihi-  fundameiiiul 
idundni'^s  df  licr  hi-iiig  vmuld  lrl  Iht  wci-p 
iim!\  xd  lung.  And  in  lime  ihi-  young  man 
v\liii  drovMicd,  ilioiigli  never  forgdllen,  Iw- 
<  amr  >-dmi-dni-  who  had  lii-rn  aduri-d  by  a 
dillrrrnl,  ha|ipier  girl. 

Ihiri-  are  stories  abdul  \uiil  ijurel'H 
VM  ildiiig  gdwn.  Yrs.  il  is  irui-  thai  she 
-avi  ci  il.  Il  is  as  iH-auliful  as  mddid)eamH. 
\\  lial  wa-  -hr  lo  do  with  il?  IJurii  it  in 
I  III'  parliir  sldve?  (iivc  il  awaN  ';"  I  hi-  poor 

I  In  nol  marry  in  sui  h  a  gown,  and  any 
Irii  iid  III  \iimi  laurel's  would  have  under- 
-laMiiahK  -huddered  at  the  idea  fff  aeeept- 
ing  it  as  a  gift  for  her  own  wedding. 

il  is  a  lie  that  the  gown  stood  upon  a 
iln  s-nnaker's  figure  in  Aunt  Laurel's  room. 

II  ;-  a  111  that  she  wore  it  on  the  anniver- 
sary ol  the  day  that  should  have  seen  her 
wedding.  The  gown  rested  in  an  enameled 
ehest  in  the  storeroom.  I  do  not  know  why 
\unt  laurel  preserver!  it.  She  was  not  sav- 
ing it  lor  me.  Certainly  she  knew  I  would 
never  marry. 

\unl  I^aurel's  brother,  Powell,  was  my 
father.  I  had  alwavs  called  him  by  his 
gi\cn  name.  Hnw  this  came  about  I  do  not 
know,  it  must  have  been  a  whim  of  mine 
in  the  beginning.  (Continued  on  Pane  72) 


The  I'onipany  lold  her  where  fo  shop,  how  mueh  io  Kpend.  whieh  books  to  read, 
and  when  Io  have  her  babies.  Uui  there  is  a  point  where  a  woman  must  rebel. 


"B^  B-di/JC^d  -Hope. 


HE  raised  his  head  an  inch,  so  that  their 
hps  barely  touched  and  she  could  see 
his  eyes,  but  his  arms  still  held  her  in  a 
rib-crushing  grip.  "Do  you  mind  if  I 
breathe?"  she  whispered. 

"Oh."  His  muscles  relaxed  and  she 
stirred  against  his  chest,  warm  and  un- 
resisting and  almost  content.  He  kissed  her 
eyelids  and  her  chin  and  her  cheeks  and 
the  tip  of  her  nose.  "Michelle!"  (She  liked 
the  way  he  said  it,  giving  the  sounds  their 
full  value.)  "Darling!  Oh,  how  I  love  you! 
There's  nobody  else  on  earth,"  he  told 
her.  "Nothing  else.  Just  you  and  me,  and 
I  belong  to  you." 

"Ph,  no!  I  belong  to  you." 
"Do  you  really  love  me?" 
She  laughed  softly  and  ran  her  fingers 
over  the  close-clipped  hair  at  the  back  of 
his  neck.  "If  I  don't,  somebody  ought  to 
take  a  hairbrush  to  me." 

He  kissed  her  mouth  more  gently  this 
time.  "You  did  say  that  you'd  marry  me?" 


"Let's  see  you  try  to  run  out  on  me." 
"Right  away?" 

"Well,  not  tonight.  It  must  be  after  two." 

"As  soon  as  we  can  get  a  license  and  all 
the  red  tape?"  He  shifted  his  weight  and 
one  of  the  springs  of  the  swing  went  hlang! 

She  looked  past  his  head  at  the  stars. 
She  said,  "Oh,  it's  going  to  be  glorious,  be- 
longing to  each  other  for  the  rest  of  our 
lives.  We'll  have  a  house  in  the  country 
with  plenty  of  room  for  the  children.  Be- 
cause we're  going  to  have  fine,  strong,  red- 
headed sons  with  freckles  on  their  noses, 
and  ears  that  stick  out  a  little,  and  " 

"We're  going  to  have  beautiful  daugh- 
ters with  dark  curls  and  enormous  brown 
eyes  that  crinkle  up  when  they  laugh,  and 
fine  ankles  and  slender,  straight  legs  " 

She  pulled  herself  up  and  kissed  his  lips. 

And  so  they  were  married  and  

They  stood  close  together  at  the  dim  en- 
trance of  the  restaurant  and  Garry  peered 


around  the  room  at  the  people  who  were 
already  seated  at  the  tables  for  lunch. 

"For  two,  sir?"  the  headwaiter  asked. 

"We're  meeting  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harper 
Ollivant,"  Garry  said.  "Oh,  here  he  is." 

Mr.  Harper  Ollivant  was  a  masterpiece 
of  convexities:  a  pink-shining  egg-shaped 
head  with  trimmed  white  hair  over  the 
round  ears,  shoulders  that  sloped  into  the 
smooth  curve  that  swept  up  from  the  oval 
bulge  of  his  paunch,  a  round  chin  with  a 
soft  repetition  of  itself  just  below,  a  round 
nose  that  supported  the  twin  ellipses  of 
dark  horn-rimmed  spectacles.  His  mouth 
made  an  o  as  he  gripped  Garry's  hand 
and  looked  past  him  at  Michelle. 

"Well!"  he  said  in  a  rich,  deep  voice. 
"Good  to  see  you  back.  And  this  " 

"This  is  my  wife,"  Garry  said,  succeed- 
ing for  the  first  time  with  the  enunciation 
of  it.  "Mr.  Ollivant,  dear." 

Mr.  Ollivant's  hand  was  firmer  than  she 

had  expected,  (Continued  on  Page  116) 


(yUittTouT  wOAniVi^,  he  CGu^hT  ^qa  in  his  OAmg  and  brought  hiS  moO^ 
down  on  h&iS.  *Oh  nol's^e  said.'Uo,  ^O,  no,  no'" 


Till'",  Sr|ilriiilii  r  ~UM  jjiililrii.  I  In-  lla;.'^ 
Illlllf;  Mil  p|  ic  p|||c>>  lliizll  nil  llir  lilll  (il  llic 

stadium,  and  hclow.  I'oloi'liil  in  s|)()rl>  cluili 
iiij;,  (lie  fiallory  sal  {;luinly  on  ils  hands. 

I  lie  !)all  boys  scani[)crcd.  In  his  hijih  i  lum 
llu-  umpire  said  nasally,  "Mr.  Torscn  leads, 
live  games  to  three,  third  set." 

Dane  Torsen  took  the  two  hail-  lln-  lin\ 
bounced  to  him.  He  moved  to  the  uorn  spoi 
on  the  service  line.  He  thought,  his  lips  twist- 
ing, that  the  sacred  turf  of  Forest  Hills  had 
taken  a  beating  this  Nationals.  He  thought, 
too,  with  bitter  amusemeiil.  tluit  the  gallery 
wasn't  going  to  get  a  chance  to  ap|)laud  Taylor 
in.  Aor  /  (irtrns  either — loniorran  ,  Dane  told 
hinisclt  and  grinned  lu  ielK  . 

He  threw  up  the  while  hall,  a  big  man,  dark 
and  powerful,  with  wide  shoulders,  narrow 
hips  and  slim  legs.  Black-haired,  gray-eyed. 

He  grunted  as  the  racket  met  the  ball. 
Across  from  him  red-haired  Pete  Taylor 
blocked  it  back.  Dane  forehanded  deep  to 
Taylor's  base  line.  The  ball  returned,  fast  and 
low.  Dane  backhanded  to  Taylor  s  forehand, 


but  llii-  linu",  deliberately,  he  softened  the 
stroke.  Racing  for  it,  Taylor's  timing  wa.i 
llinuMi  the  least  bit  off.  Danewatchcfl  the  ball 
|M-s:  heard  the  litn'sman  s  quick  "Out,"  and 
the  umpire  droning,  "Fifteen  love,"  even  as 
his  lips  twisted  at  the  gallery's  groan. 

He  s|)un  the  next  service  in,  his  strong 
while  teeth  showing  in  his  wet  tanned  face. 
He  lobbed  Taylor's  swift  return  as  Taylor 
raced  for  the  net.  Taylor  went  back  too  late  for 
any  kill  and  lobbed  as  well.  Dane  tf)ok  it  over 
his  bead  almost  at  his  base  line  as  Taylor 
started  in.  Taylor's  desperate  lunge  could  not 
even  touch  the  ball.  There  was  just  the  faint- 
est patter  of  applause  as  the  umpire  said. 
'Thirty  love.  " 

Dane  took  a  ball  from  the  ball  bov.  His  first 
service  was  a  fault.  He  didn't  use  his  spinning 
second,  he  gave  the  second  ball  everything  he 
had  and  grinned  as  Taylor  shook  his  head. 

There  was  a  sigh  and  a  murmur  from  the 
crowd.  Dane  knew  they  were  saying,  "Match 
point."  It  was.  There  wouldn't  be  any  other 

points  to  follow.  (Continued  on  Page  96 1 


7^  ^ii/i/»{Men 


\ 


19 


,Ti  I  II; 


'Slwp  Hvvinii  thai  man." 


hvr  Httn  iriirnvtl. 


"i'm  juHi  It'llinfi  f/o« 


for  your  turn  ffwnl." 


l!H\(Ki:ir   Mr  lliril    llir  (il    lur  tli-\V 

lilai'k  ili'os  ami  la>^li'iM'il  ii  ,i  -<iiuill  gulil  Iiiimk  Ii. 
It  looked  sliaiii:r  a^aiii-l  iIm  ^diiiImt  lihi<k.  Onli- 
iiarils  ilnl  nil!  \M-,ir  |c\m-I(  \  al  -m  li  .1  iiriic; 

still,  this  was  >ciriiclliiMfi  llial  (iliarlic  lunl  fiivt-ii  licr 
\nIicii  tlicy  were  lirsi  nuiiii<-(l  and  she  liad  worn  it 
almost  steadily  ever  since.  Hiil  of  course  everyliody 
would  not  know  llial.  Wi  liiciaiillv  she  unfastened  the 
lillle  hroocli  and  ran  Ik-i  lliunih  over  llie  two  faint 
marks  w  InCli  il  Icll  111  Im-i  dress. 

Outside,  llic  lain  came  down  in  a  drizzle,  streak- 
ing the  vvindowpanes  and  washing  the  snow  from  the 
sill.  She  watched  it  nag  at  the  tin  piazza  roof  and  drip 
down  the  drain.  A  boy  from  the  florist  shop  came  up 
the  front  walk,  carrying  a  wreath  of  white  flowers. 
Mrs.  Brackett  wailed  a  momenl.  then  rrsdiulely 
pinned  on  her  hat  with  its  crape  \eil. 

Downstairs  in  the  parlor,  Flo,  her  daughlcr-iii  lciw, 
was  placing  the  white  wreath  where  it  wnuld  >how 
best.  She  smiled  encouragingly  as  Mrs.  Brackett 
came  in.  "Everything's  ready,  mother." 

"Yes,  dear,"  Julie  said.  "You  run  up.  I'll  come  in 
a  minute."  Mrs.  Brackett  {Continued  on  Page  30i) 


ILLUSTRATED    BY    PBUETT  CARTER 


''ailing  started,  and  she  opened  her  eyes, 
afraid  with  the  distance  and  the  spinning 


51 


^S^^^^^T^^^  ^^^^^^ 


IT  S  II  in  Oiic-twftity-niiii-.  lJo<:lor  Ross," 

sail!  iIh-  iiifilii  --iiiicrvisor.  "Wdii"!  lake  h«T  m»'(J- 
iciiw.  and  (  ((niplaiiiiiig  almul  the  rioi-c"  Jlcr  lips 
Wen-  i  ((m|)r<'.ssc(l  willi  di.sgu.st. 

Hf  picked  up  llic  fhart,  glarucd  ai  ii.  "Minor 
surgery;  poinf:  liomc  in  llic  morning — theyVf  always 
the  ones." 

The  r\isor  walcluvJ  liim  as  lie  swung  wearily 
ilnuii  ihi-  white  corridor,  his  slenderness  a  shadow 
iiiiiln  llif  shaded  iiipht  lifilits. 

Ill  lirard  the  cry  as  he  went  h\  room  128 — tenu- 
ous ami  wavering;  an  animal  sound  of  pain,  high, 
fragile.  He  stopped  a  moment,  trying  to  contain  the 
regret  and  anger  at  his  own  helplessness,  and  went 
on  into  129.  Snapping  off  the  call  light  at  the  head  of 
the  hed,  he  stood  looking  down  at  \  irginia  Marsden. 

"Better  take  a  pill  and  get  some  sleep." 

Impatiently  she  crushed  out  a  cigarette  in  the 
silver  ash  tray.  I  did  take  one.  Whatever's  going  on 
next  door — I  can't  stand  it.  "  The  lacy  bed  jacket  rose 
and  fell  as  she  lay  back,  running  nervous  fingers 
through  her  dark  hair.  The  cry  came  again,  search- 
ing— questioning.  "Damn!" 

Anger  flooded  him  again,  directed  now  at  the 
woman.  He  started  toward  the  door,  changed  his 
mind,  and  came  back.  The  lines  of  exhaustion  in  his 
face  were  deep.  '  You  can  stand  it  because  you  have 
to.  Maybe  you'd  like  to  know  why.  Miss  Marsden: 
there's  an  eleven-year-old  girl  in  One-twenty-eight. 
This  afternoon  at  the  i^palding  ranch  she  was  thrown 
from  a  horse.  She  fell,  not  on  the  trail  itself  but  on 
top  of  a  low  stone  wall.  Maybe  you  know  the  place." 

"Can't  you  give  her  something  to  help  that — 
that  " 

"No,  we  can't,  "  he  said.  "We've  given  the  neces- 
sary medication:  now  it'll  take  something  else.  This 
isn't  a  game.  Miss  Marsden.  Death  is  a  step  across  a 
threshold:  only  a  step.  \^  hen  you  hear  that  cry, 
you're  hearing  a  protest — not  at  dying,  which  w  ould 
be  easy,  but  at  having  to  live  so  painfully.  She  is  alive 
because  her  fatlier  is  w  illing  her  to  live — and  because 
she  loves  him.  she  listens.         {Continued  on  Page  107) 


ILLDSTIJATED  BY 


.  B  B  t  K  A     S  C  H  W  I  >  .>' 


fniictss  Anne  i  luve  of  adventure  and  Prince  Charles'  eager  questions  keep  royal  parents  occupied  during  daily  period  with  their  children 


To  millions  of  people,  Elizabeth  is  a  remote,  regal 

personage,  yet  Philip  has  been  heard  to  call  his  wife  ^ 
a  "silly  sausage,"  and  she  didn't  mind  in  the  least. 


t^limlirlli  rrjrtlnl  lltr  titrti  lluil  Iter  ih  iuiily 

\liiiulit  lir  knoiiii  h\  I'liilifi't  fiimUy  luimr, 

MmitillMillrii,  lull  Jtr  lut»  iiuulr  lirr  liuJmiiyl 

I  iiU  (,rtillrmnn  oj  llir  hiiul.  Tliitt 

I'lnli/i,  11  ho  run  nnrr  lit  kitiff, 

mm  rtiiikf  lirfnrr  ii  miin  ulm  ha*  litm 

Linff  I  Ihikr  of  tt'milvir  I  luul  the 

ixiy  It  ho  will  lie  kiitf(  ( Prince  (JiarleM). 


WIUIC  WOUI.Il  l>ll(H<l 


I) 


l{\  (,i-<tjjii'\  litmti 


PRINCESS  Kl.IZABKTll  ..f  Ki.f:lai..l  and  I'rincc  IMiilip  ..I 
(ii'ctn'O  liad  known  cadi  otlicr  sinc<'  cliililluKnl.  Iinl  il  was  nol 
nntil  I9i5  llial  circles  close  lo  tlie  Hiilisli  cniiil  knew  ilial  llie 
relalionslii])  helvveen  lliem  was  serious, 

W  lien  Klizabeth  was  a  very  small  girl  she  asked  King  (ieorgc  \  , 
her  graniliather,  "When  I  gel  married,  Graiidpaj-.a,  will  I  liave  lo 
marry  royally?"'  The  old  King  laiiglied  liearlily  and  lolii  I  lie  con- 
versalion  lo  his  wile,  (^)ueen  Mary.  \l  once  the  Queen  jolled  down 
a  list  ol  I  lie  small  hovs  who  would  one  day  he  eligible  for  Elizabelb's 
hand,  and  she  discussed  the  lisl  with  an  intitiiale  friend.  Il  included 
nearly  all  ihe  close  friends  whom  Klizabelh  acquired  as  she  grew 
up.  Bui  it  did  not  include  Prince  I'hilip  of  Greece. 

It  would  have  been  possible  lo  name  half  a  dozen  young  men 
with  whom  Elizabeth  could  have  made  a  more  obvious  match. 
Philip  was  dirterent  from  other  young  men  in  Hi  ili-h  high  society. 
He  was  tougher.  He  was  more  democratic.  He  had  knocked  about 
the  world.  He  played  all  sports  belter  than  most.  He  did  not  get  a 
"correct"  education.  But  his  birlh  was  acceptable.  Like  Elizabeth, 
he  was  a  great-great-grandchild  of  Queen  Victoria,  and  the  two 
were  second  cousins.  He  was,  of  course.  Greek  only  by  title. 

Of  all  the  roval  houses  remaining  in  Kurope.  the  Creek  mon- 
archy seemed  the  most  constantly  inseiure,  and  it  was  in  the  twi- 
light of  one  of  the  ephemeral  Greek  reigns  that  Prince  Philip  of 
Greece  and  Denmark  was  born  at  "Man  Rcpos"  summer  home  ol 
Prince  Andrew  and  Princess  Alice  of  Greece,  on  the  island  ol 
Corfu.  The  date  was  June  10,  1921.  Philip  became  sixth 
in  line  of  siKcession  to  the  throne 
of  Greece. 

His  contact  w  ith  Greece  was  soon 
over.  By  the  time  he  was  twelve 
months  old,  a  chubby  child  with 
fair  hair  and  blue  eyes,  he  was  on 
his  way  by  Royal  Naval  warstiip  to 
England.  His  father,  holding  a 
command  in  the  Greek  Army,  had 
been  captured  by  the  revolution- 
aries, and  they  were  deciding 
whether  to  kill  him  or  kick  him 
out  of  the  country.  Eventually 
they  decided  on  the  latter. 

Copyright.  I<»5.*.  by  (Geoffrey  Bocca.  This  is  an  excerpt  from 
the  book.  ICliiabeth  and  Philip,  soon  to  be  published  by 
Henry  Holt  S:  Co..  Inc. 


The  family  escajiiMj  with  almost  notfiing.  I  he  Iwhy  (trin<x"  wa.s 
saved  Irom  poverty  iiy  the  care  and  alTeclion  of  the  powerful  Etigli-^h 
branch  «(  his  family.  His  grandmother,  \Iarchion<-.ss  of  \Iilford 
I  la  veil,  adored  him.  So  did  his  uncle,  Lord  Louis  Mountbalten. 

^oung  Philij)  .s[)enl  his  first  years  nol  only  without  a  home  bul 
without  a  country.  By  some  happy  slrenglh  of  personality  ihese 
early  years,  which  might  have  madr-  liim  sliiftless,  were  actually  lo 
turn  him  into  a  man  of  exceptional  cliaracler. 

He  was  a  happy-go-lucky  child.  .'\t  the  age  of  seven  he  found 
himself  in  Paris  alter  having  lived  already  on  (]orfu  and  in  England. 
His  parents  settled  down  lor  ihe  time  lieing  in  a  small  house  outside 
the  cil\.  Princess  Alice  enrolled  him  in  a  small  .\merican  school  in 
Si.  Cloud,  a  Parisian  suburb,  and  one  of  the  first  things  he  learned 
was  the  correct  way  lo  swing  a  baseball  bat. 

Dili  iiig  those  early  years,  and  right  up  to  the  age  of  fifteen,  all 
people  w  ho  ever  came  in  contact  w  ith  Philip  were  impressed  w  ith  his 
passion  lor  and  determination  al  sports.  He  played  baseball,  cricket 
and  soccer.  He  hurdled,  ran,  climbed,  and  one  teacher  can  recall 
his  w  inning  a  biscuit-eating  contest  by  mouthfuls. 

The  days  at  St.  Cloud  were  happy  ones  for  Philip  even  though 
lie  lacked  certain  of  the  freedoms  of  the  other  children.  For  one 
ihing,  other  boys'  parents  generally  had  more  money  than  Philip's. 
One  friend,  visiting  Princess  Alice  for  tea,  made  a  laughing  com- 
ment when  she  saw  the  little  boy  clear  away  the  dishes,  ignoring 
the  protests  of  the  maid.  'T  might  have  to  be  a  waiter  one  day,"  he 
ex|)lained  cheerfully.  (Continued  on  Page  184) 


With  Elizabeth  (left)  and  Princess  Margaret,  Philip  watclies  Command  Variety  Slioiv  at  the  Palladium. 


ILHELA  CUSHMAN 


ri-wnTdr^  O  "f^T*  fashions  are  among  the  best  lor  color  excitement.  Clare  Potter 
O  VV  V_yCtLv^±  olive-green  cashmere  sweater  trimmed  with  ribbon  over  a 

raspberry-pink  linen  sheath.  Worn  with  leaf  sandals,  pink  linen  bag  by  Morris  Moskowitz. 


PriQPmKlp  i"  cotton  has  a  ne 
C^llOH^llJ-Ull-y    cloth  with  a  coat  ir 


new  look — a  dress  in  Sanforized  broad- 
in  Paisley  print,  by  Ben  Barrack.  Velvet 
collar  and  cuffs  match  the  belt.  Shantung  straw  hat  by  Mr.  John,  cotton  bag  by  Mme..Iean. 


excitement 

Colors  you  never  dreamed  of  putting  together 
can  be  enchanting — beige  with  moss  green 
or  coral,  green  with  raspberry  or  mauve, 
strong  yellow  with  pink,  ohve  green  with 
blue.  Designers  use  colors  in  two  ways — the 
fashion  in  monotone  shades  and  the  costume 
in  color  combinations. 

It's  the  way  you  wear  it  that  gives  you  color 
excitement.  Use  your  favorite  yellow  scarf 
with  a  new  cinnamon  silk  suit.  Carry  a  chalk- 
blue  linen  or  straw  bag  with  your  beiges. 

Wear  a  flower-pink  or  pastel  leather  belt  with 
a  flannel  skirt,  an  emerald-green  hat  with 
a  black-and-white  costume.  Sweaters  and 
stoles  match  or  contrast.  Trv  the  unusvial 


combinations. 


BY  WILIIKLA  CI  StIMAN 

Fashitin  t'tlitiir  tif  I  lir  Jntiriitil 


\  V 


)asic 


l)eiee  lavon-lineii  lioleni 


dress  with  Mr.  John's 
5  hat  and  chintz  hag.  green  ralf  heh. 


stole  matches  the  tie-|)rint  oi 
tliis  mauve-and-green  sateen 
dress  bv  John  Miller.  Purse  is  of  silk  shantung. 


mauve 


stole 


of  cvclanien-pink  tafVeta  goes  with  a  pink  Paisley  pii]ue  for  summer  eve- 
niu'^s.  bv  Moliie  Parnis.  Pink  kidskin  sandals,  pink  bracelet  and  earrings. 


56 


JOURNAL  DISCOVERIES  IN 


COTTON  I 


Sheer  coidfil  t niioii  iriiniiu'd  wiili  u  luh-  (iii|iir',  SIO.T).  Wliile  liiil. 


We've  discovered,  and  SO  u ill  \(tti.  llial  ;i  U-w  dol- 
lars will  buy  the  most  wonderrul  col  Ion  dresses  — 
pretty  enough  for  a  i)ri(le  al  hrcaklasl,  smart 
enough  for  anybody's  day  in  town,  practical  as 
the  day  is  long.  Fashion  has  given  llieiii  lilllc 
jackets  and  stoles  to  double  their  purposes,  ample 
skirts  and  safe  washability  that  double  their  vahie. 
Wear  them  with  your  best  belts,  straw  bags,  fresh 
flowers,  cotton  gloves, white  jewelry.  Dresses  like 
these  are  a  tribute  to  any  wardrobe,  and  to  the  keen 
shopping  sense  of  anv  woman  who  wears  lliem. 

By  WlLIIELA  CUSIIMAN 
Fashion  Editor  ofl/ir  Journal 


Budget's  deliglit  — toile-printed  black-and-white  cotton  dress  for  afternoon.  S2.98.  by 
Alfred  (ireen.  Carrv  a  prettv  parasol,  wear  vour  best  slippers,  choose  your  own  belt. 

A  basic  summer  cotton  in  [lale  pink  Sanforized  broadcloth.  •S12.95.  by  Jerry  Gilden.  It 
is  dressed  lor  town  wiih  a  black  straw  sailor  and  a  paleiil-leather  belt,  by  Roger  \  an  S. 


38 


A  feminine,  romantic  way  of  looking  .  .  .  Or- 
lon-and-wool  flannel,  button-front  classic  .  .  . 
mandarin  neckline  covered  with  a  jeweled 
while  fur  collar.  Worn  with  a  taffeta  petticoat 
lohold  the  silhouette.  Vogue  Design  No.  8007. 


Lovely  Dawn  Norman  (photographed  just  three  weeks  hefi 
her  second  baby  was  due)  came  to  the  ollice  imtil  the  day  before 
her  baby  arrived,  looking  as  fresh  and  pretty  as  you  see  her 

here.  She  rolled  the  collar  of  her  velveteen  jacket  close  to  I 
neck,  added  flowers  a  sparkle  pin  .  .  .  had  the  jacket  made  with 
snaps  instead  of  buttons,  for  a  less  conspicuous  closing. 

Jacket.  Vogue  Design  No.  71-27;  ll-cut  skirt.  Design  No.  71 


Co-ordinated  denims — blue-and-white  stripes 
with  fadc«l  blue  <lenini — combine  for  beach, 
work  «»r  play.  Vtc  acc-ented  the  raglan  sleeves 
and  yoke  with  white  soutache  braid.  Vogue 
Design  No.  78S8.  Sleeves  may  also  be  short. 

LILLIAN  BASSMAN 


YEAR-ROUND 

MATERNITY 
CLOTHES 


IVIaternity  clothes  are  now  a  fashion.  The  millions  of  young  mothers-to-be  who  circu- 
late without  interruption  create  a  demand  for  suitable,  becoming,  comfortable  dresses 
which  designers  interpret  into  gay  young  clothes,  full  of  trend-setting  ideas. 

The  ncM-est  "look,"  we  think,  is  the  button-front  coat-dress  worn  with 
petticoats  which  keep  it  from  clinging  and  give  the  costume  a  rather  tentlike  sil- 
houette. We  can  see  a  whole  wardrobe  from  the  same  design,  for  it  is  suitable  for  any 
fabric,  including  flannel,  faille,  denim,  pique,  corduroy  and  velveteen.  By  varying  the 
sleeve  length  and  neckline,  you  will  get  unlimited  effects.  Ever-popular  two-piece  designs 
are  prettier  than  ever,  the  jumper  fashion  we  started  three  years  ago  appears  in  many 
new  versions.  The  trend  is  toward  wearing  slacks  "at  home,"  pedal  pushers  and  a  shirt 
instead  of  a  house  dress,  and  shorts  for  summer  comfort. 

We  know  a  girl  who  makes  short  crinoline  "pettislips"  to  wear  under  her 
jackets  to  keep  them  looking  crisp  .  .  .  another  who  faces  the  lower  edge  of  her  jackets 
with  horsehair  to  keep  them  from  clinging.  We  can't  help  being  enthusiastic  about 
what  these  clothes  can  do  for  you  .  .  .  proof  being  that  three  of  the  girls  photographed 
here  were  in  their  last  month  of  pregnancy.  By  NORA  O'LF^ARY 

Pallrrn  Eililor  iif  ihe  Jntinml 


Baok  Views,  Sizes,  Prices  are  on  Page  88 


'rilis  prolly  lio-silk,  Im>u -iu-<-k<-<l 
iarkcl  liais  l>ii<-k  lull  IK^SS.  Slit  |M»l'k- 
(Ms.  I>iill<ui  front.  iMakf  it  in  |)i<|iit'' 
or  liiu'ii  Cor  suninicr  .  .  .  failU'  I'oi' 
uinlvr.  \o;;ii«-   l>osi<:n  No.  791{l$. 


(IhtM'kcd  tair<*ta  Jnni|H-r  to  Im-  uorn  witli 
or  wilhoni  a  <li<-k<->  (oni-  of  llirt-c  in  pal- 
lorn  \<i.  '^mt).  itlack  jrl  linllonH  for  a<-- 
ccnl.  rf<l  u<-raiiinni><  (or  color.  \o((ii<'  I 
sij-n  No.  Km.  IHa.  k  failh-  ^.kirl.  No.  TIHT. 


I*alri«'«'  \Iiins»'l.  M<-l ropolilan's  vonn^CNl  o|M-ra  wlar.  lo>«-- 
oxoilinf;  <-olors  and  ilranialii-  cdi-ct^.  Sli«-  <l<'si^n>-  Mian>  of 

her  inatt'riiil  \  st-pa rales  licrx-lf.  I  Irr  fa\ori  t<-  rost  iimh-  for  <-ii- 

It'rlainiiiK  is  lap<M°<-il  slarks  u  i I  It  (zaN  .  anuisin;;  jackt-ls.  Il<-r<- 
sIm'  M«'ars  an  a<laplat  ion.  \  o^mc  IK-si^n  No.  7*>lt.'5.  of  a  Ix'ai  li 
ja<'ket  l>on$:lil  in  ltal>.  \\  *'  a<l<l<'<l  llir  rihlird  uool  sl(-<'\<'s  l<i 

tlu-  arnilioh's.  Itlat'k  lap<'r<-<l  slacks.  Vo^iie  Drsipn  jNn.  7671-. 


Kxoilin^  <-olor  coiiihination  in  ^a>  . 
H'asliuhle  collon.Tln-  tunic  has  a 
wide  enffed  neckline  l«>  wear  with 
or  wilhoni  the  scarf.  Vofjue  Design 
No.  7U77;  tapered  sla<  ks.  No.  7674. 


For  a  sinnin»-r  «-\«-niny  .  .  .  crisp  pi<pie 
,inni|M>r  with  a  loiif;  slim  skirt.  \<ld  rih- 
Ihui  Io  the  neckline.  l''or  winter.  tr>  it 
in  eor«luroy,  over  a  tiirllencck  sweater. 
Vofine  Desiifn  No.  7982;  Ion"  skirt.  71«7. 


1 


Vogue  Patterns  at  the  store  which  sells  them  in  your  city.  Or  order  by  maU,  enclosing  check  or  money  order.*  from  \  ogue  Pattern  Service.  Putnam 
Greenwich,  Conn.:  or  in  Canada  from  198  Spadina  Ave..  Toronto.  Ont,  Some  prices  slightly  higher  in  Canada.(«Conn.  residents  please  add  sales  tax.) 


Iy(tvel>  pink  n  HI  ire  faille  u  i  I  li  ile<  |i  <  Io  Mcar 

un  a  prett>  e\enini;  coal  or  a  i;iekcl.  Ma>  clii'X' 
with  <!liiiieM-  fro^  closinffH.  or  wilh  xiiap-  .1- 
w«"  show  it.  \o(iue  De-iun  No.  ~\").  Slim  lihii  k 
skirt.    No.   7|}t7.    Mink    iieeklianil    and  niiilf. 


I.tl  r  t  \  s   M  ASHMAN 


SHE:    /     nei^er  understand  what  Joe  saw  in  that  woman!  I  made 
him  pack  and  leave— why  should  I  live  with  a  man  who  is  unfaithful?" 

HE:  "/  m  not  clever  like  Amy,  and  she  thinks  I'm  dumb.  That  woman  meant 
nothing  to  me,  but  it  sounded  good  to  be  told  I  was  a  big  shot." 


FIFTH  OF  A  SERIES 


Relatively  few  broken  homes  are  actually  caused  by 
''the  other  ivoman'';  but  when  a  triangle  is  invalided,  the 
problem  is  often  handled  almost  as  badly  as  possible  by  the 
"innocent^''  partner.  She  is  usually  quite  unable  ( or 
unwilling)  to  recognize  that  she  herself  may  be  largely  to 
blame  for  everything  that  has  happened.  Mrs.  Inez  Drane 
was  the  counselor  :  i  this  case.  Not  every  triangle  can 
be  taken  to  pieces  in  the  way  that  she  helped  Amy  and 
Joe  to  handle  this  one;  but  few  marriages  would  be  destroyed 
by  a  third  person  if  every  husband  and  wife  recognized 
the  real  factors  involved.  Paul  Popenoe,  Director. 


Amy  tells  her  side: 

"She  isn't  even  pretty,"  thirty-four-year- 
old  Amy  said  to  the  marriage  counselor  in 
bitter  hurt  and  bewilderment.  "She's  at  least 
seven  or  eight  years  older  than  I  am  and 
twenty  pounds  heavier.  She's  been  married 
three  different  times  and  couldn't  make  a  go 
of  any  of  her  marriages.  Why,  she's  so  slack 
and  irresponsible  the  welfare  people  had  to 
take  away  her  children  to  make  sure  that 
the  poor  young  ones  would  get  their  school- 
ing! She  just  didn't  bother  to  send  them. 
She  has  broken  up  my  home,"  Amy  said, 
"and  I  still  have  no  idea  how  it  happened. 
I  will  never  understand  what  Joe  saw  in 
that  woman.  Never. 

"Since  I'm  the  wife  you  probably  think 
I'm  just  being  mean  and  prejudiced,"  added 
the  small,  sweet-faced  woman  in  the  plain 
black  dress.  "But  I'm  trying  my  best  to  be 
honest  and  fair  and  straighten  out  my 
thoughts.  The  trouble  between  Joe  and  me 
came  to  a  head  five  months  ago,  and  I  should 
be  getting  my  balance  by  now  but  1  haven't. 
I  still  feel  stunned  and  in  a  daze,  like  some- 
body who's  been  knocked  down  by  a  truck. 
I  doubt  I  ever  will  get  over  the  night  my 
husband  told  me  what  he'd  done. 

"For  quite  a  while,"  Amy  continued,  "I 
had  noticed  Joe  seemed  to  be  out  of  sorts, 
that  he  wasn't  keeping  his  mind  on  our  busi- 
ness— we  operate  a  cleaning  shop — but  I 
didn't  pay  too  much  attention.  Joe  has 
moods.  Then  this  night  came  when  he  and  I 
'  worked  until  eleven  o'clock,  an  hour  later 
than  usual.  Joe  seemed  so  tired  that  I  swept 
out  the  shop.  We  always  sweep  before  we 
lock  up,  and  it's  his  job.  While  I  balance  the 
petty-cash  account,  he  sweeps.  When  I 
picked  up  the  broom  Joe  suddenly  snapped 
at  me  and  asked  why  the  sweeping  couldn't 
wait  until  morning.  Well,  I  was  surprised. 
Ordinarily  my  husband  is  a  sunny-tempered 
man  and  we  almost  never  quarrel  or  disagree. 
I  guess  we're  too  busy.  Anyway,  after  I  fin- 
ished sweeping,  Joe  was  still  sitting  hunched 
up  in  a  chair  and  he  looked  terribly  blue  and 
down-at-mouth.  So  I  went  and  kissed  him. 
With  that,  he  broke  down  and  the  whole 
truth  came  tumbling  out. 

"Joe  had  been  seeing  this  woman  in  the 
afternoons,"  Amy  said,  "when  he  was  sup- 

Amy  was  largely  responsible  for  Joe's  infidelity. 
She  never  took  time  to  be  a  wife. 


Dr.  Paul  Popenoe 


posed  to  be  making  deliveries.  She  was  a 
customer  of  the  shop.  The  thing  had  been 
going  on  for  weeks,  and  that's  why  Joe  had 
seemed  so  queer  and  notional  to  me.  He'd 
been  thinking  about  her.  Of  course  he  de- 
nied that.  He  declared  up  and  down  he  was 
through  with  the  woman,  and  that  much  I 
did  believe.  He  begged  me  to  forgive  him. 
Joe  seemed  to  think  his  being  'through' 
should  make  a  difference. 

"So  far  as  I'm  concerned,"  Amy  said  to 
the  counselor,  "Joe's  being  sorry  hasn't  got 
anything  to  do  with  it.  What  does  it  matter 
that  he's  through?  Why  was  there  a  begin- 
ning? By  his  own  behavior  Joe  has  wrecked 
my  faith  in  him  and  humbled  me  in  my  own 
eyes.  Why  should  I  live  with  a  man  who  has 
been  unfaithful  to  me?  I  wasn't  brought  up 
to  take  infidelity  as  a  light  thing.  In  my  fam- 
ily, and  in  Joe's  family,  too,  wives  expect 
fidelity.  Otherwise,  what  is  a  marriage?  Joe 
and  I  are  both  churchgoers,  or  we  used  to  be 
when  we  were  young  and  had  time  for 
church.  His  principles  are  the  same  as  mine. 
You  can  ask  Joe  whether  he  thinks  my  atti- 
tude is  justified.  He  will  tell  you  it  is. 

"The  night  I  learned  the  truth,"  she  said, 
T  made  him  pack  his  things  and  leave  our 
house.  I  couldn't  bear  to  be  under  the  same 
roof  with  him.  Since  we  have  always  worked 
together,  I  have  to  see  him  in  the  shop  every 
day.  Naturally  I  don't  intend  to  deprive  my 
husband  of  his  livelihood  or  his  half  of  our 
property.  But  he  and  I  discuss  nothing  but 
business  matters. 

"What  could  have  got  into  Joe?"  Amy 
cried  out.  "How  could  he  have  forgotten  all 
the  things  we've  done  together?  When  we 
got  married  fifteen  years  ago  Joe  was  just  a 
presser,  working  for  somebody  else.  It  was 
his  ambition  to  own  his  own  place,  but  he 
was  scared  of  debt.  Neither  of  our  families 
had  ever  owned  so  much  as  a  piece  of  string. 
I  thought  if  other  people  .could  rise  in  the 
world  so  could  we,  and  I  talked  some  spunk 
into  Joe.  In  fear  and  trembling  we  got  us  a 
note  from  the  bank  and  bought  our  first  little 
place.  Well,  each  year  since  we've  shown  a 
profit.  Today  we  otm  our  business  free  and 
clear,  and  it's  the  biggest  and  best  cleaning- 
tailoring  (Conlinited  on  Page  92) 


FROM  THE  CHESTER  DALE  COLLECTION 


Every  picUne  by  an  arlist  of  deep  feel- 
ing is  itself  a  piece  of  aulobiography.  The 
painting  reproduced  was  finished  less  than 
a  month  before  \'incent  van  Gogh  com- 


YOUNG  PEASANT  GIRL 

VINCENT  VAN  GOGH  (1853-90) 

niitled  suicide.  He  had  been  released  from 
the  asylum  at  St.-Remy  and  had  placed  him- 
self in  the  care  of  Doctor  Gachet  at  Auvers- 
sur-Oise.  It  was  the  last  stage  in  a  losing 


battle,  the  last  efifort  to  paint  and  remain 
sane.  It  had  cost  him  dearly,  this  combat  of 
genius  and  madness.  It  had  begun  in  Holland 
(Continued  on  Page  102) 


rOMCLIT!«IOIV 

WHEN  the  party  was  over  and  before  I  went 
to  bed  I  walked  around  the  deck.  The  ship 
was  taking  back  her  ghdjng,  dolphin  motion 
while  the  fog  thinned  awa^  on  the  sharpening 
air.  At  morning  a  land  wind  was  making  white- 
capfe  in  Plymouth  Sound  and  when  I  came  on 
deck  again  in  the  early,  wild  light  I  forgot  what 
errand  I  had  started  on.  Devonshire  was  straight 
to  starboard  and  at  such  distance  the  moorland 
miles  of  it  looked  like  a  single,  billowy  lea,  still 
wintered — still  fawn-colored — here  and  there, 
but  golden-green  on  all  its  gentle  crests  and 
along  its  lovely  folds  that  reached  around  the 
dotted,  Lilliput  strip  of  Plymouth  to\\  n.  It  sur- 
prised me  to  taste  the  marshy  wind  and  feel  the 
solid  rail  at  my  hand,  because  in  a  dream  touch- 
ing and  tasting  are  empty,  and  this  place  lying 
out  so  clear  and  fair  across  the  dark  water 
seemed  not  at  all  to  be  a  foreign  land  but  some- 
thing remembered  or  imagined. 

Later,  as  we  went ,  in  aboard  our  tender,  I 
could  see  that  the  town  was  really  a  city  and 
laid  along  a  promontory  bet\\een  two  inlets  of 
the  harbor.  Small  naval  craft,  a  submarine  and 
a  destroyer,  were  afloat  in  the  far-side  bay  and 
coming  to  this  place  was  no  longer  dreamlike. 
But  still,  while  we  passed  among  the  fishing 
boats  and  yachts  and  the  spray  glittered  off  our 


prow  and  the  sun  warmed  me,  still  1  had  a  feel- 
ing of  remembrance,  and  the  old  fortress  at  the 
end  of  the  spit  was  somehow  an  expected,  fa- 
miliar thing.  Like  the  narrow  roads  between  the 
hedgerows  going  up  to  London.  Mrs.  Heyward 
had  the  Rolls  delivered  to  meet  us,  and  even 
having  lo  sludy  the  maps  and  be  so  watchful, 
dri\  iiig  1(1 1-sided,  I  noticed  how  natural  and  be- 
fitting everything  was.  I  never  could  lose  this 
impression,  even  when  I  got  to  know  those 
English  people  who  made  no  bones  about  let- 
ting me  know  what  an  oddity  I  was. 

Often  in  London,  late  at  night  in  the  kitchen 
of  the  small,  elegant,  old-fashioned  Connaught 
Hotel,  I  drank  tea  with  the  porter  and  certain 
valets  and  maids.  These  assured  worldlings 
dealt  with  me  more  severely,  1  noticed,  than 
they  did  with  the  French  chef  who  sometimes 
stayed  on.  Afterwhile  I  understood.  The  chef 
was  out-and-out  foreign  and  was  therefore  both 
hopeless  and  independent;  but  I  had  come  from 
that  American  colony  which,  although  it  was 
overgrown  and  overblessed  with  riches,  had 
been  steadily  going  to  the  devil  ever  since 
Cornwallis'  surrender.  I  never  let  them  know 
that  I  had  needed  to  get  used  to  New  York  and 
in  London  straightway  found  the  counterpart 
to  my  young  (Continued  on  Page  170) 


Copyrieht.  to^S.  by  May  Davie?  Martr-net.  The 


1  to  be  published  by  Alfred  A.  Kniipf.  Inc 


/  might  have  been  furniture  for  the 
icay  they  were  in  each  other's  nrnis  iienin. 


64 


A  grouping  of  Pacific  sea  shells  makes  a  perma- 
nent table  centerpiece;  is  especially  attractive 
filled  with  tinr  rosebuds  and  narcissus  hlossoms. 


An  antique  jootcd  silver  serving  dish  is 
the  basis  for  a  IovcIy  arrangement  of  ten 
carnations  arourul  a  fat  beeswax  candle. 


Mary  Lord  pours  coffee  in  her  library  after  dinner. 


Beloiv:  Here,  only  six  anemones  were  used,  massed 
in  the  center  of  an  antique  gilded  picture  frame. 


3Mary  ixtrd 

tellH  her  philosophy 
of  entertaining  to 


MtfJTH  MiLLS  TEAGUE 


'T  MUST  be  decidedly  gregarious,  because  I  really  love  to  entertain 
J.  and  I  thoroughly  enjoy  my  own  parties.  I  plan  like  anything  beforehand — 
there's  no  substitute  for  that — but  once  the  party  gets  going  I  relax  and  have 
a  really  wonderful  time,"  says  Mary  Lord. 

Our  newest  delegate  to  the  United  Nations,  recently  appointed 
by  President  Eisenhower  to  take  Mrs.  Roosevelt's  seat,  seemed  happy  to  pass  along 
for  Journal  readers  some  of  her  ideas  on  entertaining.  The  career  of  Mary  Pillsbury  Lord, 
Mrs.  Oswald  B.  Lord,  as  it's  sketched  in  Who's  Who  in  America,  is  impressive, 
ranging  from  director  of  the  Metropolitan  Opera  Guild  through  a  long  series  of  charitable 
and  public  activities  and  during  the  last  presidential  campaign  she  was  cochairman  of 
the  Citizens'  Committee  for  Eisenhower  and  Nixon.  But  at  home      (Continued  on  Page  158) 


Before-the-theater  supper  menu: 
assorted  hors  d'oeuvres, 
curried  turkey  amandine  ivith  toast 
points,  pctiis  fours  and  coffee. 


4 


Mv  wilr  riiii;:til  the  I'oiihI  -  Itrrl  Iniliil 
from  lire  |ki  wIicii  il  ciihI  '<()  itiiIh  a 
|i*)iiii<l.  and  wlicii  lin  iiiullii'r  i  "iilil  liii'i- 
a  f;t)<Hl  rook  at  S()  a  wcrk.  No  womlii 
slic  raii'l  lii'lii'xr  I  likr  iiiimI  Io.iI. 


On  mv  rriiisr  on  the  htilllrsliiii  liniii  I 
noticed  the  gohs  <itc  mil  hiittrr.  nliilr  llir  ^ 
officers  smeared  their  lonsl  with  oleo  to  elir  ' 
out  their  fooil  (dlon  ance.  { llnnpry  xounfi 
cnsiffns  might  leangh'  ii  hetneen-metils  snacl 
from  the  ereie's  pnntries!) 


Wlicu  we're  touriiif;  I  like  to  slop  al  road- 
side polterv  displavs  and  sliop  lor  a  |)air  oi 
yellow  or  tunitioise  vases  lor  our  Iront  door- 
step. But  niy  Dream  (V\\  \  blarneys  nie  out  ol 
it.  (Only  piece  of  pottery  I've  ever  aetnally 
houijiit  was  a  liirdlialh  siie  vearned  for!) 


I'm  sorely  lemfited  to  modernize  and  lilr 
Junior's  third-floor  Ixithroom.  n<:\l  to  his 
bedroom,  the  best  bedroom  in  the  house. 
(That's  mv  scheme  to  keep  him  ont  of  my 
linniodernizetl  Ixisenirnt  bath.) 


Our  vouiifiest  lias  mastered  our  movie 
projector,  ipiile  behind  my  bitck:  and  before 
we  get  back  I'rom  a  trip  he  sees  our  color 
movies  sent  back  via  the  lab.  .  .  .  Often  he 
tells  us  things  about  our  trip  we've  forgot- 
ten. (Like  tiie  time  I  saddled  a  San  Gertrudis 
bull  at  Daytona  Beach!)  l'^ 

Thank  goodness  our  red-huireil  duu»hter 
isn't  as  seirelire  (dmnt  her  rnemorv-book 
trophies  as  she  used  to  be.  I  can  learn  more 
about  her  in  an  hour's  brousini:  tluiit  I 
could  in  a  teen-asie  rear. 


Don't  e\*'r  kid  yourself  tliat  men  areu  l 
elothe.'-eonseiousi  1  can  still  renumber  the 
pink  shirt  and  brown  silk  tie  Ambassador 
Bruce  was  wearing  with  his  sand-tan  gab- 
ardine suit  wiien  1  saw  him  at  the  enii)ass\ 
in  Paris!  (And  I'll  bet  t  wo  or  three  of  m\ 
eoinpanions  that  da>  lia\e  co|)ied  the  cos- 
tume!) 


'  //  \omr  III  ihi-  niii  \  in  mii  blml,,  iiiiii  ■ 
mills  ltrll\  (  oniliiil.li\infiloinlilinnitiil\ 
Miiiiiiii  in  II  iiiiii  IIS  lull  k-\iii  il  t  hull .  iindi'i- 
\lood  lion  a  rhifiliil  iiHidsiilf  iiiiilii  ss  ran 
dnilblr  hri  lijis  llllll  II  Mlllli;  tlir\  might  illl- 
jil  ni  !■  llifli  fiii-ii  I  liM  I.  Ill  liliniiir  llllll  lliiii 
liiislmiid'y. 

• 

I  d  li.iM  WMiii  noliod\  roulil  leach  nie 
aiivlliing  about  hash.  It's  my  favorite  di-li- 
ciic\,  and  I  aKva\s  carrv  a  couple  of  cati-  in 
our  picnic  kit.  Imagine  mv  -hock  Mlieii  I 
learned  there  are  two  kinds  of  liiuied  hash 
corned-beef  hash  and  ^lasl-beel  lia-li!  Fine 
gourmet!  (Aclualls.  there  mn~l  \»-  thou- 
sands of  dilfcrcnt  liaNlu'-I) 


By  this  time  I  can  recogmze  the  roices  of 
all  the  eager  salesgirls  who  fdione  to  tell  my 
Best-Drcs.'ied  ff'oman  that  a  honey  of  a 
dress  has  just  arrived  aii/l  they  can  just 
i'AA'  her  in  il.  I'm  nerving  myself  to  Irll 
'em  it's  my  turn  to  buy  a  iieic  suit! 


II  m\  I ,ad\  lo\  e  carric>  out  lii-r  t  hi  i  at  to 
wear  th<'  pedomctiT  I  ga\c  her  lor  (!hii>t- 
mas  to  find  out  bow  manv  mile-  >hc  walk- 
al  her  hoiisew ork.  I  II  has  e  to  blueprint  her 
chores  to  reduce  her  mileage!  Or  "modern- 
i/.<'    our  kitchen  —  or  help  with  the  dishes. 


I  ollcn  dream  of  surprising  mv  Dream  (Jirl 
li\  |ilanting  seeretK  some  rare  and  cxolic 
(lowers  in  her  garden,  as  intricate  and  fragile 
as  snow  flakes  or  John  Sharp's  blossoms.  She 
knows  of  this  davdream  and  savs  she  ll  be 
astounded  if  I  plant  anything. 


M.I'.Ih  >(I  I.I   ..IK    |.,v.  li-|i<-o|l|f  wl|l> 

ran  I  draw  a  cow  arc  now  pamiing  ax  a 
liobliN.  I  iKHiglil  a  gi-tuiinc  liuiid'|ianilr<l  wa- 
ter color  \i\  our  leading  lav*  vrr  la  I  .S.  wrui- 
lor'ii  Ndii  too)  for  .'{.I  ecniii.  Me  ctaiinx  llul 
.illoui-d  him  II  l.'i.ri-nl  profit. 


//  //V  on  riirtli  diM-%  il  ii'x  mv  iiifitiir  (^irrn 
if  I  lirag  that  uilh  Iff  lover  mnsliiil  /Mitnlurt  I 
run  miilir  Itrttrr  virliYMii.w  for  'Jttrrnis  for  llir 
whole  family  than  wr  buy  for  fl.2<J fur  thn  Inn 
of  us  in  a  Miank  hotel?'  (Thirkrr.  ami  mnrr 
Ireks  too.  I 


Vl  iIk'  -lioppiiig-crnlcr  -itda  foiiiitain 
our  drug-lorr  pbil<isopli<T  allo«««  ib.il  iiiar- 
ried  I ifr  -hold) I  Ill-gin  and  end  in  a  foiir-rooiii 
collate  or  a  .-mall  aparlmeiit.  "Mavlw  we 
ni-i-d  a  bigger  lioiiM*  in  between."  he  sayn, 
"but  a  foiir-in-onr*  -tiidio  kitchi-ni'tte  Ih 
what  iiewKwrd-'  grandpari-nl-  ni-<-d. 

*\\  lib  -ink.  "frig.  [iantr\  and  stove 
srpii-e/i-d  into  ilic  space  of  an  ll-o<'tave 
piaiKi. 

W  hen  Junior  leaves  a  pint  of  his  teen-age 
blood  at  the  Red  Ooss  blood  bank  .  .  . 

Or  \  our  daughter  turns  out  to  know  her 
Itilile  belter'u  grandpa  .  .  . 

\nd  \our  \oungest  phones  you  long  dis- 
tance in  (^ilifornia  that  the  neighbor's 
pnppv  was  run  fiver  .  .  . 

And  on  the  doleful  third  day  of  your  nine- 
hunilrcil-ealorie  diet  your  Dream  Girl  of- 
fers vou  a  spoonful  of  her  Boston  cream 
pie  .  .  . 

Then  you  grin  and  stop  feeling  down- 
trodden in  vour  own  living  room  with  such  a 
lamilv  of  fascinatin"  individualists. 


By  Harlan  Miller 


Pt'^gy  Douglass^  honeymoon  snapshot  shows 
how  pretty  she  looked  as  a  tiny-tvaisted,  slim-figured  bride. 


People  are  saying,  "Isn't  it  too  bad  Peggy  has  got- 
ten so  fat  since  Shellev  was  born — poor  Bill  must  be 
so  disillusioned.  "  Mv  husband  rarely  asks  me  out 
any  more,  which  proves  he  is  disillusioned.  But  I  ain 
ashamed  to  admit  until  reading  your  story  in  the 
Journal,  I  have  done  nothing  but  moon  over  my 
excessive  weight. 

I  am  21  years  old,  5'7"  tall,  and  weigh  I98J  2  lbs. 
When  I  was  married  33^  years  ago,  I  weighed  133,  had 
a  25"  waistline  and  wore  a  size  14  dress.  The  65/'2  lbs. 
excess  has  been  put  on  since  the  birth  of  my  2-year-old 
daughter.  Nowadays  I  have  to  hold  my  breath  to  zip 
into  a  size  201 2.  It  s  no  fun  feeling  like  the  chaperone 
at  a  party  when  you  are  young  enough  to  want  to  be 
the  belle!  My  aim  is  to  diet  my  way  back  to  the  figure  I 
had  when  Bill  and  I  were  married  (honeymoon  snap- 
sly)t  enclosed).  Thank  you  in  advance  for  every 
pound  I  lose. 

Xttrvmht'r  .*/.  Hf.'iS! 

I  have  lost  20  lbs.  in  two  months!  At  178,-2  I  am 
still  no  beauty-threat  to  my  slim-figured  friends,  but 
at  least  I  am  down  to  a  373^"  bust,  30^"  waist,  41 J  2" 
hips,  and  an  18  dress  size. 

After  a  thorough  physical  examination  which  proved 
I  was  in  excellent  health,  my  doctor  gave  me  a  list  of 
diet  foods  to  choose  from  with  instructions  to  eat 
moderate  portions,  and  not  to  exceed  1200  calories  a 
day.  In  addition,  he  attached  this  cheery  little  mes- 
sage: "For  your  horror  I  enclose  a  sheet  showing  the 
caloric  values  of  the  common  'snacks' — read  them 
and  resist  them!'' 

As  a  past  master  at  excusing  my  displeasing  plump- 
ness with  anything  from  "It's  natural  to  put  on  weight 
after  motherhood"  to  "I  must  eat  and  keep  up  my 
strength  for  Shelley's  sake,"  I  couldn't  have  had  bet- 
ter advice.  For  my  horror  (help)  at  the  start  of  my 
diet,  I  made  up  my  own  list  of  the  extras  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  eating  in  a  day,  without  ever  sitting  down  to 
a  regular  meal.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  bigger  warning- 
to-weight-watchers  ? 


I" 


BY  DAWN  CROWELL  NORMAN 

Beauty  Editor  of  the  Journal 


With  each  tipw  child  da  yoit  en  joy  the  pleasurable  ilividetid  of  rediscovering  your 
pre-baby  ivtiisi  liiiey  Or  (Ui  you  find  as  your  family  expatifis  your  figure  does  too? 

Among  the  hundreds  of  letters  the  Journal  Diet  Department  has  received  from  mothers  who 
attribute  their  excessive  iveight  to  having  children,  came  one  from  pretty  Peggy  Douglass,  of 
Logan,  Utah.  Thrilled  over  the  story  in  last  August's  .Journal  of  how  Helen  Fraley 
dieted  ami  lost  IMt  pounds.  Peggy  immediately  made  up  her  iniiul  to  match  the  Fraley  trill  power. 

Excerpts  from  Peggy's  letters  highlight  her  diet  [trogress  ami  point  the  ivay  to  other  mothers 
ivho  iviinl  lo  avoid  increasing  I  heir  size — as  they  increase  I  heir  families! 


.>litlm4triiin:£   .  .  .  :i  t<r»h»m  T«»  k<><'|>  Sh«>ll«>>-  fomiian^'  while  sho  haw  b<'r.*> 

«-ra4*k<>rN.  iflaNN  ol'  milk 


ll<>f<»r<>  .Sh«'ll«'>-*w  liiiK-h  .  .  . 
liciK'ritiiN  (aNi«>N  <>l' what  ■  |ir«'- 
Itart'  for  h<'r 

.\l'l<>r  Sh<'li<>>-*s  liinfl)  ...  half 
of  her  fUN<ar<l 

.>lidafl«>rnoi»  Minall 

wt'dift*  of  apiila'  ■•i<* 

.\f(«'P  ilinnt'r  .  .  .  «'<»ff«'«' 
4  «>r<'ani<'<l  aintl  .siisEart'd  )  anil 
:t  iMtokifs 


To  mak«'  Niirt'  i(  is  "proporl^-  sfasonfd*' 

I  lial<>  (o  N<><'  food  &a  lo  «%-a.xl«> 

('iKtii&ih  room  f4»r  il  in  r<'fri(£<>rator 

Hill  had  lo  «-4»rk  niifhis  lo  :£<>l  Ihroutfh  4*oll<>{f<> — 
lh<>  fvt'ninifs  w-<>r<'  so  lon<^l>-  wilhoni  Nomf- 
<liini£  lo  do 


2»0 


.10 


4(5 


1.10 


Kefor<>  bcdlini*'  ...  '2  iiand-  Ilill'N  hom«-— ho  doesn't  lik<>  lo  oal  b>-  himself! 


witth,  tuna  fish,  for  instant't' 


Total 


205 

»« 
8»8 


All  good  wishes  from  a  girl  who  looks  and  feels  a  lot  better  for  having  turned  her  between-meal  atten- 
tion from  too  many  sweets  and  starches  to  celery  stalks,  carrot  sticks,  tomato  wedges  and  cucumber  slices! 


67 


\\  liMl  M  llirill  ulicii  I  lunkril  III  till'  iMiiii.i  llu-. 
iiioi  inn;'  ami  .  niiMii  I  liml  iii\  ilmililr  rlijn.  \| 
Ills.  I  ,s\Miii  III  ms  (  liiihc-,  mill  il  Icrls  I'liiiiriH'liililc!  I 
liiiil  il  inn  III  III'  alilc  III  turn  it  "iliirii)i''.-<  ilii-i  lint"  inln 
I  luce  liisly  nicaU  a  ilay.  ( In  a  iiiiin  ii-i  ni  iciini  nij?  plan, 
iiiia^inalioii  lias  to  win  mit  hmt  tnarlvnlitiii  or  calinn 
('i)ul(l  lie  ilnll,  inilcni. 

l''or  instanrr,  my  rlioicc  oi  lor  Innrh  ami 

iliiincr  rcaiis: 

Choose  oiif:  lionillon  or  con-.  nir,  rlrar  ami  uilli- 

out  i'al. 

(.'Iioo.sr  oiiv:  l.ri\n  lircl,  lainli,  liver,  wliilr  ii-li, 
rliickt'M  or  lurkfv  (2  incditun  Hlitf.s);  i'|iii|i|h-iI  -.teak 
(I  jiatty);  coltap-  iIm-cm-  ('i  cnp);  rfijin  (2). 

Choose  two:  A.s|iaranns,  Hiring  lM-an><,  licet  nri'i'ii««, 
liiiicroli,  spiiiarli,  Hrii>M-l>  s|iroiit.s,  carrot.s.  (-alilmp-. 
r.iuiiilowfr,  lomaloi's,  Miiall  liakcil  |iiitato. 

//('//)  yourself  to:  (!c!ri\.  Iciiiu  c,  iniisin noins,  water 
nt'ss.  raw  carrots. 

Choose  one:  Hrcail  (I  slice);  \lcllia  toast  (I  slice); 
soda  crackers  (i?). 

.-Illoie  yourself  no  more  thiiii:  1  tneiliiini  pat  Imtlc  i 

(^loose  one  (I'or  liiiicli  or  ilimicr):  (iciatin;  I  slice 
|ilain  cake  witlionl  Irostiiij;;  ciistaitl  ('i'  cup);  or  se- 
lect Ironi  these  Iresli  Irnits  .  .  .  apple,  oranf;e,  peaeli, 
pear  (I);  grapeiniil,  cantaloupe.  Iioiicvilew  ('■.');  tan- 
gerines, apricots,  pinins  (2) 

Choose  one:  Tea  or  coilee.  plain. 

He  sure  to  htive:  Owe  pint  skim  milk  or  liiitlerniilk 
each  (lay. 

Here  are  seven  sample  nieiuis  which  lake  iiic 
lludiiiiii  a  week  oi  diel  lunches  or  dinners: 

Broih'd  beef  putty  on  Melhu  toast 
Lightly  buttered  fieus  unit  mushrooms 
Fresh  fruit  eompotc 
Tea  u  ilh  lemon 

Hot  consomme,  2  eraclicrs 
Tomato  stu  ffed  with  cottage  cheese  and  chopped  chii  es 
Crisp  celery  stalks 
Plain  cake 
Coffee 

Beef  stew 

(made  with  1  cup  mixed  vegetables,  \i  cup  broth) 
Tossed  green  salad 
JVhole-wheat  bread  and  butter 
Vanilla  nutmeg  custard 
Tea 

Cold  sliced  beef  or  lamb  on  lettuce,  garnished 
with  green  pepper 
Buttered  baked  potato       Green  beans 
8-oz.  glass  skim  milk 
Pear  or  apple 

Hal  f  grapefruit 
Fillet  of  sole,  lemon  juice 
Fresh  spinach       Buttered  baked  potato 
Coffee 

Fluff'}-  bacon  omelet  (bacon  saved  from  breakfast!) 
Stewed  tomatoes 
Raspberry  gelatin 
Coffee 

Hot  tomato  consomme 
Breast  of  chicken  (broiled) 
Asparagus  tips,  lemon-butter  sauce  Cauliflower 
Peach  halves 
Coffee 

For  breakfast:  Fruit  or  fruit  juice,  .'a  cup  of  cereal 
with  skim  milk  or  an  egg  or  crisp  bacon  slices  (2), 
a  slice  of  toast,  coffee.  When  I  don't  drink  skim  milk 


with  iiieiil*,  I  Miivc  il  III  ilriiiL  (Mariiiril)  iM^fnr*'  linl- 
nine,  lit  cold  oollirllliirK  mIiIi  't  l«|i.  of  VMIIllItt,  it 
dil-<li  III   niltllir^;     iliirill(j  llir  iirierniiiill. 

NaluralK  I  have  In  tivuiil  ilir  (iii  itirV*  Uir  .  .  .  iUn  i 
Knivirt,  iiiiri  li\  piiildiii)(><,  creuiii  niiiireii  iiiiil  ril'li 
ilr»iirrl».  Kill  un  yiiii  eiiii  nee.  I'ejy'V  t.n'l  i>llir\illK 
wlijle  Klir'n  lo-iiit.'  Hi-it'lil 

.#«nu  ftu  1.1.  IH.I.I 

I'lii  |iri*lly  iliiiriiiirap-ii.  Ila\r  limt  (iiily  imr  |niiiiii| 
"iiice  ( !liri«liim«  when  I  wax  daiiciii|{  mi  pink  cIhiiiIm 
for  having  (rduceil  In  I'C"^.  |)iimii^  llie  linliila\>  I 
felt  like  a  iiinv  je  xiar  wearing'  the  ^iaiiiomiiH  lioiixecoal 
Kill  ^il\e  ine.  hearing  ImimiiI«  and  relatiM-"  tell  iiie  how 
slim  and  pretiv  I  looked!  W  hal'«  happeneil  to  itiv  will 
|iower?  I'm  ^ood  ahoiit  iii\  diet  iiiilil  iimlalternnnii. 
Iiiit  once  nn  work  dniie  (vnii  can  mop  tinnrx  nr  do 
lanndrv  onl\ once  a  da\ !),  I  liuvellial  nld\eariiiii|2  lor 
Komelliin^  sweet  to  satisfy  iiiv  ap|M-tite  until  dinner- 
time.  I've  started  feeling  son  \  t"i  nn  i  ll  lln"  •  m  I 
fjel  out  oi'  this  rut? 

•lunuiiru  'J.'t.  Iff.'i:! 
I  ha\e  lii~l  .)  more  poiiml-,1  I  lie  lililo  ,111'  ;{oiic.  It  i-> 
reassuring  to  know  most  dieters  reach  a  plateau  where 
the  scales  stand  discniiragingly  still.  As  mv  doctor 
savs,  there  is  no  rea.Hiiii  to  expect  to  lose  weight  in 
iiniiorm  amounts.  He  explains  this  hy  addin;,': 
"Mtliouf^li  tat  is  lost  at  a  relalivelv  constant  rale. 
I  here  are  irri-giilar  and  nnprediclahle  periods  w  hen 
more  llian  the  iisiial  ainoiiiil  ol  water  i-  retained  in 
(he  liod\.   \l  llic~e  liiMcn  weifihi  remains  con-'lanl." 


Kr**!!  In  I  V  ell,  |  am  n»w.  siwl  il'*  fun. 

I  li.nr  It  Ili-H     IikIiIiv        •iirln  iiUI  "i»\\s" 

I  li,|li>-»  In  pivr  llir  ^.'lU<lti>ili   \  iii((iM)l.  M\ 

I  ^•l|nll 

.1  ]««'■/ 

M>  nid  xkli  <i  nvrt  liiv  hi|M  In  liir  II^Mir. 

I  p'l  mil  III  I  ■    II. '.r.-  ..fteii   Ino.  Till* 

■  ^Irii  wei(;lil,  llir  riinre  Jn  |  .u|i|  tter  nir  riilll|» 

vtilll  Sliellry  in  llie  yard'  >  <  Mne*  I  »\tfnt\  a  frM 
hour*  •diii|i|iiiif(  (il'M  iiiiK'h  mnrr  fun  Mrhrn  ymi  can  ((rl 
inln  llie  preilv,  i>lirii<*i/cd  e|iilh(*it),  nr  I  tiail  friciidk 
or  attend  a  rliili  iiieriin^'.  One  ui'livily  leailK  In  an' 
other.  Ml  of  iheiii  are  i  niiihiniiif;  In  Kliniiilalr  niy  in- 
terei>i  III  oilier  lliiiif;"  iiiid  keep  my  mind  nfT \\\e  {imh\ 
I  know  I  dnn'l  tWf.A, 

rm  u.  limn 

I  wi  'iiiijii  M-e  till*  new  pii'il\  die.,  j  ani 

wearing  In  ihe  dinner  danee  at  llie  chili  lmii(;til  -  tl't  ■ 
HV/v  Id  und  nnw  that  I'm  down  In  I  Wi  llm.,  I  ran 
into  il  willinui  a  xlruf^ie.  Ih  it  |Miitiiilili-  only  fivi* 
iiimilhs  u^'o  I  weighed  clnM-  In  2'N)  |Hiiindii  and  nfViT 
liiiil  an  iiivilalinn  frnni  my  luiHliand  In  dn  anylliin|{ 
more  exeiliiif;  than  hide  awav  in  a  daikened  ti\tt\'if'{ 
Nnw  I  can  t  keep  track  ofniir  sneial  en^agemenih  .  .  . 
nr  the  enmpliments  that  come  my  way. 

Onlv  1.")  Ills,  to  Inse  In-fore  I  reach  my  Mredilinf!-<iav 
wei;.'ht.  I  know  it  will  Im-  eai»y  now.  for  eating  mixler- 
atels  has  liecnine  a  lialiit  which  alreadv  has  me  in 
heller  lieallli  and  sjiirits.  I  hn|ie  yon  will  lie  us  prmid 
a.v  iin  hiislmnd  ami  I  are  of  nr.  "hefori- "  ind  "imi 
(|uite-after"  measurement- 


By  ANN  BATCHELDER 


WHEN  I  was  a  little  girl,  it  was  quite  the  thing  to  make 
little  May  baskets  and,  early  on  May  Day,  go  out  and 
hang  them  on  the  doorknobs  of  other  boy  and  girl  play- 
mates, leaving  no  sign  or  signal  as  to  the  maker  and 
donor.  Such  tokens  spoke  of  love.  And  love,  in  those 
days,  was  an  emotion  that  was  supposed  to  be  kept  to 
the  smitten  heart  alone.  It  was  not  brought  out  and  ex- 
amined and  discussed,  as  it  is  today,  wilh  the  utmost  in 
frankness  and  uninhibition.  And  sometimes  it's  good 
to  take  "a  backward  look  o'er  traveled  roads"  and 
wish  that  the  May-basket  idea  might  be  revived.  With 
all  the  violets  and  arbutus  and  lovely  little  flowers  that 
still  grow  in  the  woods  and  on  the  mossy  banks,  as  they 
grew  in  other  days.  To  speak  the  subtle  language  of 
love,  which  is  a  language  all  its  own. 

AND  WE  SHALL  FEEL  SPRIGHTLY.  NoW  is  a  gOod  time, 

a  very  meet  and  welcome  time,  to  be  as  sprightly  as 
a  May  morning.  Let's  start  the  old-fashioned  festive 
day  with  "going  a-Maying."  It  is  a  special  day  for  the 
fishermen,  you  know,  so  why  not  make  it  a  real  holiday 
for  everyone?  We  have  varied  the  May-basket  theme  in 
our  table  decoration  in  the  right-hand  corner  of  this 
picture.  Instead  of  baskets  there  are  low  pots  of  tiny- 
leafed  ivy.  Little  glass  tubes  came  from  the  florists— 
the  kind  that  are  used  in  making  corsages  of  orchids 
and  such.  The  tubes  were  filled  with  nosegays  and 
arranged  among  the  ivy  in  the  pots. 
CALL  ME!  WHAT  IS  EARLY?  Well,  the  early  bird  that,  no 

matter  what  he  does  to  the  (Conlinned  on  Page  194) 


STUART-FOWLKR 


T 


Portrnit  of  W  iUiam  Allen,  aped  tiro,  pninteil  hv  W  illinm  Malllii'ir  Prior  in  1843. 


1  First  day — May  Day:  and  the  second  Sunday  is 
Mother's  Day.  O,  Mother !  How  many  Mays  have 
come  and  gone  since  the  broken  windows  of  our  youth ! 
And  now  another  rolls  around.  And  that's  the  truth. 

2  I  'II  tell  you  sometliing  good !  Cut  fresh  ripe  straw- 
berries, arrange  them  in  a  handsome  glass  bowl  to  look 
like  a  gorgeous  crown  of  shiny  red  glow. 

3  And  now  in  the  center  of  the  crown  put  a  full-blown 
rose  or  sunflower  of  orange  ice  or  sherbet.  Chill.  Serve 
with  little  spongecakes  —  the  tiniest  ones  —  sprinkled 
with  powdered  sugar.  Fit  for  a  queen — crown  and  all ! 

4  If  you  want  cheese  for  lunch,  here's  a  new  one  in 
cheese  spreads.  Cream  together  '  2  cup  of  any  grated 
cheese,  '  2  cup  butter  or  margarine  and  1  teaspoon  each 
of  anchovy  paste,  caraway  seeds,  chopped  capers  or 
gherkins,  chopped  olives.  Add  1  clove  of  garlic  crushed 
with  a  little  salt — and  some  paprika. 

a  Chapter  2:  I  told  you  to  cream  everything  together, 
and  cream  it  nice  and  smooth.  Don't  be  hasty.  Store  it 
in  the  refrigerator  for  at  least  24  hours.  Then  spread  a 
thick  layer  between  slices  of  bread  and  brown  quickly 
on  both  sides  under  the  broiler.  Good  and  brown.  Good 
and  hot  outside,  cool  inside. 

H  When  you  have  that  leftover  complex  and  the  issue 
is  ham,  here's  a  thought  for  the  day :  Chop  enough  ham 
to  make  1  cupful,  add  a  can  of  cream-style  corn  and  a 
couple  of  eggs,  slightly  beaten.  Season  to  taste.  Melt  a 
little  butter  or  margarine  in  a  skillet.  Cook  the  mixture 
over  low  heat,  as  you  would  scrambled  eggs,-  until  the 
eggs  are  set,  but  not  hard  or  dry.  Have  them  creamy. 
Use  toast  fingers  well  buttered  (I  mean  the  toast, 
Myrtle)  and  sprinkle  with  chives  or  celery  salt. 

7  Canned  tomatoes  and  canned  tomato  soup  are  quite 
improved  if,  as  you  heat  them,  you  drop  in  a  slice  of 
onion.  And  basil?  You'll  never  forget  that,  I  know. 

5  To  beautiful,  fluffy  rice  served  with  any  kind  of  beef 
dish,  try  adding  a  touch  of  chili  powder  with  the  but- 
ter. Improves  it  like  a  nail  in  a  loose  shingle. 

O  I  have  been  told  and  have  tried  twenty-two  ways  to 
peel  onions  without  making  the  eyes  run.  The  only 
foolproof  way,  says  the  person  who  sent  the  latest,  is 
to  give  up  onions.  The  only  truly  definite  way  is  to  like 
onions  and  get  some  handkerchiefs. 

10  I  had  cooked  rice  on  my  mind  a  while  back.  Well, 
just  remember  something  else.  And  it  has  to  do  with 
strawberries  again  too.  They  come  around  only  once 
a  year  like  most  good  things.  The  fresh  ones,  I  mean. 


11  What  I  mean  about  rice  is  that  it  makes  a  l'>vely 
dessert  whe.i  hard  sauce,  flavored  and  favored  with 
crushed  strawberries,  i*;  used  as  a  deco;ation  and  part 
of  the  dish  on  hot  cooked  rice.  Cookies  seem  to  go 
along  with  this  dish. 

12  Toad-in-the-hole  is  one  of  the  oldest  frauds  that 
we  know  of.  Whoever  named  it  had  some  imagination. 
Hand  her  that.  Well,  if  you've  got  to  know,  here  it  is. 
Arrange  in  a  baking  dish  some  sausages,  and  partially 
cook  them.  Drain  off  most  of  the  fat.  Now  whip  up  a 
receipt  of  Yorkshire  pudding.  Pour  the  batter  over  the 
sausages.  Bake  as  you  always  bake  a  Yorkshire  pud- 
ding. 

13  Chicken-noodle  soup  likes  a  little  attention  on  oc- 
casion. Don't  fear  to  try.  Two  things  are  worth  trying. 
Grate  a  good  spoon  of  cheese  on  a  little  slice  of  bread, 
toast  it,  and  float  atop  the  soup.  The  other  idea— heat 
a  stick  of  cinnamon  in  the  soup.  Doesn't  take  long. 
Watch  it.  Take  it  out  before  serving.  You  thought  so 
yourselves?  Then  do  it.  Both  these  attentions  to 
chicken-noodle  soup  are  appreciated.  I  mean  one  at  a 
time.  Yes? 

14  Spinach  a  la  creme  is  just  hot  spinach  to  which 
hot  cream  is  added,  with  the  usual  seasonings. 
And  don't  forget  the  nutmeg. 

15  Crush  a  handful  of  those  little  white  after-dinner 
mints,  maybe  nine  or  ten,  and  fold  gently  into  ^  2  cup 
heavy  cream,  whipped.  Add  a  drop  or  two  of  vanilla. 
Serve  atop  a  chocolate  pie — or  a  chocolate  pudding. 
Good,  too,  on  a  chocolate  bread  pudding.  It's  that 
chocolate-peppermint  flavor. 

IH  Some  good  soul  and  good  cook  sent  in  to  the're- 
ception  department  (mine)  a  receipt  for  a  sauce  for 
cottage  pudding  or  stale  spongecake,  and  I  tried  it  and 
liked  it,  only  I  was  out  of  cake  and  had  to  borrow  some 
from  Mrs.  P.J.  next  door.  (The  cake  wasn't  bad.)  And 
here  is  the  sauce  which  turned  in  a  good  performance, 
considering : 

17  Drain  juice  from  1  can  pitted  Ring  cherries  and 
bring  it  to  a  boil.  Add  a  pinch  of  salt,  1  tablespoon 
grated  lemon  rind  and  ^4  teaspoon  ground  cinnamon. 
Allow  to  simmer  15 minutes.  Strain.  Then  goon  to  

IB  Act  2  of  Cottage  Pudding  drama:  Gradually  add 
to  the  simmering  juice  1 '  2  teaspoons  cornstarch  mixed 
with  3  tablespoons  water.  Cook  until  clear  and  thick, 
stirring  constantly.  As  a  finale,  add  the  cherries  and 
heat  the  sauce  again.  Serve  hot,  of  course.  This  is 
curtain  and  applause  for  the  pudding.  Hear,  hear! 


iJ>  This  sandwich  is  dedicated  to  men,  on  what  theory 

1  haven't  any  idea.  Take  '2  cup  ground  ham,  one 
hard-cooked  egg,  chopped  fine,  ^4  cup  mayonnaise,  2 
tablespoons  chopped  sweet  pickles  and  1  teaspoon 
prepared  mustard.  He'll  chop  wood  all  day  on  a  couple 
of  these,  they  do  say.  Haven't  tried,  but  you  can. 

20  Lemons  are  on  my  mind.  .It's  just  that  lemon,  to 
my  way  of  thinking,  does  something  for  a  salad  that 
most  other  things  don't  do.  So  here's  a  dressing  for 
mixed  green  salad~a  cool  salad,  with  greens  very 
crisp  and  very  mixed,  all  the  way  from  romaine  to 
watercress,  if  you  can  gel  them  to  be  waiting  for  you 
in  company  at  the  market : 

21  With  great  care  add  '4  cup  lemon  juice  to  2  table- 
spoons mayonnaise.  Next  add  1  cup  salad  oil  and  1  tea- 
spoon salt,  plus  I4  teaspoon  each  of  pepper,  dry  mus- 
tard and  paprika.  Just  before  you  toss,  add  '  ■>  cup 
chopped  green  onions  and  1  hard-cooked  egg,  also 
chopped,  or  need  I  tell  you  so? 

22  Speaking  of  sauces,  for  those  with  a  sweet  tooth 
here's  a  thought,  tried  and  true.  Make  a  good  bowlfi 
of  whipped  cream,  sweetened  to  taste  and  with  vanilla 
added,  then  sprinkle  into  it  some  preserved  ginger, 
finely  chopped.  Serve  on  whatever  you  have  handy — 
cake,  cookies,  or,  if  you're  of  a  mind  to,  vanilla  ice 
cream.  At  the  very  last,  if  you  can  wait  that  long,  pour 
little  threads  of  sirup  from  the  ginger  on  the  mound 
of  ice  cream.  Write  me  a  note  later. 

23  Ever  go  to  Mexico?  Alas,  not  I.  But  we  may  have 
Mexican  chocolate,  just  the  same.  Melt  1  square  un- 
sweetened chocolate,  add  4  teaspoons  sugar,  2  tea- 
spoons browned  crushed  blanched  almonds — and  make 
sure  they  are  really  crushed,  not  just  hashed  in  lumps. 
Pour  in  gradually  '  2  cup  water  and  1 '  .2  cups  milk. 
Simmer  all  together  for  at  least  10  minutes  and  add 
some  almond  extract.  Don't  be  stingy.  Then  go  to  it 
with  the  rotary  beater  until  it  is  frothy. 

2  i  Turn  canned  tomato  Madrilene  into  a  bowl  and 
chill  until  it  begins  to  jell.  Fold  in  some  finely  chopped 
raw  tomato.  Return  to  the  refrigerator  until  com- 
pletely jellied.  Nice  first  course  for  dinner. 

25  To  1 2  cup  melted  butter  or  margarine  add  1 2  cup 
dry  bread  crumbs.  Brown  lightly.  Serve  on  cooked 
asparagus  or  green  beans  instead  of  melted  butter. 

2<i  Make  up  a  package  of  blueberry-muffin  mix — add 
a  handful  of  chopped  walnuts.  Bake  as  usual.  But  good ! 

27  Teatime  stuff:  Cream  "^i  cup  brown  sugar,  6  table- 
spoons butter  or  margarine  and  2  tablespoons  finely 
chopped  crystallized  ginger.  Spread  on  slices  of  toast. 
Arrange  on  a  baking  sheet  and  toast  in  a  hot  oven  until 
the  spread  melts  and  bubbles.  Cut  into  triangles  for 
serving.  And  serve  hot. 

211  Have  I  told  you  to  add  just  a  little  grated  lemon 
rind  to  lemonade?  Well,  you  try  it  someday.  They  tell 
me  it  adds  vitamins.  Anyway,  it  adds  flavor. 

2!>  Hamburgers  coming  up.  Divide  ground  beef  into 
the  required  number  of  portions.  To  each  portion  add 
1  tablespoon  commercial  sour  cream,  1  tablespoon 
chili  sauce,  teaspoon  Worcestershire.  Mix  lightly 
but  well.  Broil  as  usual. 

30  Underripe  tomatoes  will  ripen  as  well  in  a  dark 
cupboard  as  on  a  window  sill.  Try  it  and  see. 

31  Have  you  ever  made  a  salad  with  sliced  oranges 
and  paper-thin  onion  slices?  If  not,  I'd  advise  it.  A 
French  dressing  goes  with  this,  and  have  everything 
very  cold. . . .  And  that's  all  for  now  from  Annie. 


I    \  II   I  I 


II     1 1     \l     I         lot      H     N     \  I 


wavN 

to  use  lli(*s(>  2  riodin  soups 

IIY 


iNNK  M  \USII  \\.\. 

■I'rtitr  1 1  nni  r  Kvou  am  it'ii 
tnithi'H  Siiiift  ('iirtifntttv 


<)l  <  nurse  voiril  lliiisl  nlli-il  Horvr  llli-sc 
lis  sinii>.'  .\|i|ii  |i|r  i<iii|(liiin,  IliiMii- 
plciisiii^.  I'ciliiips  with  -(iiiir  ilrviT  liillc 
jiiiriiisli.  Itiii  Jiiii'i  -.tnii  llicic!  VdiriT  n 
^MiiiKiM  .iiiil  iiiia^iiial i\ (■ !  ( irniiii  h(iii|>h 
iinili-  Mill  III  Kinijiosr  willi  llicin. 

^iMl  r;m  Use  llii'lll  IIS  ill ^Ifilii'lll s  ill  cimk- 
Cil   (I1-.I11-,      III  ailil   (It    In  lici;^ll|rll  iLivtir. 


Voii  ciiii  iixr  llniii  .!•<  fiiiiir-iin  viutTM—Ui 
llrw  illh-K  -l  ,iiii|  |i|»|r  .i|i|m;iI  to  v^gC• 
lalili-H  .  .  .  (ixli  ...  or  iiii-at. 

Tl  V  iIh*  '•IIJJflrslinllH  llcrr  —  uni)  f^rt  IfK) 
mure  I  Ju-I  srinl  ii  |to<«l  rai'fl  liir  mv  frre 

l'<Ti|lc    liiMik      "( iniikillf:    with    ( !i>liilrl|HC)| 

S<iii|is'".  Mail  il  In  iIh*  (iaiiiplull  Siiiip 
( !iiiii|uiii y,  (iaiinli-n  I ,  N.  J. 


1  fi»nttl  i-tntli  lifffm  II 
lull  Hini/i  nlfll 


{ 


Cn-niii  «>r  !Miisliro(>ni  Soup 

ii'illi  its  Ivnili'i  iiiiisliriioni  iiii-ccs 


M ii-lirooiii  Mi-ul  i>tiil 
Kor  a  ^raiiii  i<iiq»ri»e,  it«rve 
ilu-  fumilv  K  favorite  meal 
ltia(  willi  \liit>lirfuini  Suih  **. 
Sii  caiv!  Jii-I  liU'inI  a  can 
of  criiKlfM-rd  (Jream  of 
MiiHliroom  .Soiqi  willi  'm 
I  lift  milk.  Simmer  with 
iiifal  (lri|i(iiiiK<). 


S|)riii<r  Style 

(iliirifv  little  ncu  |iiiliiliic~ 
[iiiiirinf^  this  (leli<;ioll^ 
-aiiie  over  them:  Blend 
ran  condenseii  Cream  ol 
\lii-hro(im  Soup  with  ':! 
i  u[i  niilk.  adii  1  ciifi  rook- 
ed [leas  and  >immer  2 
minutes. Tastes  delicious! 


Cream  of  Celery  Soup 

l>arnislw(l  ivitli  u  liippi'il  cream,  rluippod  i  hiivs 


A  MONTHLY  SERVICE  FEATURE  PRESENTED  BY 


Salmon  with 

Celery  Saiiee 

Givesalmnn  steaks  new  intei  - 
est — to  the  eve  and  to  the 
taste — with  a  delicate  Celery 
Saiire.  To  make  it.  t'omhiiie 
1  can  condensed  Cream 


simmer  2  minutes 


1  SOUPS 


Ham  ami  Kice 

Casserole 

Make  a  tempting  cas-erole  ol 
can  condensed  Cream  of 
Celery  Soup  blended  with  14 
cup  milk,  15^  cups  precooked 
rice  prepared  as  directed  on 
package,  1  cup  cooked  diced 
ham.  f^rated  onion  and  pars- 
Bake  375°  F.  25  minutes. 


How  "young" 
will  they  be  at  65? 


YOUNG  PEOPLE  today  have  an  excellent 
chance  to  live  beyond  their  sixty-fifth 
birthday.  Already  there  are  over  12  million 
Americans  who  are  past  65.  By  the  end  of 
the  century  it  is  estimated  that  there  will  be 
nearly  twice  as  many. 

Most  of  these  millions  can  look  forward 
to  being  healthier,  happier,  "younger"  after 
65  than  people  of  that  age  have  ever  been. 
This  has  been  made  possiblechiefly  by  med- 
ical advances.  Most  communicable  dis- 
eases of  childhood,  for  example,  have  been 
substantially  controlled  by  immunization. 

In  addition,  new  drugs,  improved  surgi- 
cal techniques,  and  better  methods  of 
diagnosis  and  treatment  have  ushered  in  a 
new  era  of  health  for  people  of  all  ages. 

If  you  are  one  of  those  to  whom  the 
words  "old  age"  conjure  up  an  unpleasant 
picture,  you  are  likely  to  be  heartened  by 
the  views  of  authorities.  They  say  that  old 
age  need  not  be  endured:  that  it  can  actually 
be  enjoyed.  This  depends  largely,  however, 
on  what  you  do  to  safeguard  your  health. 

Over  the  years,  adjustments  in  diet  may 
be  desirable.  While  the  cjuaniitv  of  food 
required  in  later  life  usually  becomes  less, 
the  need  for  the  essential  proteins,  vitamins, 
and  minerals  for  body  upkeep  and  repair 
remains  unchanged. 

Moreover,  proper  diet  is  a  safeguard 
against  overweight  which  burdens  the  heart 
and  often  paves  the  way  for  diabetes, 
arthritis,  and  high  blood  pressure. 

Of  course  the  best  way  to  conserve  good 
health  is  to  place  yourself  under  your 
doctor's  care  and  go  to  him  for  a  periodic 


health  examination  as  often  as  he  recom- 
mends it.  Through  early  diagnosis  of 
troubles  just  starting,  he  may  not  only  bring 
you  relief,  but  add  years  to  your  life. 

By  following  you  through  the  years,  your 
doctor  will  also  come  to  know  you  as  an 
iiidividiial  .  .  .  what  your  personal  prob- 
lems are,  what  strains  your  work  places  on 
you,  what  your  reactions  are  in  times  of 
stress.  Such  information  is  of  great  value 
to  the  doctor  in  solving  many  health  prob- 
lems. 

The  doctor  can  also  advise  you  about 
your  daily  habits — such  as  getting  plenty 
of  rest  and  sleep  and  practicing  moderation 
in  all  activities.  With  his  advice,  you  may 
find  yourself  with  renewed  mental  and 
physical  energy  for  certain  activities  that 
you  may  have  given  up  because  you  felt 
"too  tired"  or  "too  old." 

Enjoyment  in  later  years  —  especially 
those  spent  in  retirement — also  rests  to  a 
great  extent  upon  one's  mental  attitude. 
This  is  why  it  is  important  to  keep  up  your 
outside  interests,  including  hobbies.  Such 
activities  will  help  keep  you  young  in  heart 
and  young  in  outlook. 

Medical  science  has  given  us  the  means 
to  prolong  our  lives.  It  is  up  to  us  to  make 
the  best  use  of  up-to-date  medical  knowl- 
edge. At  no  time  of  life  should  we  take 
good  health  for  granted.  Rather,  we  should 
plan  and  work  for  it,  just  as  we  do  for  the 
other  worthwhile  things  of  life.  By  doing 
so,  more  and  more  of  us  can  anticipate  be- 
ing "young"  at  65  .  .  .  and  perhaps  even  in 
our  seventies,  eighties,  and  nineties. 


Please  mail  me  a  free 
copy  of  Metropolitan's  new 
booklet,  553-J,  "Years  To 
Come." 


Company 

COUVASY 


Name- 


1  M.^oi" 


III, 


k  I  -itiU^ilV^iifci 


A 


Street- 


City- 


-Slale- 


(ConlinKCil  frniii  I'nsi':  43) 


Powtll  was  a  lawyer.  He  was  almost  the 
lawyer  in  those  days.  Surely  no  leKal  mind  in 
New  York  was  valued  above  his.  But  Powell, 
thoufih  handsome  and  successful,  had  with- 
drawn from  social  life. 

As  I  remarked  earlier,  my  mother  died 
when  I  was  born.  Powell  had  loved  her  well 
and  this  in  itself  was  sad.  but  even  I  as  a  child 
had  seen  the  deeper  sadness,  the  injustice  of 
the  blow  he  had  received.  To  have  ex- 
changed her  for  me  was  unthinkable. 

When  I  was  two  he  fell  in  love  again.  The 
lady,  as  I  understand  it,  was  lovely  and 
charming  and  completely  fascinated  by 
Powell.  .She  was  the  daughter  of  a  line  family 
and  the  wedding  date  was  named. 

He  brought  her  to  the  house  one  afternoon 
to  visit  his  children.  Brett,  who  was  live,  she 
had  seen  before  and,  I  am  informed,  she 
adored  him.  She  had  not  seen  me.  Was  it 
that  I  was  loo  young  to  have  been  awake  on 
the  occasions  when  she  had  seen  Brett?  Or 

had  Powell  purposely  I  don't  know,  so 

why  should  I  speculate?  In  any  case,  she  saw 
me  that  afternoon. 

After  the  engagement  was  broken  Powell 
never  went  out  again  socially  and  he  with- 
drew from  his  clubs. 
His  law  practice  was 
not  neglected  and  our 
home  life.  I  assure  you, 
was  amiable  and  whole- 
some. There  was  noth- 
ing either  sinister  or 
morbid  about  Powell. 
It  was  simply  that  he 
had  had  all  the  heart- 
ache he  felt  able  to  ab- 
sorb. 

Now  comes  the  mo- 
ment I  have  dreaded. 
Perhaps  I  can  delay  it 
another  moment.  Per- 
haps I  can  first  tell  of 
Brett,  my  brother.  But 
I  may  as  well  have  it 
over  now  as  then.  Very 
well.  I  am  named  Eliz- 
abeth and  I  have  a 
crooked  back.  And  I 
never  grew  very  tall 
and  there  isn't  any 
doctor  anywhere  who 
could  do  anything 
about  it. 

There,  now  I  can 
talk  about  Brett. 
Wonderful,  handsome 
Brett  who  was  our  joy. 
He  was  red-haired^ 
not  coarsely,  yellowly  red-haired,  but  darkly 
russet  except  wlien  sunbeams  found  his  hair 
and  turned  it  into  flame.  He  was  tall  and 
straight  and  gay.  Brett,  my  magnificent 
brother. 

When  the  war  came  Powell  knew  that 
Brett  must  go.  Young  men  like  Brett  must 
always  go.  Powell  debated  how  Brett  should 
go,  and  while  he  debated  Brett  went.  He  en- 
listed. The  letters  came  regularly  for  a  time, 
then  they  stopped  and  we  had  a  communica- 
tion from  the  War  Department.  Brett  was 
dead,  they  told  us.  Dead  at  Fredericksburg. 
And  because  we  couldn't  stand  the  news, 
there  was  a  second  communication.  No.  wait. 
Perhaps  he  isn't  dead.  He  is  missing.  He's 
in  a  hospital.  What  hospital?  We  aren't  sure. 
The  records  are  so  jumbled.  We  do  our  best 
but  

Powell  sent  a  hundred  letters  to  the  capital, 
to  Mr.  Lincoln,  to  members  of  the  Cabinet, 
but  it  was  many  months  before  we  knew  that 
Brett  was  coming  home. 

Captain  Newland  brought  him.  The  cap- 
tain had  been  a  young  lawyer  in  Powell's 
office,  but  he  did  not  linger. 

"Brett's  glad  to  be  home,"  he  said. 

We  looked  at  Brett  but  he  did  not  say  that 
the  captain  was  right.  He  did  not  say  that 
the  captain  was  wrong.  He  just  stood  there 
looking  down  at  the  floral  pattern  of  the  car- 
pet. Aunt  Laurel  took  him  in  her  arms  and 
kissed  him  and  then  led  him  toward  a  large 


chocolate  cake.  "I  remembered  your  favor- 
ite," .she  said. 

He  did  not  reply  and  he  did  not  look  at  the 
cake. 

"It  was  bad  at  Fredericksburg,"  Captain 
Newland  whispered.  "We  advanced  some- 
times stepping  on  the  bleeding  bodies  of  our 
own  men.  They  screamed  and  they  died,  but 
we  advanced.  It  was  bad  at  Fredericksburg." 

Powell  said,  "Have  a  drink." 

The  captain  shook  his  head.  "You  have 
one,  sir,"  he  said  and  was  gone. 

Brett  stood  in  the  center  of  the  room  gaz- 
ing about  him  without  pleasure,  without  in- 
terest. 

"Sit  down,  son,"  Powell  said, 

l^RETT  remained  standing  there  in  his  woi 
uniform,  looking  thin  and  shabby.  Our  eye 
were  riveted  upon  him.  He  was  our  love,  our 
hope.  Say  soinetliinii.  Brett.  Say  something. 

"■^'our  room  is  ready  if  you'd  like  to  rest,"' 
Aunt  Laurel  said.  "Later  Minette  is  comitWj 
over."  ^ 
Brett  walked  to  the  window  and  stared oiM 
through  the  starched  lace  curtains,  ^ 
"Maybe  you'd  like  to  get  out  of  that  uai^) 
form.  It  must  be 
heavy." 

Brett  turned  from 
the  window  and  walked 
over  to  the  stove  and 
stood  with  his  back  to 
us.  There  was  no  fire  on 
this  mild  day  and  he 
seemed  slightly  incred- 
ulous of  the  bright  glass 
jewels  that  did  not 
gleam  emerald  and 
ruby  as  he  remembered 
them.  He  put  out  his 
hand  and  touched  the 
front  of  the  stove. 

"We  have  roast  lamb 
for  dinner,"  Aunt 
Laurel  said.  "Because 
you  always  liked  roast 
lamb." 

Brett  opened  the  lit- 
tle door  of  the  stove 
and  peered  into  the 
blackness. 

"But  have  some 
chocolate  cake  now 
and  then  get  out  of 
that  uniform  and  take 
a  nice  bath  and  a  good 

rest  and  " 

Brett  slammed  shut 
the  little  door  of  the 
stove.  "Leave  me  alone,  can't  you?"  he 
shouted.  "Leave  me  alone." 

We  got  through  the  day.  I  am  not  surei 
how  we  did  it,  for  it  was  a  bad  day.  I  looki 
back  upon  it  and  wonder  how  we  inanaged.j 
And  yet  I  do  know  how  we  managed.  I  knowi 
because  in  the  bleakest,  the  most  terrible 
hours  there  is  always  that  small,  dauntless 
voice  within  that  keeps  piping  foolish,  cheery 
little  words  such  as,  "It  will  be  better  when 
the  doctor  comes";  or  "The  boat  will  rightl 
itself  when  the  storm  abates." 

For  us  it  was  Minette.  When  Minette  comes 
it  ivill  he  better.  We  were  all  thinking  that.! 
Brett  had  been  fond  of  Minette.  Perhaps 
even  in  love  with  her.  To  us  all  it  had  lona 
seemed  a  certainty  that  one  day  Brett  and 
Minette  would  marry. 

And  now  we  waited  for  her,  expecting  God 
knows  what  magic.  Surely  there  was  no  wis- 
dom in  Minette,  no  source  of  calm,  sure 
strength.  There  was  nothing  to  her  save  a 
pink  mouth,  a  cloud  of  yellow  hair  and  a  pair 
of  huge,  blue  eyes',  and  yet  we  sat  there  think-l 
ing  that  things  would  be  better  when  Minette 
came. 

Brett  took  no  part  in  the  conversation.  He 
sat  staring  down  at  his  hands,  acknowledg- 
ing not  the  words  directly  addressed  to  hirr 
nor  for  that  matter,  even  our  presence.  Once 
he  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair  and  Aunl 
Laurel  went  to  him  swiftly  as  though  he  hac. 
offered  her  a  long-awaited  opportunity. 
(Continued  on  Page  74) 


Itii  I'riKvilln  Slmnn'M 

When  May  whirls  in  with  merry 
songs, 

Bright  notes  of  petaled  laughter, 
Smocked  cherry  trees 
Tremble  for  bees, 
And  meadows  all  gay  green  taffeta 
Shake  hot  buttercup  curls 
At  daisy-counting  girls. 

Then  young  men  dream 
Of  wives  like  cream, 
Each  warm  girl  waits  her  lover. 
As  flushed  and  gay 
And  dressed  like  May, 
They  fling  the  curved  moon  over. 


1 


I     ^    "    I    I     ~  II    n    \|    I        I    <>    I     11     N    \  I 


1    ■  ^ 

ivcs  in  llio  Casllo  dI'  Itu fiai\  in  Scodanil. 
J'oople  always  speak  ol  llic  Diiclicss"  hmk  of 
jci  f'cction.  She  is  (ie\ 

Ilrcam. "Pond's  cleanses  ni\  >kin  licaiilifiilh  — 
caving  it  looking  biigiilcr,  licslicr,""  >lic  says. 


II 


i'lii-  idvdy  peeress  hears  ojic  <il'  Britain's  most  (lislingiiislieil  titles.  5hc  and 
iIm  Duke  are  world  travelers,  often  visiting  the  Dominions.  Wlicrrvcr  tdie 
f;iu>,  llie  Duchess  cares  lor  her  rose-petal  complexion  with  PondV  Odil  Oeam, 
lo  keep  it  soft  and  ^niooth.  The  Duchess  says:  "I  <|i.n  t  know  a  U-tter  cream 
in  the  world  llian  I'ond's  Cold  Cream.  My  skin  responils  Ijeautifully  lo  it." 


Its  my  one  essential  cream" 


^'Z^Z-e^^f  <^ 

Her  husband's  family  was  given  a  Barony  in  1264,  an  Earldom  in  1525  and  the  Dukedom  in 
1703.  Tall  slender  and  very  fair,  she  will  make  a  striking  picture  in  her  crimson  corona- 
tion robes.  This  young  Duchess  gives  her  lovely  skin  the  regular,  meticulous  care  of  Pond's 
Cold  Creamings.  Tlic  Duchess  says.  "I  can"t  imagine  using  any  other  cream.  It  is  perfection. 
Pond's  keeps  my  skin  immaculate — and  feeling  ever  so  smooth  and  fresh." 


So  many  of  Britain's  duchesses,  like  beautiful 
women  all  over  the  world,  are  devoted  to  this  one 
special  cream.  They  say  nothing  gives  their 
complexions  such  exquisite  care. 

There  is  an  exclusive  formulation  of  skin-helping 
iiifrredients  in  Pond's  famous  Cold  Cream.  As  you 
use  this  satin-smooth  cream,  its  ingredients  work 
on  your  skin  as  a  team — in  inter-action.  It 
cleanses  your  skin  immaculately,  and  at  the  same 
time  replenishes  the  oil  and  moisture  your  skin 
needs  regularly  to  look  fresh,  smooth,  young. 

And — you  help  both  sides  of  your  skin,  as  you 
swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream  over  your  face. 

Outside — embedded  dirt  is  lifted  out  of  pore- 
openings.  And  your  skin  is  given  softening  oil  and 
moisture.  Inside — circulation  is  stimulated,  help- 
ing: the  skin  repair  itself  and  refine  itself. 

A  fascinating,  immediate  change 
can  come  over  vour  face 


Do  this  double  Pond's  Cold  Creaming  to  cleanse 
vour  skin  tiiomughly — to  give  it  oil  and  moisture 
vour  skin  mu.-t  have  regularlv. 

Soft-cleanse — swirl  satin-smooth  Pond's  Cold  Cream  up 
all  over  vour  face  and  throat.  Tissue  off  uetl. 

Soft -rinse  quickly  with  more  skin-helping  Pond's  Cold 
Cream.  Tissue  off  liglitly. 

Start  now  to  use  Pond's  Cold  Cream  every  night  (and 
mornings,  too).  Remember,  the  constant  robbing  of 
vour  skin's  tVeshness  goes  on  every  day.  Go  to  your 
favorite  face  cream  counter  and  get  a  large  jar  of  Pond's 
Cold  Cream  todav. 


/4 


may,  i9,)5 


Generosity  is  not  bound  to 
give  prudence  a  why  and  a 
wherefore. 

— VAUVENARGUES 


Listen  to  Don  McNeill's  Breakfast  Club,  ABC  Radio,  Weekday  Mornings 


fCniiliriued  from  Page  72) 
"I  always  loved  the  color  of  your  hair,"  she 
said.  "I  wonder  if  it's  darkened  any  at  the 
roots." 

Her  hands  moved  through  my  brother's 
hair.  We  were  mystified  for  a  moment  until 
we  realized  what  she  was  doing.  She  was 
searching  for  signs  of  a  head  wound.  When 
she  returned  to  her  chair  we  could  not  help 
but  observe  that  the  stricken  look  in  her  eyes 
had  deepened.  A  head  wound,  after  all,  was 
something  that  could  be  understood,  treated 
and  prayed  over.  One  scarcely  knew  how  to 
pray  for  this  other  thing  —  this  thing  that  had 
happened  to  Brett. 

"Well,"  Aunt  Laurel  said  briskly,  "Mi- 
nette  will  be  here  soon." 

"Yes."  Powell  replied  and  his  eyes  lighted 
with  hopeful  expectancy. 

It  is  perhaps  not  necessary  to  say  that  only 
Brett  kept  his  seat  when  the  sound  of  car- 
riage wheels  was  heard  outside.  We  hurried 
to  the  window. 

"That's  Minette,"  Aunt  Laurel  assured 
us. 

WiD  we  think  that  the  sight  of  the  girl 
would  bring  Brett  back  to  us?  That  lier  soft 
voice,  her  small  fluttering  hands  would  lure 
him  away  from  the  confused,  shadowy  world 
in  which  he  dwelt?  I  cannot  tell  at  lliis  late 
date.  I  only  know  that  our  disappointment 
was  bitter  when  we  saw  the  coachman  alight 
and  walk  toward  our  door. 

None  of  us  spoke.  It  seemed  an  hour  before 
the  parlormaid  entered  carrying  a  note. 

"For  you, ma'am,"  she  said  to  Aunt  Laurel. 

"Have  the  man  wait," 
Aunt  Laurel  ordered. 

"Yes,  ma'am."  The  girl 
hurried  to  catch  Minette's 
coachman,  who  was  al- 
ready poised  to  drive  away . 

Aunt  Laurel  tore  open 
the  note.  "Minette  cannot 
come,"  she  said  in  tones 
sharp  with  the  bite  of  acid. 
"Her  mother  writes  to  say 
that  the  child  has  one  of  the  most  devas- 
tating headaches  possible." 

"A  pity,"  Powell  said. 

"Indeed."  Aunt  Laurel  lowered  her  voice, 
though  such  delicacy  was  not  needed.  "How 
could  they  have  been  so  stupid  as  to  ad- 
dress the  apology  to  me?  It  was  Brett  who 
was  expecting  her,  was  it  not  ?  But  the  note 
did  not  come  to  Brett.  And  why  not?  Be- 
cause they  knew  he  was  not  — was  not  likely 
to  read  it.  They  knew." 

Powell  lowered  his  gaze  before  Aunt 
Laurel's  flashing  eyes.  It  was  clear,  too  clear. 

Aunt  Laurel  stood  trembling  with  rage,  her 
stiff  silk  skirt  making  a  nervous  rustling 
sound  in  the  silent  room.  Then  suddenly  she 
wheeled  and  darted  away. 

"Laurel ! "  Powell  called  after  her.  "Laurel, 
for  heaven's  sake.  " 

"This  is  woman's  business,"  she  shot  back 
at  him  and  we  could  hear  her  footsteps  hurry- 
ing toward  the  hapless  coachman. 

I  do  not  know  what  message  she  gave  him, 
but  she  came  back  to  the  room  her  color  high, 
her  mouth  distorted  in  anger. 

"Who  are  they  to  do  this  to  Brett?  How  do 
they  dare?"  she  demanded 

It  struck  me  that  tliey  were  not  doing  it  to 
Brett  at  all,  for  he  alone  remained  untouched 
by  Minette's  defection. 

"Poor  boy,"  Aunt  Laurel  said.  "She'll 
come.  Minette  will  come.  Once  she  knows 
we're  not  fooled,  she'll  come.  They  cannot 
afford  to  insult  us.  Only  the  chance  that 
Minette  will  make  a  moneyed  marriage  is 
keeping  their  credit  good.  Her  mother  will 
make  her  come!" 

Powell  said,  "If  that's  the  case  you  are 
very  cruel,  Laurel,  and  so  is  her  mother— if 
Minette  comes." 

"I  don't  mind  being  called  cruel  in  a  case 
like  this."  Her  eyes  went  to  Brett  and  they 
were  soft  and  tender  though  the  rest  of  her 
seemed  to  bristle  with  fierceness. 

"When  Minette  comes,"  I  said,  "if  she 
comes,  see  her  alone,  Aunt  Laurel.  Explain 
that  Brett  is  not  well  and  " 

Powell  said,  "The  whole  matter  as  it  con- 
cerns the  girl  is  unimportant  and  I  am  tired 
of  it." 


He  looked  tired.  Did  people  actually  age 
in  a  few  hours?  I  had  heard  that  such  was 
possible  but  I  had  never  believed  it— till 
now.  I  looked  at  Brett,  Powell's  child  who 
had  been  fine  and  strong,  and  I  thought 
about  myself,  Powell's  other  child.  I  thou^t 
of  my  dead  mother  and  the  second  woman 
Powell  had  loved  and  I  went  to  him  andof-; 
fered  him  the  comfort  of  my  skinny,  undo, 
sized  hand. 

When  the  carriage  stopped  again  at  c|ar 
door  we  did  not  rush  to  the  windows.  TJis 
time  we  sat  rigidly  and  waited  till  the  parlor- 
maid appeared  and  announced  Minette.  ' 
"Show  her  in."  Aunt  Laurel  said  co<& 
Powell  rose  to  his  feet  and  threw  an  m 
ious  glance  toward  Brett.  It  is  a  strafe 
thing  how  often  custom  and  habit  bea^ 
our  masters.  And  perhaps  it  is  a  good  thi^ 
for  in  that  moment  Powell  was  not  concert 
with  the  dreadful  new  misfortune  that  hat 
befallen  him.  His  mind  was  busy  with  oni 
consideration  and  one  only.  A  lady  was 
tering  the  room  and  Brett  was  still  seal 
Powell  slipped  his  hand  beneath  Brett's: 
and  urged  him  to  his  feet  and  one  woulii 
have  thought  that  all  in  Powell's  world  wa 
perfectly  right  again. 

Minette  came  in  moving  in  the  manner t 
a  pink-and-gold  breeze.  She  always  floate 
through  a  room.  It  was  her  high-arched  feeij 
I  supposed,  or  perhaps  her  lovely,  lovely  littl 
figure  with  its  straight  back  and  good  shou 
ders.  The  parlormaid  had  taken  her  boniu 
and  shawl  and  she  stood  facing  us  in  a  re 
challis  dress  upon  which  small  white  stai 
had  been  embroidered. 

We  greeted  her  cordial!.| 
and  she  returned  our  greej 
ings  with  polite  remarli 
All  references  to  M; 
nette's  headache  or  to  Aui' 
Laurel's  instructions  totH 
coachman  were  omitte, 
Everybody  was  extreme 
well  and  as  transport 
with  delight  at  the  sig 
of  the  visitor  as  the  v1 
itor  was  with  her  charming  hosts  and  hos 
esses. 

It  was  Aunt  Laurel  who  led  Minette  to  t 
corner  of  the  room  where  Brett  was  standir 
I  shall  always  remember  that  there  was 
painting  behind  him.  An  Italian  lake. 

"Here's  Minette,"  Aunt  Laurel  said. 

"Welcome  home,"  Minette  said  in  a  tl 
little  voice.  ,! 

Brett  considered  her  for  a  long  momeii 

"Aren't  you  going  to  speak  to  Minette 
Aunt  Laurel  begged. 

I  thought  this  an  exceedingly  dangercl 
approach.  After  all.  Brett  had  not  tak 
kindly  to  Aunt  Laurel's  prodding.  There  w 
no  knowing  what  he  might  say  or  do. 

No,  there  was  no  knowing.  No  knowing, 
all.  Who  could  have  been  expected  to  reme^ 
ber  how  he  had  reached  out  to  the  cold,  d€ 
jewels  in  the  parlor  stove,  finding  them  s 
colorful?  Who  could  know  that  he  woi* 
wish  to  touch  the  bright  gold  mist  that  v 
Minette's  hair? 

I  remember  well,  for  sometimes  in  the  nij 
it  comes  back  to  me,  the  chilling  horror 
that  awful  moment.  Perhaps  as  Brett  rais^ll 
his  hand  she  thought  that  it  was  his  wishj 
strangle  or  strike  her.  Perhaps.  But  I  do  ij 
believe  this  is  so.  I  believe  Minette's  frij 
was  a  primitive,  unthinking  thing,  i 
screamed  and  ran,  sobbing  and  babbling^ 
the  hall  and  straight  out  the  door  to 
carriage. 


Powell  said,  "Her  bonnet  and  sha] 
Laurel.  She  has  forgotten  them."  ! 

His  voice  was  very  calm  and  in  his  e; 
there  was  a  curious  expression.  He  walkec 
the  window  and  watched  our  parlormj 
carry  Minette ''s  belongings  to  her  and  I  co; 
not  help  but  wonder  if,  for  him,  this  pairj 
scene  was  merely  a  repetition  of  somethSj 
he  had  known  before.  Had  another  girl,  w| 
with  fright  and  revulsion,  once  run  from  ll 
house?  A  girl  who  had  been  expected^i 
fondle  and  love  a  misshapen  baby  ? 

I  looked  at  Brett.  He  was  untouched 
the  scream  and  by  Minette's  headlong  fli{{; 
He  stood  motionless  in  front  of  the  ItaSn 
lake  and  perhaps  it  was  an  indication  of  jir 


I    \    1 1    I  I 


II      I)      M      I  I      <■      I        |(       N      \  I 


/I 


Crush  ice  quicklM... 
fine,  medium  or  coarse 
...  no  mess 


Stainless  steel, 
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ware, home  fur- 
nishings, and  de- 
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If  your  dealer  con'f  supply  you 
—  write  us  for  literature  and 
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sure  I 


8 


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DAZEY 


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RIT 


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On  sale  at  leading  hardcore  ond  deparrment  stores 


CLOTHS 


JOHN  RIT2ENTHAIER,  73  FRANKLIN  ST.  N.  Y.  13 


Seven  Evans  varieties 
in  home-size  jars. ..nuts,  fruits, 
butterscotch,  chocolate  fudge. 


^^AT  SUPER-MARKETS  AND  GROCERIES 


.aciistomiiiK  'nifa  lvti  ii»  Hu  ll  Dial  no  oiu 
msisiid  iIkiI  lie  imiMi  now  >«;ii  liiniwir. 

Aunt  I.aiin  l  went  l);u  k  lo  In  r  rluiir,  "li 
will  Ik-  Ix-llcr  adir  dmiu  i  ."  ilii'  tiiid 

And  now  wi-  hjiI  wail  inn  tut  dimiiT,  iIhiukIi 
M(»  oni-  iruild  have  Ixtii  Uui\n.ry.  AfU-r  a 
Willie  wlit  ii  liic  sl^;nal  laiiu-  we  wrnt  Ui  tlif 
diniiit;  nHini  and  miipriHinKly  i  noiiuli  it  wm 
Ik'IUt. 

I  do  nol  Hjiy  llial  Hn-ll  ale-  an  fnorinoun 
dinner  or  llial  we  all  liialieretl  ea«erly  like 
I  lie  lia|)|)ily  reiiniU'd  family  we  had  ex|K't  le<l 
lo  Ix'  al  llus  lioiir  Uiil  Mreii  loiHumed  a  lair 
aiuoiinl  of  all  llial  was  piled  tiiMin  Iiih  plale 
.ind  we  look  a  pallielic  dell^;lll  m  ilie  faC 
llial  his  inletesi  had  Ix-en  laiiKlii  and  held 
l)y  liie  dumh-wailer  whiih  hroiu'hi  our  food 
u|)  from  Ihe  kiUlien. 

"You  usid  lo  ride  uixin  il  wlien  you  wt  re 
a  litlie  one,"  I'oweil  sjiid.  "Isn'l  iliat  Irue, 
I  leiidon? " 

Indeed,  sir.  Many  a  time  1  rcmemIxT  my 
wile  would  patk  Masler  Mrell  into  il  down 
in  the  kilihen  arul  me  slandinv;  ri«iil  here 
would  oiM'ii  I  lie  door  and  help  liim  out  and 
then  he'd  yell  until  he  was  pul  hack  ;infl  re- 
ceived in  the  kiu  lien  anain.  Al  I  lie  end  of  a 
rainy  day  when  he  couldn't  play  outdoors 
my  arms  would  Ik.-  ready  to  drop  olT  with 
MastiT  Unit's  ridinu  up  and  down" 

ic  smiled.  We  did  not  lx)tlK'r  to  lauKli. 
With  some  servants  il  minhl  liave  been 
necessary.  Hut  nol  with  Ilendon. 

"^'()ur  dessert,  Master  Hrett,"  he  said, 
placing  a  ureal,  oversized  wedue  of  apjile  pie 
before  my  brother.  And  because  Ilendon 
knew  we  imdersl(X)d  him  as  he  understcxxl  us 
he  made  no  attempt  lo  conceal  his  own  dis- 
tress as  he  Ix'iit  al'K)ve  Brett. 

"That's  very  nix^d  pie."  Aunt  Laurel  said 
coaxinijly. 

Brett  stood  up  and  walked  lo  the  dumi)- 
waiter  and  opened  the  door  as  he  had  opened 
the  door  of  the  |)arlor  stove.  lie  fell  of  Ihe 
topes  and  I  was  ashamed  thai  none  of  us 
could  lake  our  eyes  from  liim. 

Brett  yanked  ujion  the  rope  and  the  dumb- 
waiter rose.  He  stared  al  it  for  a  moment, 
then  closed  the  door. 

"Do  you  see  how  it  works,  son?"  I'oweil 
asked . 

To  our  amazement  Brett  nodded.  "I 
knew."  he  said. 

That  was  wliat  he  said.  "I  knew."  And  I 
can  see  that  there  is  no  way  of  wrilinn  those 
two  words  so  that  you  will  be  able  to  grasp 
what  they  meant  to  us.  He  knew.  A  proper 
answer.  We  were  seized  by  sudden  excite- 
ment, even  by  a  feeling  of  well-being. 

After  dinner  w-e  returned  briefly  to  the 
parlor.  We  had  conversation  now.  The  three 
of  us.  It  was  stilted  and  meaningless  but  not 
so  desperate  as  in  the  afternoon. 

At  length  Powell  suggested  retiring  and  as 
a  sort  of  guard  of  honor  w  e  all  escorted  Brett 
upstairs  to  his  room. 

He  spoke  again  at  the  threshold.  He  said, 
"  I'm  cold." 

Aunt  Laurel  brought  two  extra  blankets 
and  I  am  sure  that  only  Powell's  stern  dis- 
approval restrained  her  from  undressing 
Brett  and  seeing  him  safely  bedded  down. 

"Can  you  manage,  son?"  Powell  asked. 

There  was  no  answer,  but  we  pretended 
that  there  had  been.  We  said  good  night  and 
went  to  our  rooms.  I  did  not  undress. 
Brett's  room  was  next  to  mine.  I  would  be 
able  to  hear  if  he  called  and  so  I  would  stay 
dressed  and  ready. 

I  sat  motionless  listening  and  I  heard  the 
sound  of  the  servants  on  the  top  floor  pre- 
paring for  bed.  They  walked  softly,  but  I 
fancied  that  I  followed  them  through  the 
ritual  of  hanging  uniforms  carefully  upon 
their  rightful  hooks,  of  setting  shoes  down 
easily  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  family.  Finally 
there  was  silence  on  the  top  floor. 

But  in  the  room  next  to  mine  there  was  no 
silence.  Brett  was  walking.  I  could  hear  him. 
Up  and  down.  Up  and  down  Did  he  need 
me?  Did  he  w-ant  me?  Or  would  he  resent  in- 
trusion? I  stood  irresolute  and  then  decision 
came,  for  Brett  had  begun  to  weep. 

With  less  stir  than  a  moth  would  create  I 
went  out  into  the  corridor  and  into  Brett's 
room.  He  had  not  taken  off  his  clothes.  He 
was  not  really  walking.  I  don't  know  why  it 


"I  use  ttie  1^  Estate  l^nae  because  it 

6RIUS,  BAKES.  BARBECUES!" 


Sayt  nafion't  noted 
authority  on  yood  food 


IT  GRILLS:  This  h.nndy 
Hide-Away  Grid-All  drains 
fals  into  a  special  reservoir, 
and  converts  it  (accessory) 
to  a  super-giant  burner  for 
vessels  up  to  25  quarts. 


IT  BAKES:  The  bi;;.  Bal- 
anced Heal  oven  lets  you 
bake  pies,  cakes,  muffins 
and  casserole  dishes  to 
perfection.  No  hot  spots! 
No  guess  work! 


An  RCA  Estate  range  offers  NEW  methods, 
NEW  flavors,  NEW  adventures  in  cooking. 

What  other  range  gives  you  such  easy,  novel  ways 
lo  prepare  meals'?  Like  the  built-in  Hide-Away 
Grid-All  that  imparts  "greasclcss"  grilled  flavor  to 
steaks,  chops,  vegetable  slices,  fruit  rings — better 
tor  you  than  fried  foods. 

And  the  .separate  Bar-B-Kewer  meat  oven  that 
gives  "charcoal-done"  flavor  to  whole  roasts,  hams 
and  chickens — while  your  bake  oven  is  busy  with 
pies  or  cakes.  Remember,  the  RCA  Estate  lets  you 
i>et  everything  ready  at  once! 

Preferred  by  wise  homemakers  for  4  generations. 


Models  for  city  gas  and  bottled  gas 


GuaraDie«d  bv 


RCA  Estate 


Gas  and  Electric  Ranges 


IT  BARBECUES  ^^.nb  liic 
deep,  penciraling  he. it  of 
a  charcoal  pit  in  this  sep- 
arate Bar-B-Kewer  oven, 
which  doubles  as  a  high 
broiler. 


RCA  Estate  Appliance  Corporation,  Hamilton.  Ohio 
A  Radio  Corporation  of  America  Subsidiary 
Makers  of  RCA  "Heatrola"  Space  Heaters 


OU( 
llltli 
YEAI 


AUTOMATIC  COOK! 

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RCA  Estate  Appliance  Corporation, 
Dept.  N-5,  Hamilton,  Ohio 

Name  


Address  , 


i2ra^ 


Citv. 


_Zone  State. 


How  old  is  your  present  range?. 


See  if  on  NBC-TV — RCA  Estate  Range  on  Dennis  Day  Show  Friday  nights:  Kukla,  Fran  and  Ollie, 
alternate  Sunday  afternoons.  Hear  Phil  Harris  and  Alice  Faye  Sunday  nights,  over  NBC  Radio. 


JELLO 


BRAND 


GELATIN  DESSERT 


LIME  FLAVOR 


Need  to  brighten  up 

tonight^  dinner? 


PRUDENCE  SALAD  RING.  Dissolve  1  package  Lime  Jell-0  in  1  cup 

hot  water  Add  1  cup  cold  water,  4  teaspoons  vinegar,  »/<  tea-  I 
spoon  salt  and  dash  of  pepper.  Chill  until  slightly  thickened.  Fold  i 
in  1  cup  each  shredded  cabbage  and  diced,  pared  tart  apples.  Ar-  ! 
range  6  thinly  sliced  stuffed  olives  on  bottom  of  a  1-quart  rmg  mold. 
Cover  with  Jell-0.  Chill  until  firm.  Unmold.  Serves  6. 

Different  Jell-O  Salad  recipes  on  other  Lemon  and  Lime  packages. 


And  please  the  whole  family  ? 


you  served  a  Jell-0  Salad  lately? 

JELL-O   IS  A   REGISTERED   TRADE-MARK   OF  GENERAL    FOODS  CORP. 


frightened  me  so  to  realize  that  he  was 
marching. 
"Brett." 

He  did  not  reply  and  when  he  faced  me  I 
saw  tears  streaming  wildly  down  his  face. 

"Brother,  I've  come  to  help  you.  Tell  me 
what  to  do." 

And  I  knew  that  my  appeal  was  childish 
and  unworthy.  For  it  was  I  who  must  think 
of  whatever  there  was  to  be  done.  The  march- 
ing man  who  was  my  brother  had  his  own 
concerns. 

"You  must  tell  what  troubles  you,  Brett," 
I  said  firmly.  "Do  you  want  to  talk?" 

He  turned  from  me  and  broke  stride.  He 
leaned  against  the  walnut  chiffonier  and  gave 
himself  up  to  his  tears. 

"Do  you  want  to  talk?"  1  asked  again. 

And  after  a  bit  he  answered,  "Not  to  you." 

I  understood  that  he  did  not  mean  it  un- 
kindly. I  knew  exactly  what  he  meant. 

Swiftly  I  ran  out  again  into  the  corridor. 
Aunt  Laurel 's  door  flew  open  and  there  she 
was  in  he'  plum-colored  dress. 

"What  is  it?  "  she  demanded. 

"Brett  wants  Powell,"  I  said. 

And  at  that  moment  Powell,  still  fully 
dressed,  came  from  his  room.  "Trouble?"  he 
asked. 

"I  do  not  think  so,  Powell.  I  think  it  may 
be  good." 

Powell  hurried  into  Brett's  room  and  closed 
the  door.  For  a  long  time  I  could  hear  the 
sound  of  their  voices.  Powell's  infrequently. 
Brett's  high-pitched,  hysterical. 

And  after  a  while  there  were  no  more 
voices  and  I  could  hear  Brett  breathing 
heavily,  noisily  in  the  sleep  of  utter  exhaus- 
tion. Powell  quietly  went  out  of  Brett's  room 
and  into  his  own  and  all  night  long  I  sat  in 
the  corridor  listening  now  to  Powell  walking. 
Up  and  down.  Up  and  down. 

As  I  look  back  I  am  surprised  that  it  never 
occurred  to  us  that  there  would  be  many 
nights  like  that  one.  In  our  ignorance  we 
believed  that  Brett  had  delivered  himself  of 
the  memories  that  twisted  and  tortured  his 
mind.  It  seems  strange  now  that  we  were  so 
simple. 

The  Battle  of  Fredericksburg,  with  all  its 
fearful,  useless  slaughter,  was  relived  again 
and  again  in  my  brother's  room  and  I  do  not 
belittle  the  bravery  of  the  men  who  fought 
there  when  I  say  that  Powell  was  worthy  of 
them.  I  cannot  think  what  it  must  have 
taken  in  quiet  courage  to  arise  in  the  night 
and  to  go  to  Brett's  room  to  behold  once 
more  the  terrible  visions  which  my  brother 
dredged  up  from  the  depths  of  his  bloody 
memories. 

Powell  never  spoke  of  the  nights.  Though 
they  were  mentioned.  They  were  mentioned 
by  the  haggardness  of  Powell's  face  and  the 


misery  in  his  eyes.  They  were  remarked  upon 
by  Powell's  clothes  that  hung  now  instead 
of  fitting  in  the  manner  that  one  expected  of 
Powell's  clothes. 

I  cannot  say  the  days  were  bad.  By  natural 
impulse  we  compared  them  with  the  nights 
and  so  I  cannot  say  the  days  were  bad.  After 
that  first  day  Brett  spoke  more  frequently, 
though  seldom  was  he  part  of  a  conversation 
and  rarely  did  he  give  a  direct  answer.  It  was 
his  way  to  speak  when  moved  and  it  was  not 
often  that  his  desire  for  speech  coincided  with 
another's  question  or  comment. 

How  did  he  pass  the  time?  He  did  not  try. 
Time  passed  him  as  he  sat  in  the  parlor  or 
upstairs  sitting  room.  Sometimes  he  sat  at 
the  window  and  watched,  with  no  particular 
interest,  the  passers-by.  Sometimes  he  lis- 
tened as  I  played  for  him  upon  the  piano. 
Aunt  Laurel  took  him  for  an  occasional  drive 
and  once  or  twice  he  walked  with  me,  but  it 
was  impossible  to  tell  whether  or  not  he  en- 
joyed these  outings. 

Powell  consulted  doctors  and  they  sug- 
gested many  things.  Cribbage,  cold  baths,  a 
lively  group  of  friends.  To  one  who  pre- 
scribed an  evening  at  the  theater  Powell  said, 
"Did  you  ever  hear  what  Fredericksburg  was 
like,  doctor?"  And  Powell  went  sadly  home. 

We  went  through  the  year  1864  scarcely 
noting  the  progress  of  the  war.  It  was  never 
discussed  and  I  cannot  tell  now  whether  it 
was  because  the  war  had  ended  in  our  house 
on  the  day  of  Brett's  return  or  because  we 
accepted  the  fact  that  for  us  it  could  never 
end. 

It  was  the  summer  of  '65,  three  months 
after  the  surrender  at  Appomattox,  that 
Powell  made  the  decision  about  moving  to 
the  shore.  We  had  not  been  to  the  summer 
house  since  the  war  had  begun  and  I  had 
ceased  to  think  of  it,  though  in  the  past  it 
had  played  a  large  part  in  our  lives. 

He  did  not  ask  our  advice  and  it  was  clear 
that  he  had  thought  the  matter  over  well.  He 
stated  that  in  October  we  would  move  to  the 
New  Jersey  house. 

"In  October? "  Aunt  Laurel  said,  her  eye- 
brows high  in  amazement.  "The  shore  in 
October? " 

"  It  will  take  me  till  then  to  clear  up  certain 
matters  in  the  office.  Hasn't  it  been  obvious 
to  you  that  we  can't  continue  as  we  are?  The 
boy  gets  no  air  or  exercise.  Let  us  face  with 
candor  the  sad  situation.  Brett  is  our  re- 
sponsibility now  as  when  he  was  a  child.  We 
must  think  for  him.  His  body  is  a  magnificent 
piece  of  mechanism.  It  is  our  duty  to  see  that 
this  at  least  he  retains." 

Aunt  Laurel  nodded  slowly.  "He  ceftainly 
can't  get  air  and  exercise  on  these  congested 
streets,"  she  admitted. 

(Continued  on  Page  7!t) 


Ah.  Frederick,  they  don't  make  girls  like  they  used  to 


I    \  II   I  I 


II   •»   \l   I       I   I)   I    II    .    \  I 


brfccOy  simple  (t&ymk) 
-  simply  period 


Right  down  to  the  last  juicy  slice,  DelMonte 
Peaches  are  sunny  and  sweet  and  ripe  —  so 
that  they  make  even  the  easiest  salads  and 
desserts  beautiful  to  look  at  and  exceptionally 
good  to  eat. 

And  Del  Monte  Peaches  never  fail  you  on 
any  count.  Dependability  is  part  and  parcel 
of  every  Del  Monte  Food,  both  in  flavor 
and  quality. 

Just  try  them  once  and  the  world's  favorite 
peaches  will  be  your  favorite,  too. 

PEACH  PERFECTION  SALAD 


1  No.  2</i  can  DEL  MONTE 

Sliced  Peaches 
1  pkE.  lemon-flavored  gelatin 

1  cup  syrup  from  peaches 
Maraschino  cherries,  if  desired 

2  tablespoons  vinegar 
Va  teaspoon  salt 


Vi  cup  heavy  cream, 
whipped 

'/>  cup  celery,  cut 
paper-thin 

1  teaspoon  grated  onion 

1  cup  grated  cabbage 

Salad  greens 


Drain  peach  slices.  Dissolve  gelatin  in  1  cup  of  syrup  from 
the  peaches,  heated.  Dip  out  i^l  cup.  Arrange  some  of  the 
peach  slices  with  cherries  in  bottom  of  1-qt.  mold;  pour  the 
1/4  cup  gelatin  over  them.  Set  aside  to  chill.  To  the  remain- 
ing gelatin  add  vinegar  and  salt.  Chill  till  slightly  thickened. 
Fold  in  whipped  cream,  celery,  onion,  cabbage.  Pour  into 
mold  over  peach  slices  in  gelatin.  Top  with  any  remaining 
peaches.  Chill  till  firm;  unmold  on  greens.  Serves  6. 


tAe  best  liked  peaches  in  the  whok  wick  world! 

Del  Monte 

BRAND 

Peaches 


78 


LADIES' 


HO  ME 


JOURNAL 


I  iKyiotU|L  oisijdjuiL  cIaxji/h^ 


You'll  be  happier  with 

these  KitchenAid  advantages ! 

KitchenAid's  large  wash  arm  revolves  to  power  wash  and  double  power  rinse 
each  piece — dishes,  .g^iftpes,  silverware,  pots  and  pans  .  .  .  then  circulated 
electric  hot  air  takes  over  to  dry  them  without  leaving 
unsightly  " tear  drops."  Your  advantage — 
bright,  sparkling  clean  dishes ! 

And  the  two  individual  racks  slide  out 
conveniently  for  easiest  loading  . . .  you 
don't  "long  reach"  or  lift  out  racks  or 
hunt  space  to  place  your  dishes. 
Another  KitchenAid  advantage — 
the  upper  rack  adjusts  to  two 
positions  for  extra  tall  glasses ! 

Don't  do  the  dishes — have  them 
done — in  a  KitchenAid 
Home  Dishwasher. 


KitchenAid  Home  Dishwasher  Division  of 
The  Hobart  Manufacturing  Co.,  Troy,  Ohio 
In  Canada:  175  George  Street,  Toronto  1 


KItchenAjd 


The  Finest  Made... by 


The  World's  Largest  Manufacturer  of  Food,  Kitchen  and  Dishwashing  Machines 


KitchenAid  Home  Dishwasher  Division 

The  Hobart  Manufacturing  Co.,  Dept.  KL,  Troy,  Ohio 

Please  send  me  free  literature. 


Name. 


Address. 
City  


.Zone. 


.  State . 


(Conlinued  from  Page  76) 
Powell's  lips  thinned  as  they  always  did 
when  he  braced  himself  to  express  a  thought 
either  unpleasant  or  painful.  "If  he— if  he 
should  find  himself  during  the  next  year  or  so 
we  will  return  to  this  house.  If  by  any  chance 
God  withholds  His  blessing,  then  let  us  ad- 
just our  thinking  to  being  permanent  resi- 
dents at  the  shore.  It  will  be  easier  for  us  all." 

1  remember  that  1  looked  long  and  1  1  at 
our  New  York  house  as  we  drove  away  from 
it,  for  1  could  not  help  but  feel  that  1  would 
never  see  it  again.  All  at  once  eacli  corner  of 
it  was  dear  to  me. 

All  the  servants  moved  with  us.  None  re- 
fused, though  the  parlormaid  was  dubious. 
"The  ocean  is  a  wild  thing  in  winter,"  she 
said. 

"Never  mind,  my  dear,  you'll  not  be  asked 
to  swim  in  it,"  Aunt  Laurel  responded.  "And 
contrary  to  what  you're  thinking,  there  are 
young  men  at  the  shore  even  in  foul  weather." 

The  jDarlormaid  flushed  and  made  her 
plans  to  accompany  us. 

Every  ocean  town  has  two  faces.  In  sum- 
mer it  is  much  like  a  pretty,  foolish  girl  who 
wears  too  many  brilliant  colors,  and  who 
wishes  above  all  things  to  be  admired  and 
loved.  When  the  summer  is  past,  all  this  is 
changed.  The  town  is  a  dour  and  lonely  hag 
with  a  fierce  temper  and  a  bitter  determina- 
tion to  be  left  in  her  awful  solitude. 

^i%^E  came  upon  a  windy  day  and  under  a 
white  sky  into  the  town  and  to  our  house.  It 
was  a  very  large  house,  for  it  had  been  a 
wedding  present  to  my  father  and  mother 
from  one  set  of  parents.  It  was  a  beautiful 
house,  1  thought,  with  an  enormous  veranda 
and  elegant  turrets  and  towers.  And  of  course 
in  our  front  yard  was  the  ocean,  separated 
from  the  lawn  only  by  the  glistening  beach. 

Neither  Brett  nor  I  had  any  part  in  the 
scramble  of  unpacking.  Powell  was  not  due 
till  the  evening  and  I  did  what  1  thought  he 
might  do  had  he  arrived  with  us.  I  took 
Brett  for  a  tour  of  the  house  in  an  attempt 
to  fainiliarize  him  with  the  plan.  It  was  un- 
successful as  tours  went,  for  in  the  front 
rooms  he  was  interested  only  in  the  windows 
that  looked  out  upon  the  sea,  and  in  the  back 
rooms  he  stood  transfixed  listening  for  the 
crash  of  the  waves  upon  the  deserted  beach. 

It  had  been  in  my  mind  to  take  Brett 
walkinu  beside  the  ocean,  but  Mr.  Fort  came 
to  our  kitchen  door  and  changed  my  plans. 
As  far  back  as  1  could  remember  Mr.  Fort 
had  furnished  our  summer  household  with 
eggs,  milk  and  butter.  He  was  a  small  man 
with  hard,  brown  skin  and  black,  unsmiling 
eyes  and  as  a  child  1  had  regarded  his  wagon 
as  my  own  private  coach. 

Today  there  was  some  uncertainty  about 
my  meeting  with  Mr.  Fort.  I  liad  not  seen 
him  since  before  the  war.  1  was'cighteen  now, 
a  young  lady,  as  those  things  are  figured  by 
calendar  and  custom.  If  he  turned  toward  me 
that  cool  reserve  with  which  he  treated  Aunt 
Laurel  I  thought  I  might  weep. 

I  need  not  have  worried  about  Mr.  Fort.  I 
had  not  changed.  Neither  had  he. 

"How  are  you.  Miss  Liz?"  he  asked. 

1  clasped  his  tough  hand.  "  How  have  you 
been,  Mr.  Fort?" 

"Quite  well.  Miss  Liz.  Though  we  had  a 
bit  of  trouble.  Boy  got  killed  at  Gettysburg." 

"I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Fort." 

"Well,  can't  tell  what  would  have  hap- 
pened to  him  if  he'd  lived.  At  least  we  know 
he's  with  God  now." 

1  nodded.  That  was  a  fine  thing  to  know. 

Mr.  Fort  placed  the  order  upon  the  kitchen 
table  and  turned  a  questioning  eye  upon  me. 
Did  I  want  to  go  riding  in  his  wagon? 

I  hesitated.  "Mr.  Fort,  there's  my  brother 
Brett  now,"  1  told  him.  "I  think  he'd  like  to 
go  too." 

"Well,  bring  him.  Bring  him." 

It  was  an  odd  thing  about  Mr.  Fort.  I  am 
positive  that  no  one  had  spoken  to  him  of 
Brett  and  yet  Mr.  Fort  did  not  seem  sur- 
prised when  no  answer  was  forthcoming  to 
his  greeting.  Nor  did  he  seek  to  worry  an  ex- 
planation or  apology. 

"This  is  the  same  horse,  isn't  it,  Mr.  Fort? 
That  is  Brownie?" 

"Oh,  yes.  Couldn't  do  without  Brownie." 

"Where  are  we  going,  Mr.  Fort?" 


Ma; 


SMART,  EXCLUSIVE  DESIGN 


Gaily  wrapped. 

Ribbon-tied  .  .  . 
Added  charm 

For  what's  inside. 


GIFT  WRAPPINGS 

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AT   STATIONERY  COUNTE 


CLEAN  AND  BRIGm 
WITH  m  CREAM  THA) 

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Ml         )     O     I      U     \     \  I 


Ivasa  question  Irrjin  loii^'  ;ik().  I  ;,|- 
wantfd  lo  know  wlial  our  (lisiiiiaiion 
()  wlioni  wt!  wm-  dclivfrmn  llic  next 
of  l)utUT  and  vv.v."^. 

dl,  now,  Miss  1.1/.  ni  |,.||  y,„,  "  („. 
"Kacl  is  in  auliimii  inonliis  ihm-  ain't 
innicT  people.  We're  just  nomn  lor  a 

have  lliaiik.  .!  luin  would  have  Iw.  n  to 
•veryliiiiiK.  Instead  I  must  accept  cas- 
what  he  iiad  lo  offer,  as  a  child  accepts 
III  ,11 1'uiiifiii  ,111(1  without  any  show  of 
ulc 

>o  iiiiuli  blow  loi  the  ocean  front  to- 
he  said.  "We'll  inland  a  ways." 
I  so  we  rode  hack  from  the  ocean,  aloru: 
/er  road,  toward  the  hay  and  the  larni- 
()n  the  wmd-hlown  hill  alx>ve  the  hay 
used  and  looked  alKnit  us.  There  was 
iherley  house,  smaller  than  ours  Ihounh 
I  as  lovely.  A  pity,  j  had  alwa\s 
It,  that  It  was  on  the  hay  rather  lhaii 
can. 

.■II,  they're  dilfereiii,"  Aunt  l.;iurel  had 
'Tiiey 're  I'hikidelpiiians." 
ver  understood  why  the  foherleys  had 
ed  the  hay  to  the  ocean  and  I  was 
r  fxillled  hy  I'hiladelphia's  entering  at 
.)  their  decision. 

sat  in  silence  and  looked  at  the  Cohcr-' 
luse.  1  ck)  not  know  what  Mr.  I-'ort 
It  and  1  ck)  not  know  if  lirett  thought 
liut  I  know  what  I  thounht.  I  thouuhl 
ere  I  slraiKlU  and  sttouK  and  heautihil 
I  not  hear  it  if  Conrad  Coherley  did  not 
e.  And  1  lhouv;hl  of  the  day  during  the 
len  Connie  had  called  upon  us. 
leie's  my  ,t;irl?"  he  had  asked 
had  meant  me.  of 
,  and  I  had  man- 
i  smile,  though  it 
)t  an  easy  thin.y  lo 
entlemen  spoke  so 
raillery,  only  when 
a  well-known  fact 
lie  female  in  ques- 
)uld  under  no  cir- 
ances  possibly  be 
ly's  ",uirl."  I  had  ma.na.ued  the  smile 
.   I  had  stood  beside  Connie  and 
up  into  his  .^ray-blue  eyes  and  I  had 
I,  Do  you  know  how  liandsotue  you  ore 
r  unijorm.  beloved?  But  of  course  he 
own. 

Iiad  been  a  lieutenant  and  he  had 
d  to  hear  that  Brett  had  run  off  to  en- 
.'hat  did  he  do  that  for?  The  fool !  The 
one  meets  as  a  private !  You  wouldn't 
,  Miss  Carpenter,  the  inferujr  element 
ids  its  way  into  our  army." 
.  Laurel's  eyes  had  slowly  traveled 
he  shiny,  black  hair  of  the  youn.i; 
ant  all  the  way  down  to  his  shiny, 
loots. 

s,"  she  said,  "is  true  in  all  ranks,  I  pre- 


You  only  hurt  yourself  when 
you  get  mad — that's  a  med- 
ical fact.        -RICHARD  SALE 


le  heard  her  remark  Brett  would  have 
ded  Aunt  Laurel.  He  had  never  liked 
Coberley.  As  children  on  the  ocean 
iiey  had  constantly  fought.  The  un- 
conflict  was  mainly  concerned  with 
's  shameless  passion  for  victory.  There 
nething  within  Connie  that  could  not 
accept  defeat.  He  cheated  and  he  lied 
emerged  the  winner.  And  Brett,  a 
^uritan  without  humor  where  the 
of  truth  was  involved,  would  knock 
down  only  to  have  him  rise  and  re- 
others  that  he  had  whipped  Brett 
ter. 

iled  remembering  and  the  smile  was 
;  for  the  remembering.  It  was  for  that 
masculine  pride  that  placed  honor 
11.  It  would  be  impossible  for  a  woman 
lie  so  wrought  up  over  whether  or  not 
had  been  Jegitimalely  won.  Only 
toys— could  take  a  lifelong  dislike  to 
/  who  claimed  his  eyes  were  closed 
hey  were  wide  open.  Such  childish- 
id  Brett  had  cherished  his  low  opinion 
lie  even  after  they  had  ceased  to  play 
les  of  their  boyhood, 
n't  like  him.  He's  a  liar,"  Brett  had 
lid.  "I  can't  like  a  fellow  I  can't 

I  could  like  Connie  Coberley.  I  could 
n.  To  me  it  was  not  of  monumental 


""IMirlance  that  he  lu-<|  hImhiI  hiH  •imimimuiik 
proweHH  or  iluil  iii  a  fix<i  race  li.-  luid  never 
l)e<  n  overtaken  without  cliiiinuiK  "  •uddni 
injury  to  Iun  ankle  or  kiut-. 

And  I  Hill  ihrri  oii  IhewaKuMand  I  looked 
al  the  hhiidlokled  MindowHof  ihr  ColjtTli-y 
houHt-.  !  thought  thai  if  I  liv.-<l  Ioiik  vxunw.h 
I  would       ilii-  hoiiH,-  inhalmed  l)y  I  orini< 
and  hit  wifr  and  chiklrni  and  I  wondnxl 
how  much  pain  thai  would  hrinij  lo  iiit- 
"Too  had,"  Mr  Fori  tuiid 
1  wan  Hiarlled,  hul  he  ixiiiiii  d  lo  the  Spur- 
ney  farm  and  1  underniiMKl  what  he  meant 
"Oh,  yes,"  I  Hiiid  "li  m  loo  l),id  " 

III' V( INI)  the  Colnrley  pro|xrty  Ixirder- 
inn  u|)on  It,  III  fact  was  a  wimleland  of  wikl 
neglect.  Yearn  m>  when  the  t  olx  rleyn  had 
Ixiuuhl  their  place,  the  SpurneyH  had  had  a 
line.  i)rosix  roiis  acreage.  Now  the  place  wum 
ahaiKkiiu  il  and  had  none  lo  ruin. 

I  1  limed  my  eyes  from  the  dmnial,  br(X)d- 
ing  landsiaiK-  toward  the  splendor  of  the 
C  olxrley  house-  with  its  carefully  lx)arded 
wiiukiws. 

Mr.  Fort  motioned  toward  the  house. 
"Thai  boy  was  in  the 

"!  know,"  I  interrupted.  I  had  btx-omc 
adept  at  fending  off  that  terrible  word. 
"Wonder  how  he  made  out." 
"1  le's  home  safe,"  I  s;iid. 
If  I  was  sure  of  nothing  else.  I  was  sure  of 
that.  Right  up  to  the  surrender  at  Apix)mal- 
tox  I  had  tx'en  a  subscrilx  r  to  tliice  I'liil.idel- 
|)hia  news|)a|)ers. 

Powell  bought  us  a  horse  and  a  small  light 
carriaue  so  that  we  could  be-  free  to  roam  the 
countryside  and  we  ranv;i(l 
far  and  wide.  We  did  not 
always  ride  but  walked 
t(M).  Brett  liked  the  beach 
best,  but  lo  me  it  had  a 
forbidding  asix'ct  at  this 
time  of  the  year.  Under  a 
sunless  sky  the  water  was 
neither  blue  nor  green  but 
only  a  sulky,  grayish  color. 
I  remember  that  we  had  come  in  from  a 
walk  along  the  beach  and  that  Brett  was 
carrying  a  salt-encrusted  log  which  he  meant 
to  burn  in  his  Ix'dioom  fireplace.  I  remember 
that  we  walked  to  the  kitchen  to  beg  a  bowl 
of  hot  soup  from  the  c<x)k.  Mr.  Fort  was 
there.  He  said.  "Oh,  I  got  a  little  news.  The 
Coberley  house  isojx;n." 

The  hammering  began  in  my  temples  and  I 
could  hear  my  heart  ix)und  and  my  tx)dy  Ix'- 
came  one  great  throb  of  excitement. 

"Seems  stranue,  don't  it?  I'm  going  over 
there  tomorrow  to  see  if  they  want  their  de- 
liveries same  as  usual.  It's  o\Kn  all  right." 

"Eat  your  soup,  Brett."  I  said.  "Go  ahead. 
Eat  your  soup." 

And  as  my  brother  ale  I  plotted  ways  in 
which  I  might  leave  him  home  and  ride  by 
myself  to  the  house  on  the  bay.  Connie 
mi.ght  be  there,  I  ihou.ghl,  and  Brett  had 
never  liked  Connie.  He  should  slay  home. 

But  when  we  had  finished  our  soup  Brett 
followed  me  to  the  little  carria.ge  and  I  had 
not  the  heart  to  do  other  than  smile  at  him 
and  take  him  with  me.  And  so  we  rode  inland 
toward  the  bay  and  the  house  that  stood 
upon  the  hill  above  it. 

I  must  tell  you  that  I  never  approached  a 
house  in  the  ordinary  way.  It  had  long  been 
my  custom  to  call  a  lady's  name  from  her 
front  steps,  for  I  had  learned  much  in  my  life- 
time. I  had  discovered  that  one  can  be  for- 
given for  eccentricities  if  only  one  has  had  the 
forethought  to  be  born  misshapen.  I  had 
found  how  lo  dispense  with  the  stupid  ritual 
of  servants  and  "Who  shall  I  Siiy  is  calling?" 
and  "  Will  you  please  step  in  here,  miss."  Just 
call  loudly  enough  and  the  mistress  herself 
will  come  to  the  door. 

I  hitched  our  horse  lo  the  iron  serving  boy 
who  stood  eternally  waiting.  I  remember  how 
I  stood  under  the  dark  sky  and  called  "Mrs. 
Co-ber-ley  "  and  how  the  wind  picked  up  my 
voice  and  carried  it  back  again  to  me.  "Mrs. 
Co-ber-ley." 

And  as  I  waited  I  had  a  presentiment.  Sud- 
denly I  knew  that  something  unusual  was 
about  to  happen.  Something  that  had  never 
happened  before. 

(Continued  on  Page  81) 


It's  a  Springtime  Supper 

^A/s  mcal-\('(j('l(M'-(h'('!;('  smi(/me/i 

> 


Americon 
Pimento 
Switt  '  Bfick 
Sharp  Old  Engliih 
Brand  *  Pasteurized 
Process  Cheeses 

4fso  available  in  Canada 


For  eaeli  serving  spread  a 
slice  of  loasi  with  deviled 
liaiii.  To])  will]  hot  asparagus 
sjtears.  Then,  for  llie  cheese 
to|)piiig.  open  up  a  package 
ol  America's  finest  slices  — 
Kraft  De  Luxe  Slices! 


Slit  the  package  with  a  knife 
on  three  sides.  \  ou  have 
8  sandw  ieli-size  slices  .  .  . 
perfect  .  .  .  extra  delicious! 
riiat  s  because  these  slices 
arc  not  cut  from  a  loaf  but 
formed  right  as  the  fine 
proi-ess  cheese  conies  from 
the  pasteurizers! 


Top  each  serving  with  a 
golden  Kraft  Dc  Luxe  Slice. 
Notice  how  these  slices 
separate  —  "easy  as  peeling 
a  banana"!  (No  slivers  or 
dried  edges,  either!)  Place 
in  a  -4(X)°  oven  until  slices 
melt.  Serve  sandwiches 
hot,  with  tomato  wedges. 


Rewrap  your  remaining 
Kraft  De  Luxe  Slices — press 
the  wrapper  around  them 
snugly.  They'll  keep  beauti- 
fully for  another  treat.  Kraft 
De  Luxe  Slices  are  extra 
good  '"keepers"  because 
their  surfaces  were  never 
roughed  up  with  a  knife! 


LADIES'       ri    O    M    E       J    O    U    I{    N    A  L 


May, 


Why  do  it  the  hard  way? 


rest  easy  on  a 


^  GuoraDteed  by  *^ 
L  Good  Housekeeping  , 


STOOL 


2-B  KITCHEN  STOOL. 
All  enamel,  $3.95 
($4.45  In  zone  2*) 


4-A  STEP  STOOL. 
All  enamel,  $9.95 
($10.45  in  rone  2*) 


2-D  SPECIAL  STOOL.  Fits  right  up  to  table,  sink, 
range.  Chromium  finish,  enamel  trim.  Upholstered 
in  red,  yellow,  gray  crystal,  blue,  black  or  green 
Duron.  $8.95.  ($9.45*) 

9-F  DE  LUXE  POSTURE  BACK  STOOL.  "Work 
high"  seat — sloped  for  comfort.  Back  adjusts  two 
ways,  supports  you  in  every  position.  Chromium 
finish.  Upholstered  in  red,  yellow,  gray  crystal, 
blue,  black  or  green  Duron.  $12.95.  ($13.95*) 

4-D  DE  LUXE  STEP  STOOL.  A  safer  ladder— a 
comfortable  seat.  Rubber-treaded  "swing  away" 
steps  support  1,000  lbs.  Chromium  finish.  Uphol- 


stered in  red,  yellow,  gray  crystal,  blue,  block  or 
green  Duron.  $16.95.  ($17.95*) 

3-G  DE  LUXE  STOOL.  Ideal  for  breakfast  bar 
or  rumpus  room.  Seat  deeply  padded  with  TufFlex 
over  soft  foam  rubber.  Chromium  finish.  Red,  yel- 
low, blue,  green,  block  or  gray  crystal  Duron 
upholstery.  $10.95.  ($11.75*) 

5-B  DE  LUXE  STOOL.  For  bath  or  vanity.  Chro- 
mium finish.  Padded  seat  17"  high.  Tough,  water- 
proof Duran  upholstery  in  rose,  cream,  green,  blue, 
peach,  gray  crystal  or  black.  $10.75.  ($11.45*) 

*  Zone  2  price-  Florida,  Texas  and  U  Western  Sfofes 


Metal  Household  Furniture 


For  the  best  in  quality,  look  for  the  COSCO  Trademark. 


•  Do  away  with  tiresome  "footwork"  ...  do 
your  housework  sitting  down,  sitting  pretty  on 
a  CosGO  Stool!  There's  an  energy -saving  Cosco 
model  to  lighten  every  daily  chore — ironing,  cook- 
ing, washing  dishes.  And  Cosco  colors,  Cosco  styl- 
ing do  wonderful  things  for  any  room — kitchen, 
laundry,  nursery,  bath.  Practical,  too  .  .  .  sturdy, 
long-lasting,  so  easy  to  keep  clean.  See  famous, 
all-steel  Cosco  Stools  today,  at  your  department, 
furniture  or  hardware  store.  •  %  cop...c-t. 

HAMILTON  MANUFACTURING  CORPORATION  .  COLUMBUS,  IND. 

In  Canada:  Cosco  Products  Limited,  Oshawa,  Ont. 


MOTHER!  Drop  the  hint.  Let  'em  know  you'd 
rather  have  a  COSCO  Stool  this  Mother's  Day. 


I     \    1'    I     I  II  u 


Ml         )    II    I      1(     N     \  I, 


OOGOOOOOOO 

Anyone  can  take  me  In 
once;  I  don't  mind  that,  I 
would  rather  be  deceived 
than  deceive,  and  It  makes 
me  laugh  to  have  been 
made  a  fool  of.  But  I  take 
care  not  to  let  the  some 
person  take  me  in  twice. 

—  W.  SOMERSET  MAUGHAM 


(Cuntitiueil  frmn  J'auf  7V) 
1 1  the  door  (lid  open  and  my  brotlier 
,  and  I  saw  lur  for  the  first  time, 
ion. 

id  never  se(Mi  aiiytiiin^  hke  her  nor  liad 
.•ved  that  such  existed.  I  had  thou^;hl 
y  was  somethiiiK  all  iJiiik  and  ^-.old  like 
te.  True,  the  iiihle  iimted  that  once 
had  tieen  beauty  so  overwhellnln^'.,  so 
i-takiuK  that  even  to  na/e  u|)on  u  was 
•r.  I  Ihounht  that  like  many  thiiiKH 
oned  in  the  Hihle  it  had  none  from  the 
)f  our  earth.  Ikit  it  was  here.  Here  on 
)l)erleys'  veranda.  The  lips  like  a  thread 
irlet  and  the  hair  silken  black  or  per- 
urape-piirple  as  the  Hibli'  says.  Wc 
I  at  KiiKli'ina-white  skin  and  at  eyes 
Hashed  a  i)eculiar  amethyst  shade  Ix'- 
thick,  dark  lashes.  And  I  who  am  de- 
1  lor  no  man's  pleasure  na/ed  u|)on  the 
^wellm.i;  hips,  the  liny  waist  and  the 
ously  proporl i(med  breasts  that  almost 
in  their  ea^;erness  from  the  tiKlU, 
bascjuc  she  wore. 

uind  my  voice  at  last.  "Sorry  to  have 
led  you."  I  said  uncertainly. 

.smiled  a  lazy,  IrieiKlly  smile  at  us, 
y,  you  didn't  trouble  me  none,"  she  said, 
hty  ;;lad  to  have  someone  call." 
1  only  the  way  she  s|)oke  could  have 
ed  me  more  than  her  beauty,  for  there 
lo  doubt  about  it.  This  was  a  secesh 
n.  I  had  heard  that 
drifting;  talk  before. 
;lanced  uneasily  at 

for  it  was  not  a  far 
t  he  matter  of  lhout;lu 
at  ion  from  this  carc- 
jlurrcd  sj^eech  lo  a 
yell  on  the  bloody 
f  Fredericksburg, 
e  had  heard  thai 
Cobcrley  was  here." 
e  secesh  woman 
id,  "Why  then  I 
you're  ri.t;hl  in  a  way, 

as  that's  who  I  am. 
Connie  Cobcrley." 
p  not  think  that  my  expression  changed 
t  I  paled.  Actually  when  the  moment 
,  when  the  worst  happens,  there  we 
ying  the  right  thing,  doing  wiiat  we 
been  taught  to  do  as  though  all  our 
ad  been  merely  a  rehearsal  for  disaster, 
pleasure,  Mrs.  Coberley,"  I  said.  "I 

3u  are  Elizabeth  Carpenter,"  she  inler- 
1,  "and  this  is  your  brother,  Brett. 

in,  won't  you?  Got  nothing  to  offer 
;cept  a  little  conversation." 
lon't  think  so.  thank  you.  My  brother 
i'ell  and  I  think  it  might  rain." 

turned  her  strange  eyes  upon  Brett 
lughed  at  him.  "Not  well?  Why,  I 
saw  a  man  look  so  good  in  my  whole 
top  fooling  me,  will  you?  Walk  in." 
hout  downright  rudeness  I  could  pro- 
)  further.  I  entered  and  behind  me  the 
woman  came,  urging  Brett  by  clinging 
arm. 

)n't  you  want  to  come  with  me?"  she 
him.  "  If  you  don't,  honey,  then  you're 
kind  of  man."  And  she  tossed  her  head 
)ened  her  beautiful  mouth  wide  to  roar 
lughter. 

nnot  explain  why  I  felt  sick  at  that  mo- 
I  am  not  certain  that  it  was  because 
e  Coberley  had  married  a  coarse 
n.  It  may  have  been  only  that  the  art- 
it  lurks  in  all  of  us  w  as  pained  by  this 
ation  of  such  heavenly  beauty, 
secesh  woman  looked  at  me  and  saw 
liing  in  my  face  that  hushed  her  laugh- 
le  said,  "  Isn't  it  awful  how  I  go  on?  No 
in  me,  you  know.  .lust  high  spirits." 
were  in  the  parlor  of  the  Coberley  place 
ven  the  flaming  brightness  of  the 
n's  beauty  did  not  dispel  the  funereal 
the  room.  The  mirrors  were  shrouded 
le  chilliness  of  the  place  suggested  that 
being  kept  cool  for  a  rather  unpleasant 
1.  But  there  was  no  casket.  There  were 
lie  secesh  woman  and  we  Carpenters  in 
oberley  parlor.  There  was  something 
»o.  Six  apples,  an  agate  saucepan  half 
milk,  and  a  piece  of  common  kitchen 
:  from  which  a  bite  had  been  talven. 


lo<jkM 


"You'll  luive  lo  cKCUic  Ihc  way  llie  lAacv 
Jks.  Haven't  done  a  thiiiK  yel.  Don't  plan 
on  using  the  whole  hount-,  (»f  coumt-.  I'll  junt 
live  III  lu  re  and  in  one  Ix-tirwim." 
"You're  here  alone?" 
"Why,  of  toursf,  lioney,  except  fur  my 
baby.  I  didn't  tell  you  I  had  a  baby,  did  I '  1 
sure  got  one.  Want  to  mt-  her?" 

I  sh<H)k  my  hia<l.  "No."  I  siiid.  "No," 
"No?"  She  looked  at  me  unUlievinKly 
"  What 's  tlie  mat  ter  ?  I  >on't  you  like  h.ibieit ?  " 

It  seemed  to  me  that  it  didn'i  mailer  what 
I  sjiid.  This  was  a  dream.  It  couldn't  Ix-  other 
than  a  dream.  Ilowcouki  it  Ik' reality  when  I 
was  standing  in  the  Colx-rley  parlor  with  a 
secesh  woman  who  was  Connie's  wife  and  the 
mother  of  his  child? 

"No,  I  don't  like  babies." 
She  shrugged.  "Some  women  don'l.  Cf)n>e 
to  think  of  it.  what  are  you  anyhow  ?  Are  you 
a  woman  or  a  little  girl?  Can't  tell  for  llie  life 
of  me  by  just  l(X)king  at  you." 
"I'm  nine  years  old,"  I  said. 
"Oh.  Is  that  all?"  She  studied  me  with  a 
deep  frown  for  a  moment  and  then  smiled. 
"No,  you  don't.  You  don't  f(X)l  me  like  thai. 
Nine  years  old  !  I  Ik  i  you're  old  as  I  am." 

"Maybe."  I  had  already  made  my  guess  as 
to  her  age.  Twenty-four  or  -live  seemed 
likely. 

I  was  gralehil  thai  she  had  forgotten  about 
the  baby.  1  would  have  lo  see  it,  of  course. 
Sometime.  But  for  the  moment  it  was  enough 
to  see  her,  this  woman  who 
was    Connie    Coberley 's 
wife. 

"I  don't  think  I  even 
told  you  my  name,  did  I  ?" 
the  strange  woman  wen  ton, 
'It's  Brandon.  Folks  call 
ine  Brandy,  of  course.  Con- 
nii'  and  I  were  married 
down  home  during  the 
war." 

"That  was  romantic,"  I 
sjiid.  "Where  is  he  now?" 
I  had  lo  ask. 

"He's  in  Europe.  Can 
you  imagine?" 
"No."  I  turned  toward  her,  startled  and 
interested. 

She  said,  "Oh,  it's  a  pretty  bad  thing.  His 
folks,  you  know.  They  don't  like  his  marry- 
ing me.  The  war  is  over  but  they  don't  want 
to  believe  it.  They're  still  mad  at  people  born 
south." 

I  was  not  sure  of  that.  It  was  possible,  of 
course,  but  there  was  the  great  probability 
that  the  Coberleys  had  hoped  for  something 
more  cultivated  in  the  way  of  a  daughter-in- 
law. 

"Have  they  met  you?" 

"Met  me!  Honey,  I've  been  in  Philadel- 
phia for  months  in  that  clammy  old  museum 
they  call  a  home.  I  just  couldn't  stand  it  no 
more,  especially  after  they  all  went  off  to 
Europe  and  left  me  and  the  baby  alone  with 
Grandpa  Perry." 

Thei?e  was  a  ray  of  humor  in  the  thought. 

Wispy  little  Grandpa  Perry  closed  up  in  a 
house  with  this  Brandon. 

"You  see,  honey,  they  had  planned  on  tak- 
ing Connie  on  the  grand  tour  when  the  war 
was  over.  They  w'ere  right  disappointed 
when  he  came  home  married.  They  said  the 
tour  was  off,  and  they  said  it  just  broke  their 
poor  hearts  'cause  they'd  so  planned  on  it  and 
I  just  sal  Connie  down  and  I  said  lo  him,  'Now-, 
honey,  I  don't  want  you  disappointing  your 
folks.  You  go  just  like  I  never  happened  and 
I'll  wail  right  here  for  you.'" 

That  had  been  decent  of  the  girl.  No  one 
could  ask  more  of  her  than  that.  And  Connie 
had  gone  to  Europe  and  left  her  alone.  Speak- 
ing generally  it  was  not  a  nice  thing  for  a  man 
to  do.  but  Connie  Coberley  had  done  il  and  so  I 
thought  il  would  be  unfair  to  judge  without 
knowing  all  the  facts. 

"But  Grandpa  Perry  got  so  disagreeable 
after  they  w  as  all  gone  thai  I  just  said  to  him 
I  was  going  to  come  here.  You  know  what  he 
said?  He  said,  'The  key's  at  the  livery  stable 
in  the  village  and  you  can  run  a  bill  at  the 
farms  for  all  the  food  you  need.'  Seems  like 
he  was  right  glad  to  have  me  go,  don't  it?  So 
that's  the  whole  story.  Say,  don't  your 
brother  never  say  nothing?" 


"//ejv's/n^  reesoo  for 
Biwsys  Imdering 
with  CLOROX! 


CLOROX  makes  linens 
it  makes  them^ 


When  it's  CLOROX-clean . . .  it's  SAFER  for  family  health 


82 


LADIES'       HOME       J    O    U    R    N   A  i;. 


May, 


DONT^^CHOKE" 
IINY  SKIN  GLANDS 

with  DRY, 
DEAD  SKIN  CELiS! 

AMAZINGLY  EFFECTIVE  l-MINUTE  MASK 

DISSOLVES  OFF  STUBBORN,  DRIED  PARTICLES! 

LIGHTENS...  BRIGHTENS... 
SOFTENS  SKIN! 

Perhaps  you  think  that  you  can't  really  do  much 
about  changing  or  improving  the  surface  appearance 
of  your  skin.  Actually,  every  day  nature  is  "manu- 
facturing" fresh  new  cells,  which  are  building  up 
from  beneath.  As  these  plump,  new  cells  appear,  the 
old  cells  dry  up,  die,  and  are  sloughed  off. 

But  some  skins  are  slower  at  "sloughing  o^'  these 
flaky,  dead  skin  cells.  They  accumulate  on  the  skin 
surface — layer  upon  layer — until  they  begin  to 
"choke"  the  tiny  sebaceous  and  sweat  glands.  Your 
skin  begins  to  dull,  flake — and  worst  of  all,  pores 
begin  to  enlarge  .  .  .  blackheads  are  apt  to  appear. 
Your  skin  takes  on  a  drab,  not  quite  clean  look. 

Now — Pond's  brings  you  a  remarkable  treatment 
to  help  speed  up  a  too-slow  sloughing  off  of  dead 
skin  debris.  It's  quick.  It's  easy.  It's  effective! 


clears  off  "choked" 

pore  openinjgs  in  one  minute! 

Just  do  this:  Cover  face,  except 
eyes  with  a  lavish  1 -Minute  Mask 
of  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream.  Leave 
on  one  minute.  The  Cream's 
"keratolytic"  action  loosens 
stubborn,  dead  skin  cells.  Dissolves 
them  off!  Frees  the  tiny  skin  gland 
openings  to  function  normally. 
Now — after  60  seconds — tissue 
clean.  See  how  delightfully  fresh 
and  tingling  your  skin  feels.  How 
much  brighter  it  looks.  Smoother, 
clearer  .  .  .  even  lighter! 


In  one  minute — a  smoother,  clearer  skin! 


Smooth  on  a  thin  film  of  Pond's  Vanishing  Cream  for  powder  base. 
This  sheer  greaseless  base  never  looks  cakey  or  obvious  .  .  .  gives  a 
fine-textured,  smooth  make-up. 


"He's  thinking  about  building  a  fire  in 
here,"  I  said.  "Aren't  you,  Brett?" 

"Yes,"  he  said  but  he  did  not  move.  He 
stood  as  he  had  stood  from  the  beginning 
watching  the  secesh  woman,  never  taking  his 
eyes  from  her  wonderful  face. 

"I'll  show  you  where  the  wood  is,"  she 
said. 

"He  knows  how  to  find  it,"  I  told  her,  but 
she  went  with  him.  I  was  disturbed  to  hear 
her  laughter  ring  out  from  the  far  corner  of 
the  basement  where  they  had  gone  together. 

When  they  came  back  Brett  built  the  fire 
and  I  told  her  that  Mr.  Fort  would  be  along 
tomorrow  and  I  asked  if  she  needed  anything. 

"You  don't  happen  to  have  a  candle  with 
you,  do  you?  Seems  like  I  can't  find  none  and 
there's  not  a  drop  of  oil  for  the  lamps." 

We  had  no  candle  with  us  but  she  waved 
aside  my  offer  to  drive  to  the  store  for  her. 

"I'll  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  it's  dark,"  she 
said.  "Thanks  for  stopping  by." 

'  It  was  a  pleasure," 
I  said  stiffly. 

"Come  again,  won't 
you?  Say  you'll  come 
tomorrow,  honey." 

I  was  about  to  reply 
but  fortunately  I  caught 
myself  in  time.  She  had 
not  been  speaking  to 
me.  She  had  been  speak- 
ing to  Brett  and  the 
amethyst  eyes  were 
alight  with  a  curious 
fire  that  I  did  not  un- 
derstand but  only 
feared. 

And  as  we  droveaway 
from  her  she  found 
something  — God 
knows  what— at  which 
to  laugh  and  the  laugh- 
ter traveled  with  the 
wind  and  followed  us 
down  the  slope  of  the 
hill  and  homeward 
through  the  bare  trees. 
I  thought  her  very 
brave  to  stand  there 
laughing  all  alone  with- 
out a  candle  to  turn 
back  the  night. 


The  storm  broke 
that  night  with  a  fury 
that  let  no  one  rest. 
The  wind  screamed  and 
the  house  seemed  to 
shiver  and  cringe  with 
fear  as  the  howling 
voices  of  the  storm  mounted  and  the  rain 
fell  in  torrents. 

I  stood  in  the  bay  window  on  the  second 
floor  and  watched  the  great  waves  as  they 
thundered  toward  the  beach  and  died  there 
in  frothing  rage.  In  the  room  behind  me  my 
brother's  mind  had  gone  back  to  Fredericks- 
burg and  once  more  he  marched  through  the 
blood  of  men  who  had  been  his  comrades. 
And  sometimes  I  could  not  distinguish 
whether  the  eerie  cries  in  the  night  were  born 
of  the  storm  or  of  the  battle  my  brother 
fought. 

Powell  came  into  the  corridor  and  hurried 
downstairs.  He  did  not  speak  to  me  but  as  I 
turned  I  saw  upon  his  face  a  look  of  puzzle- 
ment. 

When  he  returned  he  carried  a  tray. 

"This  never  happened  before,  Liz."  he 
whispered,  "but  it  can't  do  any  harm  and  he 
asked  for  it." 

I  looked  down  at  the  tray.  Powell  had 
understood  Brett's  murmured  yearning  and 
yet  had  not  understood  it.  On  the  tray  was 
what  Brett  had  asked  for  and  yet  had  not 
asked  for.  On  the  tray  was  a  bottle  of  brandy. 

There  is  a  knowledge  shared  by  all 
women  who  have  been  acquainted  with  well- 
equipped  homes.  A  navigating  sense,  one 
<night  call  it,  by  which  it  is  possible  actually 
to  feel  where  one  will  find  the  linen  room  and 
to  know  what  will  be  upon  the  shelves  and  in 
the  drawers. 

Brandy  had  no  such  knowledge.  She  had 
not  even  known  where  to  seek  out  the  things 
she  needed. 


How  Long? 

By  Graee  Armstrong  Allen 

I  wonder  how  long  the  bees  have 
been  humming. 
David  heard  them,  Isaiah  too. 
With  empires  rising,  fighting, 
succumbing— 
Persian,  Egyptian,  Roman,  Jew- 
Murmurous  bees  were  coming  and 
going 

From  vineyard  and  fig  tree  to 
lotus  and  thyme 
With  this  same  hum.  Age, 
overthrowing 
Proud  cities,  writes  Finis  in  silt 
and  lime. 
But  not  for  the  bees.  Bees  shall  be 
humming 
While  men  make  homes  and 
sunlight  streams 
And  girls  walk  in  gardens  and 
spring  keeps  coming 
And  young  men  see  visions  and 
old  men  dreams. 


I  asked  her  if  the  storm  had  frightene 
and  I  drew  scornful  laughter  for  my 
tion. 

"I  don't  scare,  honey,"  she  said 
know  what  the  feeling's  like.  Wouldn't: 
nize  it  if  I  got  it." 

"You'd  recognize  it." 

"Tell  you  one  thing  I  know—  I  kno 
I'm  cold,"  she  told  me.  "Guess  this 
being  just  a  summer  place  they  don'1 
no  covers." 

M  LED  the  way  upstairs.  I  may  tell  yoJ 
never  before  had  I  opened  a  door  in  tlv 
berley  house,  but  unerringly  I  walked  ; 
linen  room  and  pointed  out  a  tremei 
stock  of  blankets,  quilts  and  comforter 
She  had  spent  the  night  in  the  main 
room,  having  chosen  it  because  it  wa 
largest  and  most  elegantly  furnished. 

I  made  a  suggestion  now  and  s 
shadow  of  disappointment  cross  her  fa 
"Why  should  I 
in  that  itty-bitt 
room,  honey,  wh( 
body's  here  and  , 
have  the 

big  " 

"I  mentionedil 
itty-bitty  old  roc 
cause  it's  easifl 
heat,"  I  said.  " 
ever,  please  suit 
self." 

She  stood  irres! 
looking  sullen  and 


but  she  dragged  a 
blankets   down  i 
the  shelf  and 
them  on  the  bed 
small  room  at  th 
of  the  hall. 

"I  always  had !n 
ants  to  do  these  I'li 
for  me,"  she  said; 
I  nodded  gravt  ', 
Of  course  it 
have  been  good  i 
for  her  to  have  s 
on  the  kitchen  \v 
her    living  qua 
using  the  servant 
ting  room  as  her  o 
did  not  voice  th  i 
gestion,  for  it  si 
clear  that  shewoi '. 
relish  it.  Instead, 
ceeded  to  give  H 
ders  that  would  r ; 
the  parlor  to  a  st 
comfort  and  attrj ; 
ness.  Under  my  directions  Brandy  and 
set  to  work  stripping  the  dust  sheets  frc ' 
furniture  and  the  cheesecloth  from  th  i 
rors.  When  the  coarse  runners  were  rei 
from  the  carpet  Brandy  flung  hersell  i 
the  deep,  silky  pile  and  lay  stretcht  . 
length  at  our  feet.  ' 
"I'm  sure  tired,"  she  said.  ^ 
I  turned  my  eyes  away  from  the  ti ; 
black  hair,  the  flushed  cheeks  ani  \ 
rounded,  heaving  bosom,  but  I  knewf 
Brett  had  not  turned  away.  No  man  ' 
And  I  was  relieved  when  I  heard  th 
wailing  in  the  room  upstairs. 

Brandy  looked  at  me  in  mock  d 
"Just  when  I'm  so  tired.  Go  shake  th 
ing  chair  a  bit,  will  you,  honey? 

I  smiled  down  into  the  amethyst^ 
"You  know  I'm  not  really  nine  years  ( 
said,  "and,  if  you  recall,  I  don't  like  ba  i. 

"Don't  like  'em  much  myself  whe  I 
this  tired,"  she  said.  But  she  scramb  i 
her  feet  and  ran  lightly  up  the  stairs. 

She  brought  the  baby  with  her  whi  st 
returned.  It  was  a  very  damp  baby  anc::o 
curred  to  me  that  the  fine  pillow  slip'th 
belonged  to  the  senior  Mrs.  Coberley  iigi 
discover  themselves  in  strange  servio  1*) 
where  had  I  sighted  a  trace  of  luggage  CiW 
a  single  object  apart  from  Brandy's  'lo: 
that  was  not  being  worn  at  this  mom(  It  t 
the  child  or  its  mother 

"Well,  this  is  the  baby,"  she  anno  ce 
Politeness  demanded  my  inspectio  kSi 
lowered  the  child  to  the  level  of  my  'm 
and  I  saw— or  perhaps  imagined  Hit 
(Continued  on  Page  84)  ! 


'•     ^     I'     I      I       ^  ■         II     O     \|      I  /     II     (       It      N      \  I 


HIGH  TIME  TO  SET  THE  TABLE 


Distant  cities  become  suburbs  when  you  fly.  You  can  enjoy  so  many  more 
pleasant  hours  at  home.  Last  year  more  than  two  million  passengers 
preferred  Capital  Airlines.  Dependable,  friendly  service  has  been  a 
Capital  tradition  for  26  years.  Isn't  it  High  Time  you  tried  it? 


Cauttal 


GiRARD  PeRREGAUX,  Official  Watch 
/ 


Over  300  Flights  Daily  Between  75  Major  Cities   •   Call  your  TRAVEL 


VEL  AGENT  or  .  .  .  M  AIRLINES 


84 


LAD    I    E    S  ' 


11    O    M  E 


JOURNAL 


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(Continued  from  Page  82) 
saw— Connie  Coberley's  eyes  looking  up  into 
mine. 

And  I  turned  away  suddenly  tired,  too, 
though  I  had  done  no  more  than  supervise 
the  work  that  the  others  had  done. 

When  we  left  that  day  I  had  the  feeling 
that  we  had  been  as  neighborly  as  anyone 
could  reasonably  expect.  The  larder  was 
stocked  and  Mr.  Fort  had  the  Coberley 
house  under  his  regular  care  now.  For  my 
part,  I  was  finished  with  Brandon. 

I  remember  that  it  rained  very  hard  that 
night  and  that  within  our  sitting  room  there 
was  an  atmosphere  of  great  coziness  and 
charm.  Aunt  Laurel  knitted,  the  firelight 
edging  the  darkness  of  her  skirt,  and  Brett 
sprawled  on  the  floor  beside  her  chair  staring 
into  the  flames.  Powell  and  I  sat  close  to  the 
table  where  the  lamp  burned  strong.  I  was 
deep  in  a  Scott  romance  and  I  was  startled 
when  I  heard  Brett  speak. 

"She's  Connie  Coberley's  wife,"  he  said. 

"Who  is,  darling?"  Aunt  Laurel  asked 
gently.  "Is  Connie  Coberley  married?" 

"Yes,"  Brett  said.  "She's  his  wife." 

Aunt  Laurel  put  down  her  knitting  and 
turned  to  me  questioningly. 

"He's  right,"  I  said.  "She's  here  in  the 
Coberley  house.  We've  visited  her." 

"Really?"  Aunt  Laurel  went  back  to  her 
knitting.  "Strange  that  I  never  read  that  he 
had  married.  What  is  the  girl  like?" 

"She  has  a  baby,"  Brett  said.  "A  very 
little  one." 

"Oh?"  Aunt  Laurel  again  turned  to  me 
for  confirmation  and  I  nodded.  "How  long 
have  they  been  married  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,  Aunt  Laurel." 

"She's  a  Southerner,"  Brett  said  un- 
expectedly. 

Aunt  laurel  gazed  into  the  fire  and  men- 
tioned that  there  certainly  must  have  been 
nice  Philadelphia  or  New  York  girls  that 
Connie  could  have  married  and  then  her 
voice  trailed  off  and  for  a  time  there  was 
silence. 

No  one  spoke  until  Brett  pulled  himself 
off  the  floor  and  went  to  the  kitchen  in  search 
of  something  to  munch.  Then  Aunt  Laurel 
spoke  again.  "  What  is  she  doing  here,  Eliza- 
beth, at  this  time  of  year?" 

I  yawned.  "A  long  story.  Aunt  Laurel. 
And  please  don't  fret  about  inviting  her  over. 
She's  a  boresome  female,  being  both  stupid 
and  coarse." 

"Well,"  Aunt  Laurel  said,  "if  she  is  coarse 
I  certainly  hope  that  you  won't  call  on  her 
again." 

One  day  in  the  middle  of  the  following 
week  I  awoke  to  a  raw,  wild  wind  blowing 
from  the  sea  and  I  thought  that  it  would  be  a 
fine  day  to  stay  home,  to  read  and  perhaps 
to  doze  a  little  beside  the  sitting-room  fire. 
The  cook  was  baking  gingerbread  and  some- 
thing heavy  with  cinnamon  was  filling  the 
air  with  delight.  I  picked  up  my  copy  of 
Scott  and  made  for  the  kitchen.  There  I 
found  my  brother. 

He  was  bending  over  the  table  watching 
as  the  cook  filled  a  basket.  She  added  a  jar  of 
preserves  and  a  small  poundcake  to  what- 
ever else  the  basket  contained. 

"What's  this?"  I  asked. 

"  Well,  in  a  way  it's  cookies,"  the  cook  said. 

"Really?  In  what  way  is  it  cookies?"  I 
spoke  sharply  because  it  was  clear  that  some- 
how the  cook  had  known  that  my  approval 
would  be  lacking.  • 

"The  young  man  likes  my  cookies.  He 
wanted  some  for  a  friend  so  I  just  put  in  a 
few  extra  little  things  we  don't  need,  miss." 

I  turned  to  Brett.  "The  weather  is  vile. 
I'm  not  going  to  get  la  grippe  just  to  bring 
cookies  to  " 

Brett  picked  up  the  basket  and  walked  to- 
ward the  back  door  and  I  realized  that  he  in- 
tended to  go  without  me. 

I  put  my  book  aside  and  got  my  weather 
cloak  and  followed  Brett  out  to  the  stable. 
He  was  angry  at  me.  I  could  feel  his  resent- 
ment though  his  silence  was  no  deeper  than 
usual,  his  gaze  no  more  shadowed. 

We  followed  the  muddy  road  inland  and 
the  wind  blew  across  us  with  its  penetrating 
chill  and  all  the  way  to  the  Coberley  house  I 


For  Floors 
That  Get  The 
Hardest  Wear 


In  Homes 

That  Get  the  Finest  Care 
★It's  Old  Enghsh  Dri  Brite 


No  other  floor  wax  can  match  the  record 
of  Old  English  Dri-Brite,  famous  for 
quality  for  more  than  half  a  century.  This 
luxury  wax  beautifies  and  protects  the 
floors  of  fine  homes  and  busy  public 
buildings  with  its  mirror  bright,  hard 
gloss  lustre  ...  a  lustre  which  remains 
undulled  by  frequent  damp  moppings. 
Let  Dri-Brite  give  your 
floors  a  super-shine! 


WE  GUARANTEE  ynll  will 
like  Old  English  Dn-Brite 
liettcr  ihuii  iiny  sflf-putishing 
/liu.y  \uu  ever  used  .  .  . 
n, "  "/  l>ria-  .  .  .  nr 
yiiiir  mtiih'y  will  i>e  refunded. 


*DRI  BRITE 


THE  ORIGINAL  SELF  POLISHING  FLOOR  WAX 


%z^-^o  Silence 


in  youp 
Bathroom/ 


•  Any  licensed  plumber  can  quickly  silence  the 
noise  of  a  refilling  water  closet  tank  with  a  pat- 
ented Duck-Bill  Hush  Tube.  Stop  objectionable 
noises  and  save  your  guests  embarrassment. 
Automatically  gives  proper  water  flow  at  all  pres- 
sures. For  old  or  new  homes.  Over  one-half  million 
in  use.   Fully  guaranteed.   Ask  your  plumber  or 

Writ^fop  free  folder 

.^^  nUMBING  BRASS  Slu^f 

BRASS  WORKS 

ROCKFORD  •  ILLINOIS 


I.     \     \l     \      I       ^  Ml) 


tliout^lit  of  llie  warmlli  of  llic  kilchcn  I  had 
left  tu'liind. 

Brandy  had  hiiill  no  (ire.  She  was  wearing; 
liiT  cloak.  Till'  l)al)y,  lyiriK  iijion  a  velvet 
sofa,  was  wrapped  in  the  table  pad. 

"Will  you  build  a  fire,  honey?"  she  asked 
Brett. 

She  thanked  us  for  the  basket  and  won- 
dered if  it  would  be  safe  to  feed  the  preserves 
to  the  baby. 

When  the  lire  burned  bri^ihlly  she  |)ul  her 
cloak  aside  and  sealetl  lu'rself  on  the  floor. 
She  broke  olf  a  i)iece  of  poundcake  and 
popped  it  into  her  mouth. 

"(Had  you  came,"  she  said.  "It  ^.vls  lone- 
some." 

I  HAD  no  doubt  that  she  did  indeed  find 
lime  wei^;hin),'  heavily.  Here  in  the  Coberley 
house  there  were  liooks  and  certainly  sewing 
material,  but  I  had  a  strong  suspicion  that 
her  own  insulliciencies  would  withhold  these 
l)leasures  from  her. 

"Let's  sin^,"  she  said  suddenly.  "Down 
home  we  always  sinn  when  we're  sitlinn 
around  with  nothing  to  do."  She  k)()ked  ex- 
pectantly at  Brett,  "do  ahead,  honey,  sini; 
somethintj." 

I  le  did  not  reply  and  she  was  disajipointed. 

"Tell  a  story  then,"  she  urged  and  when 
he  still  did  not  answer  she  was  at  a  loss  to 
understand. 

"We  don't  know  any  songs  or  stories,"  I 
said.  "We  are  woefully  dull." 

"  Everybody  knows 
a  song  or  a  story," 
she  said  sulkily. 
"Down  home  we  got 
people  who  just  make 
up  a  song  and  sing  it 
without  even  think- 
ingt  wice.  Why ,  I  know 
a  little  girl  down 

home   "  She 

broke  off  and  her  eyes 
clouded.  "Well,  any- 
way, I  bet  you  just 
couldn't  mention 
nothing  that  she 
wouldn't  have  a  song  about  right  that  min- 
ute." Her  eyes  went  back  to  Brett  and  the 
strange  color  of  them  deepened  till  they  were 
almost  purple  and  she  said  to  him,  "What's 
the  matter  with  you?" 

She  moved  closer  to  him  across  the  silky 
carpet  and  looked  up  into  his  face  and  when 
he  did  not  smile  she  placed  her  hand  upon 
his  knee  to  draw  attention.  And  he  reached 
out  and  covered  her  hand  with  his. 

"  I  thought  you  were  mad  at  me,"  she  said. 

He  still  did  not  answer,  but  he  looked 
down  at  her  hand  and  then  into  those  curious 
eyes  of  hers  and  I  knew  he  was  conscious  of 
her  and  of  all  the  pleasure  and  beauty  of  her, 
for  their  glances  held  as  though  a  spell  had 
been  cast  upon  them. 

"The  wind  has  died  down,"  I  said  and 
they  became  aware  of  me. 

Brandy  took  her  hand  from  Brett's  and 
she  laughed,  but  there  was  a  new  quality  in 
her  laughter. 

"Shall  we  go  for  a  ride?  "  I  asked.  "  Would 
you  like  that,  Brandy?" 

"I  sure  w'ould.  I  haven't  been  out  of  this 
old  house  since  I  got  into  it." 

It  seemed  a  good  idea  to  me,  for  it  would 
get  us  away  without  our  visit  seeming  to  end 
too  abruptly.  After  the  ride  we  had  only  to 
drop  her  at  the  door  without  re-entering. 

She  reached  for  her  cloak  and  flung  it 
about  her  shoulders.  "This  is  really  right  nice 
of  you." 

"The  baby?"  I  asked.  "Does  she  stay 
here?" 

"Why,  sure.  Nothing  here  to  hurt  her." 

Brandy  went  to  Brett  and  linked  her  arm 
through  his.  "Come  on,  honey,  I'm  just 
dying  for  a  little  air." 

She  hurried  him  out  the  door  and  I  fol- 
lowed my  brother  and  Brandy  toward  the 
carriage.  Her  laughter  rode  upon  the  wind, 
but  even  so  I  heard  the  voice  when  it  spoke. 

"How  are  you.  Brandy?" 

I  looked  about  me  and  saw  no  one,  but  I 
knew  that  I  had  not  imagined  the  voice,  for 
I  saw  Brett's  head  lift.  There  was  no  indica- 
tion that  Brandon  had  heard  and  yet  I  knew 
that  she  had. 


"I low  are  you,  Brandy?" 

The  voice  was  male  but  il  was  twin  in 
accent  to  Brandy's  own  A  secesh  voice. 

"How  are  you.  Brandy?" 

And  now  I  located  il.  It  was  coming  from 
the  stand  of  trees  just  fx'yond  the  curve  of 
the  Coberley  property  line.  The  trees  were 
on  Spurney  farmland  anrl  propped  up  against 
one  of  them  was  an  ill-fated,  tragic  t)oy.  lie 
had  the  look  of  a  hound  (kig,  sharj),  bright 
but  sorrowful.  He  was  shabbily  flress<'d  but 
someone  had  furnished  a  rough  blanket  for 
him  to  rest  u|X)n.  They  had  pitied  him,  I  su|)- 
posed.  and  well  they  might,  for  the  tx)y  was 
missing  an  arm  and  a  leg. 

As  I  walked  toward  liim  he  changed  his 
tune.  "How  are  you,  Billy?"  he  called.  This 
was  directed  at  Brett  and  I  knew  that  in  all 
g(M)d  nature  it  should  have  been  answered 
by  a  careless,  "How  are  you,  .lolinny?"  but 
Brett  gave  him  no  more  notice  than  Brandy 
had  given.  I  let  them  go  ahead  and  I  six)ke 
to  the  lx)y,  for  no  one  else  had  done  so. 

"Why  wouldn't  he  answer  me?"  the  hty 
asked  in  an  iiijured  lone 

I  said,  "He  mearU  no  harm.  Perhaps  he 
didn't  hear  you." 

"He  heard  me  all  right.  Who  is  he  any- 
way?" 

"He's  my  brother.  Who  are  you?" 
"I'm  a  fellow  that  got  an  arm  and  a  leg 
shot  off." 
"I'm  sorry." 

"Like  hell  you  are.  Yankee,  ain'tcha?" 

He  had  a  point 
there  which  I  could 
not  arj,ue. 

"Yes,  I'm  a  Yan- 
kee," I  said.  "Brandy 
an  old  friend  of 
yours?  " 

He  studied  me  with 
a  hard,  blue  gaze  and 
asked : 

"You  didn't  hear 
her  answer,  did 
you?" 

"That's  right.  I 
didn't." 

"Well,  then  I  guess  we're  not  old  friends. 
I  guess  she  don't  know  me." 

"But  you  called  her  by  name." 

He  raised  his  eyes  to  the  baleful  sky  above 
us.  "Lord  Jesus,"  he  demanded,  "do  I  gotta 
lay  out  in  this  filthy  wind  and  get  pestered 
besides  by  every  crazy,  nosy  Yankee  brat 
who's  got  a  question?" 

I  was  accustomed  to  being  mistaken  for  a 
child  but  it  pleased  me  that  in  his  appeal 
to  the  Lord  he  had  not  called  attention  to 
my  crooked  back.  "I'll  go  if  I  annoy  you." 

"Go  then." 

I  walked  away  leaving  him  out  there  in 
the  cold  wind  beneath  the  naked,  tragic 
trees.  As  I  drew  near  the  carriage  I  could  hear 
Brandy's  laugh. 

I  said  to  her,  "Who  is  that  boy?" 

"How  should  I  know?" 

"He  knows  you,"  I  said. 

"Does  he?"  She  eyed  me  with  amuse- 
ment. "That  boy  followed  me  here.  Sits  out 
there  like  that  every  day.  Disappointed  lover, 
that's  all.  He's  just  wild  for  me  and  what  can 
I  do?  I'm  married."  She  faced  me,  her  eyes 
wide  with  what  she  hoped  was  a  reflection 
of  her  virtue  and  innocence.  "  I  have  a  hus- 
band. I  can't  be  nice  to  just  anybody  who 
happens  to  fall  in  love  with  me.  Now  can  1  ?  " 

1  PICKED  up  the  reins  and  bade  our  horse 
take  us  away  from  here.  But  I  knew  that 
wherever  we  went  we  were  taking  danger 
with  us,  for  Brandy  was  beside  me,  her  arm 
still  linked  through  Brett's. 

"You  must  have  known  that  boy  before 
you  knew-  Connie,"  1  said. 

"Oh,  I  sure  did." 

"And  he  was  in  love  with  you?" 

"Don't  sound  so  surprised.  I  had  cjuite  a 
few  fellows  in  love  with  me.  I  couldn't  marry 
everybody  who  wanted  me.  W'ouldn't  you 
rather  have  Connie  Coberley?" 

Rather  than  what?  Than  my  eyes  or  my 
ears?  Yes,  I'd  rather  have  Connie  Coberley. 

"Oh,  maybe,"  I  said.  "It's  possible." 

"Sure  you  would,  honey.  Anyhow,  who'd 
want  that  raggle-taggle  little  nothing?  He 
ain't  even  a  whole  person  any  more." 


Only  when  thinking  becomes  quite 
humble  can  it  set  its  feet  upon  the 
way  that  leads  to  knowledge.  The 
more  profound  a  religion  is  the  more 
it  realizes  that  what  it  knows  through 
belief  is  little  compared  with  what  it 
does  not  know. 

—  ALBERT  SCHWEITZER 


Ml  I     <)     I       II      \      \     I  }J., 


The  LESTER  Piano  /$  the  Official  Piano  of  The  Philadelphia  Orcheitra 


the  LESTER  Concert  Grand  Piano 


The  Philadelphia  Orchestra  and  the  Lester  Piano  are  two 
famous  names  that  mean  perfection  to  music  lovers  everywhere. 

The  Lester  Grand  Piano  is  a  masterpiece  of  musical  excellence 
characterized  by  magnificent  tone,  sensitive  touch  and  enduring 
performance.  Permanency  of  the  glorious  tone  is  assured  by  the 
Tone  Stabilator ...  an  exclusive  Lester  feature. 

Mode  by  the  same  family  since  1888  .  .  .  each  instrument  is 
built  with  painstaking  care  of  the  finest  materials.  Each  one 
is  a  lifetime  investment  that  will  pay  lasting  dividends  in  enter- 
tainment and  inspiration. 

There  is  a  Lester  Grand  Piano  for  every  home  and  professional 
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\ 


86 


ladif:s'     home  journal 


May,  1953 


"JV^SMn  Thrives  On 
Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap 

because  if^  such  wholesome  skin-care  f" 


Read  How  This  Glamorous  Young  TV  Actress  Was 
Helped  By  Candy  Jones,  Famous  Beauty  Director. 

"I  always  was  interested  in  acting  on  television",  says  Miss  Stewart,  "but  I 
was  afraid  of  close-ups.  I  enrolled  at  the  Conover  School  where  Candy 
Jones  helped  me.  The  most  important  lesson  she  taught 
me  was  proper  skin-care!  'Use  Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap 
every  day',  she  said,  'it  leaves  a  look  of  fresh,  radiant,  r  ''^ 

natural  beauty — such  as  no  amount  of  make-up  can!'  'Jr 
Today  I  attribute  my  clear-skinned  'television-look'  to 
this  wonderful,  wholesome  care!" 

Why  not  do  as  Miss  Jones  advises?  Use  gentle,  mild 
Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap  every  day! 


Here  Are  Candy  Jones* 
Personal  Beauty  Tips  For  You ! 

I  Bed-time  beauty  care  for  elbows,  knees 
and  heels.  Saturate  cotton  pads  with 
Cashmere  Bouquet  Hand  Lotion.  Attach  with 
tape  and  leave  on  overnight! 

Never  apply  or  remove  make-up  without  first 
thoroughly  washing  your  hands  with  delicate, 
mild  Cashmere  Bouquet  Soap. 

More  later,  CHo^of^ 


Candy  Jones 

(Mrj.  Harry  ConoverJ 


I  turned  to  look  at  her,  for  I  did  not  believe 
that  ever  again  would  I  hear  so  callous  a 
remark.  I  thought  to  see  upon  her  face  an 
expression  of  coldness,  of  wanton  cruelly, 
and  I  was  amazed  to  find  nothing  there  but  a 
childish  interest  in  the  scenery. 

"Oh,  it's  sure  good  to  be  out  again,"  she 
said.  "But  it's  real  cold  and  mean."  And 
she  moved  closer  to  my  brother. 

I  thought  that  there  were  two  things  I 
knew  now  about  Brandy.  She  was  without 
fear  and  that  no  doubt  was  admirable  though 
in  some  circles  even  this  could  be  debated. 
And  she  was  without  pity. 

All  through  the  evening  I  was  troubled  by 
the  memory  of  the  boy  who  had  lain  under 
the  windy  sky  on  the  Spurney  farmland.  Was 
he  alone  in  the  world?  It  was  possible  that  he 
was  homeless  and  hungry  and  I  knew  that  if 
this  was  the  case  Powell  would  not  even  no- 
tice that  the  lad  had  been  a  rebel  soldier.  I 
should  have  made  certain  that  he  was  not  in 
need. 

I  could  barely  wait  for  morning  to  come 
and  after  a  hurried  breakfast  I  set  out  alone. 

I  passed  the  Coberley  house  and  turned  in 
at  the  old  Spurney  road.  There  had  been  a 
gate  there  once  but  it  no  longer  swung  upon 
its  hinges  but  lay  rotting  away  on  a  bed  of 
weeds.  My  horse,  I  thought,  harbored  a  dis- 
like of  the  whole  project,  for  he  looked  about 
him  with  what  seemed  like  a  curious  aware- 
ness of  the  desolation. 

"  It's  all  right  now.  Fellow,"  I  said  to  him. 
"It's  all  right."  But  I  was  not  certain,  for 
here  on  Spurney  land  nothing  had  prospered. 
And  I  said  to  my  horse. 
"Now  you  say  something 
to  comfort  me." 

1  would  have  been 
amazed  had  he  complied, 
but  perhaps  only  a  shade 
less  than  I  became  in  the 
next  moment,  for  I  heard 
music.  Music  here  on  the 
deserted  Spurney  farm- 
land. 

There  was  a  meager  girl  sitting  upon  a  log 
at  the  side  of  the  road.  She  was  playing  upon 
a  banjo  and  until  that  moment  I  did  not 
know  that  a  banjo  was  capable  of  expressing 
itself  in  soft,  low  chords  that  spoke  of  grief 
and  troubled  dreams.  She  did  not  pause  at 
sight  of  me,  but  bent  her  concentration  upon 
her  music  and  her  song.  She  was  the  palest 
girl  I  had  ever  seen,  for  her  hair  and  brows 
and  lashes  were  almost  white,  her  eyes  a 
faded  blue  and  she  was  dressed  in  a  colorless 
cotton  with  a  tattered,  grayish  shawl  about 
her  shoulders. 

"Good  morning,"  I  said. 

Her  glance  was  a  rebuke.  It  told  me  to  be 
quiet.  And  the  banjo  sounded  a  chord  and 
her  song  rose  on  the  morning  air: 

"The  moon  is  pure  silver 
The  sun  is  pure  gold 
The  flowers  are  jewels,  all  dew-pearled 
And  I  know  a  woman 
Who  doesn'l  deserve 
To  live  in  this  beautiful  world." 

I  waited  politely,  for  perhaps  she  was  not 
finished  and  in  truth  she  was  not.  Though 
what  came  next  was  very  brief: 

"Heart  of  stone.  Heart  of  stone 
I'm  watching  you 
Heart  of  stone." 

She  did  not  lay  aside  the  banjo,  but  the 
music  ceased.  She  raised  her  head.  "Well? 
Got  something  you  want  to  say?" 

Of  course  I  was  not  surprised  to  find  that 
she  was  a  Southerner.  "You  sang  a  very 
pretty  song,"  I  said. 

She  squinted  her  pale  eyes  at  me.  "You 
think  that  was  pretty,  do  you?" 

"Very.  Play  it  again." 

She  looked  at  the  banjo  as  one  might  gaze 
at  an  understanding  friend  when  a  particu- 
larly stupid  remark  has  been  made  by  an 
outsider. 

"I  only  sing  a  song  once  and  then  only 
'cause  the  situation  calls  for  it.  Like  if  all  of 
a  sudden  a  goose  flew  by  or  something." 


There  is  nothing  final  about 
a  mistake,  except  its  being 
taken  as  final. 


PHYLLIS  BOTTOME 


I  remembered  Brandy  recalling  how  the 
people  "down  home"  made  up  songs  and 
sang  them  without  even  thinking  twice. 

"I  imagine  you  know,"  I  said,  "about  a 
young  man  I  saw  yesterday.  Perhaps  he  is 
your  brother.  He  " 

"I  ain't  got  no  kin,"  she  said. 

"Well,  in  any  case,  you  probably  know 
him.  He  had  lost  an  arm  and  a  leg  in  the 
war  and  he  was  lying  over  there  close  to  the 
other  property  line." 

She  nodded.  "  I  know.  What  you  want  with 
him?  " 

"Well,  I  assure  you  that  I  don't  want  to 
hurt  him." 

She  smiled.  It  was  a  cold  smile  and  in  its 
coldness  was  a  guaranty  that  I  need  not 
worry  about  the  boy.  She  sat  gazing  ruefully 
down  at  her  fingers. 

"What's  the  matter?"  I  asked. 

"Fingers  chilled,"  she  said.  "Mighty 
mean  weather  you  Yankees  got." 

"Are  you  planning  on  staying  all  winter?" 
I  asked. 

She  shrugged.  "As  soon  as  I  get  a  song 
about  it  I'll  know,"  she  said  cryptically. 
"But  my  fingers  hurt  from  the  cold." 

"That's  a  shame,"  I  said. 

"Yeh,  sure  is."  She  sat  upon  the  log  then 
in  silence  for  a  moment.  I  watched  her  won- 
dering what  was  coming  next,  but  I  was  not 
prepared  for  the  smile  she  flashed  at  me.  It 
was  friendly  now,  warm  and  rather  sweet 
"His  name  is  Tippy,"  she  said. 

"Whose  name?" 

"The  boy  you  were  asking  about." 

This  was  all  very  puz- 
zling and  I  decided  to  be 
puzzling  too.  "I'm  not  in- 
terested in  him.  I  don't 
care  what  his  name  is." 

"Well,  you  asked  about 
him,  didn't  you?" 

"I  don't  remember,"  I 
said. 

She  glared  at  me  and 
jumped  to  her  feet.  "Hon- 
est," she  said.  "I've  tried  everything  with 
you.  I've  tried  being  like  I  didn't  care  and 
I  tried  being  nice  but  you're  just  so  plain  old 

stuck  up  that  there's  no  " 

"That  will  do,"  I  said,  hoping  that  my 
tone  had  the  coolness  and  authority  of  Aunt 
Laurel's.  "Now  just  what  is  it  you  want?" 

"Your  gloves,"  she  said  in  a  small,  whee- 
dling voice.  "  Honest,  my  fingers  is  freezing." 

I  stripped  off  the  gloves  and  gave  them  to 
her.  They  had  been  made  to  order  for  me 
and  I  knew  they  would  not  fit  her.  I  watched 
her  as  she  tried  to  work  them  down  over  her 
large,  bony  hands. 

After  a  moment  she  stopped  trying  and  re- 
turned the  gloves.  "They  come  in  sizes,  don't 
they?"  she  asked  wonderingly.  "Just  like 
shoes.  I  didn't  know." 

I  nodded.  "Yes,  they  come  in  sizes.  Now 
tell  me  something.  Where  do  you  and  Tippy 
live?" 

She  gestured  toward  the  old  farmhouse. 
"  In  there." 

Could  people  actually  live  within  that 
frail  shell?  How  it  had  survived  the  north- 
easter was  a  mystery  to  me. 

"Do  you  live  there  alone?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Are  you  hungry?" 

"Course  I'm  not  hungry.  Do  you  think 
I'm  a  beggar  just  because  I  asked  for  your 
dirty  old  beautiful  gloves?" 

This  was  a  strange  child,  I  thought.  A  gen- 
uine curio  of  Nature.  "How  old  are  you?"  I 
asked. 

"Fifteen.  How  old  are  you?" 
"Eighteen." 

"Were  you  always  like  that  or  did  you  have 
an  accident?" 

"I  was  always  like  this." 

"A  real  shame,  I  say.  A  real  shame." 

"Well,  we  won't  talk  about  it." 

"Shucks,  no.  I  should  say  not.  Ain't  worth 
even  thinkin'  about  when  a  girl's  got  a  sweet 
little  face  like  you  got  and  all  that  nice  brown 
hair." 

I  felt  suddenly  dizzy  and  I  clung  to  the 
reins  for  I  had  never  before  heard  a  compli- 
ment that  had  not  come  pityingly  from  a 
member  of  my  own  family.  I  felt  tears  on  my 


B7 


I'hceks.  The  uirl  s;iui  nolliiiiK  and  simply 
picked  ui)  licr  banjo  and  liiiKi  rcd  I  lie  strin^;s. 
ilcr  eyes  and  her  lii()iit.'.lits  seemed  far  away. 

And  after  a  time  I  said  to  her,  "I  supjKJse 
you  know  Brandon  from  down  home." 

She  would  not  brin^;  her  eyes  and  her 
thouuhls  hack  to  me.  "IJrandon?" 

"Yon  must  know  her." 

She  shrunued.  "  I  must  know  a  lot  of 
p<()l)le.  Feel  I  ought  to  tell  you  something. 
It  Konna  rain.  Best  you  K'el  Koin^  " 

"But  do  you  know  Brandon?  Brandy,  I 
suppose  you  call  her.  Do  you  know  lici  ?" 

"  It  'II  just  come  teeminn  flown." 

"All  right,"  I  said.  I  signaled  to  the  horse 
and  wc  went  our  way  leaving  the  girl  behind. 

When  I  reached  home  that  day  no  one 
asked  where  I  had  been.  Powell  and  Brett 
were  in  the  morning  room  before  a  brigiit  (ire 
and  Powell  was  trying  to  teach  Brett  to  i)lay 
checkers,  a  game  that  Brett  had  once  known 
well.  Aunt  Laurel  was  busy  with  the  maids, 
so  I  went  to  her  room  and  examined  the  con- 
tents of  her  glove  1:k)x.  iMirtunately  Annt 
Laurel  had  nice  large  hands  and  a  very  poor 
count  on  her  personal  possessions.  I  finally 
settled  u|)on  a  pair  of  lleece-lined  gauntlets 
and  look  them  to  my  room. 

It  seemed  probable  that  after  luncli, 
weather  permitting,  I  would  drive  out  with 
Brett,  but  I  was  determined  that  we  would 
not  call  on  Brandy.  I  was  left  with  a  rather 
f{K)lisli  feeling  when  Brett  retired  to  his  rcx)m 
after  luncheon  and  went  to  sieej). 

"This  is  new,"  I  remarked  to  Powell. 

He  nodded.  "I'm  afraid  I  tired  him,  but  he 
was  beginning  to  remember.  Perhaps  I 
should  not  have  pushed  him."  Powell  shook 
his  head  in  weary  discouragement.  "Arc  you 
going  out,  Liz?" 

"Not  if  you  need  me." 

"I  always  need  you  but  I  shall  Ix;  busy  all 
day  and  I  just  wondered  if  you  would  be 
lonely." 

"No,  I  shan't  be  lonely." 

That  afternoon  when  I  drove  out  to  deliver 
the  gloves  it  had  been  my  intention  to  by- 
pass Brandy  again.  I  was  not  successful,  for 
she  was  walking  on  the  road  and  she  waved 
to  me.  I  stopped  and  she  came  toward  me  so 
swiftly  that  her  hair  blew  in  the  wind  and  her 
L-loak  billowed  out  behind  her  and  she  looked 
so  wild  and  magnificent  that  I  was  moved, 
despite  myself,  by  her  beauty. 

"Just  taking  a  ride,  honey?" 

"No,  I  am  on  an  errand." 

She  was  downcast  by  my  words.  "  I  thought 
maybe  you'd  take  me  out  a  bit.  Seems  like 
I'll  die  being  alone." 

I  could  have  pointed  out  that  both  the 
house  and  the  baby  had  need  of  the  time 
that  lay  so  heavily  upon  her,  but  I  restrained 
myself. 

"You  don't  have  to  be  alone,"  I  said.  "The 
clever  little  girl  from  your  place  who  makes 
up  songs  is  here,  isn't  she?" 

Brandy  laughed.  "I  declare,  honey,  you 
just  know  everything,  don't  you?  Yes,  she's 
here." 

"Well,  she'll  entertain  you." 

"Entertain  me?  That  dirty  little  draggle- 
tail?  I  wouldn't  let  her  in  the  house." 

"What  is  she  doing  here.  Brandy?" 

Brandy's  eyes  opened  wide  at  my  question. 
"Why,  I  don't  know,  honey,"  she  said.  "She 
got  a  right  to  come  here  if  she  wants  to,  I 
reckon,  only  I  don't  have  to  be  friends  with 
her,  do  I?" 

"Where  does  she  come  from,  Brandy? 
Where  do  you  come  from?" 

"North  Carolina." 

"What's  it  like  in  North  Carolina?" 

Brandy  shook  her  head.  "  I  wouldn't  know 
how  to  tell  you.  It's  a  ordinary  place.  Houses, 
people,  animals,  smoke." 

"Smoke?"  It  was  a  curious  thing  for  her 
to  have  said.  Houses,  people,  animals,  yes. 
But  smoke? 

"I  always  think  of  the  smoke.  It  has  a 
friendly  look.  People  cooking  supper.  You 
look  out  across  a  valley  and  you  see  smoke 
and  you  know  that  people  over  there  are 
cooking  supper  and  you  know  that  nothing's 
wrong.  When  something's  wrong  you  don't 
see  the  smoke,  'cause  when  something's 
wrong  people  ain't  cooking  supper." 


And  I  sat  in  my  carriage  (m  the  bay  shore 
in  New  .lerscy  aiifl  I  l(K)ked  at  North  Caro- 
lina aiifl  I  saw  tlie  blue  smoke  rising  from  the 
cabins  and  I  saw  the  great,  white  face  of  the 
Southern  moon.  And  the  cabins  were  nnigli- 
hewii  inside  and  out  but  I  saw  In-ds  covered 
in  bright  patchwork  (|uilling  ,ind  heard  the 
singing  and  smelled  the  hot.  wild  odor  that 
rose  from  the  swinging  jxiis  alx»ve  the  (ire. 

"Oh,  yes,  smoke,"  I  siiid. 

She  was  kfoking  out  across  the  bay  and  her 
eyes  were  (illed  with  remembering. 

"Homesick?"  I  asked. 

"Homesick?  Me?"  She  threw  b;ick  hn 
head  and  howled  with  laughter.  "For  what 
I"or  working  like  a  nigger  and  for  wearing  a 
stringy  cotton  dress  and  going  to  befl  with  a 
man  who  smells  of  h;ird  work  and  sweat? 
Not  me,  honey.  Not  me." 

Her  laughter  was  very  loud  and  it  grated 
U|xm  me  and  I  turned  from  her  and  saw 
coming  toward  us  an  aging  man  with  a  shot- 
gun on  his  shoulder.  As  he  came  close  to  us  he 
spoke. 

"How  are  you.  Brandy?"  he  said. 

I  ler  laugliler  never  ceased  nor  did  she  even 
cast  a  glance  at  the  old  man.  He  kept  walkinr 
and  paid  us  no  further  attention. 

"A  former  admirer?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  honey,  c|uit  bothering  your  head 
about  them  iieople.  They're  nobodies." 

"  It  seems  you  could  answer  when  they 
speak  to  you." 

"Why  should  I?  They  ain't  no  friends  of 
mine.  They're  trash,  I  tell  you.  My  folks  were 
high-toned  people.  Real  ladies  and  gentlemen 
just  like  your  folks." 

"That's  obvious,"  I  said.  "Well,  I  must 
go." 

Brandy  shrugged.  "AH  right.  If  you  can't 
take  me  for  a  ride,  then  go  ahead.  "She  waited 
looking  hopefully  up  at  me.  Then,  "Where's 
your  brother?" 

"Home." 

"Oh.  Tell  him  I  miss  him." 
"Very  well,  I  will." 

"Tell  him  I  miss  him  something  awful." 

I  nodded  shortly  and  she  began  to  laugh 
and  1  suspected  that  there  was  something 
genuinely  amusing  here  that  I  had  not  the 
wit  to  see  nor  the  courage  to  ciuestion. 

I  DO  not  believe  that  I  would  ever  have  ap- 
proached the  sagging  old  farmhouse  without 
an  excuse.  The  invaders  had  taken  over  the 
Spurney  land  and  though  it  was  my  guess 
that  they  had  no  legal  right  to  tenancy,  I  was 
not  prepared  to  argue  the  matter.  This  was  a 
strange  family,  if  family  it  was. 

Nothing  stirred  as  I  left  the  carriage  and 
walked  toward  the  splintered  door.  I  was 
conscious  as  I  walked  that  I  was  being 
watched  and  I  took  Aunt  Laurel's  .gloves 
from  my  pocket  and  made  elaborate  show  of 
them. 

The  door  swung  open  leaving  in  mid-air 
my  hand  that  had  been  poised  for  knocking. 
Within,  the  room  was  dim.  The  blaze  on  the 
hearth  furnished  all  the  illumination  there 
was. 

"Come  in,"  a  voice  said.  And  I  was  in  with 
the  door  closed  behind  me.  For  a  moment  I 
stood  almost  without  vision  and  then  I  be- 
gan to  see.  Stretched  out  before  the  (ire  lay 
the  boy,  Tippy.  The  banjo  sounded  and  I 
raised  my  eyes  to  see  the  girl  perched  atop 
the  ladder  that  reached  toward  the  sleeping 
quarters  above. 

"There  you  are,"  I  said  and  the  banjo 
spoke  again  in  answer. 

My  eyes  became  aware  of  the  broken 
floor  boards  and  the  dangerous  decay  of  the 
walls.  There  was  nothing  here  in  the  room 
that  could  be  correctly  classed  as  furniture. 
Blankets  and  barrels  seemed  to  take  the 
place  of  couches,  tables  and  chairs. 

"I  brought  the  gloves,"  I  said. 

"That  was  extremely  thoughtful  of  you." 
It  was  the  voice  that  had  bade  me  enter.  I 
turned  and  saw  a  woman  of  middle  age,  tall 
and  slender  with  stony  gray  eyes.  Her  hair 
was  also  gray  and  she  was  dressed  in  black. 
She  eyed  me  unsmilingly.  "May  we  know 
who  you  are?" 

"Elizabeth  Carpenter,"  I  said  and  waited, 
but  there  was  only  silence. 

I  looked  up  at  the  girl  in  some  annoyance. 
"Shall  I  throw  them  to  you?"  I  asked. 


To  learn  "the  truth"  about  your  pals  — 

;  1  Lei  Ihem  tell  il  with  costumes 

j_]  Study  palmistry 

Who'll  guess  that  timid  Theresa  secretly 
longs  to  be  a  Mata  Hari?  That  playboy  Ted 
dreams  of  piloting  diesels?  Ami  Hill  (The 
Shoulders)  hankers  to  whip  up  the  world's 
best  souffle?  Give  a  "secret  ambition" 
party!  You'll  get  a  line  on  your  gang— what 
with  their  logs  representing  the  life  they'd 
really  like!  .As  for  you,  you're  safe  from  re- 
vealing lines  (that  certain  kind)  — with 
Kotex.  Just  trust  those  special,  flat  pressed 
ends.  No  one  can  guess  your  secret! 


Should  a  girl  make  an  apology — 

I  I  Never    Q  Brief    Q  A  /a  broken  record 

Oops!  Now  he  knows  (sob)  which  side  his 
suit's  peanut-buttered  on.  Tell  him  you're 
sorry,  sincerely,  briefly.  Why  grovel  in 
apologies  the  evening  long?  After  all  — 
sometimes  "accidents  will  happen"!  But 
prohlem-day  accidents  needn't,  ever;  not 
when  you"ve  chosen  Kotex.  You  get  the 
double  protection  of  (1)  —extra  absorbenry, 
(2)  —  that  safety  center! 


Can  you  offset  bowieggcd  gams  with  — 

1  I  Grace  [I]  Exercise  lJ  B'ue  jeans 
If  Nature  threw  a  curve  when  she  built  dem 
bones,  exercise  won't  straighten  'em.  To  off- 
set that  bowed  look,  aiupiire  graceful  pos- 
ture; avoid  shorts,  snug-fitting  jeans.  Wear 
skirls  with  a  graceful  flare  — at  the  right 
length  for  jo«.  For  every  a^l  (come  calendar 
days)  there's  a  "just  right"  absorbency  of 
Kotex.  Try  all  3:  Regular,  Junior,  Super. 
W  hichever  you  choose,  you're  comfortable 
—  for  Kotex  holds  its  shape!  • 


More  women  choose  KOTEX' 
tban  all  other  sanitar)  napkins 


T.  U.  REG.  U.  S.  PAT.  OFP. 


Know  someone  who  needs  to  know? 

Remember  how  puzzled  you  were  when  "that"  day  arrived  for 
the  first  time?  Maybe  you  know  some  youngster  notv  who's  in 
the  same  boat.  Help  her  out!  Send  today  for  the  new  free  booklet 
"You're  A  Young  Lady  Now."  Written  especially  for  girls  aged 
9  to  12,  it  tells  her  all  she  needs  to  know,  beforehand.  Button- 
bright!  Free!  To  get  your  copy.  Write  Dept.  653,  919 
North  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago  11,  Illinois. 


88 


LADIES'  no 


ME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


-keeps  baby  skin 
softer,  smoother! 


-gives  baby  wonderful  new 
protection  against  rashes! 


-checks  diaper  odor,  keeps 
baby  fresh  and  sweet! 


Smooth  baby's  body  all  over  with  soothing, 
snow-white  Johnson's  Baby  Lotion  after 
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Give  your  baby  this  wonderful  skin  care! 


^  New  plastic  bottle 


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JOHNSON'S  BABY  LOTION 


The  woman  with  the  stony  gray  eyes  said, 
"A  proper  question  indeed.  Cannot  you 
bother  to  descend  when  a  lady  has  brought 
you  a  present?" 

The  girl  scrambled  down  from  her  perch, 
grabbed  the  gloves  and  flew  back  again  to  the 
top  of  the  ladder. 

"And  have  you  no  word  of  thanks?"  the 
quiet  voice  demanded.  The  banjo  announced 
that  a  proper  acceptance 
was  on  its  way. 


"Thank  you,  oh,  thank 
you  for  your  kind- 
ness to  me 
If  you're  ever  a-freezing 
I  hope  you'll  feel 
free 

To  sit  by  my  fire  or  bor- 
row my  shawl 

If  you're  ever  in  trouble  you  know  wlw  to 
caV  " 

"No,  I  don't  know  who  to  call,"  I  said. 
"I  haven't  an  idea  what  your  name  is." 
"Mockingbird,"  she  said. 
"Mockingbird  I " 

"Sure.  What's  the  matter?  Sound  funny 
to  you?" 

"Of  course  it  does,"  the  older  woman  said. 
"It  would  sound  funny  to  anyone,  so  do  not 
make  yourself  absurd  by  acting  as  though 
your  name  was  an  ordinary  one." 


A  married  woman's  as  old 
OS  her  husband  makes  her 
feel. 

—ARTHUR  WING  PINERO 


The  girl  did  not  reply.  She  was  occupied 
with  the  business  of  working  her  hands  intoi 
Aunt  Laurel's  gloves.  We  watched  her  as  she 
frowned  and  struggled  and  finally  with  pride 
mastered  the  situation. 

I  had  no  excuse  to  linger  now.  I  was  about 
to  take  my  departure  when  the  old  man  with 
the  shotgun  pushed  open  the  door.  He 
had  killed  a  rabbit.  I  smiled  at  the  old  man 
and  said,  "We  almost  met 
a  little  while  ago  when  I 
was  talking  to  Brandy  and 
you  passed  by." 

It  was  an  opportunity  to 
mention  Brandy's  name, 
to  watch,  I  hoped,  a  reac- 
tion. But  there  was  no  re- 
action at  all  and  the  old 
man  did  not  even  bother  to 
reply. 

"You  must  know  Brandy,"  I  said  to  the 
stony-eyed  woman. 

She  said,  "We  all  know  her,  my  dear,  and 
you  know  full  well  that  we  do.  And  when 
you  speak  to  me  pray  remember  that  I  am 
not  simple-minded.  If  you  have  a  sensible 
question  that  would  not  be  an  impertinence, 
put  it  to  me.  But  do  not  believe  that  I  will  be 
fooled  by  an  oblique  attack." 

I  turned  crimson.  "I  do  apologize." 

She  nodded  graciously.  "You  were  kind  to 
bring  Mockingbird  the  gloves." 

(Continued  on  Page  90) 


Other  Views,  Sizes  and  Prie<>.s  of  Vogue  Patterns 
on  Pages  58  and  50 


Vogue  Design  No.  7427. 

Vogue  Design  No.  7187. 

Vogue  Design  No.  8007. 

Vogue  Design  No.  798.3. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7994. 
Vogue  Design  No.  769."$. 
Vogue  Design  No.  71.'>.5. 

Vogue  Design  No.  7982. 
Vogue  Design  No.  7877. 

Vogue  Design  No.  7674. 

Vogue  Design  No.  78:J8. 


"Easy-to-Make"  jacket  or  smock.  Small  (28-30), 
Medium  (32-34),  Large  (36-38).  40c. 

Maternity  skirt  (instep  length  or  shorter);  35  to  43 
hip  measure.  50c. 

"Easy-to-Make"  maternity  dress,  robe  or  unlined 
coat;  10  to  20,  28  to  38.  60c. 

Maternity  jacket-blouse;  12  to  20,  30  to  40.  50c. 

Dickeys  or  fill-ins;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  50c. 

Maternity  jacket-blouse;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  50c. 

"Easy-to-Make"  coolie  coat.  Small  (30-32),  Medium 
(34-36).  50c. 

Maternity  blouse;  12  to  20,  30  to  38.  50c. 

"Easy-to-Make"  smock.  Small  (28-30),  Medium 
(32-34),  Large  (36-38).  50c. 

"Easy-to-Make"  maternity  slacks;  33  to  43  hip  meas- 
ure. 50c. 

Maternity  pajamas;  10  to  20,  28  to  38.  60c. 


7187  7187 


7H38 


I    \  I)  I   i;  >  '     II   ()   \i   I,      I   I)  i>   i(   N  A  I, 


89 


New  ScotTissue 
is  kinder  than 
ever  to  baby's 
tender  skin 


The  New  ScotTissue  is  so  much  softer -yet  it  is  cleanly  absorbent, 
witli  strength  to  resist  shredding 


Your  favorite  bathroom  tissue 
is  now  even  softer  . . .  whiter, 
with  greater  body  .  . , 
at  no  increase  in  price! 

A  revolutionary  new  process  "water  weaves" 
ScotTissue  to  even  gentler  softness,  brings  you 
a  softer  ScotTissue  than  ever  before.  Only 
Scott  makes  a  tissue  this  way. 

The  New  ScotTissue  is  whiter  too!  Nothing 
but  pure  "white"  pulp  is  used  in  each  generous 
1,000-sheet  roll. 

More  and  more  women  are  learning  about 
this  new  improved  tissue,  and  are  buying  it 
for  their  families.  Be  sure  you  get  a  supply 
from  your  grocer  today.  Another  great  Scott 
paper  value. 

1000  sheets— OverVi  more  than  the  650 
sheets  you  get  from  most  other  brands 

"ScotTissue,"  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


absorbent -^1^  / 

!.000  5H^5^^ 


Get  the  world's  largest  selling  bathroom  tissue 


2  ROLLS  OF  SCOTTISSUE  GIVE  YOU  MORE  SHEETS  THAN  3  ROLLS  OF  MOST  OTHER  BRANDS 


90 


L   A    D    I    E    S  '       HO    M    F,       .1    O    V    K    \    \  I, 


l^lay,  IPS- 


NetfTimeni  Bring 


And  Colgate's  has  proved  conclusively  that  brush- 
i  ing  teeth  right  after  eating  stops  tooth  decay 
best!  I  n  fact ,  the  Colgate  way  stopped  more  decay 
for  more  people  than  ever  before  reported  in 
all  dentifrice  history! 

LATBR— Thanks  to  Colgate  Denfal  Cream 


;  VE  BEEN  HAVING  QUITE  A  WHIRL 
SINCE  I  BECAME  A  COLGATE  6IRl! 


Brushing  Teeth  Right  After  Eating  with 

COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

STOPS 
BAD  BREATH 

STOPS  DECAY! 

Colgate's  instantly  stops  bad  breath  in  7  out  of  10 
cases  that  originate  in  the  mouth !  And  the  Colgate 
way  of  brushing  teeth  right  after  eating  is  the 
best  home  method  known  to  help  stop  tooth  decay ! 


IT  CLEANS  YOUR  BREATH  WHILE  IT 
CLEANS  YOUR  TEETH  I 


(Continued  from  Page  88} 
I  looked  at  the  others,  but  to  bid  them  good 
day  would  have  been  slightly  foolish.  One 
could  feel  a  curious  withdrawal  in  them  all  as 
though  they  had  learned  to  compensate  for 
the  proximity  in  which  they  lived  by  build- 
ing imaginary  chambers  of  privacy  into 
which  they  retreated. 

It  will  not  be  hard  for  you  to  believe  that 
I  thought  of  these  strange  people  all  that 
evening.  As  I  sat  by  the  cheerful  lamp  I  lis- 
tened to  the  wind  howling  and  I  felt  that  I 
must  assist  them  somehow. 

It  seemed  sensible  first  to  offer  a  roast  or  a 
pudding  or  something  and  then  if  that  was 
accepted  it  would  indicate  that  I  had  not 
pride  or  stubbornness  to  fight  against.  In 
that  case  I  would  then  take  the  matter  to 
Powell.  Why  couldn't  Mrs.  Conrad  Coberley 
share  with  her  fellow  Carolinians?  Why  in- 
deed? What  was  between  her  and  those  who 
came  from  "down  home"? 

I  would  say  that  it  was  a  little  after  ten 
when  we  retired  that  night.  I  would  say 
so  because  at  the  siiore  that  was  our  usual 
bedtime.  I  am  more  certain  of  the  fact  that 
at  midnight  I  was  still  awake.  My  mind  was 
running  on  at  a  great  rate  and  giving  me  no 
chance  to  relax  and  find  peaceful  sleep. 

The  wind  howled  and  a  shutter  slapped 
dismally  somewhere  in  the  back  of  our  house. 
I  hoped  it  would  not  awaken  Brett.  I  lay 
there  thinking  of  many  things.  I  thought  of 
Brandy,  for  sooner  or  later  my  mind  always 
turned  to  her.  I  thought  of  how  she  laughed 
when  we  had  parted  that  morning.  I  tried  to 
remember  just  what  particular  thing  had 
given  the  excuse  for  laughter.  And  after  a 
while  I  remembered. 

I  did  not  rise  immediately.  I  would  not 
have  you  think  that  one  rushes  into  such  a 
matter.  One  does  not.  For  there  is  always  the 
possibility  that  one  would  be  better  for  not 
knowing. 

But  in  time  I  lit  my  candle  and  ventured 
out  into  the  corridor  and  now  that  my  mind 
was  made  up  I  did  not  hesitate  at  Brett's 
door.  I  walked  directly  into  his  room  and 
I  stood  beside  his  empty  bed.  I  knew  where 
my  brother  was.  I  knew  where  he  was  tonight 
and  I  knew  where  he  had  been  the  night 
before. 

For  several  days  I  did  not  drive  out  to  the 
bay.  Brett  made  no  request  to  drive  that 
way  and  I  wondered  at  his  artlessness.  Was  it 
a  symptom  of  his  mental  illness  or  had  he  al- 
ways been  a  poor  dissembler?  I,  in  his  posi- 
tion, would  have  made  a  great  point  of  re- 
marking on  how  long  it  had  been  since  a 
visit  to  Brandon.  But  my  brother  did  not 
mention  her  or  the  Coberley  house. 

It  was  a  Sunday  morning  upon  which  we 
had  our  first  fine  day.  It  was  cold  but  clear 
and  the  ocean  glittered  like  carved  ice  in  sil- 
very sunlight.  I  rose  early  and  went  down  to 
the  kitchen.  There  I  found  a  ham  and  a  rice 
pudding.  Carefully  I  took  them  out  to  the 
carriage  and  drove  with  them  to  the  Spumey 
farmhouse. 

This  time  I  did  not  even  make  the  effort 
t(/  knock  upon  the  door.  I  simply  waited 
and  the  door  opened.  The  stony-eyed  woman 
looked  dowTi  upon  me  from  her  great 
height. 

"This  is  an  interruption,"  she  said.  "We 
are  at  prayer." 

There  was  no  invitation  to  enter  and  I  felt 
extremely  awkward.  I  rallied  and  spoke  di- 
rectly into  those  hard  eyes.  "  I  regret,  madam, 
that  I  have  chosen  an  inopportune  moment 
to  call,  but  you  may  be  interested  in  accept- 
ing a  small  gift  which  I  have  brought  you." 

"A  gift?"  Her  tone  did  not  suggest  a 
quickening  interest  but  only  a  shocked  dis- 
belief as  though  my  presumption  was  thor- 
oughly incredible. 

I  decided  that  I  had  better  dispense  with 
the  wordy  effusions  reserved  for  drawing 
rooms.  "I  have  brought  a  ham  and  a  pud- 
ding," I  said  bluntly.  "  Do  you  want  them?" 

She  stared  down  at  me  for  a  long  mo- 
ment. Then  she  said,  "No,"  and  closed  the 
dcor. 

I  had  blundered  badly.  It  would  have  been 
wiser  to  have  negotiated  with  Mockingbird. 


There  had  been  no  quarrel  about  the  gloves. 
But  perhaps  the  gloves  were  different.  To  ac- 
cept a  gift  of  food  is  always  considered  de- 
grading to  the  foolishly  proud  and  it  had 
long  been  my  observation  that  the  more 
badly  needed  the  food  is,  the  more  fiercely  it 
is  rejected. 

I  drove  away  considering  the  situation. 
Deep  in  thought  as  I  was  I  still  did  not  miss 
the  sight  of  Brandy  on  the  bay  road.  I  could 
see  her  in  the  distance  and  while  I  was  still 
beyond  the  sound  of  her  shout  I  made  a  de- 
cision to  circle  the  Coberley  house  from  the 
rear  and  thus  avoid  her. 

So  I  turned  right  instead  of  left.  It  was  a 
quiet  world  through  which  my  horse  and  I 
moved.  A  silent,  Sunday  world.  There  was 
no  sight  of  the  bay  now,  no  sound  of  the 
ocean.  This  was  the  country  that  never  saw 
summer  people  but  instead  sent  to  them  its 
eggs  and  butter  and  luscious  blueberries  and 
other  products. 

So  I  went  on  till  I  was  stopped.  Stopped  by 
a  voice  from  the  roadside. 

"Little  girl !  Hey,  little  girl." 


AAAAAAAAAAAAA 


LOVE  YOUR  NEIGHBORS 

We  cannot  too  often  tell  ourselves 
that  our  essential  business  is  to  learn 
to  love  our  neighbors.  Meeting  our 
neighbors  moy  bring  annoyance  and 
even  pain  at  first.  Many  of  them  are 
queer,  and  have  rough  exteriors, 
and  even  grave  faults.  At  first  we 
may  come  bacit  from  such  contacts 
irritated  and  upset.  And  then  seclu- 
sion begins  to  look  rather  attractive. 
But  as  we  go  on  meeting  our  neigh- 
bors, we  make  wonderful  discover- 
ies. When  they  have  got  over  their 
first  instinctive  dislike  of  us,  they  be- 
gin to  show  us  other  aspects  of  them- 
selves. Their  views  may  be  to  our 
minds  outrageous,  but  their  hearts 
are  generally  warm.  Their  morals 
may  be  imperfect,  like  ours,  but  they 
remain  people  of  worth,  and  often 
have  interesting  powers  and  gifts. 
Good  fellows!  Fine  women!  And  when 
we  have  made  these  discoveries, 
contact  with  our  neighbors  is  seen  to 
be  the  privilege  and  the  joy  which  it 
really  is. 

A.  HERBERT  GRAY,  D.  D. 

The  Secret  of  Inward  Peace 
(Macmillan,  1948) 


He  was  a  man  I  had  never  seen  before  and 
he  was  sitting  on  a  tree  stump.  He  was  a 
young  man— twenty-eight,  I  guessed — and 
he  was  slim  in  that  certain  way  that  never 
suggests  feebleness  but  instead  a  terrible, 
muscular  strength.  His  face  was  ruggedly 
handsome,  his  eyes  keen  and  sharp.  The 
clothes  he  wore  were  threadbare  and  in 
need  of  cleaning  and  they  were  of  military 
origin. 

"What  place  is  this  here  place  I'm  in,  lit- 
tle girl?" 

I  told  him  and  his  face  lighted  with  satis- 
faction. 

"You  can  go  along  now,"  he  said  amiably. 
"I  just  wanted  to  make  right  sure  this  was 
the  place." 

I  returned  his  smile  but  held  my  horse 
motionless  in  the  road.  If  this  continued,  I 
thought,  our  ocean  town  would  have  more 
secessionists  in  residence  than  Yankees.  Who 
was  he?  What  connection  did  he  have  with 
the  odd  ones  already  nesting  on  the  Spurney 
farmland? 

"You  come  a  long  way?"  I  asked  him. 

"A  long  way  ?  "  He  shook  his  head  wearily. 
"You've  got  no  idea  how  far  I've  walked. 
Maybe  ten  thousand,  maybe  twelve  thou- 
sand miles." 

I  studied  his  expression  and  saw  that  this 
was  not  a  casual  exaggeration.  He  believed  it 
himself. 


"  Where  did  you  come  from,  mister?  " 

"Oh,  lots  of  places.  Just  now  from  North 
Carolina."  He  laced  his  shoe  and  looked  pen  l 
sive.  "But  I  had  another  long  walk  first,  l; 
walked  all  the  way  to  North  Carolina  from 
Illinois." 

"Your  home  in  Illinois,  mister?"  What  a 
question !  ■ 

It  brought  forth  the  bitter  grin  I  had  ex- 
pected. "Not  by  a  damn  sight  it  ain't,"  he 
told  me.  "I  was  in  a  stinking,  filthy  Yankee 
prison  out  there." 

"Prison?  What  did  you  do  bad?" 

"Bad?  I  didn't  do  nothing  bad.  I  was  a 
soldier  in  the  best  army  this  world  ever  seen, 
I  was  a  prisoner  of  war,  that's  all." 

"Oh,  did  they  treat  you  nice?" 

He  gritted  his  teeth  and  his  jaw  whitened, 
"Little  girl,  you  go  home  and  tell  your  father 
that  I  wouldn't  treat  a  snake  that  bit  my  mai 

like  them  "  He  broke  off.  "It  was  surei 

uncomfortable,"  he  finished.  ' 

"And  then  you  had  to  walk  all  the  way  to! 
North  Carolina." 

He  nodded.  "And  when  I  get  there  what 
happens?  I  have  to  light  out  for  this  Lord- 
forgotten  place."  1 . 

"Why?"  Ill 

He  shrugged  and  looked  puzzled.  "Ain't' " 
sure  yet  myself.  People  wouldn't  answer  no 
questions.  They  just  told  me  to  come  here." 

"That  sounds  exciting." 

"Oh,  sure.  Nice  pleasant  walk.  Especially' 
when  a  man's  hungry." 

"Are  you  hungry?" 

"Sure  am.  Nothing  much  left  to  eat  any^; 
where  down  home  and  you  don't  get  nothing  i 
to  amount  to  nothing  along  the  road  and  be- 
fore that  I  want  to  tell  you  that  we  didn't;) 
get  fed  proper  in  prison." 

"You  didn't?" 

"Sure  not.  You  don't  expect  no  Yankee  to 
feed  us,  do  you?" 

"It  could  happen,"  I  said.  "Come  here." 

He  came  at  once  and  I  pointed  to  the 
towel-wrapped  articles  beside  me. 

"There's  a  ham  and  a  rice  pudding,"  I 
said.  "Don't  say  that  no  Yankee  ever  fed 
you." 

"Well,  God  love  you,  miss."  He  wasted  no 
time  in  taking  what  the  woman  had  refusedJ 
His  knife  flashed  in  the  pale  sunlight  and  h^ 
was  at  work  on  the  ham. 

I  waited  in  silence  for  several  minutes,  t 
waited  till  he  looked  up  at  me  from  his  perch 
on  the  stump.  I 

"Maybe  you  could  help  me,  miss."  Ha 
smiled  and  added,  "Not  that  you  ain't  al- 
ready, but  I  mean  this  way,  for  instance—; 
you  know  a  lot  of  people  around  here?  " 

"Quite  a  few." 

"Know  any  new  people  who  might  hav«^ 
just  come  lately?" 

I  considered  the  matter  with  a  suggestion 
of  doubt  in  my  expression.  One  could  always 
change  a  no  to  a  yes.  The  reverse  was  more 
difficult. 

"I'm  looking  for  a  girl.  A  mighty  pretty 
girl.  Hair  black  as  night  and  funny  eyes.  I 
don't  mean  they're  funny  but  they  have  a 
different  kind  of  color." 

"Brown?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  no,  miss.  They're  real  purple  kind  of 
color.  You  know  anyone  like  that?  " 

I  continued  considering  the  matter. 

"I  sure  would  like  to  find  her.  They  tell 
me  she's  here." 

"Who  tells  you?" 

"People  down  home,"  he  said.  "I  gotta 
find  her." 

"You  sound  as  though  you're  in  love  with 
her." 

He  grinned.  "I  sure  am,  miss.  Got  every] 
right  to  be  too.  She's  my  wife." 

I  did  not  answer.  I  sat  numb  and  silent  in  I 
my  carriage  looking  at  the  wiry,  steel-spring] 
build  of  the  man  from  North  Carolina. 

"Just  gotta  find  that  gal,"  he  said.  "I  love] 
her  to  pieces  and  I  can't  stand  much  more  of  | 
this  yearning  for  her." 

"How  long  since  you  have  seen  her?"  I 
asked. 

He  shook  his  head  sorrowfully.  "Three 
years.  Three  terrible,  lonesome  years  but  I'll  [ 
find  her,"  he  said.  "  I'll  find  her." 

(To  be  Continued) 


I      \    l»     I     I         •        II     ()     \l     I  I     II     I      H     \     \  I 


R 


a  II  { 1 1 u  I 

E 


a  I  r 


c 


K 


THERE  ARE  THREE  BRECK  SHAMPOOS 
FOR     THREE     DIFFERENT     HAIR  CONDITIONS 

You  will  enjo>'  using  a  Breck  Shampoo  because  it  is  mild  and  gentle  in  action,  leaving  your 
hair  thoroughly  clean  and  naturally  beautiful.  There  are  three  Breck  Shampoos.  One  Breck 
Shampoo  is  for  dry  hair.  Another  Breck  Shampoo  is  for  oily  hair.  A  third  Breck  Shampoo  is 
for  normal  hair.  The  next  time  you  buy  a  shampoo,  ask  for  the  Breck  Shampoo  for  your  hair 
condition.  A  Breck  Shampoo  will  leave  your  hair  soft,  fragrant  and  lustrous.  A  Breck  Shampoo 
will  help  bring  out  the  natural  beauty  of  your  hair.    Con\enient  8  ounce  bottle  -  -  -  $1.00. 

The  Three  Breck  Shampoos  are  available  at  Beauty  Shops,  Drug  Stores,  Department  Stores  and  whereier  cosmetics  are  sold. 


MANUFACTURING  CHEMISTS 
C     A     G     O  SAN  F     R     A     N     C  I 


S  P  R  I  N  G  F 

C  O 


ELD 
O  T 


i 

T  A 


MASSACHUSETTS 
W     A  CANADA 


92 


LADIES 


O    M  K 


JOUR    N    A  L 


Nylon  sheer  embroidery  edges 
a  shadow-panel  slip  at 
bodice  and  hem.  In  black, 

pink  or  white.  $6.95  J 


Munsingwear  shadow-panel/^^^ps  are  fashioned 


with  a  front  panel  from  //  K^op  to  hem  to  line 


your  summer  sheers.  Shadow-panel  slips  of  nylon 
tricot  make  a  perfect  Mother's  Day  gift.  She'll 
love  them^^^^^for  their  practical  qualities, 


their 


J  sparkling  details  and  design. 


Nylon  net  smocking 
accents  a 
shadow-panel  slip 
in  black,  blue,  navy, 
pink,  white  or  yellow 
rose.  $7.95 
Matching  half -slip 
$4.95 


Icy  nylon  lace  drifts 
over  bodice  and  hem. 
A  shadow-panel 

slip  in  black 
or  white.  $8.95 


^mm  luai 


CAN  THIXi  ^lARRIAGE  BE  SAVED? 

(Continued  from  Page  60) 


7  PRECISION-FIT  HO.SIERY  •  LINGERIE  •  FOUNDETTES 
Wrife  Munsingwear,  Inc.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  for  the  itorei  nearest  you. 


establishment  in  the  whole  community.  Our 
success  didn't  come  easy,  believe  me. 

"For  fifteen  years  Joe  and  I  have  worked 
from  eight  in  the  morning  until  ten  p.m.  We 
took  no  vacations  either!  Even  now  when 
we  have  six  employees  Joe  is  out  in  back  at  an 
ironing  board  with  the  men,  and  I'm  in  front 
at  the  cash  register.  For  a  while  at  first," 
the  wife  recalled,  "Joe  tried  to  keep  our 
books,  but  he  has  a  poor  head  for  figures,  and 
besides,  Joe  doesn't  meet  the  public  easily. 
So  I  look  after  the  customers  and  handle  our 
finances,  as  well  as  superintend  our  sewing 
girls.  It  was  my  idea."  she  said,  "to  combine 
mending  and  alterations  with  the  cleaning, 
and  that  idea  has  certainly  paid  off.  The 
tailoring  end  of  our  business  amounts  to 
nearly  half  the  gross. 

"When  this  trouble  between  Joe  and  me 
happened,"  Amy  told  the  counselor,  "he 
and  I  had  just  begun  to  reap  the  benefits  of 
all  our  struggles  and  sacrifices.  We've  always 
had  to  help  both  our  families.  Until  a  year 
ago  Joe  and  I  lived  in  a  little  cramped  apart- 
ment with  whichever 
relatives  were  down  on 
their  luck.  Sometimes 
they  were  his,  some- 
times mine.  For  four- 
teen years  we  dreamed 
of  getting  out  of  that 
apartment  and  owning 
our  own  home. 

"Last  January  when 
we  had  the  shop  we 
wanted  and  it  was  in 
the  clear,"  she  said, 
"Joe  and  I  went  ahead 
and  bought  our  home. 
In  spite  of  helping  all 
our  relatives,  by  scrimp- 
ing on  everything  we 
needed  for  ourselves  I 
saw  that  Joe  and  I 
saved  a  little  every 
single  week  for  four- 
teen years.  Oh,  but  we 
were  proud  and  happy 
the  day  we  got  our 
deed.  At  present,"  Amy 
then  admitted,  "the 
house  is  kind  of  crowded. 
Joe's  sister  Irene  and 
her  children  are  still 
living  there  with  me, 
and  I  don't  know  how 
long  they  mean  to  stay. 
Otherwise  the  home  my 
husband  turned  his 
back  on  has  everything 
he  and  I  ever  dreamed 
of.  A  completely  mod- 
ern kitchen,  a  beautiful  big  livmg  room,  a 
lovely  patio.  Joe  was  intending  to  start  a 
garden  as  soon  as  he  had  the  chance.  He  got 
some  bulbs  last  spring,  but  we  were  too 
rushed  in  the  shop  for  him  to  set  them  out. 
Our  neighbors  on  the  left — we  haven't  met 
them  yet — have  an  awfully  pretty  garden. 
We've  owned  our  place  only  a  year,  and 
those  things  take  time.  Joe  and  I  hadn't 
even  got  around  to  picking  out  our  furniture. 

"Except  for  a  couple  of  cots  our  only  furni- 
ture in  the  house  now,"  Amy  said,  and  sud- 
denly her  tears  began  to  flow,  "is  a  fancy 
living-room  suite.  Last  June  Joe  went  and 
bought  that  suite  for  me  as  a  surprise.  It  was 
much  too  expensive.  But  he  insisted  I  de- 
served the  best,  and  I  was  pleased  and 
thrilled.  At  the  very  time  he  picked  out  my 
furniture,  he  was  carrying  on  with  that 
woman.  Do  you  wonder  I  can't  stand  my 
living-room  suite  or  my  husband  either?  I'll 
never  understand  Joe  again.  He's  become  a 
stranger  to  me. 

"Until  that  woman  came  along,"  she  said, 
"Joe  and  I  were  so  close  we  were  like  one 
person.  Oh,  we  had  our  differences  like  every- 
body else,  but  nothing  to  amount  to  any- 
thing. Joe  is  like  all  men  and  needed  to  be 
prodded  at  times,  but  I  never  minded  that 
or  complained  too  much.  We  were  getting 
somewhere.  Joe  and  I  shared  our  work  and 


our  joys  and  we  shared  our  sorrows  too.  W( 
have  no  children.  Both  of  us  hoped  for  chil 
dren  right  from  the  beginning,  but  it  seemi 
I  can't  carry  my  babies  to  full  term.  Joe  wa^ 
always  sweet  and  kind  about  our  disappoint-' 
ments,  but  he's  not  a  talker.  Do  you  suppose 
he  secretly  blames  me  for  being  childless? 
Could  that  be  why  he  took  up  with  that 
woman?  Could  he  be  so  unfair? 


Together 

When  my  young  love  was  younger 
still, 

Time  was  a  rose-embowered  hill 
Or  the  glass  mountain  heroes  climb 
On  the  interstices  of  rhyme. 
He  grew  up  lonely,  hung  with 
hopes, 

And  garlanded  with  dreams  like 
ropes. 


I  grew  and  missed  him  farther 
south, 

Leaning  my  softened,  young-girl 
mouth 

Into  the  kiss  of  poems  and 
flowers 

And  every  day  was  long  with  hours. 
Time  ran  downhill  the  day  I  found 
him; 

Now  all  my  poems  are  arms  around 
him. 


Sometimes,"  she  then  informed  the 
counselor,  "I  have  thought  our  having  m 
children  was  as  much  Joe's  fault  as  mine.  I've 
never  mentioned  it  to  anybody,  but  I  blame 
our  last  loss  on  Joe's  sisters.  Two  years  ago 
when  I  was  seven  weeks  pregnant  both  Irene 
and  Sara — they  have  five  youngsters  be- 
tween them — moved  in  with  us.  Joe's  sisters 
are  nearly  as  spinele&>  and  selfish  as  my 
brothers.  Irene  and  Sara  lay  around  all  day 
in  their  kimonos  while  Joe  and  I  worked  in 
the  shop.  Then  in  the  evenings  when  we  got 
home  dead  beat  we  had  to  clean  and  cook 
for  them  and  their  young  ones.  It  made  Joe 
furious,  but  what  could 
we  do?  They  were  his 
sisters.  Anyway,  in  the 
fourth  month  I  mis- 
carried again.  I  haven't 
been  pregnant  since. 
Maybe  if  things  had 

been   different   " 

Amy  said,  abruptly 
broke  off,  and  resumed : 
"But  that's  in  the  past. 
I  guess  it's  a  blessing 
Joe  and  I  have  no  chil- 
dren to  consider.  Di- 
vorces and  children 
don't  mix. 

"Joe  has  begged  and 
begged  me  to  take  him 
back,"  Amy  said  in 
conclusion,  "but  I  sim- 
ply can't.  That  woman 
will  always  stand  be- 
tween us." 


le  y 

n  I 


Joe  tells  his  side: 


"All  I  want  is  my 
wife  back,"  Joe  said  to 
the  marriage  counselor. 
A  tall  gaunt  man, 
shockingly  pale  and 
thin,  he  was  almost  in- 
coherent with  grieL 
"The  doctor  says  I'll 
have  a  breakdown  if  I 
don't  get  rest,"  he 
eventually  went  on, 
"but  the  only  place  I 
can  see  Amy  is  in  the  shop.  Rest  won't  help 
me.  I  can't  sleep,  anyway,  or  eat  either.  I've 
lost  thirty  pounds  in  the  past  five  months. 
What  I  need  to  get  well  is  for  Amy  to  forgive 
me  and  to  understand  something  I  don't  un- 
derstand myself. 

"That  woman,"  Joe  said,  "means  nothing 
to  me  and  she  never  did.  She's  a  no-account 
whose  flattery  and  lies  led  me  from  my  mar- 
riage vows  and  overturned  my  conscience. 
Except  right  at  first  when  she  was  telling 
me  what  a  big  shot  I  was,  and  saying  people 
didn't  appreciate  me,  and  asking  why  I  didn't 
assert  myself  more  in  my  own  shop,  I  didn't 
even  enjoy  her  company.  I  hate  her  now. 
Why,  she  isn't  worth  one  of  Amy's  smiles  or 
even  one  of  Amy's  frowns. 

"This  may  sound  crazy,"  said  the  tor- 
mented husband,  "but  I'm  so  lost  and  lone- 
some and  ridden  by  my  own  guilt  that  night 
after  night  I  lay  abed  wishing  I  could  see 
Amy  scowl  again  because  of  something  I'd 
done  wrong.  I  used  to  hate  my  wife's  scowls; 
they  made  me  feel  so  small.  I'm  not  quick 
and  clever  like  Amy,  and  often  I  would  know 
how  dumb  she  thought  I  was.  Most  of  the 
time  Amy  tried  not  to  let  on,  but  I  could  tell. 

"My  wife  hasn't  got  a  tired  or  lazy  bone 
in  her  whole  body,"  he  said.  "Often  in  the 
shop  it  used  to  seem  I  would  get  tired  when 
Amy  was  just  getting  started.  I  don't  mind 
working  with  my  hands,  but  I  do  like  a 


I     \    II    I    K    s  ■      II  u 


M  I 


I     'I     I      II     \     V  I 


for  au  exciting  A^^^t/on  ! 

hiijoy  llirilliuii  so.i  spoil;? 

or  IiiMii  itms  loiiii)^iii^.  CoiilrasI 
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to  fit — Dr.  SchoU's  Shoes  will  give 
you  glorious  walking  ease — free  of 
painful  friction  and  pressure  points 
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Dr.  SchoU's  Shoes  are  made  in  all  sizes 
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cliaiiKf  of  J<)l)s.  IroniiiK  (.'.els  iiioiioloriouH. 
A  year  a^o  I  l)oll^!lll  a  Sftondliaiid  |x>wfr  hjiw 
to  make  a  ffntL  for  our  ><ar<l(  ii.  I've  had  llu- 
Imif  lo  list-  fiiy  saw  only  Iwicf. 

"What  allratttd  mi-  lo  Amy  in  Ihi-  (irsl 
platT,"  .|(K-  replied  in  answer  lo  a  (|iieslioii 
atHiul  the  eoiirl ship,  "was  her  energy.  I  inel 
Amy  al  a  heath  parly.  Slie  sv.'is  small  and 
prelly  antl  h.itl  so  miith  life  and  amhilion, 
'I'hen,  l(K>.  Amy  atlmired  me  in  Ihose  days, 
or  else  slie  said  she  ilid.  I  was  llie  younKCSt 
lK)y  irioiir  family  and  I  he  oi  hers  were  forever 
liami)lmn  on  my  ri^hls,  hiil  Amy  always 
slixxl  up  for  me.  When  my  oldest  brother 
would  laiiuh  alxiul  my  lK•ln^^  a  part-time 
l)resser,  Amy  would  look  him  in  the  eye  and 
icll  him  1  was  the  sm;irlesl  man  she'd  ever 
luel.  Siie  lold  me  tiie  same,  'i'hal  whole  sum- 
mer Amy  and  I  were  court  in^j,"  lie  saitl  wist- 
fully, "we  lay  aroiiiitl  on  the  heath  plaiinin^^ 
ahoul  Ihe  shop  I  would  own.  1  ihoui'hl  llicu 
it  would  he  my  shop. 

"I'our  or  five  years  aKo,"  said  .Joe,  the 
husband,  "I  be^an  Kettinn  resUess.  discon- 
Icnled  spells.  We  were  ckiin^;  well  financially 
and  I  (kni't  believe  Amy  noticed.  Hut  I  Ix-- 
Han  lo  wonder  whether  she  and  I  would  ever 
have  the  time  to  ^;o  to  the  beach  on  Satur- 
day afleriuxms  and  have  pleasure  like  other 
peoiile.  1  was  forly-onc  my  last  birthday, 
and  even  before  that  I  not  to  wtinderinK  to 
myself  what  we  were  working  for.  And  why 
we  worked  so  hard.  We  had  no  children  to 
leave  our  money  to.  And  we  weren't  Kointj  lo 
live  forever.  What's  the  use  of  a  beautiful 
home,"  he  inquired,  "unless  it's  furnisiied 
and  you  can  plant  a  garden  and  have  time 
lo  enjoy  it  ?  What's  the  Kood  of  money  unless 
you  Ktil  some  fun  frt)m  it?  Lots  of  times  I 
suggested  some  outing  lo  Amy,  and  even 
trips  out  of  town,  but  each  time  Amy  re- 
minded me  of  customers  we'd  promised 
special  jobs.  Or  else  some  of  her  relatives  or 
mine  needed  the  money  the  trip  would  cost. 

"Amy  has  been  wonderful  about  helping 
my  folks,"  Joe  said.  "I've  often  wished  my 
sisters  and  her  brothers  would  leave  us  be  in 
peace.  My  sister  Irene  and  her  kids  have  been 
hving  on  us  for  the  last  two  years,  and  I 
knt)w  Amy  works  herself  to  a  frazzle  on  their 
account.  But  Irene's  husband  is  in  Korea 
and  what  else  can  Irene  do?  Because  of  all 
our  relatives  piling  in  on  us  Amy  and  I  never 
had  much  chance  at  a  home  life.  In  our  fifteen 
years  of  marriage,"  he  said,  "when  Amy  and 
I  wanted  privacy  we  had  to  find  it  in  our 
shop.  Half  the  time  we  ate  our  meals  down- 
town at  the  diner,  because  we  haled  going 
home  to  face  somebody  else  and  their  trou- 
bles and  their  kids. 

KVhen  my  wife  and  I  first  got  married," 
he  went  on,  "I  imagined  our  life  together 
would  be  different.  I  was  twenty-five  and 
Amy  just  nineteen,  and,  since  I  was  the 
man,  I  supposed  I  would  do  the  leading. 
Heck,  I  can't  even  keep  up  with  Amy — 
much  less  lead.  But  in  those  days  we  expected 
children  of  our  own,  and  I  guess  I  pictured 
Amy  at  home  looking  after  our  babies.  Well, 
we  had  no  luck  in  that  direction.  You  may 
think  me  wrong,"  he  then  said  to  the  coun- 
selor, "but  sometimes  I  have  blamed  our 
lack  on  Amy.  Once  when  she  was  pregnant 
I  up  and  told  her  if  she'd  take  a  vacation 
from  the  shop  and  stay  in  bed  awhile,  she 
might  carry  to  full  term.  But  she  was  terribly 
hurt  and  angry,  so  after  that  I  kept  my  un- 
wanted opinion  to  myself.  There's  no  use 
asking  my  wife  to  change  her  nature. 

"The  shop  is  Amy's  main  concern  in  life," 
Joe  said,  and  for  the  first  time  there  was 
bitterness  in  his  voice.  "She  puts  the  shop 
ahead  of  me,  I  know.  She  always  has.  Ac- 
tually it's  lier  business,  not  mine.  She  takes 
all  the  responsibility,  makes  all  the  decisions. 
Half  the  customers  don't  know  I'm  one  of 
the  proprietors,  and  the  other  half  haven't 
even  met  me.  I  started  out  sitting  at  a  desk 
up  in  front,  but  that  lasted  only  a  few 
months.  Now  I'm  out  in  back  at  an  ironing 
board.  Each  year  of  our  marriage,"  he  said, 
"as  the  shop  grew  I  got  smaller  and  smaller 
jobs  and  was  pushed  farther  and  farther 
back.  I  guess  Amy  didn't  know  it,  but  finally 
I  got  to  feeling  I  might  be  pushed  right 
through  the  back  door  of  the  shop. 

(Continued  on  Page  V5) 


it'*  the  color 

it's  the  fragrance 
it's  the  fashion 


PARIS  •   LONDON  •  NEW  YORK 


Red  Lilac  — bright,  right-for-spring  fashion  color  in  creamy  Sta-Put  Lipstick  100 
Red  Lilac    new,  true-to-lilac  fragrance  in  the  new  Cream  Sachet  Perfume  1*5 
Red  Lilac  -  Bouquet  and  Bath  Powder,  set  2'° 

Other  Red  Lilac  hagrance  Hems  horn  85^  to  4  00  prices  p/us  (ox 
By  (he  creators  of  /fyjff.(/ .  .the  v/or/d  s  mos(  beloved  perlume.  •Trademark 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


Exciting  mow   things   a  ro   happening  in 


o„P„^YLON 


NEW 


FOR  THE  SHEEREST  STOCKINGS 
IN  THE  WORLD 


They're  all  glamour  ...  so  filmy,  so  fragile,  like  no  other  stockings 
you've  ever  worn.  The  new,  unbelievably  fine  Du  Pont  nylon  yarn  makes 
them  the  sheerest  stockings  you  can  buy.  You'll  treasure  them  for  those 
special  occasions  when  beauty  is  all  that  matters.  12  denier  replaces 
no  other  weight  in  your  stocking  wardrobe.  It  supplements 
the  other  weights  you  already  wear. 

This  new  nylon  yarn  is  just  one  example  of  the 
exciting  new  things  that  are  happening 
in  Du  Pont  nylon.  When  you  shop,  look 
for  nylon  . . .  for  modern-living  beauty. 


«te.  U.S.MT.Off 


BETTER  THINGS  FOR  BETTER  LIVING 

.  .  .  THROUGH  CHEMISTRY 


nZ>  c-j      F=>  c=>  r-»  -I- 


I.  \  I)  I  (•;  s  •     II  (t 


\i  I      I  <t  I    II   \  \  I 


(Ct'iiliinifJ  fraiii  l'ii):>  '>  <j 
"I  was  Icclirik'  lliat  way."  joo  rciallcd, 
I  he  (lay  I  met  llial  woman.  Amy  and  I  had 
,1  ililTcicncT  lliat  mornmK-  Our  flclivcry  tniy 
was  sick  and  I  couldn't  sec  it  was  my  place 
111  drive  liie  truck  until  lie  k<)I  wi'll.  I  wanted 
( I  hire  somebody  elsiv  I5ul  Amy  insisted  and 
,11  1  went  ahead  and  did  the  deli vl■rln^;.  I  was 
leeiiiiK  sore  at  Amy  when  I  made  the  de- 
livery to  that  woman.  StandiiiK  in  her  door- 
way, she  Kot  talking  to  me,  coiiMratuiated 
me  on  tiie  (lualily  of  our  cleaning  work  and 
askef!  me  in  for  a  cujiof  lea.  Well,  I  was  I  ired 
and  I  went  in  her  ai)arlment  and  drank  t he- 
tea.  Then  she  started  lillmK  me  up  with 
her  flaltcry,  and  said  w  hat  a  shame  it  was  a 
shop  owner  should  he  driving;  a  truck.  I'll  ad- 
mil  it  sounded  k<><><I-  I  halfway  didn't  be- 
lieve her,  but  I  don't  den>'  I  went  back.  Nor 
do  I  deny  thai  one  thiii.i;  led  to  another. 

"Bui  that  woman  never  meant  a  tiling;  to 
me,"  Joe  cried  out.  "I'm  sure  Amy  knows 
I  hat  herself.  Please  persuade  Amy  lo  lake 
I  lie  back.  Tell  Amy  I  just  can't  K<-"t  alonn 
without  her  as  my 
wife.  Amy  may  not 
realize  it.  but  I  know 
she  needs  me  too." 


The  counselor 

says: 


ooooooooooooo 

COULD  YOU  SAY  IT  WITTIER? 
Edited  by  John  M.  Henry 


"Amy  and  Joe  did 
need  each  other," 
said  the  counselor  in 
discussing  the  case, 
"but  they  needed  a 
different  kind  of  mar- 
liase.  Amy,  in  partic- 
ular, needed  toacquire 
insi.uhl  into  her  own 
personality  in  order 
tiiat  she  could  change 
it  and  adopt  a  difler- 
ent  set  of  values.  Of 
course  she  herself  was 
largely  responsible  for 
Joe's  infidelity.  She 
practically  drove  her 
husband  to  find  in 
the  company  of  an- 
other woman  a  little 
of  the  praise  and 
credit  he  was  not  re- 
ceiving at  home.  Amy 
was  just  too  busy. 
The  'other  woman' 
in  this  situation,  as  in 
many  similar  trian- 
gles, was  merely  the 

symptom  of  an  already  ailing  and  sadly  un- 
dernourished marriage.  A  marriage  to  which 
energetic  Amy,  preoccupied  with  business 
concerns,  was  devoting  no  time  or  thought. 

"As  a  working  wife,  Amy  undertook  a 
difiticult  double  assignment  and  acquitted 
only  half  of  it.  The  husbands  of  working 
wives,  especially  if  the  couple  work  in  part- 
nership, must  feel  important  if  the  marriage 
is  to  be  successful.  Amy  thought  she  loved 
her  husband,  but  she  was  giving  him  less 
consideration  than  she  gave  their  customers. 
No  desire  or  wish  of  Joe's  was  allowed  to 
interfere  with  a  'rush  job'  requested  by  a 
customer.  She  had  twice  her  husband's 
stamina  and  she  pushed  them  both  almost 
beyond  the  limit  of  their  physical  endurance. 
Fourteen  hours  of  work  a  day  for  fifteen 
years  isn't  good  for  anybody. 

"To  Amy,  however,  the  effort  seemed 
worth  while.  She  had  the  satisfaction  of 
achievement.  Her  ego  was  fed  and  her  social 
demands,  which  were  small,  were  met  by 
daily  meetings  with  customers  in  the  front 
of  the  shop.  Stuck  out  back  at  an  ironing 
board,  Joe  had  nothing  but  hard,  dreary 
work.  His  money  bought  him  nothing  he 
wanted.  No  self-esteem,  no  leisure,  no  friends, 
no  time  to  build  a  garden  fence.  From  his 
point  of  view,  the  hard  work  didn't  even 
bring  him  the  admiration  of  his  wife. 

"This  couple  struggled  to  get  ahead  finan- 
cially much  longer  than  was  necessary.  They 
had  certain  family  obligations,  but  they  car- 
ried the  obligations  too  far  and  too  long 
There  was  no  real  reason  why  they  should 
have  permitted  their  relatives  to  pre-empt 


Praise  Is  that  by  which  someone  con- 
vinces you  of  something  about  your- 
self which  you  had  suspected  all  along. 

WARNER  LOVE 

in  the  Show  Window,  Syracuse,  New  York 


their  home  and  deprive  them  of  all  privacy. 
In  both  families,  as  consiillai ion  disclosod, 
It  hafl  become  a  habit  with  broihers  and 
sislers  lo  move  in  with  Amy  and  Joe  on  ihe 
sliKhlesl  i)relexl.  C'onse(|uenlly  Ihe  two  had 
no  home. 

"Joe  was  .111  .iMiKible  bul  noi  a  slroriK  man, 
who  had  grown  up  under  the  dommaiion  of 
brothers  and  sisters.  He  needed  ;i  home  and 
he  badly  needed  lo  be  built  up.  Far  from 
building  liini  up.  Amy  virlually  destroyerl 
his  sense  of  personal  worth.  He  fell  like  a 
nobody  who  didn'i  count.  'I  hen,  silently. 
Amy  and  Joe  began  to  bl.ime  each  oilier  for 
the  absence  of  cliildicii  At  this  low  |)oint 
in  their  married  hie,  the  'other  woman' 
stei)|)ed  in  lo  (ill  the  v;icuum. 

"Until  the  shock  of  Joel's  mlidelity."  said 
Ihe  counselor,  "Amy  had  never  once  e.\- 
amined  her  marriage  or  thought  in  concrete 
terms  alxnil  herself  aiul  Joe.  Fortunately, 
she  was  intelligent  and  generous  as  well  as 
aggressive  and  overamijit lous.  After  a  two- 
hour  review  of  their  lifieen  years  of  marriage. 
Amy  jierceived  and 
acknowledged  that 
she  was  the  one  who 
had  failed.  She  also 
acknowledged,  when 
she  thought  about  it, 
that  Joe's  love  and 
his  companionship 
meant  more  lo  her 
than  either  her  hurl 
pride  or  business  suc- 
cess. Actually  she 
had  missed  Joe  as 
much  as  he  had  missed 
her. 

"Amy  not  only  for- 
gave Joe,"  the  coun- 
selor said,  "she  de- 
cided to  become  a 
wife  instead  of  a  hu- 
man adding  machine. 
She  and  Joe  put  the 
past  behind  them. 
Then  they  worked  out 
an  entirely  new 
scheme  of  living. 
First,  they  tactfully 
asked  Joe's  sister  and 
her  youngsters  to  find 
other  lodgings.  To  the 
amazement  of  both 
Joe  and  Amy,  the 
sister  moved  gladly; 
she  hadn't  wanted 
to  hurt  their  feelings 
by  suggesting  the 
move  herself! 
"Next,  they  changed  the  shop  hours  from 
nine  until  six.  To  be  sure,  they  make  less 
money  but  they  buy  more  mutual  satisfac- 
tion. Joe  now  has  a  desk  in  the  front  of  the 
shop,  and  Amy  does  her  best  to  see  he  has  an 
opportunity  to  reach  independent  decisions 
without  advice  from  her. 

"Amy  goes  to  work  with  him  in  the  morn- 
ings and  they  come  home  together  for  a 
leisurely  lunch.  While  Amy  prepares  the 
meal,  Joe  waters  their  fenced-in  garden  of 
which  he  is  very  proud. 

"Amy  does  not  return  to  the  shop  in  the 
afternoon.  At  the  moment  she  is  channeling 
her  energies  into  making  draperies  and  slip 
covers.  She  has  much  more  pride  now  in  their 
beautiful  house,  for  she  is  furnishing  and 
transforming  it  into  a  home.  She  has  become 
acquainted  with  her  neighbors  and  has  joined 
several  clubs.  She  and  Joe  have  also  returned 
to  the  church  which  meant  something  to 
them  in  their  youth  and  means  even  more 
now. 

"As  yet  they  have  no  children,"  said  the 
counselor  in  conclusion.  "But  Amy  is  under 
the  care  of  a  physician  and  both  she  and 
Joe  assure  me  they  have  medical  reasons  to 
hope  for  a  family  soon.  Naturally,  Joe  is  now 
a  happy  man.  Amy,  too,  is  a  happy  woman. 
Not  very  long  ago,  she  told  me  she  has 
achieved  far  more  joy  by  working  at  being  a 
wife  than  she  ever  achieved  working  in  the 
shop!" 

Editors"  Nntp:  This  oaae  lii.'^Iory  was  compiled  and 
condensed  from  actual  records  liy 

DOROTHY  C.\MERON  DISNEY 


A  woman  who  is  smart  enough  to  ask 
o  man's  advice  seldom  is  dumb  enough 
to  take  it.  Raymond  duncan 

in  Ellaville,  Georgia,  Sun 

One  reason  we  don't  like  to  visit  with 
families  richer  than  ours  is  that  often 
they  can  afford  a  home  movie  camera 
and  have  taken  pictures  with  it. 

HOWARD  BRICKEY, 

Editor,  The  Powerlite,  Kansas  City,  Missouri 

"A  highbrow  is  a  person  who  can  use 
the  word  'whom'  in  conversation 
without  feeling  self-conscious." 

Bells,  Tennessee,  lecturer 

"Be  thrifty  when  you're  young  and 
when  you're  old  you'll  be  able  to  af- 
ford the  things  only  the  young  can 

enjoy."  At  Ogden,  Utah,  P.  T.  A.  meeting 

OOOOOOOOOOOOO 


AMAZING  "FACE  LIFT"  FOR  BEAUTY 


INVISIBLE  BEAUTY  STRAP 

gives  up-lift  to  your  spirit — you  look  years  younger 


□ The  newest  way  to  look  years 
\ounger  is  to  use  this  new 
amazing  "face  lift"  cosmetic 
under  make-up.  You  simply 
massage  it  onto  your  face.  You 
sec,  you  feel  the  instant  ac- 
tion. \  ou  have  an  up-lift  in  your  spirit  because 
you  look  younger,  more  beautiful.  People  %vill 
wonder  what  secret  you  have  found. 

Invisible  Beauty  Strap  does  wonderful 
things  for  your  face.  It  tends  to  brace  flabby 
skin,  wrinkles  seem  to  smooth  away.  Jawline 
puffiness,  mouth-to-nose  lines,  little  age  lines 
seem  to  disappear.  Tell-tale  signs  of  worry 
and  strain  also  vanish.  Your  face,  your  con- 
tour is  firmed,  tiglitened,  lifted  .  .  .  you  have 
the  thrilling  sensation  of  a  "face  lift"  which 
lasts  for  hours  and  hours. 

Invisible  Beauty  Strap.  .«!5.00* 
New  economy  double-size  S8.50* 


1 


L  I  FT — you  can  enjoy  the 
thrill  of  a  ''face  lift" 


FIRM-  your  contour  is 
firmed,  you  look  younger 


DEEP  DOWN  CLEANSING  LOTION 

New!  Quick  action  liquid  cream 
cleanser  . . .  cleans  deep  down  into 
pore  openings.  Leaves  no  after 
"greasy  feeling."  For  every  type 
skin,  even  sensitive.  §2.50* 


T  I  G  H  T  E  N — your  skin 
is  tightened,  more  beautiful 


FraisCES  Deivisey  preparations  are  sold  in  the  cosmetic  department  of  fine  stores. 

Or  write  FKAyCES  Df;.\  \£i ,  in  Philadelphia.  *plustM 


96  May,  1953 

GLORY  BOY 

(Continued  from  Page  47) 


He  glanced  toward  the  clubhouse.  He 
couldn't  distinguish  faces,  but  he  knew 
Ellen  was  somewhere  there.  Ellen  and 
Benny  Progg,  though  certainly  not  together. 
Benny  Progg  was  interested  only  in  cham- 
pions. New  champions,  because  the  only  way 
Benny  lured  the  customers  on  his  pro  tours 
each  year  was  with  new  men.  One  or  two  of  the 
big  old  names  to  fill  out,  but  the  new  national 
champion  if  he  could  be  induced  to  turn  pro. 

The  new  champion,  Dane  thought.  To- 
morrow that'll  be  me. 

He  swung  up  his  racket.  The  sound  of  bat 
on  ball  and  ball  against  turf  was  almost 
simultaneous.  Taylor's  return  was  weak. 
Dane  moved  in,  angled  the  ball  across  the 
net,  stood  there  as  Taylor  came  to  shake  his 
hand  and  the  umpire  droned  the  scores  of  the 
three  sets. 

Taylor  gasped,  "Too  good  for  me,  Dane." 

"Thanks,"  Dane  said. 

He  moved  to  the  side  lines  and  gathered 
his  bats,  throwing  his  blazer  about  his 
shoulders.  The  umpire  was  climbing  from 
his  stand.  Dane  didn't  thank  him.  He  moved 
toward  the  clubhouse,  aware  of  the  eyes 
upon  him.  Aware  that  they  were  saying, 
hopefully,  "Vargas  will  take  this  guy  to- 
morrow." 

Yoii  hope,  Dane  said  silently  and  lifted 
his  eyes  to  where  Ellen  MacAndrews  was 
standing. 

She  was  looking  down  at  him  and  Dane 
felt  again  that  sense  of  uncertainty  that  had 
plagued  him  ever  since  he  had  come  to  know 
her— and  to  love  her.  She 
was  his  girl,  and  yet  there 
was  always  something  of 
himself  that  he  held  back. 
He  couldn't  help  it.  That 
was  the  way  he  was — the 
way  he  would  be  until  they 
were  married  and  Ellen 
was  his.  Then  it  would  be 
different. 

He  looked  up  at  her, 
serious  as  ever,  and  Ellen's 
smile  was  faint.  She  wasn't  a  muscle 
moll.  Perhaps  that  was  why  she  had  never 
gone  very  far  in  the  ratings.  Touching  the 
first  ten,  but  never  going  high.  A  small  girl, 
slim  yet  rounded,  with  sun-gold  hair  like  a 
halo  about  her  head,  and  soft  violet  eyes.  A 
girl  the  galleries  always  flocked  to  watch,  be- 
cause she  was  so  pretty  and  because,  too,  she 
was  so  familiar.  Like  the  girl  who  lived  next 
door,  or  maybe  your  own  kid  sister  or  your 
daughter.  She  had  a  habit  of  biting  her  lip 
as  she  waited  for  service,  of  laughing  delight- 
edly at  a  good  shot,  of  saying,  "Oh,  Ellen," 
at  herself  when  she  fluffed,  that  brought 
chuckles  from  the  galleries.  ■ 

But  that  was  all  right  for  Ellen,  because 
she  wasn't  going  anywhere  in  the  game.  It 
didn't  mean  anything  to  her  beyond  the  fun 
of  it.  As  it  did  to  Dane. 

She  wore  a  suit  of  heather-colored  wool 
that  outlined  her  lovely  body.  There  was  an 
orchid  scarf  about  her  throat.  She  leaned  to 
hear  as  he  called  up  to  her. 

"Don't  wait,"  Dane  said.  "I'll  meet  you 
at  Kelly's.  I  want  to  see  "  He  gestured. 

Ellen  nodded.  Dane  went  on  into  the  club- 
house, not  looking  at  anyone,  not  stopping 
to  talk. 

There  were  a  few  of  the  regulars  and  the 
hangers-on  in  the  dressing  room.  Dane 
stripped  off  his  shorts  and  shirt,  unlaced  his 
spiked  shoes.  In  his  wool  socks  he  took  his 
towel  and  went  into  the  showers.  Young 
Taylor  was  just  coming  out,  toweling  his  red 
hair.  He  looked  at  Dane  and  shook  his  head, 
grinning,  but  there  was  a  hint  of  resentment 
in  his  blue  eyes.  Dane  threw  his  towel 
over  the  bar,  shucked  his  socks  and  stepped 
into  the  cubicle.  He  thought.  So  what?  and 
turned  on  the  water. 

He  was  dressing  when  he  saw  Benny  Progg 
come  in.  There  were  talk  and  laughter.  A 
sports  columnist  was  holding  forth  to  a  group 
of  five.  Dane  stood  up  to  tie  his  dark  blue 
tie.  In  the  mirror  he  could  see  that  Progg's 
eyes  were  on  him.  Dane  turned  down  his 


collar  and  picked  up  the  gray  tweed  jacket. 
He  closed  the  locker  door. 

The  columnist  called,  "Hey,  Torsen,  what 
about  Vargas  tomorrow?" 

Dane  didn't  answer.  He  held  up  his  hand, 
with  the  thumb  concealed  to  show  four 
fingers.  The  columnist  said  something  and 
the  others  laughed.  But  it  was  an  uneasy 
laugh. 

Benny  progg  moved  to  him.  Benny  had 
been  Davis  Cup  three  .times  and  National 
Singles  champ  twice.  Now  he  was  a  promoter. 
He  took  his  stable  of  pros  around  the  coun- 
try each  year.  New  York,  Los  Angeles,  Chi- 
cago, Dallas,  Miami,  St.  Pete.  North  and 
South,  East  and  West.  A  tennis  circus  with 
station  wagons  and  a  portable  canvas  court. 

He'd  been  dark-haired  like  Dane  once. 
Now  he  was  getting  bald.  He  had  keen  blue 
eyes  and  his  mouth  was  getting  lines  about 
it.  He  stood  before  Dane,  looking  up  at  him. 

"You  think  so?"  he  asked. 

"I  know  so,"  Dane  said  shortly.  "You 
know  so  too.  Vargas  is  my  meat." 

Benny  Progg  bit  at  a  finger.  "  I  wish  it  was 
the  other  way  around." 

"That  makes  me  very  unhappy,"  Dane 
said  tonelessly.  "  I'll  take  your  friend  in  four 
sets." 

Progg  said  with  a  hint  of  anger,  "You're 
too  smart,  Torsen.  It's  business  with  me. 
Big  business  too." 

"  I  like  the  sound  of  it,"  Dane  said  imper- 
turbably.  "You  want  to  talk  to  me?  I'm 
willing  to  listen." 

"I  don't  know,"  Progg 
said. 

Dane  shrugged.  "  To- 
morrow maybe.  After  I 
take  Vargas." 
"Maybe  not." 
Dane  nodded.  "See 
you,"  he  said  and  moved 
away. 

He  wasn't  worried  as 
he  sat  in  the  Long  Is- 
land train  that  sped  toward  Penn  Station. 
By  this  time  tomorrow  he'd  be  National 
Singles  Champion.  Progg  would  have  to  come 
to  him. 

And  he'll  pay,  Dane  told  the  rumbling, 
clicking  wheels.  He  needs  me  as  much  as  I  need 
the  moola  he'll  pay. 

Dane  didn't  go  to  his  hotel.  He  walked 
from  the  subway  station  to  Kelly's. 

It  was  in  a  block  where  there  were  a 
score  of  other  restaurants.  French,  Italian 
and  what  not.  You  went  down  three  steps 
and  into  a  foyer  and  then  there  was  the  little 
bar  and  beyond  it  the  big  room  with  the 
checked  tables  and  the  oldish  waiters.  A 
leisurely  place  where  the  food  was  good  and 
the  prices  right. 

Ellen  was  waiting,  sitting  at  a  table  for 
two  against  the  wall  halfway  down  the  room. 
She  looked  up  at  Dane,  her  violet  eyes 
shadowed,  and  Dane  felt  his  heart  turn  over. 

It  seemed  he  had  always  known  her.  He 
was  twenty-five  now  and  Ellen  was  twenty. 
He'd  first  run  into  her  at  a  state  tournament 
in  Florida.  She'd  been  going  to  college  there. 
Three  years  ago.  Dane  had  been  on  his  GI. 
He  was  Intercollegiate  Champion  and  Ellen 
had  been  flattered  when  he'd  asked  her  to 
pair  with  him  in  the  mixed  doubles. 

She'd  been  just  a  kid,  not  yet  eighteen, 
but  he'd  liked  her.  She  wasn't  like  the  other 
girls  he  ran  into.  The  town  girls  who  felt  your 
muscles  and  squealed,  or  the  tournament 
babes  to  whom  their  ranking  was  everything. 

Ellen  MacAndrew  was  different. 

He'd  taken  her  to  the  movies  twice  that 
state  tournament.  He  hadn't  seen  her  until 
the  next  year,  when  he  played  that  state 
again.  She'd  grown,  but  she  hadn't  changed. 
She  was  so  friendly  and  natural  that  Dane 
had  felt  himself  responding,  and  he  didn't  as 
a  rule.  He  kept  to  himself  because  he  was  a 
guy  with  a  purpose.  He  was  a  guy  who  knew 
all  about  himself  and  about  life. 

He  was  onto  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  game 
by  then.  He  was  ranked  fifth  nationally  and 
the  odd  hundreds  were  coming  in  nicely. 


OE1E1SC3E1QE1EIE3 

It  may  be  that  the  race  is 
not  always  to  the  swift,  nor 
the  battle  to  the  strong — 
but  that's  the  way  to  bet. 

—DAMON  RUNYON 


I.  \  I)  I  i: 


II   I)   M  i: 


Jul 


97 


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^J  1^  When  your  tired  eyes  ask 
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REG.  u.  S.  PATENT  OFFICE 


Tlicic  were-  lots  of  ways  to  ^fl  around  liic 
amateur  rule.  You  just  had  to  Ix-  smart,  and 
tlicri'  were  club  mfmfx.Ts  wiliinv'.  to  help  you 
l)c  smart  just  so  loii^;  as  you  crili-rcd  tlint 
(ouriiamfnts, 

Ilt  'd  known  that  I^ilt  n  liked  him.  'I'lml 
was  why  he'd  taken  her  up  to  the  ranch  near 
Kissimmee.  He'd  none  into  it  with  his  older 
brother,  bin,  solid  Sam,  and  Sain's  wifi-, 
Men.  Sam  and  Men  had  jhiI  every  cent  they 
had  into  the  thousand  acres  antl  the  few 
head  of  Hrahmans,  Dane  had  not  a  dl 
loan,  and  every  time  he  collecled  a  hundred 
he  sent  it  on.  Mecausi'  it  was  touch  and  no.  Il 
was  the  Torsens  anainst  the  world,  and  they 
couldn't  fail. 

Sam  and  Men  had  just  started  then,  Tiiey 
were  liun  and  black  from  the  sun  and  work. 
I)  ane's  heart  had  sunk  at  the  job  before 
them,  but  they'd  welcomed  him  and  Ivllcn 
She'd  pitched  in  and  hel|K-d,  for  there  was 
work  for  any  pair  of  hands.  Sam  iiad  said 
soberly.  "We'll  make  this  no.  A  couple  of 
years  of  hard  work  and  il  '11  benin  to  i)ay.  We 
just  have  to  hold  on  and  work  ;uid  maybe 
pray  a  bit." 

They  wt're  si  ill  workinn  and  pray  inn  and 
holdinn  on.  That  was  why  Dane  wanted  so 
badly  to  win  tomorrow,  A  year  with  I'ronn. 
and  Dane  could  noon  to  Kissimmee.  With 
I'^llen  if  she  would,  lie  wouldn't  Icl  himself 
think  how  it  would  be  if  she  weren't  part  of  il. 

II ic  sal  down  as  the  waiter  came  up  to 
them.  He  met  Ellen's  clear  violet  naze. 

"Just  a  salad,"  she  said  in  her  soft  voice, 
"I  — I'm  not  very  hunnry,  Dane." 

"  I  am,"  Dane  said. 

He  nave  his  order.  Clear  soup,  a  steak  and 
baked  potato,  nrcens.  Tea.  You  used  up  a 
lot  of  pounds  on  the  courts.  You  had  to 
replace  them,  but  carefully. 
'  Ellen  said,  "  I  had  a  letter  from  Men 
today." 

"  I  had  one  from  Sam." 

"Are  you  noing?  They  really  need  you 
there,  Dane." 

Dane  broke  a  bit  of  brown  bread,  but- 
tered it.  "They  need  money  more."  He 
turned  his  head  and  looked  at  her,  the 
creamy  skin  of  her  cheek,  the  nlinl  of  her 
hair. 

She  did  not  raise  her  eyes.  She  said.  "  Did 
you  see  Benny  Progg?" 

"  I  saw  him.  He  said,  'Maybe.'  Tomorrow 
this  time  he'll  be  begging  me.  He  doesn't 
like  my  guts,  but  that's  just  too  bad." 

"No,"  Ellen  said  and  Dane  started  on  the 
soup. 

He  said.  "What  did  you  mean,  'No'?" 

"It  isn't  Benny."  Ellen  said.  "It's  you. 
You  don't  like  him.  You— you  don'l  like 
anyone,  Dane." 

Dane  finished  his  soup.  He  said  gently, 
"You're  talking  like  a  kid,  Ellen." 

Her  eyes  met  his  then,  lustrous,  grave. 
"I'm  not  a  kid  any  longer.  I'm  grown  up. 
I  see  things.  Like  today." 

The  waiter  brought  Ellen's  salad  and 
Dane's  steak.  Dane  began  to  eat  hungrily. 
It  worried  him  that  Ellen  was  speaking  like 
this.  But  he  couldn't  help  it. 

Ellen  said,  toying  with  her  salad,  "You 
didn't  have  to  humiliate  Pete  Taylor  so.  You 
could  have  eased  up." 

Dane  ate  methodically,  scarcely  aware  of 
what  he  was  eating.  He  said  quietly,  "You 
don't  understand,  Ellen.  Tennis  is  just  fun 
for  you.  It  always  has  been.  For  me  it's  a 
way  to  an  end.  It's  the  thing  I  do  best.  And 
it's  no  different  from  any  other  form  of  com- 
petition. I'm  out  to  win.  It  isn't  that  I  don't 
like  Pete  —or  anyone  else.  I  don't  think  about 
him  or  about  the  wolves  in  the  gallery.  I  play 
to  win  because  the  world  has  no  use  for  a  loser!' 

"No."  Ellen  said  with  a  little  gasp,  and 
Dane  felt  anger  rise  in  him.  He  turned  to 
her,  his  gray  eyes  dark. 

"What  can  you  know?  You've  been  pro- 
tected all  your  life.  You've  never  had  to 
face  up  to  the  truth.  This  is  a  dog-eat-dog 
world.  Once  you  start  to  lose,  they  keep 
beating  you  down— the  way  they  did  my 
old  man." 

He  took  a  gulp  of  the  hot,  sugared  lea. 
"After  my  father  lost  his  store  and  mother 
died  we  were  never  more  than  a  meal 
{Continued  on  Page  99) 


Daniel  Green  make* 
slipper!  for  "him",  loo! 


Comfy  Slippers 


MADE  BY  MASTER  CRAFTSMEN  SINCE  1882 


LADIES 


HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  J!) 


^Jc>day5§>  loveliest 
figures  sliow 


EVERYWHERE  you  go,  you  see  walking 
testimonials  to  modern  woman's  good 
sense,  good  taste,  good  habits  of  living. 
Slimmer,  trimmer,  more  youthful-looking, 
more  admirable  in  every  way — thanks  to  her 
careful  diet,  to  modern,  lighter  meals,  less 
filling  foods  and  beverages. 

Insurance  tables  say  she'll  live  longer, 
too — and  so  will  her  countless  men-folk  who 
take  care  to  follow  her  wholesome  example. 

Today's  Pepsi-Cola  is  made  to  suit  this 
modern  trend.  For  Pepsi  has  steadily  kept  pace 
with  modern  ideas  of  diet.  Pepsi  is  light,  dry 
(not  too  sweet),  reduced  in  calories. 

You'll  find  Pepsi-Cola  in  the  familiar 
economy  size  that  serves  two  people  or  in 
the  smaller  single-drink  size. 

Have  a  Pepsi — the  light,  modern 
refreshment. 


Ik 


I       \     I  )      I      I  II      I  )      \l      I  I      I  I      I        II       N      \  I 


(('mil i mini  frnm  I'nuf  '>7) 
id.  I  was  Kcllin^  paiK-rs  wlicn  I  was  nine. 
I  a  job  Satiirclays  aiul  Suiulays  sliaKi^iiiK 
s  on  till'  i()iir(s  at  the  coimiry  tliil)." 
le  piislii'd  liis  plate  away,  Ins  inoulli 
XT,  aware  llial  IClleii  was  lookinn  at  liim. 
lace  still.  He  said,  "  That 's  how  1  not  iihd 
lis.  'I'hey  didn't  care  a  hit  ahoiu  me.  It 
liinny  to  iiave  an  eleven-year-old  kid 
iiid  who  eonld  heal  I  he  pants  oil  most  ol 
nrowniips.  They  used  to  Iranie  visitnin 
s  after  I  started  really  playing.  Tiiey'd 
Ihe  «iiy  into  a  het  thai  I  cniild  heat  him. 
I  1  would.  Some  (.'.us  Icn  ni  lilieen  years 
I  than  me.  They'd  slip  mi-  somethini; 
ui\  eiul,  most  times  more  than  my  old 
1  could  make  in  a  week." 
lie  looked  at  the  ice  cu  iiiu  i  lu'  w.nler  had 
I  before  him.  "1  was  ihii  leen  when  my 
icr  died.  1 1   was  Sam  who  madi-  me 
poll  at  school  until  I  went  into  the  .Army 
1  atti'r.  I  didn't  want  to.  but  Sam  said 
of  us  had  to  have  an  I'ducatioii.  Hut  it 
i  the  tennis  that  made  me  keep  on, 
ause  I  knew  I  could  make  more  money, 
UK  an  amateur,  than  1  could  in  a  job." 
le  shook  liis  head.  "No,  you  can't  undi'r- 
nd,  lillen.  Hut  that  is  how  it  is.  \'ou  find 
when  vou're  out  on  vour  own  in  Ihe 
dd." 

le  heard  Ellen's  sinhinn  breath,  lie  heard 
say  earnestly,  "Vou're  wront;,  Dane, 
onu." 

shook  his  head  a,t;ain.  "I'm  not.  Li't's 
ve  it,  Ellen." 

riie  ice  cream  was  .uettinK  soft,  but  lie  ate 
I'.'cause  his  biii  body  needed  it.  Beside  him 
en  said,  "I'm  .uoinu  home  the  day  after 
norrow,  Dane." 

Dane  did  not  answer.  lie  wanted  to  turn 
her.  To  lake  her  hand  and  lell  her  that 
loved  her  as  she  must  know  he  did.  To 
;  her  to  wait  for  him.  A  year  maybe.  Until 
'd  had  his  pro  round  and  could  honestly 
;  her  to  marry  him.  Hut  he  couldn't.  Not 
w.  Tomorrow  maybe.  .After  he'd  beaten 
r^as.  After  he'd  Rol  Benny  ProKK's  offer. 
Ellen  said,  "I'm  not  Kointj  back  tocolleije." 
"No  tournaments  either?" 
"No."  Her  pink  fingers  were  inlert wined, 
've  had  enough,  Dane.  I'm  grown  up  now. 
id  has  a  job  for  mc  in  his  office." 


The  waiter  brounhl  the  cluck.  Ivlleii 
ojMiied  her  baK.  Dane  said,  "No," 

"  I  want  to  pay  my  share,"  Klleii  saifl,  but 
Dane  leaned  ainI  closed  the  snap  of  the  ban. 

"  ^'ou  didn't  eat  anylhin«." 

Ill  put  the  bills  Willi  Ihe  check.  I'Miked  at 
IClk-n.  She  ros<'  and  tlie>'  went  out  mio  ihe 
sofi,  dusl-smellinn  iiinlil. 

Dane  said,  "I've  not  to  hit  (he  sack 
early,  'i'oniorrow  it  will  Ik-  different.  We'll 
celebrale," 

"I  can't,"  l%llen  said  and  Dam  looked 
down  at  her  in  the  lialf-linht. 

"Why?"  Her  hair  shiinmered.  Dane  lell 
an  icy  lillle  linKei  touch  his  hearl.  "  'I'ou  nol 
aiiolliiT  dale?" 

l'"oi  a  moment  she  hesitated,  then  she 
s:n  I  almost  maudibly,  "^'es." 

D.ine  tried  lo  keep  il  light.  "Someone  I 
know  ?  " 

"No,"  Elkii  said.  "I  don't  think  you 
know  hini." 

He  couldn't  help  it.  "Is    is  it  serious?" 

lit  r  head  lifted.  He  saw  the  shine  ol  her 
i  \'es.  1  ler  voice  was  clear.  "  Ves.  Il  is,  Dane." 

Dane's  throat  was  tight.  He  felt  a  great 
wi'ariness  descend  upon  him,  a  sort  of  re- 
sigiu'd  bitterness.  "O.K.,"  lie  said. 

.\  taxi  swerved  to  the  curb.  Ellen  got  in 
;iiul  Dane  gave  the  man  her  hotel  atldress 
and  closed  the  door.  He  lifted  his  hand, 
nol  speaking,  and  the  cab  moved  away. 

So  that  was  that.  Hes(iuared  his  shoulders 
as  he  walked  toward  his  liolel,  but  there  was 
Ihe  echo  of  sardonic  laughter  within  him.  He 
was  glad  he  hadn't  poured  out  his  heart  lo 
her  hadn't  asked  her.  .And  yet  llierc  was  an 
emptiness  all  through  him  thai  made  him 
clo.se  his  eyes. 

His  hotel  room  was  small  and  very  (|uiel. 
On  the  writing  desk  was  Sam's  letter.  Dane 
look  up  a  sheet  of  hotel  paper  and  began 
his  reply.  He  Iried  nol  to  ihink  ol  Ellen  as 
he  wrote,  but  the  sense  of  loss  was  slrong 
upon  him.  He  meanl  il  when  he  wrolc: 

I  wish  I  could  l)e  with  you  and  Meg,  Sam, 
l5Ut  I  can't.  I'm  going  to  take  Vargas  tomorrow 
and  then  I'll  sign  with  Benny  l^rogg.  We  need 
that  money  Ijocause  you  never  know  what  is 
going  to  happen.  Because  it  will  be  a  safeguard 
against  ever  having  to  take  a  licking  if  things 
go  wrong  and  they  move  in  on  us  to  kick  us  all 
the  way  down. 


'■Not  next  Satiirilay  nifslit.  Uarohl.  H  /ly  not  sitve  every  rent  yoii  roii 
for  the  iiexl  six  months  or  so,  and  then  lie  ran  have  a  real  litne."" 


The  |M-ii  moved  on,  but  Dane  muh  thinking 
ol  Ellen  He  got  up  lie  lliotiglil.  I'm  lirrd 
I'll  liNi\li  II  litimnnnv,  ajiri  tl'\  all  \fllUii. 
lie  lelt  Ihe  letter  oil  the  disk  and  •ilarlcd  to 
iindresH. 

The  sun  wan  bright,  the  gallerieti  color- 
fully lilli-d  when  Dane  came  out  to  the 
center  lourt  with  I'edro  Vargan  the  next  day 
IVdro  barely  came  to  Dane's  shoulder.  A 
swarthy  little  man  with  a  Hashing  grin  and 
colorful  antics.  They  stood  at  the  net  while 
the  cameramen  stoo|Krl  and  cnjuched.  tak- 
ing pictures.  Dane  could  see  the  press  lx)X, 
the  television cameraM, sec  the  raflioman's  li|)s 
moving  Ixfore  his  mike.  The  (lags  stirred  in 
the  soli  air  and  Dane's  eyes  involuntarily 
sought  for  Ellen. 

He  moved  impatiently  from  the  net  and 
the  cameramen  made  way  for  him.  He  did 
not  answer  when  they  called  lo  him.  A  small 
l)oy  ran  up  with  an  album  to  autograph. 
Dane  shook  his  head.  "After,"  he  said. 

He  (licked  a  ball  across  the  net  at 
Vargas.  They  began  to  rally  as  the  umpire 
climlx-d  onto  his  high  seat  and  the  linesmen 
began  to  set  their  chairs  exactly. 

The  sound  of  the  l)al  on  ball  was  crisp  and 
twarigy  V  argas  leaned  into  his  famous  Iwo- 
haiifled  forehantl.  It  was  a  |)owerful  shot.  Of- 
ten an  unbeatable  shot,  but  Dane  wasn't 
worried.  'Hie  Chilean's  backhand  was  his 
vulnerable  point.  Dane  had  formed  a  battle 
plan.  Hold  service  and  i^ound  Vargas'  back- 
hand lor  the  break-through.  I'edro  loved  lo 
.scamiKT.  Dane  would  keep  him  scani|x;ring, 
lire  him  out.  He  figured  that  I'edro  would 
give  everything  he  had  lo  lake  the  third  set 
if  Dane  had  taken  the  first  two.  Intermis- 
sion wouldn't  help  Vargas  much.  It  would 
help  Dane  more  because  he  wouldn't  be  so 
tired.  He'd  pour  il  on  in  the  fourth  set,  lake 
the  match  and  the  title. 

They  moved  to  the  net  for  short,  crisp 
volleys.  Returned  to  the  base  line  for  prac- 
tice serves.  Dane  walked  toward  the  umpire's 
bench  and  the  table.  As  he  picked  up  a  new 
bal  he  saw  I'rogg  standing  in  the  shadow  of 
the  umpire's  stand.  He  grinned  at  Progg. 

"Slill  maybe?"  Dane  asked. 

Progg  didn't  grin.  He  lifted  his  finger  lo 
his  leelh.  He  shook  his  head.  "It's  'No.'" 

The  umpire  was  speaking.  Vargas  twirled 
his  bal.  Dane  called.  He  won  the  service.  As 
he  walked  out  lo  the  base  line  he  grinned  in- 
wardly, savagely.  You'll  come  lo  me,  boy,  he 
menially  told  Progg.  Four  sets  from  now 
you'll  come  to  me.  jountain  pen  all  ready.  You 
need  me.  As  much  as  I  need  you. 

The  umpire's  droning  stopped.  He  said. 
"Ready?  Play." 

Dane  flicked  up  the  ball.  His  bal  arched. 
Pedro  \'argas  stroked  back  the  service,  low 
and  fast.  .  .  . 

Mt  went  the  way  Dane  had  planned.  He 
had  the  feel  of  the  game  today.  He 
didn't  think  of  anything  but  that  he  was 
engaged  in  a  fight  and  he  was  going  lo 
win.  He  had  lo  win.  They  didn't  like  him  — 
any  of  them.  From  the  umpire  in  his  high 
seat,  pompously  calling  tfie  score  in  his  loo- 
refined  voice,  to  the  gallery  surrounding  the 
courts.  He'd  never  played  up  to  them, 
clowned  for  them.  He  didn't  owe  them  any- 
thing. He  gave  full  value  for  everything  he 
received.  So  long  as  he  won,  it  didn't  mailer 
whether  they  liked  him  or  not. 

The  gallery  was  showing  its  favoritism, 
applauding  Vargas'  gets  and  points.  Once, 
after  a  long  rally,  when  Vargas  stroked  his 
blazing  forehand  and  Dane  got  his  bal  on 
the  ball  only  to  miss  the  side  line  by  a  hair- 
breadth, the  wolves  burst  into  loud  applause. 
From  his  high  chair  the  umpire  said  sourly. 
"The  gallery  w'ill  kindly  refrain  from  ap- 
plauding errors."  It  made  Dane  smile. 

He  poured  il  on.  He  look  the  first  set  at 
6-4,  the  second  at  6-3. 

They  had  both  been  playing  deep  and 
against  V'argas  that  was  the  game  Dane 
wanted  to  play.  In  the  third  set  Vargas 
must  have  realized  that  he  couldn't  compete 
with  Dane  from  the  base  line.  He  began  to 
come  in  fast  to  capture  the  net. 

Vargas'  tactics  were  vivid,  spectacular. 
The  gallery  screamed  and  clapped,  but  Dane 
only  grinned.  Vargas  was  playing  above  his 


How  you  can  make 
bcitcr  pie  crusts 
in  just  5  minutes 

— anolluT  lime 
iirul  inoiicy-M« vinu        ^  ^ 

r/ 


liiiU  (rom  Marii-  (iifToriJ, 

Armiiur' H  linnie  i-innnmiHl 


Miirii-  OifTord'H  h'ivr-  M initle  Pic  ('runt 
recipe  \H  printed  on  every  c(irt<»n  or  tin 
of  Armour  Hlnr  \,i\u\.  llHin((  thin  rccip*-, 
you  make  tender,  Ma  k  y  pantry  every  lime, 
and  do  il  more  ((uickly  with  kiM  work. 


You  keep  Armour  Lard  on  pantry  thelf. 

It  hli  rids  ijoic  kly  ;ind  e;i..^ily  with  flour 
and  Halt  becMu.se  it  h  kept  at  room  lem- 
perature.  Armour  Star  I-ard  in  guaran- 
teed to  stay  frr'sh  without  refrigeration. 


You    measure  flour  without  sifting  and 

thi-n  sift  with  salt  into  mixing  t)owl.  You 
save  time  and  use  fewer  utensil.s.  The 
proportions  in  this  recipe  are  just  right 
for  this  method  of  mixing. 


You  take  wafer  right  from  tap.  There's 
no  need  for  ice  water  in  this  recipe.  You 
use  less  water  when  ingredients  are  at 
room  temperature.  You  get  more  tender 
pastry  when  you  use  less  water. 

Got  a  pie-baking  question?  Just  write 
to  Marie  Oifford,  Dept.  103,  Box  20.53, 
Armour  and  Company,  Chicago  9,  III. 
— for  free  Picture  Book  of  Pie-Making 
Hints. 


Now  available  in  con- 
venient 3-lb.  tins! 


Armour  Star 
Lard 


100 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  I9s 


"Sorry,  got  to  let  go — /  just  remembered 
this  is  the  day  of  the  week  I  put  Drano  in  all  the  drainsr 


Better  to  let  in  a  few  bugs  than  to  let  dangerous  sewer 
germs  lurk  in  every  drain.  No  liquid  disinfectant  can 
budge  the  muck  they  breed  in.  It  takes  Drano  to  unclog 
drains  and  keep  them  running  free  and  clear.  Use  Drano 
once  a  week — every  week.  Won't  harm  septic  tanks. 
Makes  them  work  better.  Get  Drano  today  at  your  gro- 
cery, drug  or  hardware  store.  Also  available  in  Canada. 


There's  nothing  like  it ...  to  keep  drains  free-running. 


PRODUCTS  OF  THE  DRACKETT  COMPANY,  CINCINNATI,  OHIO 


4  /  ^ 


''''That  reminds  me:  Windex  Spray  cuts 
window-cleaning  time  in  half,  too." 

Window-cleaning's  a  whiz  with  Windex  Spray.  For 
it  actually  cuts  window-cleaning  time  in  half.  You 
just  spray  it  on,  wipe  lightly  and  presto— windows, 
mirrors,  all  sorts  of  glass  surfaces  come  clean  and 
bright— with  no  waxy  film  to  attract  dust  later. 
Windex  is  thrifty,  too.  And  it's  even  more  econom- 
ical in  the  big  20-oz.  refill  size.  Get  Windex  Spray 
at  your  grocery,  drug  or  hardware  store  today. 
Also  sold  in  Canada. 

So  quick,  easy,  fhrifty  it  outsells  all  other  glass  cleaners  combined! 


head,  playing  unbeatable  tennis,  but  he  was 
spending  himself.  Dane  let  up  a  little,  not 
chasing  hard  ones,  conserving  his  strength, 
willing  to  let  Vargas  have  this  third  set. 

The  gallery  viewed  Dane's  tactics  dimly. 
Their  applause  for  Pedro  was  deafening. 
When  Dane  deliberately  let  score  a  place- 
ment that  he  might  have  raced  for,  there 
were  scattered  boos.  Dane  didn't  care.  He 
would  come  back  after  the  intermission 
and  blast  Pedro  off  the  court. 

Mt  was  Vargas'  service,  with  the  score 
5-2.  Pedro  would  take  this  game.  He  was 
breathing  hard  as  he  poised  for  the  service, 
but  he  was  keyed  up,  playing  magnificently. 

Vargas'  first  service  was  a  booming  ace 
and  the  gallery  beat  its  hands.  Dane  stroked 
back  Pedro's  next  service.  Vargas  blazed  his 
forehand  and  came  to  the  net.  He  chopped 
Dane's  return  and  Dane  did  not  move  for 
the  angled  ball.  He  walked  to  the  base  line 
to  recei\ as  the  umpire  said,  "Thirty  love." 

Dane  took  the  third  service  on  his  back- 
hand, sent  it  straight  down  the  line.  Pedro 
raced  for  the  ball,  took  it  on  his  forehand. 
The  ball  came  low  and  hard  to  Dane's 
backhand.  He  uncon- 
sciously started  to  race 
for  the  ball.  Then  he  re- 
membered and  checked 
in  mid-stride.  But  the 
momentum  of  his  big 
body  made  him  twist. 
He  fell  awkwardly,  his 
bat  flying  out  of  his 
hand. 

He  heard  the  gallery 
laugh  and  in  that  mo- 
ment he  hated  them 
where  he  had  only  held 
them  in  contempt.  He 
got  up  and  took  a  step 
to  retrieve  his  bat  and 
an  intolerable  pain  shot 
through  his  right  foot. 
It  made  him  stumble. 
Deliberately  he  bent 
for  the  bat  and  straight- 
ened. He  walked  to  the 
base  line  to  receive,  but 
he  could  barely  put  any 
pressure  on  his  foot. 

He  was  aware  of  the 
umpire  looking  at  him ; 
of  Pedro  staring  at  him 
from  the  service  line,  of 
the  silence  of  the  gal- 
lery all  about.  He  set 
himself  to  receive.  Pe- 
dro threw  up  the  ball. 
His  bat  gleamed.  The 
ball  caromed  off  the  green  turf.  Dane  met  it 
squarely.  Pedro  scooped  the  ball  on  the 
dead  run  with  a  brilliant  half-volley.  Dane 
started  to  race  to  his  mid-court.  The 
moment  he  put  pressure  on  his  right  foot  he 
checked.  The  ball  sailed  past  him.  The 
umpire  said,  "Game  and  third  set.  Mr.  Tor- 
sen  leads,  two  sets  to  one." 

There  was  no  applause,  but  Dane  was  not 
aware  of  that.  He  walked  from  the  court,  his 
teetn  set  against  the  pain  that  coursed  up 
his  right  leg.  They  were  looking  at  him, 
their  eyes  wide. 

Pedro  Vargjs  came  to  ask,  his  face  stream- 
ing, "You  are  ;;11  right,  amigo?" 

"I'm  all  righ  ,"  Dane  said. 

He  made  the  dressing  room  and  sat  down, 
aware  of  nothing  but  the  fear  and  the  disap- 
pointment that  were  coursing  through  him, 
moiling  with  tht.  pain.  Someone  whistled, 
low.  Then  somecne  was  saying,  "Let  me 
have  a  look  at  that  ankle,"  and  when  Dane 
raised  his  head,  his  gray  eyes  hard,  the  man 
said,  "I'm  a  doctor.  Let  me  look  at  it." 

They  crowded  round.  A  man  appeared 
with  a  portable  mike.  There  was  silence  as 
the  doctor's  fingers  gently  probed  the  swell- 
ing. 

The  doctor  said,  "You're  lucky.  It's  just 
a  sprain.  You'll  be  ail  right  in  a  few  days." 

Dane  almost  laughed.  In  a  few  days. 

A  U.S.L.T.A.  official  asked  importantly, 
"Can  he  continue  play,  doctor?" 

"He  cannot,"  the  doctor  said,  and  the 
official  looked  at  Dane  and  nodded. 

"You'll  default,  To 'sen." 


I 


a 


III/  Marjnrit'  i^edvrer 

I  knev^  a  man  who  sang  his  love 

In  rhapsody  and  roundelay; 
A  poet,  blessed  with  silver 
tongue.  .  .  . 
(I  wonder  where  he  is  today.) 

I  knew  a  man,  an  artisan, 
Who  took  my  laughter  and  my 
tears 

And  made  of  them  a  golden 
crown.  .  .  . 
(I  haven't  seen  the  man  for 
years.) 

I  know  a  man — he  lives  here  now, 

And  I  am  his  forever  more: 
He  never  spoke  his  love  at  all. 
He  planted  roses  at  my  door. 


Dane  felt  anger  burning  bright  withii 
him.  "Default  nothing.  I'm  breathing' 
"But  " 

Dane  ignored  the  man.  He  looked  at  th 
doctor.  "Get  that  swelling  down  for  mei 
Give  my  foot  a  shot  and  bandage  it."  \ 

"You're  a  fool,"  the  doctor  said.  "It  wili J 
only  aggravate  the  injury." 

"I'm  playing,"  Dane  said.  His  voice  sTiool! 
They  were  looking  at  him,  but  he  didn't  care 
He  only  knew  he  was  going  to  play.  He  hai 
to  play.  Even  a  dog  didn't  quit  fightioi 
when  he  was  injured.  He  fought  till  he  di^ 
Dog  eat  dog. 

He  didn't  have  time  to  shower  and  change 
The  doctor  worked  on  Dane's  ankle  right  ti'i 
the  last  minute. 

When  Dane  came  out  onto  the  courtjl 
Pedro  was  already  there.  The  crowd  wa 
murmuring,  watchful.  ' 

Pedro  had  first  service.  Dane  told  him-' 
self  It's  your  right  foot.  It  wont  interfere  wTff 
service.  Keep  your  head,  keep  your  service  anf 
you  can  still  win.  His  foot  felt  oddly  numl^ 
but  it  didn't  hurt.  | 
Pedro  won  his  service.  Dane  won  his.  Th4' 
held  service  right  along  until  the  gam| 
stood  at  5-4  in  Pedrd 
favor  and  Dane  tp 
serve.  He  was  limpinj 
a  little  now  and  th$ 
pain  was  beginning  tc 
come  back,  but  he  could 
take  it. 

He  dropped  the  first 
two  points,  took  thj 
third.  Pedro  came  tc 
the  net  to  take  the  next 
point  and  Dane  took  a 
deep  breath  as  he  stood 
at  the  service  line.  It 
was  40-30  against  him. 
He  had  to  take  this 
point.  If  Pedro  took  thi 
set  Dane  knew  he  coul4 
not  hope  to  win.  j 
He  threw  up  the  ballj 
arched  his  racket.  Pe^ 
dro's  two-handed  fore- 
hand boomed  the  ball 
back.  Dane  took  it  low 
and  sent  it  angling.  It 
came  back  and  he 
stroked  harder.  Th| 
ball  hit  the  net  cord.  It 
rose,  hesitated  a  frac- 
tion of  a  second  and 
then  fell  back  on  Dane'^ 
side  of  the  net.  Thd 
gallery  groaned.  Thd 
sound  passed  over  Dane 
without  his  noticing. 
He  only  heard  the  umpire  booming,  "Sets  \ 
are  two  all." 

Dane  swallowed.  Darts  of  pain  were 
shooting  up  his  leg.  There  was  nausea  at 
his  stomach,  but  he  set  his  teeth. 

It  was  no  contest  in  the  final  set.  He  could 
barely  get  his  bat  on  the  ball.  As  he  moved 
about,  trying  not  to  show  the  pain  coursing 
tlrrough  him,  he  became  aware  of  the  gallery, 
Aware  of  their  long  silences  broken  only  by 
the  bursts  of  applause— applause  that  came 
only  when  he  scored.  Twice  the  umpire  had 
to  admonish  the  gallery  when  Vargas  errored, 
but  they  paid  no  heed.  Dane  stood  in  the 
waning  sunlight  and  even  in  the  midst  of  his 
pain  he  heard  and  could  not  believe. 


Pedro  swept  the  set  at  6-0.  He  came 
vaulting  over  the  net  as  the  crowd  rose, 
silent.  Pedro's  eyes  were  anguished.  He  put 
his  brown  hand  on  Dane's  arm.  "Amigo, 
what  could  I  do?  I  knew  you  would  kill  me 
if  I  eased  up  on  you." 

Dane  felt  himself  smiling,  felt  himself 
patting  Pedro's  shoulder.  "It's  all  right, 
champ,"  he  said.  "Good  game.  I  wish  I 
could  have  given  you  better  fun  the  last  two  1 
sets." 

Pedro  moved  with  him.  Dane  was  glad  of 
the  shoulder  under  his  arm.  As  they  started 
off  the  applause  rose,  beating  to  the  darken- 
ing blue  of  the  sky.  In  the  dressing  room 
they  crowded  about  him.  The  doctor  was 
pushing  him  down,  taking  off  the  bandage. 
"You  fool.  What  good  did  it  do?" 

(Continued  on  Page  103) 


f 


il  yoi 
here's 


Infaci 


iievei" 
WESl 


doiot 


\ 

i 


Bur-LiMES 


IjyAaiu'} 


W  ASI I  ION  forecasts  swim  suits  as  varird  in  style 
s-J^   as  sra  slicils  .  .  .  Init  a  slim,  iriiii  (ieurc  is  one 


AN  AOVKKTISINf;  I'Afii: 


tlimn  fvcry  haihinn  Iwauty  must  liavc.  So,  if  your 
wciglit  needs  wiiittlinK,  now's  tiie  time  to  start  a 
u-riMhlf  diet  .  .  .  and  exercise  excess  poundanf  away, 
loo!  I  suggest  you  ask  your  doctor's  advice  .  .  . 
know  what's  best  for ^ou. 

«^11F,  I'Ri.i.DOM  OF  YOUR  DKl'AMS  is  yours  wiien  you  own  a  superb  new 
^  VVl'.Sl  lN(;il()USI':  I'rost-I'ne  I'wo  Door  I''ree/.er-Refrij>erator  .  .  .  for  it  solves 
all  your  refrigerator  problems!  It  certainly  has  mine  and 
here's  why  ...  it  gives  me  liie  i:\tra  room  I've  always  wanted 
.  .  .  with  the  just-right  type  and  degree  of  cold  for  all  foods! 
In  fact,  there  are  special  temijcratures  for  eacii  of  the  f)  cold 
zones  .  .  .  the  Freezer,  Butter  Kec-])er,  Meat  Kec-pc-r.  (ienc-ral 
Storage  Area  and  2  huge  vegetai)le  Mumidrawers.  And  you 
never  worry  abcnit  any  of  your  food  .  .  .  because  this  spac  ious 
WESTINCIIOUSR  Refrigerator  controls  temperatures  .  .  . 
automatically!  In  addition,  it's  C()ni[)letely  F'rost-Free  .  .  .  ii 
dchosts  itself  c-xaclly  when  needed.  There's  no  defrosting  to 
do  in  either  the  77  lb.  zero-cold  F'rcezer  or  in  the-  Rc-fi  igeratcjr. 

And  for  reach-easy  convenience  there  are  both  adjustable  and  roll-out  siiclves!  But 
learn  all  about  this  new  WES  TINCJIOUSE  Frost-Free  Refrigerator  ...  at  your 
Dealer's.  You  can  be  Sure  ...  if  it's  WESTINGHOUSE ! 

la.lCiri'  YOUR  mother  on  Mother's  Day  with  a  gift  she'll  surely  treasure 
tyD  ...  a  gay,  colorful  MORG.XN-JONES  Kitchen  Ensemble  .  .  .  consisting  of 
matching  dish  towels,  dish  cloths  and  pot  holders.  They're  the  prettiest  I've  ever 

seen  .  .  .  with  attractively  spaced  multi-colored  stripes 
that  provide  color  harmony  to  brighten  any  kitchen! 
MORGAN-JONES  Kitchen  Cottons  mean  work  harmony, 
too  .  .  .  for  they're  as  practical  as  they're  pretty.  For 
instance,  the  superior  wearing  and  absorption  qualities 
of  the  towels  have  been  proved  by  actual  use  and  labora- 
tory tests.  And  they're  perfect  in  size  .  .  .  big  enough 
for  the  biggest  bowls  but  not  the  least  bit  bulky.  As  for 
the  dish  cloths,  they  speed  cleaning  like  magic  .  .  .  while 
the  pot  holders  really  protect  your  hands.  And  they're 
all  color-fast  .  .  .  with  strongly  stitched  hems.  So  give 
Mother  MORGAN-JONES  Kitchen  Cottons  this  year  ...  all  the  "best-dressed" 
kitchens  "wear"  them!  On  sale  at  Grocery  and  Variety  Stores  and  Eincn  Departments. 

JF  YOU'VE  BEEN  FACED  with  the  age-old  problem  of  screens  rusting  and 
copper  screens  staining  the  outside  of  your  home,  it's  time  you  discovered 
KRYLON.  The  clear,  acrylic  spray  covers  screens  with  a  protective  coating  that 
stops  rust  and  staining.  Tell  hubby  he  can  spray  several 
screens  at  once.  KRYLON'S  fine  spray  is  guaranteed 
not  to  clog  the  mesh.  Another  popular  use  for  KRYLON 
is  spraying  paintings.  So  many  people  are  enjoying  this 
pastime  today.  Whether  you  paint  freehand  or  follow 
the  popular  number  system,  you'll  find  Clear  KRYLON 
wonderful  for  protecting  the  finished  painting.  It  goes 
on  clear,  dries  in  a  few  minutes,  and  stays  clear  forever. 
KRYLON  is  very  popular  with  commercial  artists. 
This  amazing  product  is  also  sprayed  on  photos.  Keeps  them  from  getting  dog-eared, 
protects  them  from  scratching  and  turning  yellow.  Ask  for  KRYLON  at  Department, 
Hardware,  Art  or  Stationery  stores.  Besides  Clear,  KRYLON  comes  in  White, 
Aluminum  and  Black. 

/j  GIRL'S  BEST  FRIEND  (a  boy's,  too!)  is  Mother  .  .  . 
.^.yv    so  be  sure  to  show  her  just  how  much  you  love  her 
on  Mother's  Day!  How?  Well,  you  might  send  a  WESTERN 
UNION  Telegram  ...  for  I  know  how  happy  she'd  be  to 
receive  the  attractive  greeting  envelope  .  .  .  then  read  your 
own  aff~ectionate  message  on  a  beautiful,  color-illustrated 
WESTERN  UNION  blank  which  will  become  her  cherished 
keepsake.  And  it's  so  easy  to  send  a  Telegram  ...  all  you  do 
is  telephone  WESTERN  UNION,  give  them  your  message 
and  charge  it  on  your  phone  bill.  She'd  also  appreciate  a 
Telegraphic  Gift  Money  Order  .  .  .  delivered  in  handsome  check 
form  and  decorative  envelope.  Or  you  could  send  her  Flowers- 
By-Wire  ...  by  calling  any  Florist's  Telegraphic  Delivery  Shop  and  have  them  deliver 
her  a  bright  bouquet. 
FREE  Booklet  called  "The  Western  Union  Telegrammar".  .  .  with  a  monthly  reminder  calendar, 
spaces  for  names  and  addresses  .  .  .  plus  suggested  sentiments  for  all  occasions.  It's  invaluable 
.  .  .  see  OFFER  #1  In  coupon. 

n^ECORATE  YOUR  BATHROOM  with  colorful  beauty  .  .  . 
cU-J  by  giving  each  member  of  the  family  his  own  gaily-hued 
O-CEL-O  Sponge  for  bathing.  That's  what  I've  done  ...  for  they 
add  a  bright-as-springtime  touch!  And  there  are  colors  to  please 
every  taste  .  .  .  seafoam  green,  ocean  blue,  sunrise  yellow,  shell  pink 
and  natural.  O-CEL-O  Sponges  are  oh-so  gentle,  too  .  .  .  they 

make  bathing  an  exquisite  pleasure.  And  talk  about  saving  you 
money  .  .  .  O-CEL-O  Sponges  boast  an  exclusive  "Water-Breathing 
Action"  which  makes  your  soap  last  longer  by  making  a  little  do 
a  lot.  And  since  they  also  use  less  soap  and  cleansers,  yet  clean 
better,  easier,  faster,  put  them  to  work  all  through  the  house  .  .  . 
for  washing  dishes,  woodwork  and  windows  ...  as  well  as 
polishing  your  furniture  and  silver.  O-CEL-O  Sponges  come 
in  sizes  to  fit  every  chore  and  are  extra-long  lasting  ...  so  get 
a  complete  assortment  when  you  shop! 


(^i. 1,1,1'  1,1  Ki:  A  QUEEN  in  Ccjrcjnation  Colors  by  LADY  FEPPERELL  . 
— J    for  these  exquisite  slieets  proiniw  you  a  royal  reception  to  sweetest  dreams. 
Wliat's  more,  you  can  buy  them  now  at  thrifty  May  prices 
.  .  .  both  the  Regular  LADY  PEPPER  EM.  and  the  new 
Snug  Fit  Shec-ls  ...  in  Princ:ess  Pink,  Wiiidscjr  Rose,  Royal 
C)rc  hid,  Due  hcss  Ye  llow,  Asccji  CJreen  and  Buckingham  Blue! 
And  speaking  of  the  Snug  F'it  Shc-ets,  they're  j/J  stronf>er  at 
the  cornc-rs  than  ordinary  filled  shc-ets  .  .  .  stronger  on  ycjur 
bed  and  in  the  laundry.  Just  think  what  this  means  ...  in 
terms  of  extra  wear.  'Fhey  stay  smcKjther  fcjr  swcreter  sleeping, 
tcKj  .  .  .  becau.se  thc-ir  four  pre-shaped  ccjrners  hug  the-  mat- 
trc-ss  .so  snugly  at  lop  and  boitcjm  they  can't  wrinkle  or  pull 
out.  'I'his  cuts  bed-making  time  in  half  ...  by  eliminating 
daily  smoothing  and  tucking.  And  LADY  PEPPI-RELL  .Snug  Fit  Sheets  need  no 
ironing  .  .  .  thc-y're  alscj  Sanforized.  Come  in  both  muslin  and  perc  ale,  cjf  course  .  .  . 
but  turn  to  page  167  and  sc-c-  the-  stunning  display  of  L,M)Y  PEPPER  1,1,1,  Sheets. 

(^PRINt;  IS  HERE  and  wedding  bells  are  ringing  ...  so  I'd  like  to  "chime"  in 
^3  with  a  sugge  stion  of  my  own.  It's  simply  this  .  .  .  that  you  "salulc"  the  happy 
occasion  with  a  RUST  CRAFT  Card.  Their  artistic  illustrations  pcjriray  the  full 
significance  of  such  memorable  events  .  .  .  anci  with  the  wide 
choice  of  sentimenls,  you  can  select  ihe  rii^hl  card  to  carry  each 
message  in  just  the  way  you  yourself  would  like  to  say  it.  And 
think  of  RU.ST  CRAFT  CarcJs  when  you  want  to  say  "Happy 
Anniversary"  and  "  Thank  you".  .  .  because  you'll  find,  as  I 
have,  that  they  mcjsi  truly  express ^our  sentiments!  I  also  recom- 
mend RUST  CRAFT  Hasti-Notcs  which  I  use  all  the  time 
...  for  they're  beautifully  designed  with  space  to  write  Just 
anything  you  wish.  They  make  perfect  gifts  and  are  wonderful 
for  canasta,  bridge  and  other  party  prizes,  too  ...  so  I  always 
keep  several  boxes  on  hand.  The  cost  is  so-o-o  little  .  .  .  only 
$1.00  a  box.  So  remember  RUST  CRAFT  .  .  .  when  you 
want  to  say  "I  remember." 

//ERE'S  WONDERFUL  NEWS  .  .  .  about  a  wonderful  new  product  that  helps 
«_yv  bring  amazingly  quick,  comforting  relief  from  Athlete's  Foot!  It's  CUTICURA 
MEDICATED  LIQUID  ...  a  greaseless,  stainless,  "invisi- 
ble" preparation  that's  so  effectively  antiseptic  it  stops  itch-  \  i  j 
ing  instantly  and  quickly  relieves  that  burning  feeling  that's  \>'  ,  / 
such  a  torment.  And  unlike  other  preparations  you  mav  r\PC\0'  I 
have  tried,  CUTICURA  MEDICATED  LIQUID  never ^U^^'  i 
irritates  .  .  .  instead  it  gently  soothes  discomfort  while  it  /^f/pf' 
speeds  healing  of  raw,  open  cracks!  It's  Just  as  effective  for  |  )f' 
soothing  insect  bites,  too  ...  as  well  as  externally  caused  ^ 
blemishes.  Furthermore,  you  can  use  it  frequently  during  /// 
the  day  .  .  .  for  it  leaves  no  tell-tale  medicinal  odor  and  can  / 
be  applied  either  over  or  under  your  make-up.  Want  to 
try  it?  Of  course,  you  do  ...  so  let  me  send  you  this: 

GENEROUS  SAMPLE  ...  so  you  can  prove  to  yourself  how  truly  wonderful  CUTICURA  MEDICATED 

LIQUID  is.  It's  yours  for  just  10c  ..  .  see  OFFER  #2  in  coupon. 

^RE  YOU  AS  LOVELY  LOOKING  as  you'd  like  to  be?  It  may  surprise 
you  .  .  .  but  clever  make-up  can  make  all  the  difference!  And  to  do  a  really 
professional  job,  use  a  Q-TIPS  Swab  ...  for  these  dainty 
little  applicator  sticks  that  are  so  ideal  for  baby  care  are  also 
the  perfect  cosmetic  accessory.'  That's  because  they  have  soft  cotton 
securely  anchored  at  both  ends  ...  it  never  becomes  loose 
or  messy  and  never  leaves  lint.  In  other  words,  Q-TIPS  are 
so  neat  and  convenient  to  use,  I  consider  them  a  "must"  for 
such  beauty  treatments  as  applying  rouge,  lipstick  and  eye 

^-^^^  '    I  shadow  .  .  .  for  removing  nail  polish,  excess  powder,  mascara 

\  ^^^St^^^A  smudges,  etc.  Q-TIPS  now  come  in  a  new  pretty  pink  pack- 

ggg^  _  with  many  make-you-prettier  "Q's"  inside.  So 

get  one  today  .  .  .  then  try  this  eye  tip: 
Outline  upper  lid  of  eyes  with  soft  eyebrow  pencil  to  define  their  shape.  To  avoid  harsh  lines, 
blend  and  soften  eye-line  with  a  Q-TIPS  for  a  smooth  natural  effect. 
Now  look  in  the  mirror  .  .  .  you'll  see  what  I  mean  about  clever  make-up. 


\ 


w 


OMEN  HAVE  A  WAY  of  getting  what  they  want  ...  so  it's  no  wonder  that 
now  there's  a  corn  plaster  made  especially  to  fit  a  woman's  smaller  toes!  It's 


and  it's  narrower 


the  new  BLUE-JAY  Ladies'  Size  Corn  Plaster  with  Phenylium 
and  smaller  than  regular  size  corn  plasters  ...  so  dainty  it 
fits  snugly  even  in  your  dressiest  shoes.  And  Phenylium  is 
BLUE-JAY'S  new  Wonder  Drug  that  helps  push  out  corns 
.  .  .  from  underneath!  You  see,  it  travels  quickly  and  gently- 
down  through  your  corn  right  to  its  base  where  it  helps 
new  live  tissue  cells  to  grew  .  .  .  then  soon  these  new  cells 
push  up  even  a  stubborn  corn  .  .  .  you  just  lift  it  out !  The 
facts  speak  for  themselves  ...  in  actual  tests  Phenylium  went  to 
work  33%  faster  and  worked  35%  more  surely  than  old-style 
remedies.  That's  why  I  say  ...  if  you  want  fast,  welcome  relief  from  a  painful  corn, 
try  new  BLUE-JAY  Ladies'  Size  Corn  Plasters  with  Phenylium!       all  drug  counters. 


NEW  DRUG 


PHENYLIUAA 


Write  Nancy  Sasser,  271  Madison  Ave.,  New  York  16,  N.Y.  for: 

□  OFFER  #1  .  .  ."The  Western  Union  Te/egrammar"— FREE. 

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Name  


. Slate- 


102  L  A   D    I    E    S  '       II    O    ^r    E       J    O    U    K    N    A   L  May,  1953 


Starts  off  as  top  winner  at  two  different  fairs 


Wins  20  Prize  Ribbons 
in  First  Year  of  Cool(ing  Competition 


Her  three  children  are  full  of  ad- 
miration for  Mrs.  Dale  MalKcoat's 
first  cooking  awards!  Mrs.  Mallicoat 
started  off  last  fall  by  winning  8 
prize  ribbons  at  the  Polk  County 
Fair.  Then  she  went  on  to  even 
stiffer  competition  at  the  Oregon 
State  Fair,  where  she  won  12  more 
ribbons  for  her  cooking  skill! 

Mrs.  Mallicoat  of  Monmouth, 
Oregon,  is  another  of  the  many  prize- 
winning  cooks  who  praise  Fleisch- 
mann's  Active  Dry  Yeast.  "I  Uke  it 


best  of  aU,"  she  says,  "because  it's 
so  fast — and  so  easy  to  use!" 

Now  when  you  bake  at  home  it's 
convenient  to  use  yeast.  Fleisch- 
mann's  Active  Dry  Yeast  is  so  much 
handier  than  the  old-fashioned  yeast 
cake — it  keeps  for  months  on  your 
pantry  shelf,  always  rises  fast.  That's 
why  prize- winning  cooks  prefer  it! 
Out  of  5000  winners  surveyed  97% 
use  Fleischmann's  Active  Dry  Yeast. 
So  look  for  the  Fleischmaim  label  to 
be  sure  you  get  the  best. 


MIX  YOUR  OWN 
SALAD  DRESSING 

in4oseconc/s. 


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Mix  —  then  add  vine- 
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5  DELICIOUS  SALAD  DRESSING  MIXES 

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If  your  grocer  liasn't  Good  Seasons 
Mixes  and  Mixing  Bottle,  send  us  his 
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Address  Good  Seasons,  Hollywood  38,  Calif. 


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(Continued  from  Page  100) 

Dane  just  shook  his  head.  He  couldn't 
answer.  He  still  heard  the  applause  of  the 
crowd.  It  had  been  for  him.  He  couldn't 
grasp  it,  but  he  knew  it  was  so. 

He  took  his  shower,  came  back  to  let  the 
doctor  fuss  over  his  ankle  some  more.  The 
crowd  in  the  dressing  room  had  thinned. 
Someone  sat  down  beside  Dane  as  the  doctor 
was  putting  on  a  new  bandage.  Dane  lifted 
his  head  and  saw  Benny  Progg's  round  face. 

Benny  said,  "How  about  me  coming 
around  to  talk  business  tonight?" 

Dane  stared.  "I  thought  it  was  'No.'" 

"Not  now,"  Benny  said.  "I  guess  I  had 
you  wrong,  like  the  galleries  did.  I  thought 
you  were  a  glory  boy. 
But  you're  not,  Torsen. 
You've  got  what  the 
crowd  likes." 

"  I  didn't  win." 

"That's  0,K,  All  over 
the  country  they're  talk- 
ing about  you  now.  They'll 
flock  to  see  you.  How 
about  it?"  Benny  asked. 

The  doctor  patted  the  bandaged  ankle, 
stood  up.  "That  should  hold  you."  He 
walked  away  before  Dane  could  speak. 

Benny  said  again,  "How  about  it?" 

Dane  drew  a  'deep  breath.  He  couldn't 
think.  He  could  only  speak  as  he  felt.  He 
said,  "I  don't  think  so,  Benny.  Not  this 
year,  anyhow.  I'm  going  down  to  Florida  to 
work  with  my  brother.  And  next  year  I  may 
take  another  crack  at  the  title.  I  don't  want 
to  look  farther," 

The  thought  of  Ellen  came  to  him  and  he 
bit  his  lip,  his  heart  sinking. 

Dusk  was  falling,  the  sky  was  blue-black 
when  Dane  came  out.  The  street  lamps  were 
on  and  bats  flew  crazily  about  the  amber 
light  and  into  and  out  of  the  quiet-leafed 
trees.  The  crowd  was  gone  and  the  flagpoles 
rose  empty  above  the  stadium. 

Dane  didn't  see  Ellen  until  her  hand  went 
under  his  arm.  She  said,  "The  car  is  over 
here,"  He  let  her  help  him.  He  got  in  and 
Ellen  closed  the  door  and  went  around  to 
slide  under  the  wheel.  She  turned  to  look  at 


One  may  talk  too  much  on 
the  best  of  subjects. 

—BENJAMIN  FRANKLIN 
•••••••••• 


him.  She  said,  "  I  was  right,  wasn't  I,  Dane?  " 
and  there  was  a  pleading  in  her  voice 
that  shook  Dane, 

He  could  only  nod  his  head,  not  trusting 
himself  to  speak. 

Ellen  said,  "  You  were  a  little  boy  and  you 
felt  your  dad's  bitterness,  I'm  sure  he  didn't 
mean  for  you  to  take  it  like  that,  Sam  isn't 
like  that  at  all.  Sam  knows  that  people  don't 
hate  unreasoningly.  That  they  don't  kick  a 
man  just  for  the  fun  of  it.  They  can't  help 
rooting,  but  it's  always  for  the  underdog. 
You  were  so  self-sufficient  they  never  had  a 
chance  to  show  you,  but  when  you  kept  on 
fighting,  with  nothing  to  go  on  but  sheer 
courage,  they  were  with  you— everyone." 

"I  know,"  Dane  said. 
"I  was  wrong,  Ellen.  I  — 
I'm  glad." 

The  engine  caught.  The 
motor  throbbed  gently. 

Dane  said,  "I'm  going 
to  Florida.  To  the  ranch." 
He  met  her  gaze.  He  shook 
his  head.  "Benny  asked 
me.  I'm  not  accepting." 
He  saw  the  shine  of  her  eyes  in  the  dim- 
ness, but  all  she  said  was,  "I'll  take  you  to 
the  hotel.  We  can  have  dinner  there  and  — 
and  celebrate," 

"But  your  date  "  Dane  said.  He  saw 

the  shimmer  of  her  hair.  "But  you  said  you 
had  a  date  with— with  someone  I  didn't 
know.  That  it  was— is  serious," 

•  Ellen's  voice  was  lo\y  but  clear,  "  I  thought 
you  didn't  know  him,  but  you  do.  A  boy 
I've  been  in  love  with  a  long  time.  But  I 
thought  he  existed  only  in  my  imagination. 
That  in  reality  he  was  hard  and  bitter  and 
self-centered.  That  was  why  I  said  that, 
Dane.  Bui  I  was  wrong  too.  Ever  so  wrong. 
He  does  exist." 

Dane's  throat  was  tight.  He  put  out  his 
hand,  almost  fearsomely.  And  then  Ellen's 
arms  were  about  him,  her  hair  was  fragrant 
against  his  cheek. 

She  said,  deeply,  "Darling,  come  home 
with  me  to  Massachusetts  and  then  we  can 
drive  down  to  Florida  together.  Will  you, 
please?" 


YOUNG  PEASANT  GIRL 

(Continued  from  Page  61) 


and  Belgium,  when  he  was  for  a  time  an 
Evangelical  preacher.  It  had  brought  him  to 
ecstasy  and  anguish  in  Paris,  where  the  vor- 
tex of  artistic  theories  almost  unbalanced  his 
mind. 

It  had  reached  a  climax  at  Aries,  when 
the  clash  of  Gauguin's  personality  broke 
through  his  slender  wall  of  reason.  And  finally 
it  had  resolved  itself  in  the  only  possible  out- 
come, his  mental  collapse,  which  was  fol- 
lowed by  that  terrible  gesture  when  he  cut 
off  his  ear  and  sent  it  as  a  Christmas  present 
to  a  prostitute. 

Meanwhile,  from  first  to  last,  he  painted 
with  an  enraptured  and  at  times  a  fearful 
abandon.  Oils  and  drawings  streamed  into 
his  brother  Theo's  office  at  the  art  dealers', 
Goupil  and  Co.  They  filled  all  the  space  that 
could  be  spared  to  them  at  the  store  and  then 
filled  Theo's  house;  they  grew  dim  and  dirty 
under  beds.  They  aroused  an  occasional 
critic  to  praise,  but  they  attracted  no  buyers 
whatever. 

Poor,  devoted  brother  Theo,  how  he  must 
have  suffered  under  this  torrent  of  creativity, 
for  which  there  seemed  no  outlet  and  which 
gradually  formed  a  stagnant  pool  of  genius 
more  and  more  injurious  to  his  brother's 
mind. 

But  at  Auvers  for  a  time  Vincent  seemed 
better.  He  liked  his  new  doctor.  He  painted 
his  portrait.  He  felt  a  deep  sympathy  for  a 
man  who  also  had  "the  heartbroken  expres- 
sion of  our  time,"  as  he  wrote  Gauguin, 
Though  always  fearful  of  another  attack. 
Van  Gogh  seemed  happy  in  his  work,  hope- 
ful that  at  last  he  could  resist.  Gradually, 
however,  his  mind  grew  clouded  again.  His 
letters  to  Theo  became  less  coherent,  tinged 
with  a  deepening  melancholy.  He  found  that 
he  could  paint  only  "  sadness  and  the  extreme 
of  loneliness." 


His  daemon  of  despair  had  found  him  out 
once  more.  Perhaps  in  the  picture  repro- 
duced he  decided  to  paint  the  portrait  of  his 
familiar  spirit,  to  embody  all  his  sorrow  in 
the  features  of  a  young  peasant  girl.  It  is  one 
of  his  most  beautiful  and  touching  pictures. 
The  girl's  frail  body,  her  long  thin  arms  with 
their  large,  awkward  hands,  the  droop  of  her 
shoulders,  the  huge  eyes,  vacant  and  staring, 
convey  an  effect  of  tranquil  sadness.  All 
around  her  is  the  tender  green  of  early  sum- 
mer. She  stands  in  the  midst  of  nodding 
heads  of  wheat  like  some  wispy  and  unhappy 
spirit  of  the  fields. 

Growing  crops  of  wheat  held  a  deep  fas- 
cination for  Van  Gogh  in  the  last  few  weeks 
of  his  life.  He  found  them  hard  to  paint.  As 
he  wrote  Gauguin,  "  It  is  a  question  of  differ- 
ent greens,  of  the  same  value,  so  as  to  form  a 
green  ensemble  which,  by  its  vibration,  will 
make  you  think  of  the  gentle  rustle  of  ears  of 
wheat  swaying  in  the  breeze," 

As  background  to  his  portrait  they  are 
rendered  by  the  most  abstract  notation,  but 
with  that  mystical  intensity  described  by 
Traherne,  "The  com  was  orient  and  im- 
mortal wheat,  which  never  should  be  reaped, 
nor  was  ever  sown,"  To  hold  this  vision  Van 
Gogh  worked  more  feverishly  than  ever.  He 
knew  the  danger  in  this.  Shortly  before  he 
shot  himself  he  wrote  his  brother,  "Well,  my 
own  work,  I  am  risking  my  life  for  it  and  my 
reason  has  half  foundered  in  it — that's  all 
right."  He  was  resigned.  "Painters have  more 
and  more  their  backs  to  the  wall,"  he  ad- 
mitted. At  last  he  was  ready  to  accept  the 
terrible  truth  Emerson  has  expressed,  "The 
artists  must  be  sacrificed  to  their  art.  Like 
the  bees,  they  must  put  their  lives  into  the 
sting  they  give."  —John  Walker. 

Chief  Curator,  National  Gallery  of  Art. 

THE  END 


(rood  Seasons 

The  Original  Salad  Dressini  Mixes 

ALSO  BARBEQUE  AND  SEASONING  SALTS. 
AND  ITALIAN  SPAGHETTI   SAUCE  MIX 

AT  YOUR  GROCERS 


L  A   I)    I    i:    S  '       II    I)    M  I 


I     O     I       l(      \      \  I 


SUREST  TMING  YOU  LIKE  IS  .  . .  '""l' 


What  fii)/  it  is  to  fix  a  flavor  surprise  with 
a  can  of  Pineapple!  Broiled  or 
baked  or  juice  by  the  glass  . .  .with  salads  or  desserts  or  meat. . . 

canned  Pineapple  brings  hapj:)y  eating.  Fixe  convenient  forms, 
hint  cuts  and  juice,  help  liven  and  vary  your  menus. 
And  canned  Pineapple  is  good  for  health,  providing  quick  food  energy, 
vitamins  and  minerals.  You'll  find  it  a  good  idea  to  keep  a 
Pineapple  Shelf"  in  yom-  kitchen . . .  and  stock  it  two  or  three  cans  deep 
with  all  5  [onus  of  canned  Pineapple  (more  families  already  have 
canned  Pineapple  on  hand  than  any  other  fruit). 
To  pei  k  u])  meals  from  breakfast  to  bedtime . .  .  reach  often. 

for  a  can  of  Nature's  most  refreshing  flavor! 


Broil  lamb  chops  one  side;  turn;  broil  until  nearly 
done.  Top  each  chop  with  slice  of  canned  Pineapple; 
put  back  under  flame  till  Pineapple  turns  light  brown 


so  convenient  for  cooking  and  baking, 
for  sundaes,  icings,  sauces,  sandwiches 


bite-size,  to  bring  glamor  to  meats, 
decorate  cakes,  for  molded  and 
tossed  green  salads 


small  crisp  wedges,  tempting  in 
puddings,  fruit  cups,  on  cereal,  in 
cool  drinks 


_        Pi>TEAPr'i-E  Orowebs  Association.  San  Francisco 


104 


DI  PIETRO 


Sophie  Tuf'kvr 

replied  with  a  fragment  of  her  own  life  story :  "  Why  was  I  born?  Yes, 
I  asked  my  mother  and  dad  that  question.  I  think  I  was  about  seven 
or  eight  years  old  and  we  were  very  very  poor— no  toys— no  new 
dresses— always  in  the  kitchen  washing  and  wiping  dishes  in  our  little 
25-cent  restaurant.  "Why  was  I  born?'  I  asked  my  folks  again  at 
twelve,  thirteen  and  fourteen  years  old,  when  I  was  a  full-fledged 
'slavey'  in  a  little  rooming  house  and  restaurant.  I  was  the  only  help 
with  my  older  brother— poor  mother  too  tired,  too  heartsick  to  answer 
me,  yet  in  her  great  wisdom  her  one  answer  was,  '  When  you  grow  up, 
when  you  have  your  own  family,  when  you  go  out  into  the  world— you 
will  yourself  find  the  answer. ' " 

Juek  Benny 

"What  am  I  doing  here  on  earth?  Trying  to  figure  out  why  I 
was  born !" 


Suppose  a  chiltl  yon  loved  came  to  yon  tvith  the  question, 

"IF'/iy  ivas  I  born?^^  She  tvants  to  know  what  she  is  doing  here  on  earth, 

what  her  purpose  is  in  life. 

We  wrote  to  a  nnmber  of  famons  people, 

reqnesling  their  own,  personal  views:  "^In  a  worUl  that  sometimes  seems 
full  of  horror  and  despair,  what  has  been  your  reason  for  life?" 
Because  of  these  people^ s  achievements,  we  believe  their  ariswers  will  be 
of  particular  interest  to  JOURNAL  readers. 
Here  are  the  replies  of  some  famous  men  and  women: 


Wall  IHsnvfi. 

creator  of  world-beloved  picture  fables,  answered,  "The 
little  girl  who  asked  the  question  'Why  was  I  born?'  re- 
flects what  nearly  every  parent  in  the  world  has  been 
asked  by  his  offspring  from  time  immemorial.  I  came  of  a 
devotedly  religious  family.  They  told  me  everyone  was 
sent  here  for  a  purpose,  and  the  guidance  I  received  from 
the  Divine  Spirit  would  direct  me  along  the  path  in- 
tended for  me  to  follow.  The  mission  for  which  each  of  us 
is  designated  is  acc(jmpiished  sometimes  through  pain,  strife,  and  again  with  a 
smoothness  which  sometimes  amazes  us  as  we  reflect  on  our  progress  on  earth.  But 
always  our  objective  must  be  attained  through  a  spirit  of  contriteness  and  reflection 
and  with  a  sincere  belief  that  our  Divine  Guide  knows  what  is  best  for  us  all.  It's 
the  anchor  that  helps  us  ride  safely  in  port." 

MJIIian  Imilhri'th. 

mother  of  twelve  children  and  a  distinguished  businesswoman  herself:  "Birth 
brings  us  an  opportunity  for  service.  Life  is  a  series  of  problems— our  solutions 
may  make  it  easier  for  someone  else  to  solve  his  problems.  If  one  thinks  of 
life  as  a  series  of  interesting  experiences,  it  has  a  challenge  that  keeps  one  ready 
for  whatever  comes." 

3#r*.  Earl  Warren, 

wife  of  the  governor  of  California,  gave  us  a  simple  statement: 
"We  were  born  to  help  one  another." 

3tary  Koberts  itinehart, 

well-beloved  writer,  wrote  us,  "If  I  were  asked  why  I  was  born,  I 
would  probably  say  that  I  hope  it  is  largely  in  preparation  for  a  bet- 
ter and  very  interesting  life  hereafter.  Also  that  I  feel  I  have  a 
real  purpose  while  here  on  this  earth;  that  is,  to  be  helpful  and  useful,  and  perhaps 
to  spread  the  thing  in  which  Jesus  Christ  so  thoroughly  believed— loving-kind- 
ness and  understanding." 

Julian  Huxley, 

the  English  philosopher  and  biologist,  stated,  "We  are  here  to  realize  our  possibil- 
ities to  the  fullest  extent,  and  to  help  others,  now  and  in  the 
future,  to  realize  theirs." 

IParitI  Ben-iiurion. 

the  Prime  Minister  of  Israel,  in  a  letter  to  the  Journal  says. 
"Many  an  answer  can  of  course  be  given  to  the  question  of  the 
little  girl : '  Why  was  I  born? '  It  seems  to  me  that  we  were  born  in 
order  that  humanity— and  nature  too— should  always  remain 
young  in  body  and  spirit,  be  able  to  see  things  as  if  for  the  first 
time,  and  act  \wth  new  vigor— mental,  moral  and  physical." 


n 


depend  entirely 
are  giving  to  it 


OMftir  llaniHwrMtvin  II, 

the  famous  lyricist,  replied,  '"Twenty-three  years  ago  I 
wrote  a  song  with  Jerome  Kern,  and  its  title  was  "  Why  Was 
I  Born?'  which  is  the  very  theme  you  have  asked  me  to 
discuss.  I  must  return  to  my  song  and  quote  the  first  four 
lines  of  the  refrain:  'Why  was  I  born?  Why  am  I  living? 
What  do  I  get?  What  am  I  giving?'  Here  are  four  cjucstions 
in  a  row.  The  third  and  the  fourth  (juestion  imply  the  answer 
to  the  first  two.  Why  you  are  Ixjrn  and  why  you  are  living 
on  what  you  are  getting  out  of  the  world,  and  what  you 
I  cannot  prove  that  this  is  a  balance  of  mathematical  per- 
fection, but  my  own  observation  of  life  leads  me  to  the  conclusion  that  there 
is  a  very  real  relationship,  both  quantitatively  and  qualitatively,  between 
what  you  contribute  and  what  you  lake  out  of  this  world  while  you  are 
living  in  it,  and  that  when  you  have  spent  your  last  day  on  earth,  the 
history  of  what  you  have  given  and  taken  is  the  answer  to  the  question, 
'  Why  was  I  born? ' " 

wrote:  "This  question  is  the  first  question  in  every  Christian  catechism.  And 
the  answer  is  always  the  same: '  You  were  born  to  know,  love  and  serve  God.' 
And  so  it  is,  and  so  I  would  answer  a  child.  'You  were  born,  darling,  to  love 
and  be  loved.  To  love  perfect  Truth,  perfect  Mercy,  perfect  Love,  and  to  be 
loved  by  Him.  And  mamma  and  papa  aren't  perfect  (as  you  will  discover 
one  day),  but  He  who  made  you  is.  Seek  Him.  We 
will  help  you.  child,  as  best  we  can.  because  this 
is  what  we  are  all  born  to  do.  And  if  we  don't  try 
to  do  it— together  — it  were  better  for  us.  and  for 
you,  that  you  had  never  been  born.'  " 

3lika  Waltari. 

known  to  Americans  as  a  historical  novelist,  wrote  I 
from  Finland,  "Here,  in  the  world  where  I  was  I 
born  I  have  to  fill  my  intrinsic  purpose.  Art,  science  or  any  kind  of  creative 
activity  cannot  save  me  from  restrictions  of  time  and  space.  My  learning, 
my  illusions,  my  success,  even  my  relations  to  other  people,  are  only  a  dis- 
guise—a disguise,  when  shorn,  that  leaves  me  hopelessly  naked  to  ask, 
Why— why?  What  is  the  purpose?  I  don't  know.  I  cannot  know  it.  Nor 
is  it  necessary  for  me  to  know  it.  My  groping,  destitute  faith  has  to  suf?ice, 
because  I  am  only  human." 

Alhvrl  Kinstvin, 

whose  discoveries  have  reshaped  our  world,  wrote  to  say, 
"The  question  'why'  in  the  sense  of  'to  what  purpose'  has. 
in  my  opinion,  meaning  only  in  the  domain  of  human  activ- 
ities. In  this  sense  the  life  of  a  person  has  meaning  if  it  enriches 
the  lives  of  other  people  materially,  intellectually  and  (or) 
morally." 

Loretta  Young 

also  wrote  her  answ^er  as  if  it  were  addressed  directly  to  a  little  girl:  "You 
were  born  to  know,  to  love  and  to  serve  God,  in  this  world.  And  to  be  happy 
with  Him.  forever,  in  the  next.  I  know  this  is  true,  dear,  because  the  Creator 
of  this  world  has  told  us  so;  through  the  teachings  of  His  beloved  Son,  who 
was  born  nineteen  hundred  and  fifty-two  years  ago  for  the  purpose  of  show- 
ing us  by  His  example  — why  all  men  are  born." 


'limn  0'rairfortl 

wrote,  "Personally.  1  am  convinced  that  man  is  | 
born  to  help  others  by  means  of  whatever  special 
talent  he  may  be  blessed  with:  whether  it's  lh< 
husband  who  brings  happiness  to  his  wife  simph 
because  she  loves  him,  or  the  inventor  who  makes  I 
life  easier  for  all,  the  physician  who  makes  it 
healthier,  the  soldier  who  makes  it  safer,  or  the 
entertainer,  the  poet,  the  painter,  the  composer, 
whose  talents  bring  joy  to  all  of  us.  And  certainly  I  feel  that  all  of  us  are 
born  to  learn  that  life  in  itself  is  beautiful.  Men  paint  pictures,  they  com- 
pose music,  they  write  b(X)ks  and  they  lead  their  lives,  but  the  richest  work 
of  art  of  all  is  the  beautiful  life." 

Kzio  I'inza 

gave  us  this  thoughtful  answer:  "He  who  asks  'Why  was  I  born?'  is  a  faith- 
less man.  As  an  ardent  believer  in  the  word  of  Christ  I  consider  birth  the 
Grace  of  God;  therefore,  our  life  here  should  be.  in  every  facet,  nothing  else 
but  the  reflection  of  His  teachings.  In  my  opinion,  this  is  the  only  way  to 
find  heaven  here  and  hereafter." 

Hear  Admiral  Itirhtinl  K.  Uyrd. 

the  famed  Antarctic  explorer,  said.  "  Is  it  not  likely  that  people  are  bom  to 
further  the  design  of  creation?  The  question  then  is.  'What  is  the  design  of 
creation?'  To  help  that  design.  I  think,  the  human  race  cannot  go  forward 
without  liberty.  If  this  be  correct,  then  all  people  everywhere  should  strive 
for  liberty.  If  they  achieve  liberty,  they  w'ill  get  a  chance  to  pursue  happiness 
and  perhaps  will  be  able  to  develop  toward  the  ultimate  goal  of  creation." 

hvon  llt'tiiliTHon 

answered.  "You  are  here  to  enrich  the  w'orld.  and  you  impoverish  your- 
self if  you  forget  the  errand." 

i'arloM  I*.  Itontuht. 

ambassador  of  the  Philippines,  wrote  directly  to  a  little  girl  and  said, 
"Though  you  had  nothing  to  do  with  your  being  bom,  your  own  life  is  all  yours 
'  now  that  you  have  it.  Since  life  is  God's  greatest  invention  and  His  greatest 
gift,  we  must  make  the  most  of  it.  Making  the  most  of  it  means  four  things: 

"First,  it  means  worshiping  God  with  all  our  hearts. 

"Second,  it  means  loving  our  parents,  for  it  is  through  them  that  God  has 
given  us  the  gift  of  life. 

"Third,  it  means  loving  our  fellow  men.  for  it  is  with  them  that  we  share 
life's  blessings,  and  as  these  blessings  come  from  God.  we  must  regard  all 
men  of  all  races  and  creeds  as  members  of  one  family,  and  so  live  accordingly. 

"Fourth,  it  means  making  the  most  of  our  individual  gifts,  that  we  may 
become  more  complete  human  beings  and  live  a  fuller  life,  in  the  love  of 
God.  in  service  to  others,  while  remaining  true  to  ourselves." 

John  L.  Lviris, 

the  labor  chieftain,  answered  briefly:  "The  philosophers  and  essa>  - 
ists  of  the  ages  have  attempted  to  answer  the  question  which  you 
ask.  I  doubt  I  could  add  anything  to  their  writings." 


We  found  a  challenge  in  the  variety  of  answers  we  received — hul 
we  found  assurance  in  the  sincerity  and  conviction  with  which  tht  y 
were  written.  In  this  world  as  you  see  it,  how  would  you  answer  tlx 
question.  "Why  was  I  born?" 


Of  course  you  can.. 


Just  start  with  a  wish  and  some  milk.  Add  the  milk 
to  a  package  of  Pillsbury  White  Cake  Mix 
(the  luscious  golden  pineapple  topping  for  each  layer 
is  baked  right  in  the  pan  with  the  cake)  and  you' 
within  minutes  of  a  triumph.  Can  you  do  it  as  easy  as  thai 

Of  course  you  can! 


iiietnes 


ftre  IS 
'Stem 
J  HDL 


Pineapple  Upside-Down  Layer  Cake:  Drain  a  No.  2  can  of 
crushed  pineapple.  Combine  pineapple  with  3^  cup  melted  butter, 
%  cup  brown  sugar,  and  %  cup  pineapple  syrup.  Spread  in  two 
8  or  9-inch  layer  cake  pans.  Pour  Pillsbury  White  Cake  Mix 
batter  over  fruit.  Bake  at  375°  F.  for  25  to  35  min.  Invert  for 
5  min.  Remove  pans;  cool.  Decorate  with  quartered  slices  of 
pineapple.  Serve  as  layer  cake. 


coiDeN  Tdlow 


Cake  MIX     Cake  MIX     cake  MIX 
Milk  is  all  you  add 

No  eggs  to  buy.  No  flavorings  or  extras  of  any  kind  required. 
These  are  complete  mixes.  Finest  ingredients  money  can  buy. 


m  Msburv 


Cake  Mixes 

WHITE., .CHOCOLATE  FUDGE. ..GOLDEN  YELLOW 


In  iii.'ikt'  licr  listen.  'I'haCs  very  liiircl, 
■  wlicn  sill'  wnnls  so  much  to  sink 
uiiliic'ss,  forever.  If  he  can  brinn  her 

,',li  the  nielli,  she  ininlit  luive  a  chance 
w  up.  .  .  .  She's  a  beautiful  child  .  .  . 

■ful."  His  lone  was  penile.  "Do  you 
soineliiinn  to  inaki'  you  sleep,  Miss 
k'u?" 

hink  not,"  she  said.  "I'm  really  sorry. 
'I  know." 

went  out,  walkint;  (|uickly,  softly,  on 
r-soled  shoes, 

.:i.[.,"slie  told  her  father,  and  the  walls 
in  and  oul,  and  the  room  was  lon^  and 
A  and  lonn  a^ain. 
L's,  Mary." 

here  is  (irayone  .  .  .  where  is  Gray- 
'  She  tried  to  sit  up  and  she  tried,  but 
)uld  not. 

rayone  is  at  Spalding's,  sweetheart, 
IK  for  you  to  get  well.  He's  there, 
linji  up  his  velvet  nose,  the  way  he 
the  prettiest  pony  in  the  world.  He's 
inn  at  the  Kate,  sweetheart,  lookini; 
the  road— watching  for  you." 
e  didn't  mean  to,  daddy  .  .  .  the  paper 
across  the  trail.  .  .  .  He  was  afraid, 
me.  1  fell,  daddy.  I  fell,  daddy  .  .  . 

fell  "  The  turning  hurt  her  head, 

he  could  not  stop. 

ie  still,  Mary;  we'll  see  Grayone,  I 

isc.  He  is  all  ri.ght,  and  he  is  there  at 

ling's.  I  give  my  word." 

r  father's  word.  She  knew  that  Grayone 

wailing.  "My  head  hurts;  I  fell.  .  .  . 

about  when  you  were  a  boy,  daddy," 

aid. 

•r  father  was  sitting  in  the  straight- 
2d  chair,  close  beside  her,  and  he  rested 
ist  the  side  of  the  high  bed  for  a  minute, 
/oice  sounded  dim  when  he  began.  "I 
ia  dog,  once;  his  name  was  Brute.  He 
Isome  English  bull  in  him,  and  he  looked 
ious,  but  he  was  the  gentlest  soul  I  ever 
/.  He  hunted  cottontails  with  me, 
gh  it  bored  him  because  he  was  mainly 
ested  in  people,  and  in  rolling  stones 
a  the  hills." 


Till:  LO\4;  .M4;ilT 

((  iilllUllliil  llnllt  I'llH,     1  /; 

"No."  All  there  was  in  the  world  was  lh(! 
room,  and  her  father.  She  was  one  with  the 
r(M)ni,  walcliiiig  from  far  away,  and  lisleninu. 
"About  the  man.  I  waiU  to  hear  alx)Ul  the 
man  and  his  mari',  and  how  we  named  Gray- 
one. I  want  to  hear  atK)iit  the  man." 

"Brule  is  a  better  story  when  you  are 
sick,  Mary.  The  man  and  the  mare  and  the 
lady  are  l(X)  gknimy." 

"The  man.  How  we  named  Grayone." 
The  words  were  high  and  thin  when  she  had 
hoped  they  would  come  out  lirm.  The  tears 
started  rolling  out  of  the  corners  of  Iut  eyes, 
down  to  the  pillow,  and  when  she  turnefl  her 
head  some  more,  her  cheeks  touched  the 
wetness.  "The  man 

"You  see?"  Her  father  smoothed  her  fore- 
head, his  liand  cold.  "Now  how  would  you 
act  if  I  told  you  a  sad  story?" 

She  heard  herself  crying  from  far  away, 
"The  man  "  The  walls  were  in  and  out. 
"Sing  the  song  about  Nancy  I'"airley  and 
then  tell."  Her  hands  picked  at  the  flat- 
stitched  bedspread    she  pushed  it  away. 

Her  father  straightened  the  sheet  and 
folded  it  over  the  top  of  the  cover,  and 
changed  her  pillow.  "  I  will  sing  if  the  tears 
stop,  and  if  you  will  listen."  He  watched  her 
while  she  worked  at  stopping. 

She  looked  at  the  light  globe  over  the 
washbowl  in  the  corner;  the  light  came  and 
went  and  swayed  with  the  room.  She  looked 
through  the  window  at  the  tree  without  its 
leaves,  bones  before  the  moon.  She  was  get- 
ting ready  to  go  out  the  window  to  the  moon 
and  the  tree  when  her  father  started,  so  she 
fk)ated  back  to  his  strength,  and  to  the 
I)leading  in  him;  to  the  song  about  Nancy 
Fairlcy.  Her  father's  voice  was  so  gently 
singing: 

"Oh,  pretty  Nancy  Fairley 
Gone  noiv  the  moimtain  roses  creep 
Pure  as  the  love  that  flow'r'd  rarely 
When  aulioHH  conies,  waken  from  thy  sleep. 

Oh,  dreaming  Nancy  Fairley  

"I  can't  recall,"  her  father  said,  "all  of 
the  next  verse.  Jed  Sloan  sang  it— he  just 


Never  Underestimafe  the  Power  of  a  Woman ! 


sang  it.  never  wrote  it  down."  He  niulied 
under  his  breath.  "iX-ar  (jod  " 

"I  did  my  prayers."  Was  it  a  little  while 
ago,  or  was  it  yesterday,  or  the  day  Ix-fore, 
long  ago  as  the  room?  "The  man;  like  you 
lold  me  when  I  was  little;  ju8t  like  ...  all 
the  words,  the  words  you  tell  me  with  .  .  . 
jusi  like  "  keeping  time  with  the  light 
glolx-  on  its  siring. 

Her  father  made  a  laugh.  "And  now  you 
are  eleven.  Mary.  .  .  .  Once,  when  I  was  a 
l^)y.  my  father  made  a  swing  for  me." 

".Just  like,  just  like        The  man   " 

A  Ixmy  tree,  and  she  would  go  out  the  win- 
dow and  feel  it  rough  and  hard  and  brittle- 
breaking. 

"Mary,  this  is  true."  her  father  said,  the 
way  he  did  when  he  told  alx)ut  the  man. 
"Now  you  listen,  because  this  is  true." 

Her  father's  eyes  were  blue  as  summer 
sky,  high  blue,  and  strong  on  her. 

"This  began  or  perhaps  I  should  say  it 
ended  the  hrsl  year  I  was  judge,  and  three 
years  before  you  came  along  to  comfort  my 
old  age." 

She  smiled  for  ix^liteness  when  he  chuckled. 
That  was  a  joke  they  had.  that  afxjut  being 
the  comfort  of  his  old  age.  She  had  been 
Ixjrn  late  to  be  his  staff  when  he  reached 
infirmity.  She  knew  he  never  would  be  old. 

"I  had  been  holding  court  all  day  and  I 
was  tired.  I  had  yet  to  learn  that  the  parade 
before  the  bench  is  ever  a  sorrowful  one. 
Oh,  there  are  fine  moments.  But  there  is 
always  the  pity.  Mary,  of  the  necessity  for 
patching,  and  the  weight  of  the  burden  of 
concealing  the  flaw  forever." 

This  was  how  they  visited— with  the  long 
words,  long.  .  .  .  Visiting  since  she  was  very 
young,  with  her  father.  "Yes,  a  pity."  She 
was  tired  for  nodding,  but  it  was  how  the 
story  went  ^ her  favorite.  She  knew  the  fit 
of  every  w'ord.  She  had  to  be  still  so  she 
could  hear. 

"No  judge,  no  jury,"  her  father  said, 
"may  ever  forget  the  awfulness  of  the  power 
of  taking  from  a  man  or  woman  the  hours 
and  the  minutes— time.  When  a  human 
being  is  sent  to  the  penitentiary,  or  fined 
heavily,  however  justifiably— th6  life  artery 
of  that  person's  days  on  this  earth  is  severed 
for  a  while,  and  sometimes  irreparably  .  .  . 
the  life  artery  of  living  to  good  purpose.  The 
ciuestion  of  justice  has  to  do  with  the  pro- 
tection of  society,  with  fair  punishment,  and 
with  mercy,  and  more  — with  a  solution." 

She  heard  him;  yes,  she  heard  him.  A 
lullaby,  the  love  in  his  voice. 

"Furthermore"— her  father  was  stern  — 
"remember  that  appearance  in  court  and 
action  against  a  man  does  not  constitute 
guilt.  Not  at  all.  In  our  country  a  man  is 
innocent  until  he  is  proven  guilty.  There  is 
beauty  in  that  thought,  Mary." 

He  always  said  that,  right  here,  her  father. 
The  Judge.  The  moon  was  almost  gone  from 
the  window  scjuare  of  the  sky.  Wait,  old 
moon;  wait,  old  tree  ...  a  little  bit,  for  tne. 

I\o\v,  you  listen,  Mary;  this  is  true.  .  .  . 
On  that  afternoon  I  w'as  tired  and  concerned. 
There  had  been  two  pleas  of  guilty,  and  I  ad- 
journed court  and  went  back  to  my  cham- 
bers to  close  my  eyes  to  consider,  and  to  pray 
that  the  sentences  I  would  hand  dowm  would 
be  just  for  society,  and  for  the  accused," 

"Then  the  man  came." 

"Yes.  I  convened  court,  presently,  and 
the  next  case  was  brought.  The  defendant 
had  come  into  court;  with  him  was  the  at- 
torney I  had  appointed  earlier  in  the  week 
when  he  said  he  had  no  funds.  The  defendant 
sat  down,  quite  at  ease,  and  talked  to  his 
lawyer,  and  laughed  a  little.  The  charge 
against  him  was  a  serious  one.  and  I  remem- 
ber thinking  he  was  wholly  innocent,  or  he 
did  not  care  as  to  the  outcome.  Such  an 
attitude  is  not  common." 

"The  dignity  of  the  court  is  real."  she 
said,  her  voice  drifting  about  the  room; 
thistledown.  "There  must  be  a  reaching 
down  and  a  finding  of  the  truth."  Her  father 
had  told  her. 

(Cn>iliiuicd  on  Page.  109) 


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YOUR  REMINDER  LINE 

THE  LUX  CLOCK  MANUFACTURING  CO.,  INC.  •  WATERBURy,  CONNECTICUT 


MARLOWE 


I,    A  I) 


II    I)    M  I 


\  I, 


I  ()<> 


(Conlinufd  from  Page  107} 
"The  prosccuti^^^  allorney  was  a  Kood 
man,  ambitious  and  honest,  qiiiek;  hut  lim- 
ited by  a  singular  lack  of  imaKinalioii.  lie 
said  tiiat  Lullier  MorKan  had  oblained, 
Ihiounh  fraud,  a  reaper  from  tlie  ranch  of 
I'Yank  S|)aldinK,  and  had  soltl  the  reaper  and 
had  kei)t  (lie  money.  He  slaled  that  I.utlier 
Morgan  had  |)ersua(k'd  younK  Rol)ert  Si)al- 
dinti  to  aid  him  by  hoi(hnu  out  the  i)romise 
of  hi^h  Hfe  and  easy  living." 

"(irayone  is  at  younn  Spalding's." 
"Crayone  is  wailing  for  you  there.  .  .  . 
Well,  Mary,"  her  father  went  on,  "you 
know  how  it  is  here  in  Idalio;  we're  ac- 
([uainted  willi  everybody  for  miles  arounrl." 

Siie  i)icked  at  the  sjiread,  and  puslied  ii 
down,  but  only  a  little  way.  "1  luiow  " 

"The  jurors  had  passed  the  time  of  day 
with  younu  Hob  Spalding  on  the  street,  and 
they  realized  he  was  not  full  molded,  at 
ei^'hteen,  and  they  had  seen  Frank  Spaldinn, 
I  he  old  one,  stiueeze  a  nickel  until  it  sounded 
Ihe  war  cry,  ri^ht  there  in  his  leather  !)ursc 
with  the  snai)  top."  Iler  father  took  her 
hand  and  felt  in  liis  pocket,  and  he  ^of  a 
nickel  and  folded  her  lingers  around  it. 
"Now  you  hold  it  tight,  right  up  here  by 
>our  ear,  and  see  if  you  hear  the  war  cry." 

She  tried,  and  she  couldn't.  Only  a  buzz- 
inn  -  bees  on  a  summer  day.  She  floated  to- 
ward the  window. 

Her  father  whispered,  then.  "I  looked  at 
Luther  Morgan.  Although  he  was  a  stranger 
in  our  community,  I  knew  I  had  seen  him 
before.  Someplace." 

"Where?"  She  knew,  but  she  must  ask. 
"I  didn't  know.  Something  about  him, 
like  nobody  else  but  him- 
self. Why,  Mary,  I  think  ■■■■■ 
I  was  elected  to  the  bench, 
first,  because  I  remem- 
bered that  each  person  was 
himself,  not  like  any  other 
person,  and  people  knew 
how  I  felt.  It's  selfish  not 
to  remember." 

"The  nurses"  — her 
breath  caught—"!  can't 
separate  them." 

"Oh,  you  will,  tomor- 
row," her  father  said.  "Well  .  .  .  Luther 
Morgan's  attorney  said  his  client  was  not 
guilty,  that  young  Bob  Spalding  had  forged 
the  signature.  Young  Bob  was  in  the  court- 
room, and  I  saw  him  slide  down  in  the  seat 
and  look  at  the  floor,  his  hair  falling  over 
his  forehead,  and  when  he  brushed  it  back 
his  wrists  were  thin  with  growing  fast.  You 
can  see  a  good  deal,  from  up  high— the  way 
a  judge  is  placed.  Then  I  leaned  forward  so 
Luther  Morgan  was  fully  in  my  view,  search- 
ing my  memory  the  while.  It  was  clear  that 
he  had  been  a  big  man,  big;  now  the  years, 
and  sickness,  I  thought,  had  shrunk  him. 
His  coat  was  loose  on  his  shoulders,  the 
padding  making  the  looseness  show,  like  a 
halter  on  an  old  horse." 

"Comfort,"  she  murmured  to  her  father. 
"Your  stafY."  The  moon  had  entirely  crossed 
the  window-sky  square,  but  the  bones  of  the 
tree  were  there,  beckoning. 

Her  father  looked  surprised,  and  glanced 
down  at  his  vest  where  it  wrinkled  on  his 
stomach.  "I  suppose  he  was  in  his  late  six- 
ties, then — fourteen  years  ago.  His  suit  was 
too  big,  Mary,  and  did  I  say  it  was  gray? 
He  didn't  look  to  be  without  funds.  His  ap- 
pearance was,  no  doubt,  a  part  of  his  stock 
in  trade." 

The  light  globe  swelled  into  a  moon.  "  Im- 
portant to  his  business." 

"Just  that.  .  .  .  But  the  most  vital  part  of 
him  were  his  eyes— the  coolest,  levelest, 
most  thoughtful  gray  eyes  in  the  world.  The 
kind  that  belong  to  men  with  great  integrity, 
and  once  in  a  while  to  men  with  none  at  all. 
At  least,  I  used  to  believe  that  some  men 
had  none  at  all.  I  find  it  difficult,  now,  to  be 
so  sure.  .  .  .  Luther  Morgan  stared  back  at 
me,  calmly." 

"The  meeting  of  the  Blue  and  the  Gray." 
She  was  supposed  to  say  it,  but  her  giggle 
sounded  silly  in  her  ears,  and  too  loud.  "Like 
Grandpa  Scott  and  Grandpa  Bradley." 

Her  father  smiled,  as  if  he  had  expected 
her  answer,  and  as  if  it  had  given  him  pleas- 


The  little  girl  expects  no 
declaration  of  tenderness 
from  her  doll.  She  loves  it, 
and  that's  all.  It  is  thus  that 
we  should  love. 


DE  GOURMONT 

Fortune  Magazine 


ure.  "Anyway,  after  the  opening  statements 
hafi  been  made  by  the  proseculion  and  the 
dclcnsc,  I  adjourned  court  for  the  day,  and  I 
went  iiome.  I  wanted  to  think  at)<)ut  Luther 
Morgan,  by  myself." 

She  put  her  hand  iindci  her  inllow,  fccliii).; 
the  solid  of  the  mattress,  and  the  nxjm  grew 
short.  '"I'hal  was  before  you  married  my 
mother,  and  before  I  was  Ixnn,  .iiid  ix  foic 
my  moliier  died." 

"  It  was." 

IliVivN  if  the  mattress  was  steady,  like  the 
raft  in  the  pond  it  might  tip  and  spill  her 
into  the  dee])  of  the  room.  "Sing  the  song 
about  Nancy  Fairley." 

He  hummed  the  song,  and  smoothed  her 
hair  out  of  her  eyes,  and  went  over  and  got 
a  glass  of  water  from  the  faucet.  She  si)iilc(l 
some,  drinking. 

Iler  father  said,  "I'll  call  the  nurse." 

"No.  No.  No.  I'll  go  out  the  window, 
out  and  out  and  out.  I'll  go  out  and  out  " 

" Now,  Mary.  Dear  (k)d,  please  Now, 

Mary  " 

Her  father  got  a  fresh  nightie  from  tiie 
suitcase  under  the  bed,  and  he  put  her  in  the 
nightie.  It  was  more  cool,  and  she  closed  her 
eyes,  but  the  falling  started,  and  she  opened 
them,  afraid  with  the  distance  and  the  spin- 
ning air. 

Her  father  rubbed  her  wrists,  and  he  spoke 
softly.  "Once  I  owned  a  coll,  the  nicest  colt; 

oh,  how  I  loved  my  colt.  One  day  " 

"No,  no.  The  story,  daddy.  How  we 
named  Gray  one." 

"Mary  my  love,  my  child,  my  love."  Her 
father  folded  the  sheet  down,  and  he  put  his 
head  against  the  side  of  the 
■  ■■■■I     bed,  in  his  hands. 

"The  gray  man  .  .  .  you 
thought?" 

"I  did  think,  but  it 
didn't  come  to  me— it  was 
there,  somewhere,  but  it 
wouldn't  come.  I  was  dis- 
turbed because  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  knew  some 
kind  of  an  answer,  if  I 
could  add  it  up  right.  When 
I  went  to  bed,  I  could 
not  sleep  for  dreaming.  The  next  day  in 
court,  Luther  Morgan  seemed  as  weary 
as  I  felt,  and  I  wondered  if  he  had  tried  to 
find  the  common  denominator.  His  eyes 
were  not  quite  the  eyes  of  a  man  who  has 
searched,  although  you  never  know.  The 
attorney  for  the  defense  had  believed  what 
he  said,  the  day  before— that  Luther  Morgan 
was  not  guilty.  I  thought  then,  and  I  think 
now,  that  belief  is  essential  to  a  case." 

"But  all  men  must  be  defended  .  .  .  must 
have  their  day."  Did  that  go  in  there,  or  was 
it  later?  The  tree  outside  the  window  waved 
and  she  lifted  her  hand  in  return. 

Her  father  was  noticing  about  the  window 
and  the  tree. 

"Luther  Morgan  went  on  the  stand,  and 
his  attorney  asked  him  questions,  showing 
how  he  had  been  a  man  of  honor,  a  man  of 
respectability,  a  man  who  had  held  a  posi- 
tion of  trust  in  the  Government. 

" '  What  was  that  position? '  I  asked,  when 
it  became  apparent  Mr.  Morgan  was  not 
going  to  be  specific. 

"'I  was  a  United  States  revenue  agent,' 
Luther  Morgan  answered,  and  his  voice  was 
proud. 

"'Where?'  I  had  to  know  this. 

"'In  Kentucky,  in  Tennessee  ' 

"The  conversation  was  just  between  us, 
and  it  was  puzzling  to  him.  '  In  Missouri? '  I 
asked.  'Were  you  ever  in  Thaxton,  Mis- 
souri ? ' 

"'Yes.' 

"As  he  looked  up  at  me,  my  mind  glim- 
mered—nearer. 

"'Yes,'  he  said,  very,  very  slowly.  'Do 
you  know  that  vicinity,  sir?' 

"'I  do.'" 

When  she  thought  about  the  man,  the 
light  globe  got  firm,  and  she  did  not  feel 
much  like  floating.  "Go  on,"  she  told  her 
father.  "The  questions." 

"The  questioning  continued  for  a  while, 
but  the  attorney  for  Luther  Morgan  was 
worried;  I  don't  believe  he  knew  why — the 
sixth  sense  a  good  lawyer  possesses  warned 


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Whyhesifate? 


V 


A  doctor  invented 
Tampax  to  help  women! 

Before  Tampax  was  invented,  most 
women  never  imagined  there  might  be  a 
way  of  avoiding  chafing,  irritation,  odor 
and  many  other  annoying  discomforts  of 
"that  time  of  the  month."  They  never 
reahzed  there  might  be  an  internal  kind 
of  sanitary  protection  which  would  do 
away  with  bulky  exterior  pads. 

But  doctors  were  wiser.  They  knew 
the  principle  of  internal  absorption  was 
perfectly  sound.  And  one  of  them  de- 
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all  women.  He  invented  Tampax. 

Today,  with  millions  of 
women  using  Tampax,  why 
should  you  fail  to  share  in  its 
benefits.^  Why  should  you  be 
the  one  to  suffer  the  discom- 
forts of  external  methods  when  Tampax 
is  so  comfortable  you  can't  even  feel  it, 
once  it's  in  place?  Why  should  you  have 
disposal  problems  when  Tampax  is  an 
easy-to-dispose-of  cylinder  of  pure  white, 
surgical  cotton .'' 

Get  Tampax  this  month.  It's  sold  at 
drug  and  notion  counters  in  3  absorb- 
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supply  fits  in  purse.  Look  for  Tampax 
Vender  in  restrooms  throughout  the 
United  States.  Tampax  Incorporated, 
Palmer,  Mass. 


1 

Accepted  for  Advertising 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 

TAMPAX  INCORPORATED  LHJ-S3-J 
Palmer,  Mass. 

Please  send  me  in  plain  wrapper  a  trial  package  of 
Tampax.  I  enclose  10c  (stamps  or  silver)  to  cover  cost 
of  mailing.  Size  is  checked  below. 

(     )  REGULAR  (    )  SUPER  (    )  JUNIOR 

Name  

Address  

City  State  


him.  I  suppose.  He  leafed  through  some 
papers,  and  said  he  would  like  to  introduce 
some  further  evidence,  and  moved  for  ad- 
journment. I  acceded.  It  was  late. 

'"That  night  it  came  back  to  me,  and  as 
it  did  I  wondered  if  Luther  Morgan  would 
remember  too.  Had  he  ever  forgotten? 

"Now,  you  listen,  Mary." 

She  loved  it  so,  the  story,  and  hearing 
about  her  father  when  he  was  a  boy.  She 
was  listening. 

"Keep  in  mind  that  this  next  part  hap- 
pened over  fifty  years  ago.  When  I  was  grow- 
ing up,  in  the  Ozarks,  we  were  poor.  We  were 
poor,  Mary — but  not  without  hope  or  pride 
or  willingness.  Our  land  was  deep-rutted  by 
rain  and  wind,  and  we  had  johnnycakes  for 
breakfast,  and  often  enough  for  dinner  and 
supper.  Yet  pa  hauled  the  lumber  for  the 
school  and  was  on  the  school  board.  I  studied 
nights  and  days,  in  moments  snatched.  Next 
to  prayer,  mam  and  pa  believed  in  schooling. 

"But  this  that  happened — it  came  when  I 
was  ten,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recall." 

She  was  eleven,  still;  getting  to  be  twelve 
was  hard — eleven  seemed  to  last  a  long  time. 
"Younger  than  me." 

"Younger,  yes.  .  .  .  Few  strangers  passed 
our  place ;  there  was  no  call  for  them  to  come 
there.  Twice  a  year  the  peddler  came,  selling 
trinkets  more  precious  than  I  have  seen  to 
this  day.  He  had  jet  earrings  in  the  pack 
on  his  back.  Each  year  I  yearned  to  get  them 
for  mam,  but  I  never  did.  I  can  feel  the  bit- 
terness of  wanting  them  now.  .  .  .  This  par- 
ticular day,  I  remember — it  was  late  in  the 
fall,  and  early  morning,  chilly.  I  heard  a  rig 
coming  along  the  road,  and  pa  heard  it,  and 
he  came  up  from  the  barn.  I  wanted  to  hide 
in  the  shed  as  we  children  did  when  strangers 
passed.  But  it  was  so  splendid,  the  rig.  I 
wanted  to  run,  but  I  could  not." 

"Was  he  a  bad  man,  did  you  think?" 
Bad  like  the  tree — scary  like  the  tree  

"He  seemed  a  picture  from  a  picttire 
book — not  that  I  had  seen  many.  The  rig, 
and  the  high-stepping  mare — so  fine  she 
looked  like  a  saddle  horse.  The  rig  was 
painted  black,  and  the  wheels  were  red,  and 
there  was  red  cording  around  the  lay-back 
top.  The  mare  was  gray — the  way  some  good 
mares  are." 

"Gray  .  .  .  like  Grayone." 

"Yes,  like  Grayone. . . .  The  man  matched 
the  mare;  his  suit,  his  eyes,  his  hair — all  gray. 
He  was  in  his  early  thirties,  I  think  now,  but 
his  hair  was  turning.  Oh,  he  was  a  brave- 
looking  man  and  his  face  was  made  for  laugh- 
ing. He  sat  at  ease  in  the  rig,  the  reins  loose 
but  firm — he  knew  horses.  When  he  spoke, 
his  voice  was  full;  different  from  ours; 
smooth  as  peeled  elm:  soft  the  way  it  is, 
too — not  really  soft,  but  seeming  so.  .  .  . 
Remember  the  elm  whistle  I  made  for  you, 
Mary?" 

"The  bark  slipped  off.  The  tree  by  the 
window — is  it  an  elm?" 

"No,  Mary— poplar.  Would  you  like  a 
drink  of  water?" 

"Not  now,  not  now.  I  want  the  story, 
now." 

Her  father  cooled  her  head  with  his  hand. 
"I  couldn't  hear  what  he  said,  I  was  listen- 
ing so  Lo  the  voice.  He  held  up  a  big  book 
for  pa  to  see.  It  didn't  seem  to  me  he  tried 
very  hard  to  get  pa  interested.  Pa  asked  him 
to  come  in  and  sit,  and  he  said  thanks  a 
mighty,  but  he  had  a  long  way  to  go.  He 
was  working  through  the  hills,  selling  the 
books.  Then  he  clucked,  and  shook  the 
reins,  and  the  mare  stepped  out." 

"Who  was  he?"  She  knew. 

"That's  what  I  asked  pa,  and  pa  said, 
'Weren't  you  hearin',  son?  He's  boardin'  at 
the  Fairleys';  he's  sellin'  doctor  books.  He's 
goin'  through  the  hills,  sel'in'  doctor  books.' 
And  then  pa  went  to  tell  mam.  I  went  in,  and 
Sister  Leah  was  there,  and  Arnie,  and  Joel, 
and  Scott.  'A  han'some  rig,'  mam  said — she 
who  knew  han'some  rigs,  her  family  coming 
up  from  Virginia  after  the  Struggle." 

"You  talk  funny  when  you  tell  about 
being  a  boy."  Her  father  forgot  about  "ing," 
and  he  said  ' '  dollah, ' '  and  ' '  mam, ' '  and  "  air  " 
for  "are." 

She  reached  for  her  father's  hand.  The 
mom  had  quieted  down — waiting,. 


Her  father  chuckled.  "I  suppose  I  do. 
Then,  Mary,  pa  said,  'A  han'some  man;  no 
time  to  sit.  A  right  han'some  man — boardin' 
at  the  Fairleys'.' 

"'At  the  Fairleys'?'  Mam's  voice  was 
high-pitched. '  Likely  he'll  take  Nancy's  eye.' 

"'Likely.'  Pa  shook  his  head,  then  he 
looked  at  us  mice  in  the  corner.  'If  you're 
late  to  the  school,  I'll  tan  you  every  one.' 

"We  knew  he  meant  it,  even  for  Sister 
Leah,  and  we  skedaddled  out  and  across  the 
daisy-bell  hill,  and  to  the  schoolhouse.  I  for- 
got to  put  on  my  shoes  outside  the  door, 
thinking  of  the  man  and  the  rig,  and  Joel 
sent  a  note  from  the  big  boys'  side,  telling 
he'd  whop  me  for  being  no-count. 

"My  pa  was  a  proud  man,  and  a  fair  man; 
next  to  prayer  came  schooling,  and  next  to 
schooling  came  holding  your  head  up,  not 
with  being  a  braggart,  but  with  knowing 
inside  that  you  mattered.  That  is  how  we 
were  raised,  Mary. 

"And  pa  Relieved  in  democracy  in  the 
land,  but  he  did  not  hold  with  young'uns 
or  kin  speaking  up  when  he  and  mam  were  in 
meeting,  which  they  were — at  supper  every 
night,  talking  between  themselves." 

Her  father  thought  a  little.  "I  try  net  to 
be  too  much  like  pa,  impatient  with  the  un- 


Ilie  Yearglass 

ttti  3iuii  WilliuntH  WartI 


Its  root  ball  equals  the  ball  of  its 
crown 

And  through  this  hourglass  shape 

of  the  tree 
Not  sand  but  sap  pours  up  and 

down 

Self-reversing  miraculously 
But  without  hurry.  Not  hour  by 
hour 

But  season  by  season  the  fall,  the 
climb. 

In  slow-motion  tempo,  in  six- 
month  rhythm, 

A  tree  is  a  yearglass  measuring 
time. 


knowing.  You  see,  we  children  could  have 
told  him  some  things.  Maybe  he  didn't  want 
to  know— he  had  no  use  for  idle  talk.  But 
we  could  have  told  him  that  Nancy  Fairley 
and  the  boarder  met  in  Waine's  woodlot. 
We  could  have  told  him  we  had  seen,  one 
day  coming  home  from  school,  Nancy  Fair- 
ley's  head  on  the  boarder's  shoulder,  her 
gold  hair  so  bright  and  burning  it  looked  like 
tiger  lilies.  But  pa  never  asked  us." 

Her  father  held  her  hand  tightly.  "Nancy 
Fairley  was  as  lovely  as  her  name.  Her  hair 
was  the  color  of  yellow-cut  oak;  her  eyes  were 
as  purple  as  the  bachelor  buttons  in  mam's 
garden  spot.  She  was  shy,  and  she  looked 
beside  you,  not  at  you — as  if  she  wanted  to 
see  the  reflection  of  you ;  the  best  that  lived 
someplace  away  from  your  faults.  She  stood 
straight  and  withdrawn  and  she  moved  like 
a  swallow  in  flight  with  never  a  false  motion, 
or  a  needless  one,  but  swiftly.  Her  beauty 
was  pure  English,  and  how  she  came  to  be 
born  to  the  rough-rock  Fairleys  was  a  mys- 
tery you  might  solve  by  tracing  back  to  the 
days  of  Good  Queen  Bess  in  England — 
Nancy  was  that  far  away  from  them." 

"Did  you  like  Nancy  Fairley?" 

"I  loved  her;  everyone  did.  I  was  a  little 
boy,  but  I  thought  I  would  make  my  fortune 
in  the  world,  one  day,  and  go  back  and 
claim  her  from  her  brothers.  Nancy  was  well 
into  the  marrying  age,  and  a  good  many  had 
ridden  to  the  Fairleys',  asking  for  her,  but 
never  one  that  suited  the  brothers  grown. 
Sharp-featured  men,  they  were,  dark  with 
brooding  over  the  land,  and  living  on  it." 

"But  they  let  the  boarder  stay  there?" 


"He  had  brought  a  scratch — a  note — 
from  a  man  in  Springfield  they  owed  on 
honor,  and  so  he  stayed  at  the  Fairleys'. 
Mostly  he  was  gone  days,  maybe  overnight- 
maybe  longer,  selling  the  doctor  books.  But 
some  afternoons  we  saw  them— we  chil- 
dren—at Waine's,  on  the  way  home  from 
school. 

"Then  the  frost  painted  the  leaves  bright 
red  and  orange  and  the  nights  turned  cold. 
This  one  night,  the  wind  had  come  up  and 
kept  on  until  it  tore  at  the  roof  shakes,  frow- 
split,  and  whistled  through  the  walls  and 
bent  the  willows  double  and,  on  the  hilltops, 
we  could  see  the  trees  against  the  sky — lash- 
ing at  a  storm  that  carried  no  water  drops, 
but  roared  with  rage.  When  it  was  bedtime, 
mam  went  to  the  great  box  that  had  come 
over  from  England,  and  up  from  Virginia, 
and  got  out  more  quilts  and  some  wool 
pieces,  and  we  wrapped  the  pieces  over  our 
underwear,  the  way  we  did  when  it  was 
winter." 

Oidn't  you  undress?"  She  made  her 
voice  shocked,  although  she  was  not,  being 
used  to  hearing  this. 

The  judge,  her  father,  shook  his  head. 
"Whatever  warmth  we  could  find  we  were 
grateful  for.  And  mam  put  quilt  scraps  at 
the  windows,  to  keep  down  the  drafts.  Sister 
Leah  was  looking  through  the  slits  at  the 
wildness,  and  she  said,  'Pa!  Pa!  Someone's 
comin'!'" 

She  almost  wished  she  had  not  asked  for 
the  story  of  the  man,  though  it  quieted  the 
room,  and  the  tree. 

"We  ran  and  saw  the  rig  and  the  mare  on 
the  hill-crested  road — driven  to  a  frenzy  by 
the  v^nd  and  the  reins.  The  driver  was 
crouching.  The  rig  careened  along  the  road. 
We  crowded  at  the  window,  unable  to  budge. 

"I  remember  mam's  lips  moving  with 
prayer,  and  pa  going  to  the  fireplace,  mut- 
tering. We  had  started  chattering,  we  young 
'uns,  but  we  stopped  when  we  heard  the 
knocking  at  the  door,  loud — even  above  the 
storm. 

"Pa  got  his  gun  from  the  wall,  and  he  said 
to  us,  'Get  up  there.' 

"The  knocking  was  a  thunderous  sound 
over  the  wind. 

"Pa  waited,  looking  at  us,  until  we  had 
climbed  up  and  pulled  the  folding  staircase 
after  us.  We  scooted  to  our  knotholes  in  the 
floor  that  had  been  useful  many  times. 

"I  was  the  youngest,  so  I  had  the  poorest 
place,  but  I  saw  mam  put  her  hand  to  her 
mouth  as  I  listened  to  pa  undoing  the  latch. 
I  heard  heavy  footsteps,  slow,  and  presently 
the  Gray  Man  was  in  my  view.  My  heart 
cracked,  for  pale  hair  lay  across  his  arm. 
They  didn't  waste  time  with  speaking— the 
boarder  followed  mam,  carrying  Nancy 
Fairley  into  the  lean-to  bedroom. 

"We  couldn't  hear  so  much  because  mam 
and  pa's  room  was  built  on  but  there  was  a 
sound  like  the  one  Brute,  my  dog,  made  when 
he  got  in  the  trap. 

"We  waited,  scarce  breathing  and  then 
pa  came  out,  and  the  Gray  Man.  The  Gray 
Man  sat  down  on  the  bench  at  the  table,  and 
he  put  his  head  down,  and  we  heard  him 
crying.  It  was  terrible  to  hear,  Mary. 

"In  a  minute  pa  spoke.  'You  did  this.' 

"'The  bullet  was  meant  for  me,'  said  the 
Gray  Man,  and  his  voice  was  raw.  'Her 
brother  Chauce  fired  it.  Not  I.' 

"'I  admire  a  man  who  will  take  his  just 
blame.  Take  it  or  not,  you  will  live  with  it; 
well  enough  you  know— you  are  a  man  with 
tolerable  living  behind  you.  I  thank  my 
Lord  I  do  not  have  to  face  the  years  that 
will  be  yours.'  Pa  spoke  more  slowly.  'Nor 
face  up  to  what  Chauce  has  to.' 

"The  Gray  Man  sat  hunched  up,  not  say- 
ing anything. 

"'Now,'  said  pa,  'you  get.  Doomsday  is 
too  soon  to  lay  eyes  again  on  you.  Come 
back  and  ye'U  be  dead  in  a  day.  Come  back 
and  ye '11  be  as  dead  as  will  Nancy  Fairley 
inside  the  hour.'  Pa  lowered  his  voice  with 
scorn.  'You  never  sold  doctor  books.' 

"  'No.'  The  man  stood  as  if  he  had  half  a 
mind  to  beg. 

"Mam  came  in.  'Fix  to  ride  to  Fairleys', 
James.  They  have  a  right  to  see  her  before.' 
(Contiyiiied  on  Page  112) 


I.   A    I)    I    K    S  •       II    (I    \|    i;       I    o    I     |(    N    \  I. 

Thrilling  Beauty  News        meyid       Liquid  Shampoos! 


LUSTRE-CREME  is  the 
favorite  beauty  shampoo  of 
4  out  of  5  top  Hollywood  stars, 
and  you'll  love  it  in 
its  new  Lotion  Form,  too! 


starring  in 

"THE  FARMER  TAKES  A  WIFE" 

A  20th  Century-Fox  Production 
Color  by  Technicolor 


BETTY  GRABLE  says,  "Yes,  I  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo."  When  America's  most  glamorous  women  use  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo,  shouldn't  it  he  your  choice  above  all  others,  too? 

KlovJ !  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo 
glLdcr  ut  New  Lotion  Form  ! 

N(es\  y^"''  Oboice:  ^ 

^a^ous  Cream  R)rm...or  new  btion  fij,^ 


?*JEVER  BEFORE— a  liquid 
shampoo  like  this!  Lustre-Creme 
Shampoo  in  new  Lotion  Form  is 
much  more  than  just  another  sham- 
poo that  pours.  It's  a  new  creamy 
lotion,  a  fragrant,  satiny,  easier- 
to-use  lotion,  that  brings  Lustre- 
Creme  glamour  to  your  hair  with 
every  heavenly  shampoo! 


VOTED  "BEST  "  IN  DRAMATIC  USE-TESTS! 

Lustre-Creme  Shampoo  in  new  * 

Lotion  Form  was  tested  against  4  ><• 

leading  liquid  and  lotion  shampoos  * 

...  all  unlabeled.  And  3  out  of  * 

every  5  women  preferred  Lustre-Creme  + 

in  new  Lotion  Form  over  each  ic 

competing  shampoo  tested — for  5f 
these  important  reasons: 


Lather  foams  more  quickly! 
Easier  to  rinse  away! 
Cleans  hair  and  scalp  better! 
Leaves  hair  more  shining! 
Does  not  dry  or  dull  the  hair! 
Leaves  hair  easier  to  manage! 
Hair  has  better  fragrance ! 
More  economical  to  use! 


LOTION 

shampoO 


Famous  Cream  Form  in 
jars  or  tubes,  27c  to  SL 
{Big  economy  size,  $2.) 


New  Lotion  F(  

bottles,  30c  to  SL 


iiidy 


Lustre-Creme  in  new  Lotion  Form  is  the  best  liquid  shampoo  yet! 


POUR  IT  ON— OR  CREAM  IT  ON!  In  famous  Cream  Form, 
Liistr<--Crcme  is  America  s  favorite  cream  shampoo.  .\nd  all  its 
.  beauty-bringing  qualities  are  in  the  ne>v  Lotion  Form.  Which- 
ever form  jo«  prefer,  lanolin-blessed  Lustre-Creme  will  leave 
your  hair  shining  clean,  eager  to  wave,  never  dull  or  dry. 


112 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  m:^ 


Very  much  on  the  surface: 
Ship'n  Shore's  new 
texture  story — open-work  blocks 

and  satin-cord  squares. 
What  you  don't  see  at  a  glance 
their  long  and  washable 

life-time!  2 9^ 


Combed  woven  ginghams— 
the  open-work  block,  30  to  38  . 
the  satin-cord  square,  30  to  40  . . . 
each,  $2.98 
Styles  for  the  7-to-14's, 
from  $1.98 


r  •  -fir  ^'fc 


Ship'n  Shore 


® 


B  LOUSES 


They  talk  of  professional 
women.  Personally,  I  have 
never  met  an  amateur. 

—WINSTON  CHURCHILL 


(Continued  from  Page  110) 

"Pa  took  his  coat  from  the  hook  on  the 
door.  He  turned  back  to  the  Gray  Man. 
'Get.  I  don't  want  more  killin'.' 

"The  man  went  toward  the  bedroom,  and 
mam  stepped  in  front  of  him.  There  was  a 
kindness  in  her  tone,  and  the  courtesy  of  her 
home  in  Virginia,  and  steel  too. 

"Well,  the  next  day  " 

"No,  that  is  not  the  way  it  goes.  You  left 
it  out— the  part  that  grandmother  said.  I 
want  to  hear."  Her  father  must  say  it  be- 
cause that  part  was  so  pretty  with  the  sadness. 

Her  father,  the  judge,  put  his  head  down, 
so  he  could  think  and  get  it  just  right.  He 
thought,  and  she  squeezed  his  fingers  to 
show  she  was  waiting,  but  not  to  be  bothered 
because  there  was  time  for  waiting. 

When  her  father  spoke  he  sounded  sore- 
throat.  "My  mam  said,  'We  take  care  of 
our  own,  and  she  is  one  of  us.  You  had  best 
go,  and  keeo  the  memory  of  her  lying  in  the 
hills  she  loved  —she'll  sleep 
well.  There  are  those  to 
keep  her  company  in  our 
burying  place  —our  little 
Matthew, and  Lettie  Scott, 
and  her  own  sweet  mam  — 
they  will  make  the  loneli- 
ness less.  The  good  Lord 
will  send  the  raindrops  to 
kiss  her,  and  there  will  be 
the  snow  blanket  in  the 
winter,  and  the  new  green  of  the  spring, 
and  the  drowse  of  the  summer  and  the  sharp 
of  the  fall.  She'll  hear  the  mountain  songs, 
and  she'll  walk  with  the  others  in  the  glade 
at  sundown.  This  is  her  place.'  Mam's  words 
that  came  then  rang  with  the  steel;  'You 
have  no  place— none.' 

"The  Gray  Man  went  to  the  door,  and 
into  the  night.  Pa  kissed  mam  full  on  the 
lips,  which  he  did  but  rarely  when  he  knew 
we  were  watching,  and  he  went  then  to  the 
Fairleys'." 

Her  father  was  seeing  his  mam  and  his  pa, 
seeing  it  all,  she  knew.  But  he  was  so 
slow.  .  .  .  She  prompted,  "Then  this  hap- 
pened  "  She  would  help  him,  but  he  did 

not  hear.  She  tightened  her  hand.  "Then 
this  happened  " 

"Then  this  happened  the  first  year  I  be- 
came Judge  of  the  Superior  Court.  When 
court  was  convened  the  next  morning,  the 
attorney  for  the  defense  said  that  his  client 
wished  to  change  his  plea.  Luther  Morgan 
had  admitted  his  guilt.  The  attorney  said  he 
did  not  fully  understand  this,  and  was  frank 
to  say  so,  and  he  sat  down  reluctantly. 

"I  asked  Mr.  Morgan  to  step  over  to  the 
bench,  and  I  said,  'Have  you  considered 
carefully  the  consequences  of  this  action?' 

"'Your  Honor,  I  have,'  he  replied. 

"I  was  uneasy.  'Mr.  Morgan,  the  offense 
carries  with  it  a  penitentiary  sentence.  You 
must  not  jeopardize  your  own  rights  to 
shield  someone  else.' 

"Luther  Morgan  looked  at  me  with  calm, 
thoughtful  eyes,  and  I  saw  old  pain,  new' 


pain,  constant  pain  in  them.  'I  am  solely 
responsible,'  he  said,  'for  the  loss  of  Frank 
Spalding's  money.  Your  Honor,'  he  went  on, 
'  I  have  not  been  proud  for  many  years,  and 
the  shabbiness  has  grown  in  my  soul  with 
each  shabby  act  in  the  .  . .  intervening  years. 
I  could  have  been  a  different  kind  of  man.' 

'"In  this  court,  on  this  day,'  I  told  h.\m,i 
'we  are  concerned  only  with  the  crime  oq 
which  you  are  now  accused.' 
"  'I  am  guilty.' 
"I  could  not  let  it  rest.  I  leaned  over  toj 
look  at  him,  and  my  chest  hurt  against  the 
bench,  as  if  I  were  still  holding  my  boyhoodj 

shoes,  tightly.  'You  must  consider  ' 

'"Judge  John  Bradley,  Your  Honor  ...  I 
have  had  the  haunted  hours  of  many  nights 
in  which  to  consider.  I  am  tired,  and  /  have 
no  place  to  go.' " 

Her  father  was  silent,  and  then  he  got  up 
and  walked  to  the  window.  He  did  not  say 
anything,  so  she  had  to.  "You  didn't  tell 
how  he  talked  to  young 
Bob  Spalding,  alone.  You 
didn't  tell  how  he  died  in 
prison— the  Gray  Man." 

"You  know  all  that," 
her  father  said. 

"And  young  Bob  Spal- 
ding?" She  wanted  the 
ending,  now. 

"Why,  he  isn't  young 
Bob  any  more,"  he  said, 
"and  we  keep  your  pony  at  his  ranch." 

"  I  wanted  a  pony  so  bad  and  you  got  him. 
We  named  him  after  the  mare  in  the  story, 
and  maybe  after  the  Gray  Man  too." 

"Because  he  paid  a  debt  as  best  he  could." 
Her  father  nodded,  his  back  to  her.  His 
whisper  was  louder  than  he  knew — "And 
paid  it  further  with  this  night."  He  turned 
from  the  window,  his  voice  sounding  glad. 
"It's  getting  light.  The  sun  is  beginning  to 
lace  the  sky  with  yellow  ribbons." 

She  said  "The  room  stopped;  the  moon 
went  away.  Will  you  come  and  hold  my  hand 
some  more?"  The  walls  were  staying  in  the 
same  place,  and  the  tree  was  just  an  old 
poplar,  and  not  ready  to  bud.  and  she  was 
safe.  Her  eyes  were  scratchy  when  she  closed 
them. 

The  night  supervisor  was  tired  and  snap- 
pish, going  off  duty,  when  she  saw  Virginia 
Marsden,  dressed,  coming  down  the  hall. 

"You  can't  leave  until  your  doctor  checks 
with  us." 

"I  understand  that,  but  I  wanted  to  find 
out.  .  .  .  The  little  girl  m  One-twenty-eight; 
is  she  all  right?" 

The  supervisor's  expression  softened.  "I 
think  she  will  be.  I  think  so." 

"She  listened  to  her  father,  then,"  Miss 
Marsden  said. 

The  supervisor  glanced  at  her  oddly.  "I 
suppose  we  all  did,  in  a  way." 

"But  the  child  was  listening  to  love." 
Slowly,  Miss  Marsden  walked  back  to  her 
room. 


OUR  READERS  WRITE  US 

(Continued  from  Page  8) 


Mitchell  Field.  He  works  in  the  same 
building  and  last  Saturday  we  were  both 
promoted.  We've  found  an  apartment  here 
in  Tokyo  and  will  move  in  next  week. 
When  we  go  back  to  the  States,  we'll 
probably  live  in  the  South  because  I  like  it 
where  it's  warm." 

Madeline  Thomas,  first  lieutenant.  Air 
Force  Nurse  Corps  (flight  nurse.  Middle- 
town,  N.  Y.) :  "  I  was  a  senior  in  high  school 
when  I  decided  I  wanted  to  be  a  nurse.  As 
soon  as  I  finished  training  and  got  my 
state-board  registration  card  I  enlisted  — 
in  Nov.,  1950.  I  chose  the  Air  Force  be- 
cause I  wanted  to  lie  a  flight  nurse.  Three 
days  after  I  arrived  at  Tachikawa  Air 
Base  in  Japan  I  had  my  fir.st  check-out 
flight  to  Korea.  As  soon  as  I  landed  some- 
one said  to  me,  'Well,  lieutenant,  you've 
got  just  ten  days  to  live.'  The  Communists 
had  been  broadcasting  that  they  would  be 
in  Seoul  by  May  1  (ten  days  hence)  and 
would  hang  all  the  nur.ses  from  the  Han 
River  bridge.  \Vc  used  to  have  a  joke  about 
going  down  to  the  bridge  to  practice  div- 
ing. What's  the  hardest  part  of  my  job? 


Getting  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  I 
guess.  The  planes  leave  here  in  the  night 
so  when  we  get  to  Korea  we  can  load  pa- 
tients in  the  early  morning.  In  two  months 
I'll  finish  750  flight  hours  and  go  back  to 
the  States.  I  don't  know  where  I'll  be  sent 
next." 

*      *  * 

Of  course  there  are  a  few  who  think  the 
girls  shouldn't  be  here.  A  WAF  lieutenant, 
an  intelligence  officer  at  Clark  Air  Base  in 
the  Philippines,  told  me.  "  In  14  months  of 
duty  only  one  officer  has  said  to  me  that  if 
he  had  a  sister  who  was  threatening  to  en- 
list he'd  hit  her  on  the  head  with  a  ham- 
mer. One  like  that  in  1'4  months  seems  a 
pretty  good  average." 

And  a  Navy  lieutenant  in  Japan  said, 
"  I  hate  to  .see  the  Waves  coming  in  here. 
I'd  rather  have  a  sailor  work  for  me  any 
day  than  a  Wave."  The  Wac  with  us 
asked,  "Have  you  ever  had  a  Wave  work 
for  you?"  The  lieutenant  said,  "No." 

A  Navy  commander  assured  me  that 
the  corpsmen  can  do  all  the  work  on  hos- 
(Continued  on  Page  114) 


I.     \     I)     I     I      ~  II     (I     M     I  I     (I     I      l(     \     V  I 


Don't  just  wish  for  a 

lovelier  complexion 

Have  one  in  10  days  •••or  no  cost! 


Ballinior.',  Md.  "Noxzi  nia 

Mcn.isb.-s,  |-,,st  !•  -  Jean 
Crow,  Uov'i-;l>-i'-.l  Niiw 


Spriiigf icWl,  Pa.  "Nistlit  |"> 
Miiil  MiiiriiiiiK  I  use  Noxzenia  ' 
til  help  kocp  'I'V  skin  siiiciDtli. 
uiiljUMiiislird* !"— Ciiidi  ■\V(ioil 


New  BrunsMick,  N.  J. 

•■It's  a  wondt'i  l  ul  iiifjlit  cream 
^     Helps  niy  skin  look  snmotliei 
fresher."' — Diane  Maeoni 


Huntington,  L.  I.  "It's  so 
refreshinj;  to  iny  dry  skin  — 
helps  it  look  softer  and 
smoother."— Mar jorie  Weir 


Newark,  N.  J.  "I'm  thrilled 

with  Noxzema.  My  hushand 
notieed  the  dilVercnee  iM  my 
vkin."    S\lvia  Ma<-Nedl 


Los  Angeles,  Cal.  "Helps 
my  skin  look  softer,  smoother, 
yet  doesn't  stain  my  pillow. 
■   Anno  Drake 


Mt.  Vernon.  N. Y .  "  'Cream- 
wasliinic'  with  Noxzem.i  helps 
mv  skin  look  smoolluT, 

in--.!!.  T.  "    N'ivian  l'';inai- 


Wilson,  Conn.  "MoYfmf's 
he  nitv  routine  is  easy!  Helps 
„  skin  look  freslier  more 
attractive!"- Gloria  l!ari.e> 


W'arrenlon,  Va 

help-  ■ 


rrenlon,  va.  "Noxzema 
IS  heal  my  blemishes*  and 
IS  /,<('p  niy  skin  looking 
Kay  Coiiroy 


softer. 


Montreal.- rarn^istej^PS^,---—-  ^^TITo  COStl 
NoNzema  is  a  p-"   ,1^  loVoUcl— Ol  U"  ^ 

1.  Cleanse  by  "eai  >^.„^,,ema 
^,ox.e,naand-at-Awl^^^^^^,,,,, 

to  face  and  "'^■<'^'  r'^!"!,  as  if  using 
^•x  in  ^avm  water  and 

--^nr^srru.  and 

appear. 


1' 


appear.  no>. 
feels -not  dry,  or  dra 


Follow  the  different 
skin  care  given  here. 

Well  over  a  million  women  have  changed  to  it 
...and  they're  happy  with  results! 

Aliiiiil  lour  yciirs  ;i  |)roMiiii(  iil  A\\\\  ilrx  lor  workcil 
oiil  ,1  new  ,111(1  (lin'crcMil  kiml  of  lic.iuly  rout iiie  —  witli  a 
special  kind  of  Ix'tiuly  cream. 

The  routine  is  so  simple,  aii.\l)oily  can  do  it!  ll'^ 
quick,  too!  Takes  no  more  time  tliaii  washing  your  face. 
And  it  really  works!  Nationwide  surveys  show  thai 
more  than  a  million  women  throughout  the  United 
Slates  and  Canada  have  changed  to  this  new  routine 
and  find  il  very  effective. 

Marked  improvement  for  4  out  of  5! 

The  noted  doctor  used  clinical  te>ts  on  scores  of  women 
of  different  ages  — with  different  types  of  skin.  Xot  every 
woman  benefited— but  4 out  of  5  women  showed  definite 
iniprox  emciit  —  eomi)lexion  improvement  they  could 
jcd  and  seel 

Why  it's  so  successful! 

This  simple,  different  beauty  routine  owes  its  rcmark- 
al)le  effectiveness  to  the  unique  qualities  of  Xoxzcma.' 
This  famous  (jrcuselcss  skin  cream  is  a  medicaled  formula. 
It's  a  combination  of  softening,  soothing,  cleansing  and 
healing  ingredients  offered  by  no  other  leading  beaut\' 
cream. 

That's  why  it  has  helped  so  many  women  with  dis- 
couraging skin  jji-oblenis:  rough,  dry  skin;  externally- 
caused  blemishes;  and  the  dull,  lifeless, //a//-c/tffl?t  look  of 
so  many  so-called  normal  complexions. 

New  beauty  in  your  mirror! 

Wouldn't  you  like  to  look  in  your  mirror  10  days  from 
now  and  see  a  fresher-looking,  smoother,  more  attractive 
complexion?  Then  get  the  generous  trial  jar  offered  be- 
low and  start  Noxzema's  simple  effective  beauty  care 
tonight ! 

It  works  or  money  bock!  If  not  delighted  after  a 
10  day  trial,  return  jar  to  Xoxzema,  Baltimore.  Your 
■money  back!  That's  how  sure  we  are  this  greaseless,  med- 
icated beauty  cream  can  help  your  complexion  look 
fresher,  smoother,  more  attractive. 

*externaUY-taused 


Look  lovelier  of feiTI 


Wheaton,Ill."Myface  ] 

looks  so  mueli  smoother,  i 
softer.  Make-up  Koes  on 
too!"-  .leanne  Cameron  | 


on  to  l>elp  jour 

blemishes   to  nei]         ^  corrective  .  ^  ^  , 


1*  use  this  trial  jar  —  see  how  much  lovelier  it 
helps  your  skin  look 

2*  then  save  money  by  getting  giant  10  oz.  jar 
only  89^  plus  tax !  Drug  or  cosmetic  counters. 


I  LI 


I.   \  1) 


II    O    M  K 


.1    (»    I      I!  \ 


May,  1 


Its  fun  making  clothes  the  profeQQional  way. 


M 

TFie  Dot  Snapper  kit  does  the  trick. 


Just  tap  with  a  hamnner;  no  sewing  at  all. 


Snap  Dress,  Simplicit)'  Pattern  4268 


Its  easy,  convenient  and  quick. 


Snap  !  its  open ! 

&nap  I  if&  cJosad ! 

its  a  snap  with 


DOT. 


Dot  Snappers  are  the  same  laundryproof,  fabric-flat  fasteners 
you  see  on  good  ready-made  garments,  the  only  fasteners  that 
come  with  the  special  attaching  tool.  So  be  sure  to  get  genuine 
Dot  Snappers.  Kit  $1,  refills  (choice  of  colors  and  sizes)  25^ 
at  notion  counters.  Look  for  Dot  Snappers,  too,  when  you  buy 
sleepers,  creepers,  baby  pants  and  other  children's  garments. 


UNITED-CARR      •      First  in  Fasteners      •      Cambridge  42,  Mass. 


(Continued  from  Page  112) 
pital  ships  as  well  as  the  nurses  and  with- 
out the  need  of  providing  separate  living 
quarters  for  the  women.  Every  doctor  I 
talked  with  disagreed  and  said  that  women, 
as  nurses,  are  irreplaceable. 

General  O.  P.  Weyland,  commander 
of  the  Far  Eastern  Air  Force,  said,  "  It  isn't 
that  we're  scraping  the  bottom  of  the  barrel 
for  manpower,  but  there  are  some  jobs 
women  can  do  tetter  than  men.  Many 
are  working  in  weather,  tower  control, 
photomapping.  We've  made  some  mis- 
takes in  the  past  but  I  think  we've  cor- 
rected them.  In  general  women  work  best 
in  units." 

And  General  Mark  Clark  said,  "I  am 
proud  of  the  women  who  are  doing  such  a 
great  job  and  am  glad  to  have  them  in  my 
commands.  The  American  people  may  well 
be  proud  of  them." 

With  regards  to  the  staff, 

LAURA  LOU 

Honolulu,  T.  H. 

Dear  Mrs.  Gould:  You  know  what  we've 
always  heard  about  service  gripes  among 
the  men.  Well,  the  girls  in  service  have 
some  gripes  too.  The  Wafs  don't  like 
their  new  hats.  Say  the  brim  is  so  wide  in 
front  that  when  they  salute  they're  likely 
to  knock  their  hats  off.  A  lot  of  Wacs 
don't  like  their  dress  hat  either  because  of 
what  it  does  to  a  hairdo  when  the  hat 
comes  off.  Everyone  prefers  overseas  caps, 
but  they  cannot  wear  them  on  dress  occa- 
sions. The  Air  Force  gabardine  isn't  warm 
enough.  ("Long  johns  are  'demand  issue' 
for  flight  nurses.  If  you  don't  have  them 
when  you  get  to  Japan,  you  send  home  for 
some  quick.")  The  handbags  which  are 
part  of  the  Wacs'  and  Wafs'  uniforms  aren't 
roomy  enough. 

A  Wac  said,  "  I  can't  make  any  rating 
no  matter  how  hard  I  try.  The  promotion 
setup  isn't  good." 

A  good  many  others — officers  as  well  as 
enlisted  girls,  think  the  forty-month  tour 
of  duty  overseas  is  too  long.  Women,  just 
as  men,  in  the  Army  must  acquire  forty 
points  before  they  can  return  to  the  States. 
For  duty  in  Japan,  they  get  one  point  a 
month;  for  duty  on  Okinawa,  one  and 
a  half  points;  for  duty  in  Korea,  two 
points.  Nurses,  who  rotate  to  all  three  com- 
mands, can  acquire  points  faster  than  the 
others. 

Another  gripe  is  bedcheck.  "We  have  to 
be  in  bed  by  midnight.  If  not,  you're  re- 
ported and  get  restricted.  Of  course  you 
can  put  in  for  an  overnight  pass,  but  you 
have  to  do  that  the  day  before  and  some- 
times there  isn't  time.  A  person  old  enough 
to  be  in  the  Army  shouldn't  have  to  keep 
such  rules." 

That's  the  total  list  of  gripes  after  three 
weeks'  questioning.  The  reason  all  Wacs 
look  better  than  they  used  to  is  that 
their  uniforms  are  now  made  in  tall, 
medium  and  short  sizes.  Also  a  girl  can 
have  a  Size  12  jacket  and  a  14  skirt  if  she 
happens  to  have  those  proportions.  Or  an 
18  jacket  and  a  16  skirt.  Uniforms  assem- 
bled in  this  way  look  just  about  as  well  as 
custom-tailored  suits. 

It  isn't  true  that  flight  nurses  must  be  of 
a  certain  height.  In  the  801st  Air  Evacua- 
tion Squadron  (the  oldest  Air  Force  medi- 
cal unit  operating  in  Korea)  there  is  a 
flight  nurse  who  is  5  feet,  1 1  inches  tall  and 
one  just  under  5  feet. 

Ages  vary  as  much  as  size.  Major  Ruth 
Gorton,  of  Denver,  commanding  officer  of 
the  WAC  battalion  in  Tokyo,  said  the 
average  age  of  the  battalion  is  26,  although 
actually  most  of  the  girls  are  21  or  22.  "We 
have  Wacs  of  every  age  from  19  to  59 
with  the  single  exception  that  there  is  no 
one  here  who  is  52.  Every  other  year  is 
represented." 

Belonging  to  a  Journal  Sub-Deb  club  or 
a  4-H  club  is  a  point  in  favor  of  the  girl 
applying  for  enlistment,  according  to  Cap- 
tain lone  Severson,  WAF  recruiting  officer 
in  Honolulu.  The  enlistment  requirements 
have  been  raised — they  are  actually  as 
high  for  enlisted  girls  now  as  they  were 
for  officers'  training  school  during  the 
war. 

In  Tokyo,  saw  Eric  Britter  of  the 
London  Times,  who,  with  Margaret  Par- 
ton,  wrote  our  piece  on  "Young  India." 
We  met  Captain  Allan  Bosworth,  author 
of  a  number  of  Journal  short  stories.  And 
in  Honolulu  Commander  Bill  Lederer,  who 
wrote  Operation  Kid-Lift  with  our  Nelle 
Perry  (December  Journal).  Many  of 
Xelle's  old  friends  in  the  Navy  sent  her 
regards  from  Pearl  Harbor,  Guam  and 
Tokvo. 


I'll  be  seeing  you  in  a  few  days  now.  In 
the  meantime,  "Aloha  nui  nui  loa."  (That 
means  a  Rveat  bin  aloha.)       4URA  LOU 


4tnr  Own  Al«klh<>r-nn<l- 
Danghtvr  Seri<>N 

Istanbul,  Turkey 

Dear  Editors:  Freedom  has  always 
meant  everything  to  the  Turkish  people. 
"No  man  has  a  right  to  live  unless  he 
strives  to  achieve  freedom  for  his  country, 
or  having  achieved  it,  to  keep  it  forever 
and  ever." 

This  is  what  every  Turkish  boy  and 
girl  is  taught,  thereby  making  freedom 
a  part  of  their  souls,  of  their  very  being. 
Courageous,  kind,  very  hospitable,  rather 
lazy  and  easygoing,  quick-tempered  but 
generous.  That  sums  up  the  average 
Turk's  temperament. 

Istanbul  is  a  city  of  paradoxes.  The 
fridge  of  Galata,  crossing  over  the  Golden 
Horn,  leads  into  two  different  worlds.  On 
one  side  rise  the  tall  buildings,  the  movies, 
with  people  pouring  in  to  see  Gregory 
Peck;  the  Parisienne  fashion  stores;  the- 
aters where  sometimes  you  see  Of  Mice 
and  Men  (in  Turkish) .  People  in  this  quar- 
ter live  in  luxurious  apartments  with 
lovely  furniture  and  the  children  go  to  the 
best  schools. 

The  other  side  of  the  bridge  still  retains 
the  quiet  loneliness  of  the  old.  As  the  sun 
goes  down  against  the  red  sky,  the  silhou- 
ettes of  the  numerous  mosques,  their 
minarets  tall  and  slender,  rise  to  the  sky. 
The  cobblestone-paved  streets  are  narrow, 
and  the  small,  tumble-down  frame  houses 
lean  as  if  to  keep  one  another  from  falling 
down. 

Some  of  the  windows  are  closely 
shuttered,  so  the  women  of  old  could  not 
be  seen,  a  far  cry  from  the  well-dressed, 
well-educated,  liberal-minded  Turkish 
women  of  today. 

I  was  an  ardent  Journal  fan  all 
through  my  English  high  school  and  col- 
lege years.  Now,  having  been  married  for 
a  little  over  a  year,  and  having  a  baby 
daughter,  Zeyneb,  six  months  old,  the 


Journal  girl.s — Turkey. 

Journal  is  more  than  ever  interesting  to 
me.  I  especially  enjoy  and  follow  the  Life 
in  America  series;  that  is  why  I  thought 
that  you  might  perhaps  be  interested  in 
knowing  something  of  our  life  here  in 
Turkey. 

Ever  your  true  Journal  fan, 
ZULEYHA  SADIKOGLU 

Junior  World  Cilizon 

Bronx,  New  York 
Dear  Editors:  As  a  mother  of  three  boys, 
it  sometimes  seems  to  be  a  futile  struggle ! 
However,  all  my  efforts  were  rewarded 
when  I  read  this  written  by  my  .seven- 
year-old  son,  Martin: 

Rules  for  Oltr  Club 

1.  Safety  first. 

2.  No  fighting,  only  with  crooks. 

3.  Be  polite: 

4.  Act  as  any  other  man  should  act. 

5.  Think  up  good  ideas,  not  bad  ones. 

6.  Be  good  at  home. 

7.  Always  do  things  that  are  right. 

8.  Never  be  afraid. 

9.  Learn  from  wonderful  books. 

10.  Always  play  with  your  brother  or 
sister. 

Snicerely, 
MRS.  G.  SILVERBERG 

►  H  ('  think  they  belong  on  the  agenda  of 
the         Congratulations,  mother.  ED. 


L  A   I)    I    K    S  '       II  II 


Ml  I     <i     I       l(     \     \  I 


When  a  cliikl's  eoiigh  ])ersisis  alter  a  eold  or  other  illness,  it 
may  be  a  sign  of  hiclden  infeelion.  See  your  doetor  promptly. 


Tint  Voiiifh  That  "lltintfs  On 

It.v  lilt.  Ill<:il.>l.\.\  ^.  lll'IMIKKKIV 

lV,-sl,l.-Mi.  Clii.  an..  Hoar.l  .,1  ilralili 


I'M  afraid  you  will  think  I  am  an  over- 
anxious, worryint;  woman,  doclor." 
aid  Sally's  mother  apologetically.  "There 
loesn'l  seem  to  be  anything  really  the  mat- 
er with  Sally.  It's  just  that  now  it  is  spring, 
ind  Sally's  cough  still  hangs  on  after  that 
lu  she  had  'way  back  last  winter.  I've  begun 

0  wonder  whether  — well,  could  it  be  tu- 
)erculosis?  " 

Ten-year-old  Sally,  being  prepared  by 
he  nurse  in  another  room  for  a  thorough 
)hysical  checkup,  had  looked  a  picture  of 
:lowing  health  to  me  when  I  greeted  her. 
iut  I  assured  the  mother  that  she  had"done 
xactly  right  in  bringing  Sally  for  a  thor- 
lugh  going  over. 

In  fact,  I  wish  all  parents  would  consult 
he  doctor  when  children's  coughs'  persist 
nto  the  warm  months,  especially,  after  the 
k'inter  bouts  of  virus  or  upper-respiratory 
nfections  have  gone  their  way.  If  not 
reated  properly,  coughs  may  become  a 
ause  of  irritation  to  the  respiratory  organs, 
ventually  damaging  them,  perhaps  even 
iffecling  the  general  health.  Also,  we  doc- 
ors  know  that  what  is  a  "little  cold"  in  a 
)ig  person  can  turn  out  to  be  a  big  cold  in  a 
ittle  person  when  the  complications  possi- 
)le  are  taken  into  account.  Any  of  the  so- 
alled  children's  diseases,  or  one  of  the 
nany  types  of  flu— sometimes  just  a  com- 
non  cold— may  lower  resistance.  That 
ipens  the  way  to  secondary  invaders  which 
nay  cause  real  trouble. 

Thus  a  cough  that  "hangs  on"  following 

1  cold  or  other  illness  could  be  the  result  of 
ontinued  infection  or  inflammation.  In 
ome  cases  it  is  caused  by  a  sinus  infection, 
vith  mucus  dripping  into  the  throat,  or  by 
niarged  or  infected  tonsils  or  adenoids.  In 
are  instances  infection  may  reach  deep 
nto  the  lungs,  as  Sally's  mother  feared. 
Chronic  bronchitis  can  follow  influenza.  So 
:an  bronchiectasis,  or  a  chronic  unresolved 
jronchial  pneumonia,  or  a  number  of  other 
lisorders  of  the  lungs  or  bronchial  tubes. 
\nd  sometimes  a  persistent  cough  is  a 
warning  that  the  heart  has  been  affected. 

So  wdien  spring  sunshine  and  balmy 
\eather  have  not  succeeded  in  banishing 
:he  aftermaths  of  winter  illness,  it  is  wise 


indeed  to  take  stock  and  find  out  what  the 
situation  is.  If  some  organic  cause  is  found 
for  the  cough,  of  course,  the  physician  will 
treat  it.  The  case  will  be  in  his  hands,  and 
you  will  follow  his  directions. 

And  now  back  to  Sally.  Her  outward  ap- 
pearance was  that  of  a  robustly  healthy 
ten-year-old.  But  she  did  have  a  racking 
cough  which  made  her  face  red  and  the 
cords  of  her  neck  stand  out.  She  obliged 
with  several  paroxysms  while  I  was  con- 
ducting the  examination.  Her  mother  said 
the  cough  was  more  pronounced  in  the 
mornings  and  at  bedtime.  Frequently  the 
child  was  kept  awake  at  night,  coughing, 
long  after  she  had  gone  to  bed.  No  kind  of 
cough  drops  or  medicine,  it  appeared,  had 
brought  any  perceptible  relief.  During 
school  hours  and  playtime,  Sally  coughed 
occasionally,  but  not  so  severely  as  at  night. 

Yet  we  could  find  no  organic  cause  f6r  it 
at  all.  Tuberculin  test  and  X  rays  revealed 
no  sign  of  tuberculosis.  Nor  was  there  any 
trace  of  chronic  infection  or  recurring  irri- 
tation in  the  respiratory  area.  Sally's  young 
heart  was  working  perfectly.  That  left  two 
possibilities— either  allergy,  or  emotional 
upset  or  disturbance.  So  we  tested  to  find 
out  if  Sally  might  be  allergic  to  some  food, 
pollen  or  dust  with  which  she  came  in  con- 
tact. For  example,  the  morning-and-eve- 
ning  cycle  of  coughing  suggested  that  some- 
thing in  the  bedroom  might  be  responsible, 
such  as  a  feather  pillow  or  puff,  or  cotton 
sheets  and  pillowcases.  But  the  allergy 
tests  ruled  these  out,  along  with  everything 
else  we  could  think  of  that  seemed  even  re- 
motely suspicious. 

I  was  happy  to  be  able  to  tell  the  mother 
that  Sally  was  in  excellent  physical  condi- 
tion. We  sat  down  for  a  friendly  talk  about 
the  circumstances  of  Sally's  life.  Gradually 
it  became  apparent  that  Sally  had  an 
"emotional  cough."  Her  parents  were  very 
busy  people.  A  year  before,  Sally's  mother 
had  taken  on  a  job  which  required  much  of 
her  time.  In  addition,  the  parents  had  a 
rather  full  social  life  and  were  away  from 
home  a  great  deal  in  the  evenings.  Without 
realizing  it,  they  were  depriving  Sally  of  the 
assurances  of  their  love  and  attention  that 


a  wonderful  Avay 
to  start  the  day 

Each  new  day  with  Stride  Ritos  is  another  day  in 
which  young  feet  gel  the  protection  and  support  they 
must  liave  to  grow  slraiglit  and  strong.  For 
every  pair  of  Stride  Rites  is  built  on  thoroughly  tested 

lasts  —  with  a  skill  and  care  that  have  earned 
for  these  fine  shoes  the  confidence  of  mothers 
and  the  recommendation  of  so  many'  doctors. 


THE 


TRIDEIVITE 


R 


Green  Shoe  Mfg.  Co.,  Boston,  Mass. 


116 


L   ADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  I9i 


This  different  baby  powder 
makes  a  big  difference 


.  .  ,  to  your  baby's  rose-petal  skin 


Yes,  Mennen  Baby  Powder  is  different.  It's  made 
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baby's  skin.  It's  borated  for  extra  purity .  . . 
and  has  a  super-silken  texture  that  feels  like 
the  gentle  Spring  air  on  your  baby's  skin. 

Use  this  different  powder  and  see  what  a 
difference  it  makes!  Works  wonders  against 
diaper  rash,  heat  rash,  urine  scald  and  chafing. 
Delicately  scented.  Remember,  ALL 
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every  youngster  needs.  But  see  wfiat  hap- 
pened when  Sally  came  down  with  the  flu! 
Mother  stayed  at  home,  fussed  with  her  all 
day,  look  her  temperature,  brought  her  juices 
and  soups,  made  daily  reports  on  her  condi- 
tion to  the  doctor,  showered  her  with  loving 
care.  As  soon  as  he  came  home  in  the  eve- 
ning, father  inquired  anxiously  about  her.  In- 
stead of  vanishing  into  his  den  to  work  at 
his  papers,  he  sat  at  her  bedside,  visiting 
with  her  and  reading  to  her. 

Sometimes  children  unconsciously  pro- 
long illnesses,  because  that  is  the  only  way 
they  receive  evidence  of  parental  affection 
that  they  crave.  The  affection  should  be 
supplied,  but  without  turning  the  child  into 
a  hypochondriac.  I  told  Sally's  parents  first 
of  all  to  stop  fussing  over  Sally.  No  more 
anxious  inquiries  about  how  she  felt,  and  no 
more  glasses  of  water  rushed  to  her  bedside. 
"Instead,"  I  instructed  them,  "treat  the 
cough  casually,  without  being  obvious  about 
it.  Abov  all,  don't  show  any  impatience  or 
annoyance  when  a  coughing  spell  does  occur. 
At  the  same  time,  make  more  of  a  real, 
thoughtful  effort  to  show  Sally  that  she  is 
loved  and  wanted." 

This  can  never  be  done,  as  I  have  repeatedly 
told  parents,  by  lavish  displays  of  attention 
sandwiched  in  between  alternating  periods 
of  indifference  or  neglect.  Rather,  there  must 
be  continuing  demonstration  that  the  child  is 
an  integral  part  of  the  family  group. 


"Take  Sally  out  with  you  occasionally, 
the  movies  or  to  supper,"  I  suggested,  "in- 
stead of  always  leaving  her  home  with  ai 
sitter  while  you  go  off  for  your  own  entertain- 
ment. Stay  home  oftener— and,  when  you: 
do,  get  Sally  into  the  act.  Read  books  and 
play  games  together.  This  is  the  kind  of 
attention  Sally  really  needs.  When  her  feeling 
of  inner  security  is  built  up  in  this  way,  she 
won't  need  the  artificial  display  that  she  has 
found  she  can  turn  on  by  coughing." 

According  to  a  recent  report  from  her 
mother,  Sally's  coughing  spells  are  already 
diminishing  in  frequency,  severity  and  dura- 
tion under  this  treatment. 

Please  don't  fall  into  the  error  of  dosing 
your  coughing  youngster  with  leftover  sulfas 
or  antibiotics  in  the  medicine  cabinet.  These 
are  potent  drugs.  Powerfully  good  as  they; 
are  when  rightly  used,  they  can  be  powerful^ 
bad  when  wrongly  applied.  Nor  would  I  ad^i 
vise  you  to  give  a  harmless-seeming  cougij 
medicine,  eitlier,  that  you  happen  to  have  o» 
hand.  The  doctor  may  prescribe  one,  along 
with  the  proper  drugs  to  combat  inflamma^j 
tion  or  infection.  But  it  furnishes  only  tem| 
porary  relief.  None  of  these  medicines  shoulf 
be  used  unless  a  doctor  prescribes  them  and 
indicates  the  dosage.  ;i 

Whether  his  upset  is  physical  or  emotional^ 
the  child  with  a  cough  is  entitled  to  a  thor^ 
ough  medical  examination,  and  treatment 
based  upon  knowledge  of  the  cause.  ii 


FIKEWOKKS  FOR  MICHELLE 

(Continued  from  Page  44) 


and  the  eyes  behind  the  bifocal  lenses  were 
sharp.  He  said,  "Welcome  to  New  York, 
Mrs.  Fitch.  Welcome  to  the  Calitex  Family." 

The  headwaiter  and  a  captain  held  chairs 
out  from  the  table  while  Garry  bowed  over 
Mrs.  Ollivant's  hand  and  introduced  Mi- 
chelle. "Bright"  was  the  word  for  Mrs.  Olli- 
vant:  a  bright  expression,  made  up  of  a 
bright  smile  that  showed  bright  teeth;  bright 
gray  eyes  under  brightly  raised  eyebrows. 
Michelle  stretched  her  stiff  lips  into  a  smile. 

"My  dear!"  Mrs.  Ollivant  said  brightly. 
"We've  all  been  looking  forward  to  meeting 
you.  When  one  of  our  smartest  young  men 
goes  to  California  on  a  business  trip  and 
brings  back  a  bride  Do  sit  down." 

Mr.  Ollivant  settled  himself  into  his  chair 
like  an  egg  into  its  nest.  He  said,  "A  man  in 
Garry  Fitch's  position — 
a  man  destined  for  the  po- 
sition in  the  corporation 
that  Garry  Fitch  will  hold 
someday — needs  a  wife 
who  " 

"The  oysters  are  won- 
derful here,"  Mrs.  Ollivant 
said,  "if  you  like  East 
Coast  oysters,  Mrs.  Fitch." 

"Oh,  yes.  I'm  an  Easterner.  We  moved  to 
California  just  before  the  war.  I  was  born  on 
a  farm  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley.  Not  a  real 
working  farm,  of  course,  but  daddy  had  a  lot 
of  fun  with  it,  when  he  wasn't  writing." 

"Writing?"  Mr.  Ollivant's  eyebrows  went 
up  to  add  two  more  curves  to  his  face. 

"  Your  father  writes  ? "  Mrs.  Ollivant  asked. 

"Novels.  He's  John  Peter  Carton." 

Mrs.  Ollivant  said,  "Oh,  yes!"  brightly. 
Her  husband  looked  blank. 

"He  doesn't  best -sell  usually,  though  he 
had  a  best  seller  a  few  years  ago.  To  Die  a 
Little.  You  may  have  " 

"Your  father  wrote  that?"  Mr.  Ollivant 
asked,  and  blinked  bifocally. 

"To  Die  a  Little,"  his  wife  repeated,  grop- 
ing through  her  memory.  "Oh,  yes!  About 
the  young  man  who  Oh,  dear  me,  yes." 

Michelle  thought  of  the  scene  in  the  cabin, 
the  boy  and  the  girl  before  the  fire.  ..."  Did 
it  shock  you,  Mr.  Ollivant?"  she  laughed. 

"Eh?  Huh.  Not  the  way  you  mean,  no. 
But  the  misrepresentation  of  the  attitude  of 
Management  toward  " 

"Do  let's  order,"  Mrs.  Ollivant  said. 
"Shall  we  all  have  blue  points?  Only  one 
more  month  with  the  letter  r  in  it,  you  know. 
They  do  a  delicious  chicken  a  la  king,  though 
I  really  shouldn't,  but  you  don't  have  to 
watch  your  figure,  do  you,  my  dear?" 


( 


••••••«••# 

If  there's  any  philosophy 
in  a  man,  marriage  will  de- 
velop it.  -ANON. 

•••••••••• 


"That's  four  blue  points,"  Mr.  Ollivan^ 
said,  touching  a  gold  pencil  to  the  meni 
"Chicken  king  for  you,  Claire?  You,  ti 
Mrs.  Fitch?  Garry?  Make  it  unanimous?" 
"The  ayes  have  it,"  Garry  said. 
"How  was  your  trip?"  Mrs.  Ollivani 
asked  Michelle.  ' 

"Oh,  perfect.  Smooth  as  whipped  crean^ 
It  was  hard  to  believe  we  were  flying.  .  .  | 
Oh,  and  I  must  thank  somebody  for  thi 
hotel  reservation.  You.  Mr.  Ollivant?"  I 
"My  office  takes  care  of  things  like  that.'l 
he  said.  "Standard  practice.  Don't  like  ouij 
executive  personnel  wasting  time  am 
thought  on  details.  Save  their  energies." 

"It's  very  pleasant,"  Michelle  said.  "Anc 
the  Hotel  Harrow  seems  like  a  nice  littll 

place.  Clean  and  quiet  and  " 

"We  try  to  fit  the  ac 
commodations  to  a  man' 
income  bracket.  No  sens( 
putting  up  at  a  place  tha: 
costs  you  a  day's  pay  foi 
the  room.  When  C.  J.  Littl 
wants  hotel  space,  we  ge 
him  the  best  suite  in  thi 
best  hotel.  Mrs.  Ollivan 
and  I ,  we  're  do  wn  the  scale 
we  take  a  double  room  or  go  to  a  hotel  that'i 
not  quite  so  expensive.  And  so  on  down."  | 
Garry  must  have  seen  the  expression  Mi 
chelle  could  feel  stiffening  her  face.  He  said 
"The  Harrow's  just  right  for  us.  They  ha( 
the  room  ready  when  we  walked  in  thi 
morning,  and  the  message  about  meetinj 
you  for  lunch.  And  even  theater  tickets." 

"Reservations,"  Mr.  Ollivant  correcte( 
him.  "Two  most  popular  shows  in  towri 
Macbeth,  and  Rocket  for  Venus,  the  big  nefl 
musical  comedy.  Both  sold  out  way  ahead, 
but  we  get  tickets  at  box-office  prices."  I 
"Oh,  but  you  think  of  everything!"  Mi-i 
chelle  said.  j 
"Try  to.  Like  our  people  to  be  up  oi^ 
what's  talked  about,  of  course. . . .  Mr.  Roe^ 
man  in  my  office — he  figured  you  two'd  like 
to  stay  at  a  hotel  three  days  or  so,  and  movej 
into  the  house  over  the  week  end." 
"The  house?"  Michelle  repeated. 
"Just  getting  to  that,"  Mr.  Ollivant  said. 
"Another  of  our  services  to  our  executive 
personnel.  The  corporation  controls  a  good 
many  residential  properties,  furnished,  fully 
equipped,  ready  to  live  in.  Rents  'em  to  its 
employees  at  cost." 

"All  fitted  to  income  brackets?" 
"That's  right.  And  no  leases.  With  a 
world-wide  organization  like  Calitex,  wt 
(Continued  on  Page  118) 


Soft  Drt'ss  for  l'inir-L«'ttf-(',lot  «'r  IJres 


Sweet  clover  isn't  sweeter  than  a  baby  dressed 
in  Carter's!  Happy  JifTon  ^NevabindB* 
never  bind  or  chafe  . . .  make  dressing  quick. 
And  their  wave-and-grow  room  lasts, 
because  Carter's  fine  cottons 
are  Carter-Set . . .  they  will 
not  shrink  out  of  fit. 
Ah,  yes,  Carter  knits  put 
summer  living  on  clover 
wings.  Mother  turns 
ironing  time  into 
sun-time.  And 
,   ^   her  babies 
stay  dainty 
as  teacups! 

Reading 
clockwise 
from  Mr.  Bee 
to  fly-by  baby 
in  a  yellow  gown: 

JifFon-Nevabind  gown 
with  new  Handy-Cuffs.  White, 
yellow,  pink,  blue,  or 
green.  Birth  to  1  yr.,  $1.50. 

JifFon-Nevabind  shirt  with  two-way 
Diapenda*  tapes.  White,  pink, 
blue,  yellow,  green.  Birth  to  3  yrs.,  79(5. 

Darling  Ponti-dress  Twosomes.  Pink, 
blue  or  yellow  rosebuds  on  white 
grounds.  6  mos.-2yrs.,  $2.35. 

Rosebud  print  jackets  too.  $1.25 

Famous  Nevaslip*  Tyke  Tops  and  no-droop 
Tyke*  pants.  1-8  yrs.,  69^  to  85^  ea. 

At  fine  stores  everywhere.  For  store  near  you, 
write  The  William  Carter  Company,  Needham  Heights,  Mass. 


No  washday  job  is  too  tough  ^ 
^    or  too  delicate! 


N^NORGEl^AUTOMATIC  WASHER 

OftlcC^         jv(?iyUCS  -Norge  does  your  wash  automatically  from 
v        U       v)  fill  to  finish  .  .  .  safer  and  more  gently  than  you 

could  do  it  by  hand!  From  grimy  work  togs  to  filmy  Nylons,  if  it's  hand- 
washable  it's  Nor^f-washable.  Tests  prove  that  Norge's  extra-large  Wave- 
Action  agitator  gets  clothes  cleaner  .  .  .  does  it  so  gently  that  it  actually 
prolongs  normal  fabric  life.  Five-way  warm  rinse  floats  out  every  trace  of  soap 
and  soil  .  .  .  Super-Spin  leaves  your  clothes  fluffy  and  free  of  tangles. 

O^lirGAt  UT./  UA^  — With  Norge's  famous  Time-Line  control  you 
U  can  skip  or  repeat  any  part  of  the  cycle  any  time. 

You  know  what's  happening  every  minute.  Exclusive  new  Safety  Spin  stops 
action  automatically  when  you  lift  the  lid;  close  it  and  spin  starts  again. 
$279.  (With  Safety  Spin,  $299.) 


Merchandise  Mart.  Chicaeo  54  •  Addison  Industries,  Toronto 


118 

(CotilinueJ  from  Page  116) 
have  a  good  many  transfers  from  one  place 
to  another  in  the  course  of  a  year.  Especially 
among  our  executives.  Way  we  operate, 
when  a  man's  transferred  we  take  his  home 
off  his  hands  and  assign  him  another  in  his 
new  locaHty.  Saves  worry  and  bother." 

The  oysters  arrived.  Michelle  allowed  her 
eyes  to  meet  Garry's  for  an  instant,  then 
stared  at  the  plate  that  had  been  placed  be- 
fore her. 

"Where  "  she  breathed. 

"Fairlea,  Connecticut,"  Mr.  Ollivant  said, 
and  brought  a  memorandum  book  out  of  a 
waistcoat  pocket.  "Let's  see.  .  .  .  Ah.  Here 
we  are.  One-sixty-seven  Willow  Road.  Fair- 
lea's  fifty  minutes  from  Grand  Central. 
Good  train  service.  Your  house  is  six  min- 
utes .  .  ." 

He  went  on.  Michelle  pictured  long,  tree- 
less streets  with  identical  houses,  identically 
furnished  and  equipped,  identically  ready  for 
occupai.cy  by  identical  executives  and  their 
identical  wives.  She  remembered  Garry's 
saying  something  about  renting  a  house  from 
the  corporation,  but  she  had  expected  a  list 
to  choose  from. 

"Fairlea's  really  quite  charming,"  Mrs. 
Ollivant  said  brightly.  "Plenty  of  trees. 
Streets  that  curve  just  enough." 

"  I'm  dying  "  Michelle  began,  and  let 

it  go  at  that  as  Mrs.  Ollivant  continued : 

"A  little  bare  in  March,  of  course, ^but 
next  month  when  things  start  to  come  out 
you'll  find  it  lovely.  Gracious." 

"It's  certainly  .  .  .  efficient,"  Garry  said, 
and  his  smile  at  Michelle  made  her  wonder 
whether  he  had  just  swallowed  a  bad  oyster. 
"As  a  bachelor,  I  had  no  idea  how— well- 
efficient   " 

"The  corporation  has  a  stake  in  a  man's 
home  life,"  Mr.  Ollivant  said.  "It  supports 
his  whole  family,  and  it  expects  his  family's 
support  in  return.  I'm  proud  to  say  that 
since  I've  been  in  charge  of  Personnel,  Cali- 
tex  does  more  for  its  people  than  any  other 
organization  in  the  country.  Smooths  the 
way,  fends  off  personal  worries  tJiat  impair  a 
man's  efficiency.  No  detail  is  too  small." 

His  wife  laughed  brightly  and  whispered 
aloud  to  Michelle  in  mock  confidence,  "He 
ought  to  know.  When  we  were  first  married, 
he  used  to  wash  the  dishes  and  tend  the  fur- 


May,  m. 

nace.  And  change  the  baby  too.  It  impaired"  i 
his  efficiency,  all  right.  Didn't  it,  dear? "  • 

Mr.  Ollivant  arrested  a  dripping  oyster  ar^  ; 
inch  from  his  open  mouth.  "Had  a  goot' 
wife,"  he  said.  The  oyster  went  on  its  way. 

"You  see,  Mrs.  Fitch?  If  you  put  you] 
heart  into  your  job,  you  get  your  reward! 
Your  husband  admits  you're  a  good  wife.' 

Michelle  tried  to  laugh  and  speared  ai 
oyster. 

Mrs.  Ollivant  chewed  efficiently.  Shi 
asked,  "Must  I  call  you  'Mrs.  Fitch'?  I'n 
one  of  the  mothers  of  the  Calitex  Family  anc 
I  hate  to  be  st'andoffish  and  formal." 

"Oh,  please!  My  name  is  Michelle.  A 
home  they  call  me  Mike." 

"'Mike'  seems  a  lit-tle  Do  you  liki 

it  pronounced  that  way,  like  French— Meei 
shell?"  I  I 

"Why  .  .  .  well,  it  is  French — my  fatherv* 
mother  was  French,  and  it  was  her  name 
But  I  don't  mind  'Mike.'" 

"You  have  to  consider  your  dignity,  dear 
You'll  be  meeting  a  lot  of  Calitex  people  wh( 
are  . . .  well,  subordinate  to  Garry,  and  it  wyji 
be  necessary  to  strike  a  nice  balance, 

friendly,  that  is,  and  yet           You'll  nea 

tact  twenty-four  hours  a  day— with  thos. 
who  are  on  your  own  level,  and  above  yov^i 
and  below.  "There  are  changes  from  time  till 
time.  It  doesn't  do  to  be  snobbish  and  it' 
risky  to  be  too  intimate.  You'll  learn." 

"Oh,  I  hope  so,"  Michelle  said. 

Mrs.  Ollivant  had  dropped  her  brightness  , 
she  was  speaking  for  California-Texas  Pe 
troleum  Corporation.  As  the  wife  of  the  Vic^ 
President  for  Personnel.  Using  tact.  Ni 
being  snobbish  because  it  doesn't  do. 

"You  have  a  great  responsibility,  m] 
dear.  You  can  help  or  hinder  Garry's  ad 
vancement  by  the  kind  of  wife  you  are, 
the  way  you  fit  into  the  Calitex  Family, 
course  we  don't  expect  too  much  at  firsi 
Rome  wasn't  built  in  a  day." 

No.  Not  Rome.  Not  Mrs.  Ollivant  either.  I 
must  take  years  and  years  to  get  as  hard  as  thai 

The  Ollivants  settled  themselves  in  thi' 
big  black  limousine  and  the  chauffeur  move(- 
it  smoothly  away. 

Michelle  slipped  her  hand  under  Garry' 
arm  and  looked  up  at  him.  "Golly!  May 
laugh  now?" 


JENNIFER 


"If  you're  our  parents,  why  do  you  say 
'O.K.'  to  everything  we  want  to  do?" 


"Why  I  insist  on  Hygeia 
Breast-Shaped  Nipples 


a^l'  a  IIHUllllH 


ORDINARY 

BOTTIE 

NIPPLE 


"No  uii-natiiriil  shaped 
nipples  lor  ine  !   I  lie 
nearest  tliiiif;  to  ruollier's  breast  is  the 
Hygeia  Nipple." 

Hygcia  is  the  nationally  advertised 
bottle  most  widt'ly  used  in  hospital  nur- 
series. It's  tlie  only  bottle  with  nipple 
shaped  like  Mother's  lireast,  aiid  helps 
promote  proper  jaw  and  teeth  formation. 


HycEiA 

NEXT  BEST  TO  MOTHER'S  BREAST 

BABY  DUE  SOON? 


"SKIN  TIGHT,  DRY, 
SLEEP  ROBBED  BY 
ACHING  MUSCLES  ) 

UNTIL  I 
MASSAGED  WITH 
MOTHER'S  FRIEND " 

For  over  80  years  the  thousands  of  expectant 
mothers  who  have  used  it  know  best  about 
MOTHER'S  FRIEND;  how  it  eases  and  relaxes 
cramped,  aching  muscles;  how  it  soothes  and 
eases  tight,  stretched  skin.  Why  not  try  it  now? 
It  takes  only  a  few  minutes  a  day  to  massage 
gently  over  abdomen  and  other  parts  of  the  body 
— makes  such  a  difference  in  your  comfort  dur- 
ing those  last  dragging  months.  Used  faithfully, 
MOTHER'S  FRIEND  should  help  you  regain 
natural  skin  beauty  after  baby  comes.  Only 
$1.25  at  your  favorite  drug  counter. 


FOR 

EXPECTANT 
MOTHERS 

OTHER'S  FRIEND 


Simple 

Quick 

Effective 


n/iaTE 


Dresses  &  suits  for  morning,  street,  afternoon, 
Kdvance\  ^  sports.  $2.95  to  22.50.  Also  matorriity  '  ■ 

FathionsI  corsets  &  lingerie.  (Catalog  mailed  in  plain  envelope.) 

CRAWFORD'S,  Dept.  A,  tOlS  Wornsll,  Kansn  City,  Ma; 


I      \     II     I      I       -  II     II     \|  I. 

Ikil  lie  was  ill  a  mixxi  tti  his  own,  hia  Blrotin 
j:iw  sfl,  his  eyes  fo!!owin^;  the  car.  "L'iii>.',li?" 
lie  s;ii(l,  niviiin  liiT  his  al Iciilimi. 

"  It's  iK-tli-r  1(1  lauuli  tli;m  to  cry." 

ill;  blinked  his  very  blue  cyt'8.  "Lislen, 
Mike 

"Voii  s;ii(l  we'd  v,<>  to  tiie  Central  Park 
Zoo.  Come  on." 

They  crossed  llie  avenue,  walking  in 
step. 

"I  ckm'l  like  lliis  house  deal  any  Ix'tler 
than  you  do,"  he  said.  "I  IIioukIiI  we'd  be 
able  to  cluKise  a  little.  1  was  liMikinn  forward 
to  KoiiiK  house  hunlinj.;  with  you." 

"  Al  least  they're  Iryinn  to  be  decent  about 
it.  lie  could  have  just  sent  you  an  order: 
"You  will  take  your  wife  and  proceed  lo  1()7 
WiMow  Road.  I-'airlea,  Connecticut,  and 
live  there  until  further  notice.'  They  didn't 
li.'ive  lo  ^;ive  us  an  expetisive  lunch." 

Carry  ^;runt(■d. 

In  the  middle  of  the  block,  he  said,  "I 
sup|X)se  it  was  nice  of  Ihein.  He's  a  bi^^ 
wheel." 

"And  you're  a  little  wheel  run  by  faith.  .  . . 
Come  on,  darling!  I  want  lo  net  to  liie  ziki 
and  see  the  animals,  all  in  cages  suited  to 
their  little  income  brackets." 

lie  laughed,  and  she  could  feel  him  turn 
his  head  lo  look  down  al  her. 

I'm  more  worried  about  her  background," 
Harper  Ollivant  said.  "That  fellow— what's 
his  name?  Her  father.  I  remember  that  book 
of  his.  Half  of  it  w-as  dirty  and  the  rest  was 
an  out-and-out  attack  on  Management.  The 
president  kept  spying  on  the  young  man. 
Ridiculous!  What  president  of  a  corpora- 
lion's  got  lime  " 

"I  remember.  I  rather  liked  Ihe  sexy 
parts,"  his  wife  said. 

"What  kind  of  ideas  has  she  got,  a  girl 
brought  up  with  a  father  who  writes  stuff 
like  that?" 

"She'll  either  be  very  good  or  very  bad. 
There's  one  thing:  she's  crazy-mad  in  love 
with  Garry." 

"  Yes,  but  so's  he  with  her.  Never  saw  such 
soupy  looks  as  he  was  giving  her." 

"She's  a  lady.  Whatever  that  is  in  this 
day  and  age.  I  don't  know  how  that'll  go 
with  the  other  wives." 

"She'd  better  come  off  it." 

"She  can't  wear  clothes  like  that,"  Mrs. 
Ollivant  said. 

"Huh?  I  thought  she  looked  all  right." 

"Looked  all  right?  I'll  bet  that  outfit  cost 
Iwo  hundred  dollars.  A  wife  on  her  level  " 

"Damn  it!  Garrison  Fitch  is  one  of  the 
best  young  men  we've  got.  Looked  up  his  file 
this  morning.  Ninety-three  points!  And  here 
he  marries  " 

"  I'll  keep  an  eye  on  her,"  his  wife  said,  as 
the  car  pulled  up  before  the  California-Texas 
Building. 

Amanda  Stowe,  who  was  Garry's  secre- 
tary, came  to  Ihe  Hotel  Harrow  for  cocktails 
because  it  was  only  civil  to  invite  her  and 
because  in  the  regular  course  of  things  she 
and  Michelle  would  have  a  good  deal  to  do 
with  each  other.  She  was  rather  pretty  in  a 
bleak  sort  of  way.  She  wore  a  severe  dark- 
blue  dress,  a  blue  hat  with  a  red  feather,  and 
shoes  that  were  not  quite  sensible. 

She  took  Garry's  hand  in  both  of  hers  and 
tilted  her  head  back  to  look  into  his  eyes. 
"Well!  It  happens  to  the  best -regulated 
bachelors.  It  hasn't  changed  you  much. 
Congratulations ! " 

Garry  laughed  and  patted  her  hand.  "Mi- 
chelle," he  said,  "this  is  Amanda.  I  think 
you'll  like  each  other." 

"I  hear  you're  wonderful,"  Michelle  said. 

Amanda's  gray  eyes  were  a  little  loo  di- 
rect, her  lopsided  smile  a  little  loo  easy. 
"You  have  lo  be  wonderful  if  you  work  for 
this  big  slave  driver.  As  you'll  find  out." 

"Has  a  long  black  whip,  has  he?" 

"Tole  dat  charge,  lif  dal  mail." 

"Which  brings  up  Ihe  subject  of  drink," 
Garry  said.  "Thought  we  could  relax  better 
up  here  than  in  the  cocktail  shop.  I  can  do  a 
Martini  or  a  Manhattan,  and  there's  Scotch." 

"Scotch  and  not  loo  much  soda,  please." 

Michelle  and  Amanda  sal  al  opposite  ends 
of  Ihe  lumpy  sofa,  while  Garry  clattered  and 
clinked  things  in  the  liny  pantry. 


lot 


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1.  \  I)  1   i:  s  •     II   <)  \i   I.     .1  ()  I    i;   N   \  I. 


NANCY  GAGGtN 


"WE  POWERS  MODELS 
USE  ONLY 
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these  famous  Powers  models. 

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feint 

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YOUR  BEAUTY  SHAMPOO 


THE  J.  B    WILLIAMS  COMPANY 


"  I  suppose,"  Michelle  said,  "  I  should  have 
consulted  you  before  I  married  him.  I  under- 
stand nobody  knows  a  man  as  well  as  his 
secretary." 

'■  Depends  on  the  man." 

"And  the  secretary?" 

Amanda  laughed.  "Could  be.  All  I  know 
about  Garry  is  that  he  can't  be  as  good  as 
he  seems.  Nobody  could  be." 

"That's  a  very  fine  compliment." 

"True."  Amanda  shrugged.  "He  never 
has  a  black  mood  or  a  mean  streak  or  a  hang- 
over. You're  a  lucky  girl." 

"I  get  the  same  impression,"  Michelle 
said.  "The  hard  thing  is  going  to  be  living 
up  to  him." 

"I  told  you  you  have  to  be  wonderful." 

Garry  came  in  with  a  cocktail  shaker  in 
one  hand  and  a  highball  and  two  empty 
glasses  in  tlie  other.  He  handed  Amanda  her 
drink.  "You  two  getting  on?" 

"We  have  to,"  Amanda  said.  "  We're  your 
women." 

He  laughed,  pouring  out  the  cocktails. 
"  Here's  to  my  women ! " 

"Our  man!"  Michelle  said,  raising  her 
glass.  They  sipped  together. 

"Oh,  while  I  think  of  it,"  Amanda  said, 
opening  her  pocketbook,  "I've  got  things  to 
give  you,  Michelle."  She  handed  over  en- 
velopes, one  by  one.  "Inventory  of  your 
house  in  Fairlea.  Check  it  over  and  if  any- 
thing's  wrong  let  me  know  and  I'll  have  it 
changed.  .  .  .  The  amusements  list  for  this 
week;  book  and  magazine  lists  with  it.  .  .  . 
And  your  XW  questionnaire." 

"My   ■"  Michelle  said,  staring  at 

Amanda  over  the  third  envelope. 

"XW  questionnaire.  XW  for  Executive's 
Wife.  It  starts  your  XW  file." 

Michelle  put  her  glass  down.  "  You  keep  a 
file  on  each  executive's  wife?" 

"Oh,  not  I.  XW  files  are  top  secret.  Per- 
sonnel keeps  'em  locked  up." 

"  What  goes  into  an  XW  file? " 

"  Everything  from  the  color  of  your  eyes  to 
how  good  a  cook  you  are.  Culture,  hobbies, 
clothes,  family  background,  deportment." 

Michelle  laughed.  "You  mean  to  say  I 
get  a  red  star  for  Effort  and  a  blue  star  for 
Neatness  and  a  black  mark  for  dirty  hands?  " 

"Never  think  you  don't." 

"But  how  Who'd  tell  them?" 

"Little  birds.  The  woods  are  full  of  little 
birds  who  tell  people  things.  You  have  your 
own  say  about  yourself  on  the  questionnaire 
The  rest  of  your  XW  file  depends  on  reports 
and  comments  by  other  people." 

^Michelle  emptied  her  glass  at  a  gulp. 

"  I  don't  know  how  other  big  corporations 
work,  but  Mr.  Ollivant  keeps  a  file  on  every 
employee.  An  X  file  on  Garry,  and  an  XS— 
for  Secretary— file  on  me.  You  get  used  to  it." 

"But  I'm  not  an  employee." 

"That's  what  you  think,"  Amanda  said. 

Garry  laughed.  "So  now  it  comes  out. 
You've  got  deep,  dark  secrets,  have  you, 
Mike?" 

"I  didn't  think  I  had." 

Amanda  said  something  to  Garry  about 
octane  reports,  which  she  would  have  all  di- 
gested for  him  by  Monday  morning.  She  de- 
clined his  offer  of  another  Scotch. 

"I've  got  to  rush,"  Amanda  said.  "Hav- 
ing dinner  with  a  brand-new  man. . . .  Crazy- 
colossal  meeting  you,  Michelle,  and  thanks 
for  asking  me.  We'll  be  talking."  Her  lop- 
sided smile  lingered  in  the  doorway  after  her, 
like  the  Cheshire  cat's. 

Michelle  said.  "You  didn't  tell  me  she  was 
in  love  with  you." 

Garry's  blue  eyes  opened  wide.  "In  love? 
You're  imagining  things,  Mike." 

"Oh,  no.  I  wish  I  were." 

"She's  been  my  secretary  for  two — nearly 
three  years,  and  never  a  sign  of  anything  of 
the  kind." 

"Maybe  she's  very  patient.  Anyway,  she 
couldn't  do  much  about  it  until  you  gave  her 
a  chance.  .  .  .  She  came  here  today  prepared 
to  hate  me." 

"And  didn't  succeed,"  he  said,  picking  up 
the  shaker.  "What's  the  difference?  I  love 
you." 

"And  I  love  you,  my  darling ! "  She  threw 
herself  into  his  arms  without  giving  him  time 
to  put  down  the  shaker  and  the  glasses. 


They  moved  into  the  house  in  Fairlea  on 
Saturday  morning. 

No.  167  Willow  Road  was  a  neat  white 
house  with  green  blinds,  twenty  feet  from 
165  (yellow  with  white  blinds)  on  one  side 
and  169  (timbered  stucco:  Elizabethan-sub- 
urban) on  the  other.  The  road  curved,  as 
Mrs.  Ollivant  had  promised,  and  had  naked 
young  trees  (maples?)  precisely  set  in  the 
mud  space  between  the  curb  and  the  side- 
walk. The  house  numbers  were  of  gleaming 
brass  to  match  the  Early  American  knocker. 

Michelle  carried  a  hatbox  and  her  dressing 
case.  Garry  followed  her,  not  even  grunting 
with  his  burden  of  four  suitcases.  She  put 
down  the  box  and  held  up  the  key. 

"It  calls  for  some  sort  of  ceremony,"  she 
said. 

"  I  ought  to  carry  you  across  the  thresh- 
old." 
"Wait!" 

She  unlocked  the  door,  swung  it  open,  and 
stepped  mto  the  little  hall  that  smelled  of 
furniture  jx)lish.  She  dropped  the  things  she 
was  carrying  and  laughed  up  at  Garry. 

"Come  in,  Mr.  Fitch.  Mrs.  Fitch  is  ex- 
pecting you.  .  .  .  There.  Now  put  down 
those  suitcases  and  close  the  door.  .  .  . 
Good.  You  might  take  off  your  hat.  .  .  . 
Now!" 

The  ceremony  was  adequate:  it  left  her 
out  of  breath  and  his  mouth  smeared  with 
lipstick. 

They  walked  through  the  house,  hand  in 
hand.  The  living  room,  spotless,  done  in 
greens  and  tans,  with  good  department-store 


furniture.  The  small  dining  room:  six  chairs, 
an  oval  table,  a  glass-fronted  cabinet  with 
bright  china  and  sparkling  glass. 

"Wonder  where  the  people  are,"  Garry 
said.  "Nice  of  them  to  ask  us  to  drop  in, 
but  " 

"Transferred.  Transformed.  Translated. 
Not  ten  minutes  ago.  Mr.  Ollivant  waved 
his  magic  wand.  Up  the  ladder,  down  the 
ladder,  into  thin  air.  Poof!" 


Mt's  a  little  creepy  to  me.  Keep  expecting 
somebody  to  come  downstairs  and  tell  us 
to  get  out.  Let's  see  the  kitchen." 

"Do  you  realize  you  didn't  ask  me  if 
could  cook?" 

"Can  you?" 

"Yes,  now  that  you  inquire.  Daddy  lik( 
variety,  all  sorts  of  odd  dishes,  and  Carol  and 
I  used  to  take  turns  in  the  kitchen  on  the 
maid's  nights  out.  Mum's  a  terrible  cook; 
too  much  interested  in  her  weaving,  all 
warps  and  wefts  and  shuttles  and  heddles 
and  designs.  .  .  .  But  you're  just  lucky.  The 
next  time  you  fall  in  love,  ask  the  girl  point- 
blank  how  she  is  in  the  kitchen." 

"The  next  time!"  he  said,  and  got  his 
mouth  smeared  with  lipstick  again. 

The  kitchen  was  like  a  color  page  in  a  mag- 
azine, all  gleaming  while  enamel  and  shiny 
metal,  green  asphalt  tile  on  the  floor  and 
green-and-white  chintz  curtains. 

"Look!"  Garry  said,  holding  the  refriger- 
ator door  open,  and  Michelle  came  over  to 
stare. 

(Conliiiiied  on  Page  122) 


ill 


The  Oak 

Hy  XaV  A  iiins 
I 

I  am  the  invincible,  the  tallest  oak 
That  eye  can  find  on  this  long  riverbank. 
Hundreds  of  years  ago  the  seedling  sank 
Into  this  rich  abundant  river-watered  ground 
Where  now  like  vines  of  stone  my  roots  have  thrown 
A  cloud  of  leaves  aerial  as  smoke- 
As  high  above  the  earth  as  chimney  smoke— 
From  their  dark  earth-ends  underneath  the  grass 
Where  field  hands  rest,  their  tired  backs  to  my  trunk, 
Or  lovers  later  lie,  or  hunters  pass. 

Time's  passing  that  has  seen  great  houses  shrunk— 
As  harvest  followed  seedtime,  day  the  dark— 
And  battles  lost  and  forests  felled  or  drowned 
And  generations  vanish,  has  but  blown 
My  foliage  into  richer  fullness,  fed 
To  richer  heaviness  my  horn-hard  bark. 
Strengthened  and  lengthened  every  leaf-rich  bough 
In  which  the  birds  have  nested,  sung,  and  flown; 
Spared  even  by  the  lightning  until  now 
And  ever  lifting  nearer  heaven  my  head- 
Why  should  I  not  be  proud,  knowing  that  I 
Shall  stand  though  all  I  see  and  shelter  die 
As  long  as  river  waters  seaward  run, 
As  long  as  moon  and  stars  succeed  the  sun? 

II 

O  proud,  proud  Tree — you  do  not  know,  alas!— 
The  dark  secretive  stream  that  on  its  way 
Lay  waste  to  lowlands  that  were  corn  and  grass 
And  brought  down  highlands  that  were  stone  and  clay. 
Has  sent  its  treachery  against  your  hill 
To  work  the  hollow  which  your  strong  roots  fill, 
Now  tethered  only  by  a  little  earth 
Which  shall  be  air  tomorrow.  ...  So  you  stand- 
still beautiful,  still  proud,  your  leaves  agleam, 
As  unaware  that  you  are  based  in  dearth 
As  any  mortal  standing  in  a  dream- 
Unconscious  of  the  doom  secretive  fate  has  planned. 


\   l>   I  I 


II     II     M  I 


I    II  I 


12  1 


9 


Scientific  proof!  Tracer  Metliod  tecliniquc 
(above)  pro\-ps  New  Fresh  Cream  Deodorant 
superior  in  keeping  underarms  dry. 


Philip  Hulitar  designed  her  gown  and  mantle  of  Parma  blue  faille.  Her  deodorant,  sure  New  Fresh. 


gentle  JVEW  FRESH  will  give  y mi  Jip  to  180%  more  nnderarrn  protection 
than  other  leading  cream  deodorants.  Proved  by  university  scientists! 

Now  the  greatest  improvement  in  deodorants 
in  years  is  in  New  Fresh  Cream  Deodorant. 
By  a  skillful  change  in  formula,  New  Fresh  is 
now  up  to  180!?  more  effective  than  other  lead- 
ing cream  deodorants!  It  outperfonns  all  the 
others  tested  in  keeping  underarms  dry.  It 
stops  odor  completely!  Never  sticky,  it's  creamy 
soft  and  as  extra-gentle  to  skin  as  ever! 


Superior  new  formula!  Tracer  Method  Tests 
made  in  a  famous  universitv  laborator\'  prove 
that  the  gentle  new  moisture-control  fonnula 
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in  astringent  action  to  other  leadincr  cream 
deodorants!  And  it's  the  astringent  action  in 
deodorants  that  keeps  underarms  dry .  .  . 
actually  keeps  you  and  vour  clothes  safer ! 


A/cw  Thksk  keeps  ^cha.  |_otAefi*j  -h>  Lex*^  J(6AAj<XAjC 


Sure,  yet  gentle!  Stops  underarm 
odor  instantly,  keeps  underanns  dry. 
Creiimy,  gentle.  Safe  for  fabrics.  Use 
New  Fresh  Cream  Deodorant  dail\ . 

Fresh  is  also  manufactured  and  distributed  in  Conoda. 


122 


I.  \  i>  I  E  s '     11  o  \i  i;     I  <>  u  a  \  \  r, 


May,  m 


FUN  AND 
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Shears,  Metal  Cutting  Snips  and  Garden  Shears. 


(Conlinued  from  Page  120) 

There  were  milk  and  cream  and  eggs.  The 
freezing  compartment  was  packed  with 
frozen  vegetables,  frozen  fruit,  a  frozen  pie. 
And  on  the  lower  shelf  two  steaks  nestled 
side  by  side,  with  a  card  in  wax  paper. 

"Really!"  Michelle  said,  and  picked  up 
the  card.  "'Best  wishes,' "she  read,  "'from 
the  Calitex  Family.'  .  .  .  I'm  going  to  write 
Mr.  Ollivant  a  nice  family  note." 

They  were  coming  down  the  stairs,  still 
exclaiming  over  the  fact  that  someone  had 
even  made  the  beds  in  the  corner  room,  when 
the  doorbell  rang. 

"The  cops!"  Garry  said,  scrubbing  his 
lips  with  a  handkerchief. 

It  was  three  giggling  women. 

"Good  morning,"  Michelle  said. 

They  all  started  to  speak  at  once,  all 
stopped  abruptly,  all  took  to  giggling  again. 
Nudged  forward  by  the  others,  the  little 
dark  one  with  a  pointed  face  said,  "Good 
morning.  Are  you  Mrs.  Garrison  Fitch?" 

"Yes,  that's  right,"  Michelle  said. 

"  I'm — that  is,  we're  some  of  the  Calitex 
wives  here  in  Fairlea.  We  thought  " 

"Oh!"  Michelle  backed  into  the  hall, 
holding  the  door  open.  "  Do  come  in.  You're 
our  first  guests." 

Garry  moved  up,  very  pink  and  uncom- 
fortable, and  shifted  the  baggage  out  of  the 
way. 

"My  husband,"  Michelle  said,  as  the  vis- 
itors moved  in. 

"H'rooo,"  Garry  gulped,  and  sprang  for- 
ward to  catch  the  plump  streaky  blonde  as 
she  tripped  over  the  door- 
sill.  He  took  their  coats. 

Michelle  waved  them  in 
and  they  clustered  before 
the  fireplace.  "Nice  of  you 
to  drop  in,"  she  said. 
"Garry  and  I  only  just 
got  here." 

The  pointed-faced  wom- 
an   (who    needed  noth- 
ing but  larger  eyes  to  look  exactly  like  a 
mouse)  said,  "Better  introduce  ourselves. 
This  is  Nettie— Jeanette,   that   is— Car- 
raway." 

The  lumpy  blonde  showed  even,  white, 
synthetic  teeth  and  swallowed. 
"And  Alice  Young." 

The  square-jawed  one  with  red  hands  and 
the  build  of  a  second  baseman  came  to  life 
suddenly.  Her  grin  was  warm  with  cheerful 
friendliness.  "Welcome  to  Fairlea,"  she  said. 

"And  I'm  Shirley  Parrish."  said  the  mouse. 
"Everybody  calls  me  Toots." 

"Won't  you  all  sit  down?  Or  would  you 
like  to  see  the  house?  " 

"Oh,  we've  seen  it.  Lots  of  times,  when 
the  poor  Coo  vers  had  it." 

"The  poor  "  Michelle  repeated. 

Nettie  and  I  were  over  this  morning  and 
made  the  beds,"  Mrs.  Young  said,  grinning 
again.  "Thought  it'd  look  homier  for  a 
young  bride  moving  in.  Oh!"  She  reached 
into  a  pocket  in  her  dress.  "Here's  a  key. 
Pete  borrowed  it  from  Mr.  Roe  yesterday, 
so  we  could  get  in." 

"Everybody's  been  so  kind,"  Michelle 
said,  "I  hardly  know  what  to  say.  I  could 
start  with  thank  you  for  the  beds  and  lor 
coming  in  to  greet  us.  Please  sit  down." 

"Kindness  doesn't  count,"  Toots  Parrish 
said  cryptically. 

"One  big,  happy  family,"  Nettie  Carra- 
way  murmured. 

"  Do  you  all  live  nearby?  "  Michelle  asked. 

"We're  on  Elm  Road,  almost  straight  be- 
hind your  house,"  Mrs.  Parrish  said.  "The 
Carraways  are  down  the  street  here,  on  the 
other  side." 

"And  we're  on  Maple."  Mrs.  Young 
grinned.  "  I  like  Maple  Road  because  it  has 
beech  trees  and  Willow  Road  has  maples. 
Elm  has  elms."  She  sat  beside  Mrs.  Carra- 
way  on  the  love  seat. 

"Are  there  lots  of  Calitex  families  here?" 

"Only  ten  or  a  dozen,"  Mrs.  Parrish  said. 
"The  corporation's  just  moving  in.  They 
used  to  assign  junior  executives  to  Sutter- 
ville  in  Westchester,  but  it  got  awfully 
grubby.  Fairlea's  a  longer  trip,  but  it's  nicer." 

"They  had  us  in  Higgins,  Long  Island,  be- 
fore Pete  got  his  promotion,"  Mrs.  Young 


E3EIEIIiIEIE!E3BQe 

We  do  not  know  what  is 
really  good  or  bad  fortune. 

—ROUSSEAU 

E!  E]  EI  EI  El  Q  Q  Q  El  El 


said.  "What  a  hole!  Twenty-third  Street 
with  mud." 

"You're  in  Personnel,  aren't  you,  Mr. 
Fitch?"  Mrs.  Carraway  asked. 

"Oh,  no.  I'm  in  Research,  under  Produc- 
tion," Garry  said.  "I  help  Mr.  Laney  keep 
the  chemists  unhappy." 

"Oh.  Then  you  must  know  Charley  Hob- 
den.  He's  in  Research." 

' '  Charley  Hobden  ?  Of  course.  Does  he  live 
in  Fairlea?" 

"Not  for  long,"  Mrs.  Young  said. 
"They're  moving  him  up  the  ladder.  He's 
about  due  for  Greenwich." 

"That's  right.  I  heard  he  was  being  pro- 
moted, just  before  I  left  for  California.  Good 
for  him." 

"Xow  maybe  she'll  be  able  to  afford  those 
clothes  she's  wears,"  Toots  Parrish  said. 

"She  makes  them  herself,"  Mrs.  Carraway 
said. 

"Thato  her  story.  Doesn't  do  to  have 
'extravagance'  in  your  XW  file."  Mrs.  Par- 
rish's  smile  showed  rodent  teeth. 

"They  expect  you  to  look  presentable." 
Mrs.  Carraway  flicked  at  the  print  dress  she 
was  wearing.  "But  you're  not  supposed  to 
spend  money  on  clothes." 

"I'll  never  forget  the  time,"  Mrs.  Young 
said,  "my  dad  had  a  little  windfall  and  sent 
me  a  check.  I  went  to  Yvette's  on  Fifth 
Avenue  for  a  dress  and  ran  smack-dab  into 
Mrs.  Ollivant!" 

"What  did  she  say?  "  Toots  Parrish  asked. 
"She  said,  'Oh!'  Just  'Oh!'" 

Michelle  said,  "  I  wish  I 
could  offer  you  tea  or  cake 
or  something." 

"We  can't  stay."  Mrs. 
Carraway  got  to  her  feet. 
"Just  dropped  in  to  wel- 
come you  and  tell  you  to 
ask  us  for  anything  you 
need."  Mrs.  Young  stood 
up  too.  "I'll  show  you 
the  markets  and  shops  and  things  this  after- 
noon, if  you  like." 

"Oh,  thank  you.  I  thought  Garry  and  I 
would  go  downtown  and  prowl  around." 

"You'll  find  the  Shop  List  in  the  kitchen," 
Toots  Parrish  said. 
"Shop  List?" 

"Approved  places.  There  are  some  the 
corporation  doesn't  like  us  to  patronize." 
"Oh.  I'll  study  it." 

Garry  helped  them  with  their  coats  and 
Michelle  pumped  up  spirit  to  gabble  cor- 
dialities. 

Mrs.  Carraway  turned  in  the  doorway. 
"Oh,  I  knew  there  was  something  else:  the 
television's  at  our  house  tonight.  One-oh- 
eight  Willow  Road.  About  eight." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  but  I  don't  think  " 

"They  have  us  get  together  for  the  show. 
For  group  reactions,"  Mrs.  Parrish  ex- 
plained, "and  discussion." 

Garry  showed  signs  of  intelligence.  "Oh, 
of  course.  Saturday  night.  'Hijinx  on  the 
Highways.'  The  Calitex  Show,  dear.  Public 
Relations  likes  everybody  to  send  in  com- 
ment cards." 

"We  take  turns  having  the  gang  in,"  Mrs. 
Young  said.  "I'm  next  week." 

"About  eight,  Mrs.  Carraway?"  Garry 
asked. 

"Any  time  after  half  past  seven." 
"Good.  Nice  of  you  to  ask  us.  We'll  be 
there." 

Michelle  said,  "Thank  you,"  once  more, 
but  no  sound  came  from  her  lips. 

Garry  closed  the  door.  He  said,  "  It  was— 
uh— nice  of  them  to  call." 

"Wasn't  it?" 

"Except  that  I'm  offering  seventeen  to 
two  that  they  were  ordered  to." 

She  stared  at  him.  "Do  you  really 
mean  " 

"Calitex  Family.  The  old  Team  Spirit.  Or 
else."  He  stuffed  his  hands  into  his  trousers 
pockets.  "I  don't  know.  I  didn't  mind  it 
when  I  was  a  bachelor,  but  I  hate  to  put  you 
through  it." 

"Oh,  well.  It's  not  forever." 

"Tonight  the  husbands,"  Garry  said. 
"Parrish  must  be  the  fellow  in  Retail  Out- 
lets I've  met  a  couple  of  times." 

(Continued  on  PaB.e  124) 


SEE  WHITE  SEWING  MACHINES 
AT  THESE  FINE  STORES 


ALABAMA 

Birmingham 

Loveman,  Joseph  &  Loeb 

Mobile  Hammers 

Montgomery. . .  .Montgomery  Fair 

ARIZONA 

Phoenix  Korriclc's 

ARKANSAS 

Fort  Smith  Boston  Store 

Little  Rocli  Gus  Blass  Co. 

CALIFORNIA 

Fresno  Gottschalk's 

Los  Angeles  The  Broadway 

(Vtay  Co. 

Oakland  Capwelt's 

Sacramento   Hale's,  9th  &  K  Sts. 

San  Diego  Walker's 

San  Francisco  The  Emporium 

Macy's 

San  Jose  Hart's 

Stockton  Dunlap's 

COLORADO 

Denver  The  May  Co. 

CONNECTICUT 

Bridgeport .  Howland  Dry  Goods  Co. 

Hartford  G.  Fox  a  Co. 

New  Haven  Malley's 

Norwich  Reid  &  Hughes 

Waterbury  Howland  Hughes 

DISTRICT  OF  COLUMBIA 

Washington  Lansburgh's 

FLORIDA 

Ft.  Lauderdale  Burdine's 

Jacksonville  Cohen  Brothers 

Miami   Burdine's 

Orlando  Ivey's  of  Orlando 

St  Petersburg. ..  .Maas  Brolhers 
Tampa  liflaas  Brothers 

GEORGIA 

Atlanta.  Rich's 

Columbus  Kirven's 

Macon  Belk-Matthews  Co. 

ILLINOIS 

Chicago.  .Carson  Pirie Scott  &  Co. 

Wieboldt's 

Elgin  Joseph  Spiess  Company 

Peoria  Block  &  Kuhl  Company 

INDIANA 

Anderson  Banner  Store 

Evansville  Schear's 

Fort  Wayne  Wall  &  Dessauer 

Indianapolis. . .  .L.  S.  Ayres  &  Co. 

IOWA 

Cedar  Rapids  Killian  Co. 

Davenport 

Petersen-Harned'Von  Maur 

Des  Moines  Davidson's 

Younker's 

Dubuque  Stampfer's 

Sioux  City  Martin's 

Younker-Davidson  Co. 
Waterloo  Black's 

KANSAS 

Topeka  Crosby  Bros. 

Wichita  Hinkel's 

Innes 

KENTUCKY 

Louisville  Kaufman-Straus  Co. 

LOUISIANA 

Baton  Rouge  Dalton's 

New  Orleans 

D.  H.  Holmes  Co.,  Ltd. 

Krauss  Co. 

Shreveport  Rubenslein's 

MAINE 

Lewislon  Peck's 

Portland  While  Sewing 

Machine  Corp.,  82  Exchange 

MARYLAND 

Baltimore  The  May  Company 

MASSACHUSETTS 

Boston  R.  H.  White's 

Brockton  Edgar's 

Fall  River  McWhirr's 

Holyoke,  McAuslan  &  Wakelin  Co. 

Lawrence  Sutherland's 

Lowell  The  Bon  Marchg 

Maiden  Joslin's 

New  Bedford  Stat  Store 

Pittsfield  England  Brothers 

Salem  Webber's 

Springfield  Forbes  &  Wallace 

Waltham  Grover  Cronin 

Worcester  Maclnnes 

MICHIGAN 

Battle  Creek  L.  W.  Robinson  Co. 

Detroit  Crowley's 

The  Ernst  Kern  Company 
White  Sewing  Machine  Corp. 

(1437  Farmer  St.) 

Flint  Smith-Bridgman's 

Grand  Rapids  Wurzburg's 

Lansing.  .J.  W.  Knapp  Company 
Muskegon .  Hardy- Herpolsheimer's 
Pontiac  Waite's 

MINNESOTA 

Duluth  Freimuth's 

Minneapolis  Donaldson's 

St-  Paul  Schuneman's 


MISSOURI 

KansasCity.  .Emery,  Bird.Thayd 
The  Jones  Stor 
Peck' 

Springfield   Heer' 

St.  Joseph  .Townsend  &  Wall  Cc 
St.  Louis   Famous-Barr  C( 

NEW  HAMPSHIRE  | 

Manchester  Leavitt' 

NEW  JERSEY 

Newark  Hahne  &  Cc 

Paterson  Quackenbush'  ; 

Trenton  Swern'i  '. 

NEW  YORK  ) 

Albany  Whitney' 

Binghamton. Fowler, Dick&Walke^  I 
Brooklyn... . .  .Abraham  &  Strau 

Buffalo  J.  N.  Adam  S  Co 

Hengerer' 

Flushing  Gert 

Hempstead  Abraham  &  Strau 

Jamaica  Gerl 

Newburgh  Schoonmake 

New  York  (Manhattan) 

Gimbel  Brothers  Inc 
Hearn 
McCreer' 

New  York  (Bronx).  Hearn 

Niagara  Falls    J.  N.  Adam  &  Co 

Rochester  McCurdy' 

Sibley,  Lindsay  &  Curr  Co 

Schenectady  Wallace'' 

Syracuse   Dey  Bros 

Utica  J.  B.  Wells  &  Son  Co 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

Charlotte  Belk ; 

Greensboro  Meyer': 

OHIO  ' 

Akron  O'Neil'! 

Canton  Stark'! 

Cincinnati  Alms  &  Doepke'i 

Shilllto'! 

Cleveland  The  May  Compan> 

Wm.  Taylor  Son  &  Co. 

Columbus  Lazarus 

Dayton  Rike's 

Toledo  LaSalle's 

Warien  Strouss-Griswold'! 

Youngstown  .SIrouss-Hirshberg's 

OKLAHOMA 

Oklahoma  City  .  John  A.  Brown  Co. 
Tulsa  Brown-Dunkin 

OREGON 

Portland  Meier  S  Frank  Co. 

PENNSYLVANIA 

Allentown  H.  Leh  &  Co. 

Altoona  Gable's 

Erie  Boston  Sloft 

Harrisburg  Pomeroy's 

Johnstown  Penn  Traffic 

Lancaster  Hager's 

Lebanon  The  Bon  Ton 

New  Castle  New  Castle  Store 

Philadelphia  Lit  Brother; 

Snellenburg*! 

Pittsburgh  Kaufmann's 

Reading  Pomeroy's 

Scranton.Scranton  Dry  Goods  Co. I  ^ 

Sharon  The  Sharon  Store 

Wilkes-Barre  Pomeroy's 

Williamsport .  L.  L.  Stearns  &  Sons 
York.   Wiesl's 

RHODE  ISLAND 

Pawtucket  Sharlenberg's| 

Providence  The  Outlet  Co.) 

SOUTH  CAROLINA 

Greenville  Belk-SimpsonJ 

TENNESSEE 

Chattanooga  Lovemans  j 

Knoxville  George's  i 

Memphis  Goldsmith's 

Nashville  Harveys 

TEXAS 

Beaumont 

White  House  Dry  Goods  Co. 

Corpus  Christi  Lichtenslein's 

Dallas  Titche-Goellingei  ' 

Fort  Worth  Stripling's 

Houston  Foley's 

San  Antonio  Joske's 

Waco  Goldstein-Migel  Co. 

UTAH 

Salt  Lake  City  Auerbach's 

VIRGINIA 

Norfolk  Ames  S  Brownley 

Richmond  Miller  &  Rhoads 

Roanoke  Pugh's 

WASHINGTON 

Seattle  Frederick  &  Nelson 

Spokane  The  Crescent 

Tacoma  Rhodes 

WEST  VIRGINIA 

Charleston. .  .Coyle  &  Ri^'-ardson 
Wheeling  Stone  &  Thomas 

WISCONSIN 

Milwaukee  Schuster's 


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124 


I,   A    I)    T    K    S  '       H    ()    M    K       J    O    U    R    N   A  L 


May,  1953 


They  put  that  ^lOO  gleam  in  their 


hair  with 


r 


Janie  King  of  E.  St.  Louis,  111., 
says,  "Lady  Wiklroot  Shampoo  gets 
my  scalp  pink-clean  .  . .  washes  away 
flirt  and  prime  in  a  twinkling. ..gleams 
my  hair  without  a  special  rinse." 


Here  are  four  winners  in  Wildroot's 

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Feel  how  silky  soft  it  leaves  your  hair. 

Try  Lady  Wildroot  Shampoo — and  find 

the  hidden  gleam  in  your  hair  !  « 


Elizabeth  Jane  Lewis  of 
Denver,  Col.,  says,  "Lady 
Wildroot  Shampoo  makes 
my  hair  so  soft . . .  it's  fun 
to  use  the  same  grown-up 
shampoo  Mommy  does." 


Lorraine  Sansom,  New 
Brunswick,  Can.,  says,  "Lady 
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Lorna  Kelly,  East  Orange, 
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Shampoo  is  so  quick-sudsing 
my  hair  gets  cleaner  sooner, 
stays  cleaner  longer." 


a(ji\^ilc|roofiarnp**i'.T^ 


V.,. «'■■ 


Send  a  snap 


.hot  or  photo  (not  larp.- 


ha 


r  using 


than  8x10  inc 
plus  a  Lady 


V,  ildrool  Shampoo 
189,  New 


ildroot  Shampo 
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Three  Sizes 
i9(  59t  98|< 


(Continued  from  Page  122) 
"Poor  him!" 

"Oh,  she  didn't  seem  so  bad." 

"No  worse  than  the  Black  Death.  There's 
something  about  her  that  gives  me  the 
creeps." 

"  I  suppose  it's  like  the  Army.  You  accept 
the  people  you're  stuck  with."  He  followed 
her  into  the  living  room.  "Sorry  I  forgot  to 
warn  you  about  the  TV  meetings.  The 
bachelors  used  to  make  a  small  binge  of  it 
and  lake  it  in  their  stride." 

"What  if  you  have  something  else  to  do 
on  a  Saturday  night?" 

"You're  supposed  to  keep  Saturdays  free. 
There's  a  space  on  the  comment  card  for  an 
explanation  in  case  you  miss  the  show." 

" '  Please  excuse  Michelle  for  being  absent. 
She  was  laid  up  with  an  acute  case  of 
agoraphobia.' " 

He  dropped  down  beside  her  on  the  sofa 
and  took  her  hand.  "Darling,  it's  a  mighty 
good  job  with  a  wonderful  future.  We'll 
manage  somehow." 

She  tried  to  smile  at  him.  "I  won't  have 
tantrums,  Garry.  I'll  be  good.  But  I  had  sort 
of  dreamed  of  living  with  my  husband  and 
having  babies  and  bringing  them  up.  The 
Fitch  Family's  all  the  family  I  want." 

He  held  her  hand  against  his  cheek.  "  We'll 
be  the  Filch  Family  and  we'll  have  our  ba- 
bies and  " 

"Only  if  we  gel  permission  in  writing  from 
Mr.  Ollivant.  Babies  are  personnel,  after  all." 

He  laughed.  "Believe  it  or  not,  the  corpo- 
ration likes  babies.  Stabilizing  influence. 

Young  parents  "  He  stared  over  her 

shoulder  and  she  turned  her  head  in  lime  to 
sec  a  big  gray  sedan  pull  up  before  the  house. 

"Oh,  golly!  What  now?"  she  asked. 

They  watched  in  silence.  A  wide  woman 
in  a  fur  coat  got  out  of  the  car.  She  brought 
out  a  huge  flower  box.  They  could  see  her 
face  as  she  started  up  the  walk. 

It  was  the  bri"hl  face  of  A-Irs.  Harper  Olli- 
vant. 

She  was  brighter  than  ever.  She  kissed 
Michelle's  cheek.  She  chattered  gaily  about 
the  Little  Nest.  She  bustled  through  to  the 
kitchen  and,  knowing  precisely  (and  lerrify- 
ingly )  where  to  find  what  she  wanted,  busied 
herself  arranging  one  vase  of  yellow  irises  and 
another  of  the  multicolored  tulips.  She  di- 
rected Garry  in  placing  them,  one  on  the 
living-room  table,  the  other  on  the  desk. 

"You  must  grow  your  own  flowers,  my 
dear,"  she  said.  "Nothing  like  flowers  to 
make  a  house  homey,  and  nothing  like  gar- 
dening for  light  exercise." 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  know  the  first 
thing  " 

"\  ou'll  learn.  I'll  give  you  the  name  of  a 
wonderful  book.  We  take  a  lot  of  pride  in  the 
corporation  homes,  outside  as  well  as  in. 
Like  them  to  look  spick-and-span  and 
happy.  I'm  afraid  you'll  find  the  garden  a 
little  run  down,  but  you  can  get  fertilizer  at 
the  market." 

"Wliat  happened  to  the  Coovers?"  Mi- 
chelle asked. 

Mrs.  Ollivant  stared  at  her. 

"Mrs.  Carraway  said  something  about 
the  poor  Coovers." 

"Oh."  Mrs.  Ollivant  seated  herself  on  the 
love  seat.  "  I'm  afraid  they  didn't  work  out. 
Mrs.  Coover  couldn't  adjust  herself.  He  was 

a  promising  young  man  but  She  didn't 

like  Fairlea  and  she  simply  wouldn't  get 
along  with  the  rest  of  The  Family.  She  was 
always  running  to  town  and  dropping  in  at 
the  office  to  get  her  husband  to  take  her  to 
lunch  or  dinner,  having  his  secretary  run  er- 
rands for  her.  ...  No  use  letting  a  thing  like 
that  drift  into  something  really  serious.  Mr. 
Coover  agreed  they'd  never  make  a  go  of  it 
at  Calitex." 

"Oh,"  Michelle  said.  "  I  was  afraid  they'd 
died  in  the  house  or  something." 

"We're  going  to  like  living  in  Fairlea," 
Garry  said.  "  It's  a  fine  house." 

"I've  never  seen  such  thoughtfulness," 
Michelle  said.  "Food  in  the  refrigerator,  the 
beds  made  " 

"Attended  to  that,  diti  they?  Mrs. 
Young's  very  co-operative.  By  the  way,  did 
you  find  the  Suggested  Budget?  It's  in  the 
middle  desk  drawer." 


"We've  only  just  got  here.  I  haven't 
opened  a  drawer  in  the  house." 

"You'll  find  the  budget  helpful.  It's  an- 
other of  Mr.  Ollivant's  worry-savers.  Beau- 
tifully worked  out,  very  detailed.  It  breaks 
down  Garry's  salary  after  taxes  withheld, 
shows  exactly  what  you  can  afford  to  spend 
on  each  item  each  month.  You're  not  obliged 
to  follow  it,  of  course,  and  yet  if  you  get  too 

far  away  from  it   Well,  a  word  to  the 

wise." 

"We'll  study  it  tonight,"  Garry  said. 

"After  the  television."  Mrs.  Ollivant  re- 
minded him. 

"That's  right.  We're  going  to  the  Carra- 
ways'." 

]Mrs.  ollivant  smiled  brightly.  "What  a 
lovely  dress,  Michelle!" 

"Oh,  do  you  like  it?  We  were  married  in 
such  a  hurry  I  hadn't  much  time  to  pick  out 
a  trousseau.  Daddy  gave  me  a  check  and  I 
dashed  down  to  Los  Angeles  and  did  the  best 
I  could." 

"You  have  marvelous  taste.  ...  By  the 
way— you  don't  mind  if  I  make  a  sugges- 
tion? I  never  interfere  in  the  private  lives 
of  my  girls.  But  there's  such  a  lot  to  learn. 
So  if  you  don't  mind  a  word  of  advice  " 

"I  should  say  not." 

"This  matter  of  clothes,  dear.  I  don't 
know  if  you  noticed  what  the  others  were 
wearing  when  they  called  this  morning.  You 
see,  the  budget  doesn't  allow  the  wives  of 
junior  executives  much,  and — well,  no 
woman  can  help  being  a  little  envious  at 
limes.  Not  of  me,  you  know.  Our  people  un- 
derstand that  in  the  higher  brackets   

But  if  I  were  you,  I'd  keep  my  nice  things  for 
vacations  and  trips.  Here  in  Fairlea  I'd  wear 
practical,  inexpensive  clothes.  Just  to  avoid 
any  unpleasantness,  my  dear." 

"^^'ell,  naturally  I'd  hate  to  have  anyone 
think  I  was  putting  on  airs.  If  " 

"  I  knew  you'd  be  sensible,"  Mrs.  Ollivant 
said.  "You  can't  fool  me  about  people." 

Which  was  exactly  what  Michelle  had 
been  thinking  uncomfortably. 

Garry  was  grim  when  he  came  back  from 
the  door. 

"W'hat's  the  matter,  darling?"  Michelle 
asked. 

'T'm  a  worm,"  he  said.  "You  could  dig  up 
better  specimens  in  the  back  yard." 
"Garry ! " 

"What  that  old  battle-ax  needs  is  some- 
body to  spit  in  her  eye." 

Michelle  laughed.  "I  quote  my  one  and 
only  husband:  'It's  a  mighty  good  job  with 
a  wonderful  future.'  If  you  played  your  cards 
right,  you  could  get  a  pretty  special  kiss." 

They  were  home  from  the  television  party 
before  ten  o'clock. 

"You  don't  think  we  should  have  stayed 
longer?"  Garry  asked. 

"We  had  a  good  excuse,  just  getting  set- 
tled," she  said,  as  he  took  her  coat  and  hung 
it  in  the  hall  closet.  "Anyway,  it  gives  them 
plenty  of  time  to  talk  about  us.  Think  what 
fun  they're  having  right  this  minute." 

"M-m-m-m.  I  suppose." 

"You  know  very  well.  Me  without  practi- 
cal, inexpensive  clothes.  You  and  your 
snooty  Princeton.  .  .  .  Take  the  big  chair, 
please.  I'm  going  to  sit  in  your  lap." 

"The  Fitch  Family,"  he  said,  as  she  wrig- 
gled into  the  curve  of  his  arm. 

"The  Fitch  Family  as  of  now.  Darling,  I 
do  want  a  baby.  Little  Garry.  I  want  sev- 
eral, if  you'd  like  to  know.  Little  Garry  and 
Harry  and  Larry  and  Barry." 

"No  Little  Mike?" 

"Oh.  yes.  A  liberal  sprinkling  of  females." 

"  Don't  you  think  we'd  better  kind  of  get 
settled  first?" 

"  I  suppose  so.  But  next  year  " 

"Next  year's  a  deal.  Maybe  I'll  get  a  pro- 
motion by  then  and  we'll  be  able  to  afford 
Little  Garry." 

"There  must  be  room  for  him  on  the 
budget.  The  Carraways  have  two  and  Mrs. 
Young  is  expecting  her  third.  I  want  my 
children  while  I'm  young,  so  I  won't  be  too 
old  when  they're  grown  up." 

"You  plan  ahead,  don't  you?" 

"  I  am  an  XW.  I  plan  and  I  execute." 

"  Were  you  planning  to  be  kissed?  " 


I .  Al  C'ariiiway  scfiiicd 
lum  I'nrrisli  was  roai- 


<i|>ri  ill  inj^. 

iiU',  laiH'.h- 


"Yes,"  she  said.  .  .  .  When  she  not  lier 
breath,  she  asked,  "Wliat  on  earlh  are  we 
Koinn  to  say  about  thai  awful  iilcvisioii 
show?  " 

"'l"he  otliers  loved 
to  he  convulsed  and 
inK" 

"Thai's  what  we  call  (< 
Didn't  yon  hear  my  merry,  I  ml 
ter?" 

"Tlie  card's  in  my  insidi'  ixu  ki  l.  l  ake  il 
out  and  we'll  look  at  it ." 

NllE  found  the  printed  coinmrnl  Idiiii  .inil 
read  il.  '"We  enjoyed  did  not  enjoy  the 
Calitex  TV  show  on  the  eveninu  of  Saturday 
fill-in-date.  Tiie  iiicture  was  '  Well,  the 
piclure  was  clear;  we  can  say  thai.  .And  ihc 
sound  reception  too.  Costumes,  adeciuale. 
Settings,  mwd.  Script  .  .  .  would  you  say 
'nauseatinj; '  or  'mfantile'?  Comedy,  none. 
Acting,  i)itiful.  Commercials  ...  I  actually 
liked  the  commercials  because  they  didn't 
try  to  be  funny.  They  convinced  me.  I'm  ko- 
in^^  to  use  Calitex  .gasoline  from  now  on." 

"You'd  better,  my  proud  beauty." 
"Until  death  ck)  me  |)art.  ...  Do  you  love 
your  wife,  Mr.  Fitch?" 

"I'm  mad  about  my  wife,  Mrs.  Fitch." 

"Not  tired  of  kissing  her  yet?" 

"Not  yet." 

"Then  why  don't  you  kiss  her,  you  oaf?" 

Tlic  honeymoon  ended  when  the  electric 
alarm  clock  went  off  at  seven  o'clock  on 
Monday  mornin.u. 

Garry  stood  beside  the  bed,  enormous  in 
his  striped  pajamas,  and  stretched  and 
made  a  noise  like  a  lion 
in  the  movies.  "You  stay 
in  bed  a  few  more  minutes, 
while  I  shave  and  wash 
and  get  my  shower." 

She  sat  up.  "Nothing  of 
the  kind.  Let  me  wash  my 
face  and  brush  my  teeth, 
so  I  can  dash  down- 
stairs and  have  your 
breakfast  ready." 

"I've  been  fixing  my  own  breakfast  for 
years,  Mike.  I  " 

Her  feet  found  their  sHppers  and  she  stood 
up.  "You're  not  going  to  fix  your  own 
breakfast  today,  my  good  man.  You've  got  a 
wife  now." 

"By  golly,  I  forgot.  Good  morning,  wife." 

"Good  morning,  husband.  .  .  .  Garry,  no! 
Just  a  peck.  You're  all  scratchy  and  I'm  in  a 
hurry." 

"In  divorce  cases,  they  call  that  extreme 
mental  cruelty,"  he  said,  but  she- slammed 
the  bathroom  door. 

The  male  members  of  the  Calitex  Family 
in  Fairlea  practiced  car  pooling  in  the  morn- 
ings, took  turns  picking  one  another  up  on  a 
precise  schedule  that  got  them  all  to  the  sta- 
tion in  time  for  the  8:03.  It  left  their  wives  at 
home  to  get  on  with  the  housework  and  it 
immobilized  only  one  car  instead  of  half  a 
dozen.  It  also  fostered  what  Personnel  called 
Team  Spirit  and  was  a  fine  thing  all  around. 

At  7:54  Tom  Parrish  tooted  his  horn  in 
front  of  167  Willow  Road.  Garry  gave  Mi- 
chelle the  commuter's  kiss,  a  touch  of  the 
lips  to  the  cheek,  sweeping  away  sidewise  as 
the  kisser  starts  for  the  door. 

"I'll  be  on  the  six-twelve  unless  you  hear 
from  me,  Mike." 

"Good-by,  darling." 

"Good-by." 

He  was  gone.  Turned  by  black  magic 
into  a  part  of  the  huge  oily  machine  that  was 
the  California-Texas  Petroleum  Corpora- 
tion. A  little  cogwheel  whose  teeth  engaged 
with  other  wheels,  spinning  smoothly  day 
after  day  after  day  under  the  sharp,  bifocal 
eyes  of  Harper  Ollivant. 

Michelle  had  never  felt  so  alone. 


I' or  your  Kuidanee,  I  feel  thai  a  ludte  ol  (i<) 
poinlH  Ih  (lie  Miiiiiiiuiiii,  70  ih  fair.  Hii  Ih  h»h<\  liiil 
I Duld  \h-  iiii|)rovi-<l,  and  iH)  or  l>cltLT  iH  cauKc-  U>r 
pardonable  pride  in  a  jot)  well  <l(inc. 

Sincerely  yourn. 

J  M.  UoE 
Awl.  Id  V.  I',  for  PersonHfl. 

My  lui'iljaMd  enjoys  his  hreakfaHt  every  morn- 
iiiK  ( 10) ;  once  or  twice  a  week  (5) ;  on  week  endh 

only  (2). 

I  make  a  Hpecial  clfin  I  Ici  (-ive  hiiii  breakfuHtM 
lie  likes  (.'■>). 

111.  Iireakfast  is  always  ready  on  lime,  ho  thai 
Ih  iHcil  mil  liurry  (5). 

I  .1111  .ilw.iys  Ileal  and  ;illr;u'live  al  hreaklaHt- 
liiiie  ( 10).  Hsu.illy  (;>). 

I  avoid  unpleasiinl  topics  al  llie  hre.ikfast 
l.ible.  so  that  he  is  able  to  leave  the  house  in 
a  Kood  frame  of  iniiul  for  the  day's  work  (10). 
Usually  (.'■)), 

I  am  often  in  a  bad  mood  al  breakfast  and  he 
is  licciuenlly  upset  when  he  leaves  the  house 
(-10). 

I  am  always  neat  and  atlr.'ictive  when  he 
tomes  lioiiie  from  the  ollice  (10).  Usually 

I  doeverylhiiiK  I  can  to  make  liis  honie-com- 
iiiKs  pleasant  (10).  Usually  (5). 

When  he  is  at  home.  I  suit  my  mrxxis  to  his. 
help  him  relax  if  he  is  tired  or  worried,  listen 
carefully  when  he  discusses  his  problems  (10). 
Usually  (.'")). 

We  cjuanel  rarely  (10).  about  once  a  monili 
(5).  about  once  a  week  (0).  nearly  every  dav 
(-10). 

If  he  brings  home  work  to  do  at  night,  I  pro- 
tect him  from  interruptions  (10). 

I  see  to  it  that  he  gets  enough  slcej)  every 
night  (10).  Usually  (C). 

I  maintain  friendly  relations  with  otfier 
members  of  the  Calitex  Family  and  make  them 
part  of  our  social  life  (10). 

I  am  proud  to  be  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Calitex  Family 
(10). 


There's 


The  answer  to  the  last  ap- 
peal of  what  is  right  lies 
within  a  man's  own  breast. 


Trust  thyself,  -aristotle 


Dear  Mrs.  Filch :  [The  letter  was  mass  pro- 
duced, with  the  name  typed  in  pretty  convinc- 
ingly.] There  are  many  kinds  of  questionnaires 
with  many  purposes  and  I  think  the  one  I  am 
enclosing  is  interesting.  It  is  between  you  and 
yourself.  Don't  send  it  in,  after  you  have  com- 
pleted it.  Answer  each  question  honestly,  add 
up  your  point  score,  and  decide  whether  there 
is  room  for  improvement.  Then  tear  up  the 
sheet  and  say  nothing  about  it. 


Alice  Young  introduced 
Michelle  to  Bert,  the  fat, 
gray-haired  butcher  at  the 
supermarket.  "Not  that 
you  can  afford  to  be  caught 
knowing  a  butcher  by  his 
first  name,  the  way  prices 
are,"  she  said.  "How  about  some  shoulder 
chops  for  lamb  stew,  Bert?" 

"You  couldn't  do  better,  Mrs.  Young. 
What'll  I  give  you?  Four  pounds?" 

"Make  it  three  and  I'll  load  it  with  vege- 
tables." 

"You're  the  boss." 

"I've  got  a  wonderful  recipe  for  lamb 
stew,  M'shell.  I'll  copy  it  out  for  you,  if  you 
like." 

"Oh,  thanks.  Only  I'm  not  sure  Garry 
would  eat  lamb  stew.  I'll  ask  him." 

"They  make  a  nice  meat  loaf  here.  Grind 
it  and  mix  it  together  for  you." 

"  I  was  thinking  about  a  ham  steak." 

"  I  suppose  you  can  afford  it,  with  just 
two  of  you.  Kids  run  into  money."  Alice 
looked  grave.  "Don't  spoil  him,  though.  It's 
always  harder  to  cut  down." 

"  I  don't  want  married  life  to  be  too  grim. 
I  imagine  he  lived  pretty  well  as  a  bachelor 
and  now,  his  second  week  in  his  own 
home  " 

"Home's  always  a  comedown  for  them. 
They  take  people  to  lunch  at  expensive  res- 
taurants and  the  corporation  pays  the  check. 
They  travel  around  the  country  on  expense 
accounts  and  they  come  back  to  the  little 
woman  and  the  budget.  Lamb  stew,  meat 
loaf,  jelly  omelets,  macaroni.  Clean  the 
cellar,  mow  the  lawn,  paint  the  kids'  furni- 
ture. You  know"-— Alice  Young  grinned  — 
"they're  mighty  good  to  come  back  at  all." 

/  am  always  neat  and  attractive  when  he 
comes  home  from  the  office  (10). 

jWiCHELLE  went  to  the  Ritz  Beauty  Salon 
with  Nettie  Carraway. 

"They  do  all  right  for  around  Fairlea." 
Nettie  explained  in  a  low  voice.  "  If  Al  and  I 
go  out  in  New  York,  I  take  an  early  train  in 
and  get  a  real  hairdo  at  Simone's.  But  this 
is  good  enough,  and  cheap  for  a  rinse  and  a 
wave.  It's  not  glamour,  but  it's  tidy.  Least 
you  can  do  for  your  husband  after  he's  been 
knocking  himself  out  all  day." 

"  What  does  your  husband  do,  Nettie?  " 

"Al?  He's  in  Transportation.  Highway, 
mostly.  He  routes  all  the  tank  trailers  and 


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1,   A   D    1    K    S  ■       HOME  JOURNAL 


Mar,  1953 


'SoapingMulls  hair. 
HALO  glorifies  it ! 


Yes,  "soaping"  your  hair 
with  even  finest  liquid  or  cream  shampoos 
hides  its  natural  lustre  with  dulling  soap  film. 

Halo — made  with  a  special  ingredient — contains  no 
soap  or  sticky  oils  to  dull  your  hair.  Halo  re 
shimmering  highlights  .  .  .  leaves  your  hair 
soft,  fragrant,  marvelously  manageable! 

No  special  rinses  needed.  Halo  ^l^^' 
does  not  dry .  .  .  does  not  irritate ! 


Halo  glorifies  your  hair  _ 

with  your  very  first  shampoo/ 


semis,  pulls  'em  out  for  maintenance,  keeps 
'em  moving.  The  trick  is  to  have  'em  where 
they're  needed  when  they're  needed  but 
never  let  'em  stand  idle.  The  snow  last  win- 
ter drove  him  nuts,  just  about.  Couldn't  get 
'em  out  and  couldn't  get  'em  back.  And  Mr. 
Killian  chewing  him  out  about  it  all  the 
time." 

"Who's Mr.  Killian?" 

"V.P.  for  Transportation.  .  .  .  Well,  Al's 
about  due  to  move  up.  That's  the  way  they 
work.  Pile  it  on  a  man,  pressure,  pressure, 
pressure,  to  see  if  he  can  take  it.  If  he  doesn't 
crack,  they  know  he's  good.  O.K.  for  promo- 
tion and  more  responsibility." 

"And  more  pressure,"  Michelle  said. 

"But  more  money.  A  better  place  to  live. 
More  for  the  kids.  Jeanie  goes  to  school  next 
year  and  she's  got  to  have  her  teeth  straight- 
ened, and  Bobbie    We  can  use  more 

money." 

"I  can't  help  wondering  about  all  this 
strain.  Garry's  been  talking  in  his  sleep  this 
week.  Mumbling  mostly,  but  the  other  night 
he  said,  '  Impossible's  no  excuse.  Got  to, 
that's  all.  Got  to,  got  to,  got  to.'  He  kept 
saying  'Got  to'  till  I  woke  him  up." 

Nettie  Carraway  shrugged.  "That's  where 
the  wife  comes  in.  To  gentle  him  along,  make 
him  relax.  Men  are  awful  babies.  I  use  a  lot 
out  of  the  child-psychology  book  on  Al,  and 
it  works.  I've  seen  him  come  home  ready  to 
quit  and  start  out  the  next  morning  like  the 
mouse  that  said, '  Where's  that  damn'  cat? ' " 

"But  it's  a  job,  isn't  it?  Not  a  religion. 
The  corporation's  a  corporation,  trying  to 
make  money  for  its  stockholders,  and  that's 
all.  A  young  man  ought  to 
have  a  life  of  his  own.  A 
wife  of  his  own,  not  just 
a  woman  who  keeps  him 
fit  to  work  till  he  fdlls 
down.  Talk  about  slave 
labor!" 

Nettie  Carraway  looked 
at  Michelle  with  round, 
muddy-blue  eyes. "  Honey, 
I  wouldn't  say  that.  I  wouldn't  even  think  it." 

"Well,  I  love  my  husband.  I  " 

"  It  is  a  religion,  sort  of.  It's  a  man  prov- 
ing to  himself  that  he's  as  good  as  the  rest. 
Or  better.  He  wants  to.  If  he  fails,  it  breaks 
his  heart.  And  if  you  love  him,  you  help 
him." 

"But  I  want  him  to  belong  to  me,  not  to 
the  corporation." 

"Listen,  M 'shell.  You  " 

The  woman  in  white  spoke  from  the  door- 
way: "Ready  for  you,  Mrs.  Carraway.  It'll 
be  just  a  minute,  Mrs.  Fitch." 

Michelle's  mind  flashed  an  unexpected 
picture.  A  dog  race.  (She  had  seen  one  only 
once.)  The  greyhounds,  swift  and  graceful, 
straining  nerve  and  heart  and  muscle  after 
the  mechanical  rabbit  that  was  always  just 
ahead.  The  finish:  the  rabbit  disappears 
down  its  slot,  and  the  dogs,  breathless, 
tongues  lolling,  are  led  away  by  their  han- 
dlers. 

The  dogs  want  lo  chase  rabbits  they  can 
never  catch,  each  proving  to  himself  

The  Parrishes'  car  was  laid  up,  having 
something  done  to  its  brakes.  Michelle  drove 
Toots  shopping  and  brought  her  home  to  167 
Willow  Road  afterward.  It  was  not  quite  five 
o'clock,  more  than  an  hour  before  she  would 
go  to  the  station  to  meet  Garry. 

Toots  turned  her  little  pointed  face,  in- 
specting the  living  room.  "New  pictures," 
she  said.  "New  since  I've  been  here."  (It  was 
nearly  two  weeks  since  the  Fitches  had  in- 
vited the  Parrishes  over.) 

"  I  just  put  them  up  yesterday.  They  came 
with  my  things  from  California.  They're 
gayer  than  the  flower  prints  and  I  didn't 
think  the  corporation 'd  mind.  I've  put  the 
prints  away  carefully." 

"Oil  paintings,"  Toots  said,  examining  the 
one  near  the  door.  "Swanky.  Valuable?" 

Michelle  laughed.  "Not  very.  I  painted 
them  myself." 

"You  wouldn't  kid  me?" 

"They're  signed,  if  you  care.  They're  all  of 
my  father's  place  above  Santa  Barbara. 
This  one's  the  view  from  my  bedroom  win- 
dow." 


we  are  al 


Before  God 

equally  wise  —  equally  fool- 
ish. 

—ALBERT  EINSTEIN 


Toots  didn't  look.  She  had  her  sharp  nose 
close  to  the  painting  of  the  walled  garden. 
"M.  Carton,"  she  read.  "That  your  maiden 
name?  Carton?" 

"That's  right.  .  .  .  Would  you  like  tea?" 

Toots  stood  back,  tilting  her  head  criti- 
cally. "I  don't  know  much  about  art,  but 
they're  pretty,  all  right.  Make  you  home- 
sick?" 

"Oh  " 

"Fairlea's  not  much  like  California." 

"It's  getting  lovely  now,  with  everything 
coming  out." 

"  Wait  till  next  winter." 

"Maybe  we  won't  be  here  next  winter." 

"Oh?"  The  mouse  face  was  sharper  than 
ever. 

JMiCHELLE  felt  herself  blushing.  She  said, 
"I  mean,  all  this  talk  about  transfers  and 
being  ready  to  move.  That's  why  they  give 
you  furnished  houses,  isn't  it?" 

"That,  and  so  they  can  keep  an  eye  on 
you.  .  .  .  Did  you  say  tea?" 

"Yes.  Would  you  like  " 

"  I  was  afraid  you  said  tea.  What  about  a 
nice  dry  Martini?" 

"  Why  .  .  .  I'll  make  you  one,  if  you  like.  I 
think  I'll  have  a  cup  of  tea,  myself." 
"Not  a  Martini  to  keep  me  company? " 
"I'll  have  one  later  with  Garry." 
"You  could  have  one  now  too.  I've  got 
some  chlorophyll  stuff,  and  he'd  never  know. " 

"I'd  know,"  Michelle  said,  sounding  ex- 
actly like  Miss  Henderson  at  school. 

"Oh,  I'll  know  too.  Things'll  get  just  a  lit- 
tle blurry.  Sharp  edges  won't  be  quite  as 
sharp.  Fairlea'll  be  easier 
"  to  take." 

Michelle  started  through 
the    dining    room.  She 
brought  back  a  tray  with 
the  shaker  and  a  cocktail 
glass  at  one  end  of  it,  her 
grandmother's  silver  tea- 
pot and  cream  pitcher  and 
a  cup  at  the  other. 
Toots  Parrish  accepted  the  Martini  and 
raised  it  in  salute.  "Well,  here's  to  you." 
She  sipped  and  held  the  glass.  "  I  don't  really 
hit  the  bottle,  in  case  you're  wondering. 
Never  drink  too  much.  But  I  try  to  get 
enough.  Life  is  not  a  bed  of  roses,  honey." 
"No.  It's  not."  Michelle  poured  tea. 
"Oh,  you!"  Toots  sipped  and  put  her 
glass  down  and  leaned  forward.  "  You're  all 
Santa  Barbara  and  silver  teapots  and  finish- 
ing-school accent.  And  a  husband  who's  go- 
ing up  and  up.  What  did  you  do  before?" 

"Before?  Before  I  was  married?  Not 
much.  I  studied  art  and  I  was  just  getting  a 
start  doing  fashion  drawings." 
"To  pass  the  time." 
"No.  For  money." 

"I  mean  you  didn't  have  to.  ...  I  was 
Civil  Service.  Secretarial.  Tom  was  a  cap- 
tain in  Field  Artillery.  Calitex  was  a  wonder- 
ful break.  Unlimited  future.  He  got  two  pro- 
motions in  three  and  a  half  years." 

"  He's  nice.  We  both  love  him." 

"So  do  I,  M'shell.  Only  his  last  promotion 
was  three  years  ago."  Toots  picked  up  her 
glass  and  stared  into  it.  "A  man's  not  sup- 
posed to  stay  three  years  on  the  same  level. 
The  longer  they  leave  him  there,  the  harder 
it  is  to  get  them  to  move  him  up."  She  emp- 
tied the  glass  and  held  it  out  for  what  was 
left  in  the  shaker. 

Michelle  poured  it  out.  "But  why?" 

"  I'd  like  to  know.  Somebody  who  doesn't 
like  him?  Somebody  who  doesn't  like  me?  Or 
has  he  just  come  to  his  limit?" 

"I'm  terribly  sorry,"  Michelle  said,  and 
nearly  spilled  her  tea  at  the  change  in  her 
guest. 

Toots  Parrish  got  to  her  feet  and  stood 
with  her  fists  at  her  sides.  Her  pale  face  was 
paler.  "Well,  don't  be!  Nobody  asked  you 
to  be  sorry  for  us.  I  was  telling  you  why  I 
have  a  drink  in  the  daytime  once  in  a  while. 
That's  all.  I'm  sorry  for  you,  if  you  want  to 
know.  Because  you're  too  good  for  the  rest  of 
us,  we  all  know  that,  and  you're  stuck  with 
us.  If  you're  looking  for  somebody  to  pity, 
look  in  your  mirror ! "  She  strode  through  the 
dining  room  to  the  kitchen  door.  She  turned 
and  said,  "Thanks  for  everything.  I'll  go 
across  the  back  yards." 


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/  itutintain  jriiHtlly  nlutiims  with  olliir 
nu'iHht  Ts  u)  IIn-  Calilrx  h'tnnily  .  .  .  (10). 

Didi  Mr',  /■iiili:  Wi- ;il  (lie  ({I'Ufnil  ollicf  art: 
1  iilliiisiMslic  alxjut  an  arlicic  lallcd  "My 
I  lul)l>y  Is  My  Hobby"  hy  Mariha  I).  I.iddfy  in 
tlic  ciirrfiil  issiif  of  /Vo/</c.  Mrs.  I.iddcy,  whosi' 
Imshaiid  is  Sales  I'roinolioTi  MaiiaKi-r  of  My 
l.ovf  IVTfiimcs,  tu-lls  tin-  fastinaliiiK  story  of 
iwfiity-lwo  years  of  marrifd  life  and  dfscTilH.'H 
liDvv,  liy  SL-Illi'ss  devotion  and  iiniri'asiiiK  study 
111  her  husband  and  his  proljlcnis,  she  has  been 
ablf  lo  conlributc  materially  to  liis  sufccssfiil 
lareer.  We  feel  that  this  articU;  eoiitains  s<i 
many  helpful  hints  for  every  liiisinessman's 
wife  thai  we  have  had  it  reprinted  and  are  en- 
i  l()siIl^;  a  copy  for  you. 

W'lun  you  have  read  it,  please  use  the  en- 
closed card  to  tell  me  what  lessons  you  person- 
ally have  learned  from  Mrs.  1-iddey's  exjieri- 
encc.  Sincerely  yours, 

J.  M.  KOK 
Asst.  to  V.  I',  for  I'l  Tsonnil 

Dear  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Filch :  In  line  with  the  cor- 
poral ion's  establishi'd  policy  of  relieving  its 
executive  ptTsoimel  of  the  burdens  it  can  lift 
from  their  shoulders,  it  has  been  decided  that 
the  IVrsoniiel  Division  will  in  future  prepare 
Individual  Income  Tax  Returns  for  executives 
and  their  families.  In  so  doiiiK,  we  will  furnish 
not  only  clerical  and  typinn  service  but  also  the 
professional  assistance  of  expert  tax  consult- 
ants, who  will  hold  your  paymenis  to  Ihe  Gov- 
ernment to  the  legitimate  minimum.  Please  use 
the  enclosed  simiililied  form  lo  report  all  in- 
come, however  derived,  from  all  sources  other 
than  salaries  and  hoiiKses  />aid  you  hy  the  corpora- 
lion,  stating  source  of  outside  income,  by  which 
member  of  family  received,  and  nature  of  business 
(investment,  sale  of  goods,  salaries,  clc.).Gam- 
bliiiK  i)ro(Us  arc  taxable  and  musl  be  reported. 

Dear  Mrs.  Fitch:  To  aid  us  in  a  statistical 
study,  will  you  please  furnish  the  following  in- 
formation al  your  early  convenience? 

During  the  past  month,  my  husband  and  I 
(state  if  only  husband  or  only  wife) 

Saw  the  following  motion  pictures  or  stage 
plays  (indicate  which): 


Read  the  following  books: 


Read  the  following  articles: 


Attended  the  following  (lectures,  concerts, 
operas,  art  exhibitions,  etc.) : 


Attention  Mrs:  Filch! 

Perhaps  through  an  oversight,  you  have  not 
yet  completed  and  returned  to  this  office: 

Questionnaire:  My  16-hour  Day  (XW.F5) 
which  is  needed  to  complete  our  records. 
Please  give  this  your  attention. 

J.  B.  Roe 

Personnel 

Dear  Mrs.  Fitch:  As  a  result  of  his  quarterly 
physical  checkup,  Medical  Department  reports 
that  your  husband  is 

In  excellent  condition. 
The  following  treatment  has  been  prescribed: 
Vitamin  capsules  No.  381 : 
one  each  morning  before 
breakfast. 

We  are  sending  you  the  medicine  under  sep- 
arate cover  and  charging  your  husband's  ac- 
count, at  cost  to  the  corporation.  We  are  count- 
ing on  your  co-operation  in  seeing  to  it  that  he 
follows  this  treatment  faithfully. 

Sincerely  yours, 

J.  B.  Roe 
Asst.  to  V.  P.  for  Personnel 


(iarry  hun^^  up  Iiik  h.il  and  coal  in  the  hall 
ciosfl  and  turned  around.  "Here!"  he  Haid. 
"Wiiere's  tny  home-coininn  kiss?" 

"Darling,  I'm  sorry!"  She  ran  back  from 
the  living  nx)in  into  his  strong  arms. 

He  kissed  her  slowly,  Keiiily,  and  held  her 
afterward,  knjkinn  into  her  eycH.  "I  love 
you,  Mike,"  he  said. 

"Funny  coinciflence.  I  love  you." 

She  pulled  liis  iicad  down  lo  a  kiss. 

lie  said,  "What  was  the  lliinK  my  father 
used  If)  s;iy?  'When  s<jmell)inK  somelhinK 
racks  the  brow,  a  minislerinK  an^el  thou.'" 

"I'ain  and  annuish.  My  father  says  il  lix;. 
And  'wrinn,'  nol  'racks.'  Have  you  koI  pain 
and  anguish?" 

"Not  really.  I'm  lired.  Just  in  the  m<xxl 
for  a  minislerin^;  an^'el." 

"do  and  sit  down.  I'll  start  minislerinn 
with  a  batch  of  Martinis.  ()v  shall  I  run  up 
and  Kel  your  slippers?  Wives  do,  I  hear." 

"  I'll  run  up  and  wash." 

He  was  leaninf;  over  the  table,  IfxjkinK 
tlinniuh  liie  ix)rtfolio,  when  she  came  in  with 
the  tray. 

He  said,  "You  never  showed  me  these, 
Mike.  They're  wonderful." 

Sine  stirred  the  cocktails  with  a  K^eat  clat- 
ter. "I  ^;ol  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for 
those  two  in  Pirelli's  spring  announcement. 
Fifty  each  for  the  grease-crayon  sketches  for 
Mulford's,  but  they  were  easy  and  they  car- 
ried my  signature  in  the  papers.  .  .  .  Speak- 
ing of  peanuts,  have  a  stuffed  olive." 

He  was  still  looking  at  the  pictures.  His 
speech  was  impeded  by  the  olive  he  was 
chewinj^.  "I'm  crazy  about  the  Pirelli  paint- 
ings. You  know  a  thing  or  two  about  color, 
Mrs.  F'ilch." 

"Here's  to  your  very  good  health,  Mr. 
Fitch." 

"May  you  live  a  thousand  years."  He  sat 
beside  her  on  the  love  seat  with  his  arm 
around  her. 

"Garry  " 

"Yes'm?" 

"  I  was  thinking  about  those  drawings  of 
mine." 

"With  pardonable  pride." 

"No.  Something  much  more  practical. 
We're  having  meat  loaf  for  dinner  because 
we  had  that  steak  night  before  last  and  the 
budget  says  " 

"You  can't  budge  a  budget." 

"That's  just  it.  Aside  from  the  fact  that 
I'm  tutning  into  a  vegetable,  just  running  the 
house  and  keeping  up  a  cliatty  correspond- 
ence with  Personnel.  I  could  find  tlirec  or 
four  hours  a  day  for  gainful  work.  And  use 
my  mind  and  whatever  talent  I've  got." 

He  emptied  his  glass  and  put  it  down. 
"How  do  you  mean — 'gainful'?  You  don't 
want  to  get  a  part-time  job?  " 

"No.  Not  exactly,  anyway.  I'm  thinking 
of  taking  that  portfolio,  the  things  that  have 
been  paid  for  and  reproduced  and  the  un- 
published stuff — samples — around  to  adver- 
tising agencies  and  fashion  magazines.  See 
if  I  can  get  some  commissions.  There's  good 
money  in  it,  once  you  get  started.  We  could 
burn  tbe  budget." 

Silence.  "Well,  look  here,"  he  said  at  last. 
"We  do  all  right  on  the  btidget.  I  know  it's 
no  fun,  keeping  track  of  every  penny,  but 
we're  comfortable." 

"You  hate  meat  loaf.  You  loathe  ham- 
burger. You  ought  to  see  your  face  when  I 
give  you  spaghetti  and  meat  sauce." 

"Oh,  now !  I  don't  make  faces,  do  I? " 

"You  try  not  to  because  you're  a  love. 
Anyway,  the  money's  only  half  of  it.  I  need 
something  to  prove  to  myself  that  I'm  a 
person,  not  just  an  XW,  that  I'm  alive." 

"You  seem  alive  to  me."  He  stroked  the 
back  of  her  neck  with  his  finger  tips. 

"I  want  to  use  my  brain,  Garry." 

He  half  turned  and  leaned  against  the  end 
of  the  love  seat.  "  I  want  you  to  be  happy, 
Mike.  If  painting  will  do  it,  paint.  Paint  all 
day  long.  Don't  even  make  the  beds.  Y'ou've 
got  a  very  great  talent.  I  can't  get  over 
these  pictures  on  the  walls.  I  get  more  pleas- 
ure out  of  them  Btit,  cjprling  " 

"But  what?" 

"  Well  There  was  a  fellow  named  Joe 

Thursdon  who  worked  for  Calite.x.  He  and 
Hal  Morvin  and  I  shared  an  apartment. 


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I.   \  I)   I    i;   s  •      ;i   (I   \i    i:      i   (i   r   i;    \    \  i.  May,  1953 


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CHERAMY 

PERFUMER 


Nice  guy,  and  smart.  He  fell  in  love  with  a 
young  actress:  Letty  MacLennan.  She's 
beautiful  and  she's  a  fine  actress.  Anyway, 
Joe  fell  in  love  with  her  and  they  announced 
they  were  going  to  be  married.  It  was  in  the 
papers,  of  course,  and  Ollivant  sent  for  Joe. 
Told  him  Calitex  didn't  like  wives  with 
separate  careers  of  their  own.  Joe  blew  his 
top.  He  quit  right  then  and  there." 

"And  starved  to  death?" 

"Hah?  No.  I  saw  him  last  winter.  He's 
with  an  outfit  that  makes  television  sets. 
Doing  all  right.  .  .  .  But  Ollivant  called  me 
and  Hal  Morvin  in  for  a  talk.  Knew  we'd 
have  heard  Joe's  side  of  the  story.  And  he 
told  us  as  bachelors.  Said  he'd  seen  too  many 
men  stopped  in  their  tracks  by  wives  with 
careers  of  their  own.  Said  he  wasn't  threat- 
ening us  " 

"Which  he  was." 

"Oh.  well.  .  .  .  Anyway,  if  you  paint  for 
fun,  that's  all  right,  but  the  minute  you  start 
making  a  career  of  it  " 

Michelle  said,  "They  wouldn't  need  to 
know,  if  that's  how  it  is.  I  could  use  a  differ- 
ent name,  if  I  had  to." 

He  moved  his  head  from  side  to  side. 
"They'd  get  you  on  the  income-tax  return. 
Now  that  they're  handling  taxes,  they'd 
have  to  know  about  any  money  you  made." 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "I  saw  what  that  income- 
tax  deal  was  for,  when  I  read  the  notice." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  most  people  have  se- 
crets." 

She  got  to  her  feet  and  stood  looking  down 
at  him.  "Do  you  know  about  jellyfish. 
Garry?  They  pick  up  little  fish  in  their 
streamers  and  just  absorb  them.  It  takes 
quite  a  while,  but  the  little  fish  simply  dis- 
appear. The  California-Texas  Petroleum 
Corporation  has  got  you  and  me  tangled  up 
in  its  streamers  now.  Only  I'm  not  a  little 
lish.  I'm  a  small  clam  with  a  thick  shell,  and 
I'm  not  going  to  be  absorbed." 

He  rose,  towering  over  her.  "Mike  " 

He  took  her  elbows  in  his  big  hands.  "Listen 
to  me,  my  dearest.  This  is  something  we 
haven't  done  before— making  a  distinction 
between  you  and  me— and  let's  not  start  it 
now.  There's  no  you  and  no  me;  there's  just 
us.  One  small  clam  that  no  jellyfish  can 
swallow.  Is  it  a  deal?" 

"I  belong  to  you,  Garry." 

"And  I  belong  to  you,  and  we  don't  be- 
long to  anybody." 

In  the  confusion,  she  kissed  the  side  of  his 


He  finished  reading  the  last  page  of  the 
report  on  the  new  Littleton  cracking  plant 
and  placed  it  face  down  on  the  stack  of  type- 
written pages. 

"That's  it,  Amanda.  I'm  sorry  you  had  to 
work  so  late."  He  glanced  at  his  watch.  It 
was  twenty  minutes  to  ten. 

"You  worked  just  as  late,  and  I'm  paid 
overtime."  She  gathered  up  the  papers  and 
shook  them  into  order.  "I'll  have  this  on  Mr. 
Laney's  desk  the  first  thing  in  the  morning." 

"Thanks."  He  stretched,  flexing  his  arms 
above  his  head.  "Wow!  I'm  tired." 

"What  train  do  you  take?" 

3foTHiNG  now  till  ten-forty-four.  A  whole 
hour  to  wait,  and  it's  a  slow  train  too." 

She  was  getting  her  coat  from  the  clothes 
tree  in  the  corner.  "If  you'll  take  me  home, 
I'll  make  you  a  drink."  She  turned  and  gave 
him  her  lopsided  smile. 

"I'd  love  to,  but  I'm  not  sure  I  should." 

"There's  nothing  either  good  or  bad  but 
thinking  makes  it  so.  Quotation  from  Ham- 
let." 

He  got  to  his  feet  and  snapped  off  the  desk 
lamp.  "As  you  say,  what's  the  harm? " 

"I  didn't  say  that,"  she  laughed.  .  .  . 

Amanda  Stowe's  two-room  apartment  was 
in  a  converted  brownstone  on  Murray  Hill, 
less  than  five  minutes  from  Grand  Central. 

"Like  the  new  curtains? "  she  asked. 

Garry  looked  around.  "You've  done  the 
whole  place  over,  haven't  you?" 

"Paint,  new  curtains,  new  slip  cover  on 
the  couch." 

"It's  a  long  time  since  I've  been  here." 

"Last  December,"  Amanda  said.  "You 
walked  over  with  me  in  the  snow,  after  we 
finished  the  year-end  recapitulation." 


"That's  right." 

"I've  got  to  take  these  shoes  off,"  she 
said.  "They're  new  and  they  pinch.  You 
make  the  drinks.  Scotch  and  not  too  much 
soda  for  me." 

She  scuffed  back  in  black  feather-tipped 
mules  and  accepted  the  drink  he  had  just 
mixed.  She  sat  at  one  end  of  the  couch  and 
patted  tlie  seat  beside  her.  "Come  and  sit 
down  and  relax." 

He  left  eighteen  respectable  inches  be- 
tween them. 

"Here's  to  me,"  she  said.  "Drink  to  your- 
self and  be  sure  of  sincere  good  wishes." 

"My  health!"  he  said  and  tasted  his 
drink. 

"Funny,"  she  said.  "I  see  you  most  of 
forty  hours  a  week  and  never  talk  to  you. 


FRUIT  NAMES 

Names  of  several  fruits  ore  so  ancient 
that  their  origin  is  lost  in  antiquity. 
That  is  the  case  with  the  apple,  fig, 
lemon,  orange,  lime,  olive  and  pear. 
Other  fruit  names,  however,  tell 
something  of  their  own  stories. 

At  the  dawn  of  modern  times,  a 
number  of  trees  were  imported  from 
Persia  by  the  Greeks.  Fruit  from  the 
"Persian  tree"  was  known  as  persi- 
cum;  passing  through  several  lan- 
guages, the  name  entered  English  as 
peach. 

Some  centuries  after  the  peach 
episode,  about  100  B.C.,  a  Roman 
general  discovered  another  delicocy. 
It  grew  in  Cerasos,  a  city  in  Pontus, 
and  was  soon  being  shipped  to  Rome 
for  imperial  banquets.  Called  cera- 
sus  in  that  era,  it  eventually  became 
cherry.  This  type  of  name  formation 
was  repeated  when  oronges  from 
Tangier,  in  Morocco,  came  to  be 
known  as  tangerines. 

Ancient  Bedouins  called  one  of  their 
favorite  fruits  al-burquq  (the  early- 
ripener).  Passing  through  Portuguese 
to  French  to  English,  the  name  be- 
came apricot. 

Both  the  date  and  the  banana  are 
so  called  because  they  are  shaped 
somewhat  like  a  human  finger.  The 
former  term  evolved  from  a  Greek 
word  for  "finger,"  and  the  latter  de- 
veloped when  traders  mistook  an 
African  word  for  the  Arabic  banan 
(finger).  A  similor  misunderstanding 
gave  the  avocado  its  name.  Spanish 
adventurers  found  the  fruit  in  South 
America  and  asked  what  it  was  called. 
Natives  said  "ahuacati,"  which 
sounded  a  bit  like  avacado,  Spanish 
for  "cowlike."  Once  bestowed,  the 
name  stuck.        — webb  b.  garrison 

©©O000000O000 

Anything  but  business.  I  mean.  How  do  you 
like  living  in  Fairlea?" 

"Very  much,  except  for  the  trains.  Nearly 
two  hours  a  day  on  trains.  But  I  do  a  lot  of 
reading  between  to  and  fro." 

"I'm  a  city  girl.  If  I  start  to  forget  what 
trees  are,  I  can  run  over  to  Central  Park." 

He  laughed  and  Amanda  offered  him  the 
morocco-leather  cigarette  box.  He  operated 
the  silver  table  lighter. 

Amanda  leaned  back.  "You  know,  when 
you  used  to  come  here,  I  often  wondered 
what  I'd  do  if  you  kissed  me,  and  I  never 
found  out.  Now  I  suppose  I  never  will." 

Her  head  resting  on  the  back  of  the  couch, 
she  was  staring  at  the  ceiling  with  half-closed 
eyes.  Her  profile  was  clear-cut  and  the  line 
of  her  neck  was  lovely.  He  heard  Michelle's 
voice  unexpectedly: 

"  You  didn't  tell  me  she  was  in  love  with 
you." 

He  said,  "Did  I  give  you  Mr.  Albertson's 
memorandum  to  go  with  that  report?" 

She  sat  up  slowly  and  turned  wide  gray 
eyes  on  him.  "  Yes,"  she  said.  "  You  did.  You 
never  forget  anything." 


"Good.  Mr.  Laney's  a  stickler  for  having 
everything  together.  When  you  send  him  a 
report,  he  expects  it  to  be  complete  to  the 
last  detail." 

Garry  was  waiting  at  the  train  gate  when 
it  was  opened  at  10:31. 

"We'll  have  to  go  straight  to  bed,"  Mi- 
chelle said.  "It's  nearly  midnight  and  one 
of  my  duties  is  to  make  you  get  enough" 
sleep.  I  don't  see  how  I  can,  if  you  have  to 
work  so  late." 

"I  admit  I'm  bushed,  but  I  can  catch  up 
on  the  week  end. . . .  What  you  been  doing?" 

She  had  moved  the  living-room  table  to 
make  room  for  the  overturned  dining-room 
chair  she  had  been  using  as  an  easel.  There 
were  grease-crayon  drawings  about  the 
room.  On  the  big  sheet  of  paper  clipped  to 
the  portfolio  on  the  make-shift  easel  was  a 
half-finished  sketch:  a  girl  in  a  flaring  top- 
coat stepping  off  a  bus. 

Garry  stood  before  it.  "Mighty  good  work. 
Mike.  Your  people  are  all  alive.  They  almost 
move  on  the  paper.  Those  easy,  sweeping 
strokes  — —  Awful  good." 

"I  wanted  to  see  if  the  trick  would  come 
back  to  me." 

He  dug  his  hands  into  his  trousers  pockets 
studying  the  sketch.  "Where  did  you  get  the 
clothes?  Make  'em  up  out  of  your  head? " 

"  Partly.  I  read  some  articles  about  trends 
in  Paris  and  looked  at  a  lot  of  photographs." 
She  moved  around  the  room,  picking  up  the 
litter  she  had  left.  "All  my  painting  stuff  ar- 
rived this  morning." 

"Painting  stuff?"  There  was  a  httle  verti- 
cal wrinkle  between  his  eyebrows. 

"  I  wrote  to  Carol  and  she  sent  it  all  in  a 
big  box."  She  opened  the  portfolio  on  the 
floor  and  laid  her  drawings  in  it. 

Garry  righted  the  chair  that  had  been  her 
easel  and  carried  it  into  the  dining  room.  He 
pulled  the  table  back  into  place.  He  lighted  a 
cigarette  with  unnecessary  care.  She  waited, 
on  one  knee,  tying  up  the  portfolio. 

He  didn't  say  it  until  they  were  in  bed  in 
the  throbbing  dark.  "Mike  " 

"M-m-m-m?" 

"This  idea  of  yours  that  the  corporation 
is  trying  to  absorb  us — don't  you  think 
you're  exaggerating  a  little?  " 

"I've  kept  my  mail  from  Mr.  Harper  Olli- 
vant and  his  nosy  assistant,  Mr.  J.  B.  Roe,  if 
you'd  care  to  look  at  it." 

"It's  all  for  our  best  interests  in  the  end. 
They  want  to  keep  me  moving  up  and  they 
want  you  to  help.  They  know  from  experi- 
ence what  kind  of  wife  can  get  the  most  out 
of  her  husband  and  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  get  anything  out  of  my 
husband.  Not  for  them." 

"The  ideal  wife  " 

"The  ideal  wife  is  Mrs.  Ollivant.  Would 
you  like  me  to  be  like  her?" 

"Darling,  no!  I  love  you  just  as  you  are, 
l>ecaiise  you're  just  as  you  are,  but  I  can't 
help  worrying  " 

"And  worrying  impairs  your  efficiency." 

"          worrying  about  the  impression 

they're  getting  of  you,  the  wrong  impres- 
sion." 

"I  lie  myself  blue  in  the  face  on  their 
silly  questionnaires.  I  go  around  smiling  till 
I  think  my  face  will  crack.  WTienever  I 
catch  myself  thinking  what  I  really  think  of 
Calitex  and  the  Calitex  Family,  I  lock  the 
doors  and  pull  down  the  shades.  If  I'm  not 
giving  them  the  right  impression,  it's  not 
because  I  don't  try." 

"  I'm  sorry,  Mike." 

Silence.  She  stared  at  the  blob  of  light  on 
the  ceiling,  with  leaf  shadows  stirring  in  it. 
She  heard  Garry  swallow. 

"This  scheme  of  yours,"  he  said,  "about 
getting  commissions  for  commercial  draw- 
ing. You're  not  going  to  do  that?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  darling.  I  don't  know." 

She  cried  into  her  pillow  without  a  sound, 
a  trick  she  had  learned  in  her  early  teens, 
when  she  and  Carol  had  shared  a  room. 

Dinner  at  the  Littles'  on  Park  Avenue  dif- 
fered from  dinner  at  the  Carraways'  on  Wil- 
low Road  chiefly  in  the  matter  of  Income 
Bracket. 

(Conlimicd  on  Page  130) 


I.  \  I)  I   !•:  s  •     II  I)  \i  I 


()    II    K    N    \  I 


y^/^ky//>g//^  (/)ol 


or  simmie/) 


THE  BREEZEWAY 


ross  jj/ioes 

in  ivuLon  iviesn 


You  can't  imagine  how  really  cool  a  shoe  can  be — until  you've  worn 
Nylon  Mesh.  It  bares  your  foot  to  the  slightest  breeze  .  .  .  feels  so  light 

.  .  .  flexes  so  easily.  And  becoming?  After  all,  these  are  Red  Cross  Shoes. 
You  know  they'll  make  you  look  your  prettiest .  .  .  feel  so  confident  and 
sure  of  yourself.  See  them  at  your  nearest  retailer's. 


Americas  unchallenged  shoe  value 


FEATURED  IN  CANADA  AS  GOLD  CROSi  SHOES 


■  United  States  Shoe  Corporation,  Cincinnati  7,  Ohio.  These  shoes  are  manufactured  and  distributed  as  Gold  Cross  Shoes  in  Canada  by  B'&  L  Shoe,  Ltd.^  in  England  by  Somervell  Bros.,  Ltd.,  in  Australia  by  "Gold  Cross  Shoes" 
tsl.)  Pty.  Ltd.,  in  South  Africa  by  Eddels  (S.A.),  Ltd.,  in  New  Zealand  by  Duckworth,  Turner  and  Co.,  Ltd.  THIS  PRODUCT  HAS  NO  CONNECTION  WHATEVER  WITH  THE  AMERICAN  NATIONAL  RED  CROSS 


130 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  19S3 


why  Squibb 
Angle  Toothbrushes 
clean  so 
thoroughly! 


To  help  clean  hard-to-get-at-places 

all  Squibb  Toothbrushes  are  bent  like 
your  dentist's  mirror  ...  an  exclusive 
Squibb  feature. 


The  NEW  '"leOO"  — slender,  flexi- 
ble bristles  slip  into  tiny  crevices  — 
are  gentle  on  tender  gums. 


Look  for  these 

Squibb 

packages  at  your  drug  store 


(Continued  from  Page  128) 

For  the  Littles  you  dressed  (Garry  blind- 
ingly  handsome  in  his  dinner  jacket,  Mi- 
chelle feeling  a  little  startling  in  her  red-and- 
gold  strapless  dress  from  Pirelli's)  and  smiled 
and  bowed  and  shook  hands  formally  and 
chattered  about  topics  of  general  interest,  at 
first.  You  took  a  little  crystal  glass  of  sherry 
from  the  tray  the  butler  oflfered.  You  sat  far 
apart  at  the  long  table,  in  the  places  of  honor 
at  your  host's  and  hostess's  right,  although 
the  other  guests  were  all  Vice-Presidents 
and  their  wives.  The  President  and  his  con- 
sort were  being  terribly  nice  to  you,  and  in- 
specting you,  outside  and  in. 

You  started  with  a  dab  of  fresh  caviar  and 
went  through  five  courses  with  appropriate 
wines,  expertly  served  by  the  butler  and  a 
footman.  You  got  used  to  Mr.  Little's  boom- 
ing voice  and  his  fits  of  abstraction,  when 
he  forgot  you  completely,  and  you  answered 
his  questions.  You  did  not  mention  that  your 
father  was  the  author  of  To  Die  a  Little  or 
even  that  he  w&s  a  novelist. 

You  moved  into  the  living  room  with  the 
rest  of  the  ladies  for  coffee  and  creme  de 
mentlie,  leaving  the  gentlemen  in  the  dining 
room  with  cognac  and  cigars  and  talk  of 
weighty  matters,  which  began  before  you 
were  out  of  earsliot-:  "That  fellow  MacRay's 
coming  in  to  see  me  tomorrow,  Charley, 
about  the  Alabama  leases.  I  think  you'd  bet- 
ter be  there  " 

The  rest  of  the  evening  fell  into  the  Fairlea 
pattern.  The  men  coagulated  at  one  end  of 
the  big  room,  the  women  at  the  other.  Once 
in  a  while,  when  he  could,  Garry  threw 
Michelle  a  furtive  glance  and  a  smile. 

She  sat  correctly  and  spoke  when  she  was 
spoken  to  and  wished  herself  dead. 

Mrs.  Ollivant  maneuvered  her  into  the 
card  room,  where  they  were  alone,  and 
turned  on  her  studied  brightness.  "Well,  my 
dear!  So  nice  seeing  you  again.  Aren't  the  ' 
Littles  charming  ?  " 

"  Wonderful ! "  Michelle  responded  almost 
as  brightly.  "So  sweet  of  them  to  ask  us." 

"They  don't  invite  just  anybody,  you 
know.  Dear,  thoughtful,  gracious  people ! " 

Gracious  people,  gracious  living,  gracious 
her,  gracious  you,  gracious  tne! 

With  a  bright  movement  of  her  eyes,  Mrs. 
Ollivant  indicated  the  settee  against  the 
wall.  "Do  let's  sit  down,  my  dear." 

Michelle  sat,  stiff -backed,  head  up,  hands 
folded  in  lap. 

"What  a  lovely  gown!  Trousseau?" 

"Yes.  Pirelli  of  Beverly  Hills." 

"My  dear!  Rather  .  .  .  daring?  But 
then  " 

"Oh,  do  you  think  it's           I'd  hate  to 

look  troUopy,  especially  " 

"'TroUopy'.?  .  .  .  Oh.  Oh,  no.  It's  a  little 
revealing,  but  perfectly  all  right.  Only  .  .  . 
well,  we  rather  efface  ourselves  as  a  rule. 
Particularly  Junior  Wives.  Conform  to  a 
certain  standard  of  quiet  good  taste  in  ev- 
erything. Not  only  clothes.  What  we  do  and 
say.  And  think." 

"Think?"  Michelle  murmured. 

"What  we  think  is  reflected  in  what  we 
do.  .  .  .  No,  thanks.  I  do  not  smoke.  But 
don't  let  that  stop  you,  my  dear." 

"  I  don't  really  want  one  right  now." 

Suppose,  for  instance,"  Mrs.  Ollivant 

pursued  the  subject,  "a  young  wife  thinks 
housework  is  drudgery,  doesn't  realize  the 
importance  of  a  well-kept  home  to  her  hus- 
band's peace  of  mind.  She  skimps  her  work, 
lets  the  beds  go  till  after  lunch,  leaves  dishes 
unwashed,  dirty  ash  trays  " 

The  woods  are  full  of  little  birds  who  tell 
people  things.  That  morning  I  sal  down  right 
after  breakfast  and  spent  hours  writing  to 
Carol,  and  Toots  Parrish  dropped  in  and 
found  the  place  a  mess. 

"Or,"  said  Mrs.  Ollivant,  who  had  for- 
gotten her  brightness,  "take  a  wife  who 
thinks  the  corporation  demands  too  much  of 
her  husband,  instead  of  appreciating  what  the 
corporation  is  doing  for  both  of  them.  She  can 
work  herself  up  into  a  state  of  nerves.  Until 
she's  ranting  and  raving  about  Slave  Labor." 

Nettie  Carraway's  a  little  bird  too. 

"Thinking— right  thinking— is  so  impor- 
tant. If  a  wife  thinks  she's  a  little  better 
than  the  other  wives  on  her  level,  she  not 


only  gives  offense  but  makes  herself  un- 
happy. What  a  difference  in  the  girls  who 
say  to  themselves,  'This  is  my  part  of  the 
bargain.  I'll  do  this  for  my  husband  in  return 
for  all  he  is  doing  for  me  and  our  future ' ! " 

Michelle  fumbled  out  her  cigarettes  and 
lighted  one  this  time.  "Isn't  the  important 
thing,"  she  asked,  "for  a  wife  to  make  her 
husband  happy?" 

"Ah,  happy!  Happy,  yes.  But  she  must 
understand  what  his  happiness  is.  His  whole 
life  is  wrapped  up  in  his  work.  That's  what 
he  lives  for.  He  is  happy  when  he  is  moving 
up  and  up,  raising  his  standard  of  living, 
being  a  Success." 

"Garry  comes  home  so  tired  " 

"Of  course  he  does.  Poor  Mr.  Ollivant 
comes  home  some  evenings  ready  to  drop. 
Look  at  C.  J.  Little  tonight.  You  don't  know 
him,  of  course,  but  I  can  see  he's  worn  out. 
But  does  he  spare  himself?  Not  for  a  day!" 

Straining  after  the  meclmnical  rabbit  

"I  should  think,"  Michelle  said,  "that  at 
his  age  he  ought  to  take  things  easier." 

"  How  can  he,  my  dear?  The  whole  burden 
is  C.  J.'s,  when  you  come  right  down  to  it. 
Do  you  know  he's  only  fifty-eight?  He  looks 
much  older,  doesn't  he?" 

"  I  had  no  idea  " 

"Well,  in  seven  more  years,  at  sixty-five, 
the  corporation  will  retire  him  and  pay  him 
handsomely  for  the  rest  of  his  life." 

Michelle  got  up  and  stubbed  out  her  ciga- 
rette in  an  ash  tray.  Mrs.  Ollivant  rose  too. 

"So  nice  to  have  had  this  little  talk  with 
you,  Michelle." 

"So  nice  of  you,  Mrs.  Ollivant." 

"You're  sweet,  Michelle.  Any  time  I  can 

help  or  advise  you  I  don't  mind  telling 

you,  my  dear,  that  your  Garry  is  one  of  the 
young  men  being  considered  for  a  very  good 
position  that  will  be  open  before  long.  There 

are  two  or  three  of  the  others    Don't 

breathe  it  to  a  soul." 

This  is  my  part  of  the  bargain.  I'll  do  this 
for  my  husband.  . .  . 

And  when  ht's  sixty-five  

When  I'm  fifty-nine  

Thirty-five  years ! 

She  put  down  the  silver  bowl  of  hollan- 
daise  sauce  and  moved  away  from  the  table. 
"One  more  thing,"  she  said.  She  brought  the 
bottle  in  from  the  kitchen.  "There!" 

"Have  you  been  playing  the  races?" 
Garry  laughed.  "Look  at  it.  Steak,  asparagus 
with  hollandaise  -and  a  bottle  of  red  wine ! " 

"Good  red  wine.  Real  Burgundy.  Pom- 
mard,  1944." 

"  I'm  duly  impressed.  I've  got  to  kiss  the 
cook."  He  touched  his  lips  to  her  cheek. 

"Let's  start,  before  it  gets  cold,"  Mi- 
chelle said  and  went  to  her  chair. 


"How  is  this  done?"  he  asked,  sitting 
down. 

"New  system,"  she  told  him.  "You  must 
have  noticed  all  the  meat  loaves  and 
canned  hashes  and  things  I've  been  giving 
you  lately.  I  was  saving  up  for  this.  It's  ^ 
inside  the  budget." 

"  I  told  you  you're  wonderful." 

"I  like  you  too." 

He  cut  the  steak.  "I've  got  a  scheme  my- 
self," he  said.  "You  remember  about 
Grandpa  Fitch's  farm  in  Vermont  ? " 

"The  one  you're  going  to  show  me  some- 
day?" 

"The  one  I'm  going  to  show  you  over 
Decoration  Day  week  end,  if  you'd  like." 

' '  Like  ?  Oh,  darling !  I 'd  love ! ' ' 

"Decoration  Day's  Friday.  I've  been  a 
good  boy  and  I  can  wangle  Thursday  after- 
noon and  Monday  morning.  We'll  have  three 
full  days  on  the  farm. " 

"Garry!" 

He  passed  her  her  plate.  "  It's  a  little  grim 
in  one  way.  I  had  a  letter  from  Gramp  today. 
Hard  to  read.  He's  all  knotted  up  with 
arthritis.  He  says  he  hasn't  long  to  live- 
he's  had  two  heart  attacks  in  a  year — and  he 
doesn't  want  to  die  without  seeing  the  lovely 
wife  I've  written  him  about.  So  won't  I  bring 
you  up  soon?" 
"Poor  old  soul." 

"He  seems  to  take  it  in  his  stride.  As  if  he 
were  going  away  on  a  little  trip.  He's  a  grand 
old  boy.  I'll  write  him  we're  coming." 

"Send  him  a  night  letter.  Right  after  din- 
ner." 

There  was  nothing  the  matter  with  Grand- 
father Fitch's  mind  or  his  speech  or  hearing 
or  with  his  bright  blue  eyes  that  lurked  in 
wrinkled  pouches.  His  hands  were  knobby 
and  his  back  was  bent,  but  he  got  around  on 
his  stiff  legs  without  help  except  that  of  a 
cane.  He  wore  tweed  jackets  and  baggy 
flannel  trousers  and  queer  shoes  that  were 
like  high  slippers. 

After  dinner  he  brought  an  old,  unlabeled 
bottle  out  of  the  high  oak  cupboard.  He 
drew  the  cork  with  his  gnarled  fingers.  He 
sniffed  the  bottle  and  raised  his  eyebrows. 

"Ever  have  any  real  good  applejack,  Mi- 
chelle?" 

"I've  never  had  any  at  all." 

"Well,  miss,  you're  going  to  have  some 
now.  Our  own  apples,  pressed  in  our  own 
cider  mill,  stilled  in  the  shed.  Twenty  years 
ago.  You  must  have  been  around  that  year, 
Garry.  You  used  to  spend  a  lot  of  time  here 
about  then.  Maybe  you  helped  harvest  the 
apples."  He  filled  the  three  small  glasses. 
"Steadies  my  hand,  taking  care  not  to  spill 
(Continued  on  Page  132) 


\  SJe 


\  Ml  ypes 


"This  one  doesn't  ring  chimes  or  play  soothing  music, 
it  just  hollers,  'Get  out  of  bed,  you  lazy  loafer.'  " 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


from 
any 

angle... 


it's  fine  upholstery 

Decorative!  Practical!  Durable! 
Colors  and  patterns  to  mix  or  match  with 
your  furnishings.  Long  wearing  and 
easy  to  clean.  Luxurious  on  furniture  for 
all  your  rooms.  Free  folder  with  sample. 
Write  The  Masland  Duraleather  Company, 
Dept.  L-5,  Philadelphia  34,  Pa. 

All  Masland  Products  are  also  available  in  Canada. 


ONLY  MASLAND  MAKES  DURAN. 
THIS  TAG  IS  YOUR  PROTECTION. 


(Continued  from  Page  130) 
a  drop."  He  handed  them  glasses.  "Smell  the 
apples?  Taste  it." 

Michelle  sipped  a  few  drops.  "It's  very 
strong,  isn't  it?" 

"No  sense  making  it  weak.  Anybody 
wants  it  weak  can  run  in  water  from  the 
tap." 

"It's  still  wonderful,"  Garry  said. 

"  Lay  down  a  barrel  of  it  every  year.  So  did 
my  father.  And  his  father  too.  Leave  it 
twenty  years,  then  drink  what  we  can  on  the 
farm  and  give  away  the  rest.  How  do  you 
like  it  now,  Michelle?" 

"Oh,  it's  marvelous.  I  like  the  taste  and  it 
doesn't  burn  and  it's  making  me  warm  and 
cheerful  all  over." 

"I'll  leave  you  a  barrel  in  my  will." 

"Just  what  I  need,"  she  laughed. 

The  old  man  seated  himself  in  the  worn 
armchair  and  put  his  feet  on  the  ottoman. 
"Here !  Garry !  Got  myself  all  settled  with  an 
empty  glaL^.  Bring  that  bottle  over,  boy." 

"The  rescue  party's  on  its  way,"  Garry 
said. 

"Can't  have  much  of  it  any  more," 
Grandpa  Fitch  said,  "but  two  or  three  of 
these  little  ones  wouldn't  harm  a  baby. 
Know  about  this  farm.  Michelle?" 

"I  know  it's  been  in  the  family  a  long 
time." 

"Yep.  My  great-great -grandfather  bought 
it  in  1781.  Robert  Fitch.  He  was  one  of  the 
Green  Mountain  Boys.  Built  this  house  that 
same  year.  Handmade  bricks.  My  great- 
grandfather was  born  upstairs.  I  hate  to  see 
it  go  out  of  the  family." 

"Go  out  of  the  family?"  Michelle  re- 
peated. "How?" 

"Well,  I  shouldn't  properly  have  said  I'd 
see  it,  because  I  won't,  but  there's  no  Fitches 
after  me  that  want  it.  Your  young  husband's 
the  last  Fitch  and  he's  an  oil  man.  Rather 
be  a  millionaire  than  a  farmer." 

"I  don't  expect  to  be  a  millionaire, 
Gramp." 

"No?  Well,  your  father  expected  to  be. 
Was,  too,  in  1929,  before  it  all  blew  away  like 
mist  in  the  morning.  .  .  .  Garry's  father  was 
my  only  son,  Michelle.  Went  to  Harvard  and 
got  the  banking  bug.  Made  his  million  and 
lost  it  and  worked  himself  to  death,  try- 
ing to  start  over.  My  father  lived  to  be 
ninety-two.  His  father  was  eighty-nine.  I 
got  to  eighty-four,  anyway.  All  on  this  farm. 
And  my  son  died  when  he  was  fifty.  That's 
banking.  I  don't  know  about  oil.  Maybe  it's 
healthier." 

But  what's  to  become  of  the  farm?  All 
those  beautiful  black-and-white  cows,  and 
the  sugar  maples,  and  the  brook,  and  " 

"And  the  applejack,"  Grandpa  Fitch  said. 
"In  my  will  I'm  leaving  everything  to  my 
four  living  descendants.  Garry  and  his  sister. 
Sheila,  and  my  daughter's  two  girls,  both  of 
them  married.  They'll  have  to  sell  the  farm 
and  divide  up  the  money." 

"Oh,  but  " 

"  Do  you  have  to  be  depressing,  Gramp?  " 
Garry  asked.  "How  about  another  glass  of 
the  family  nectar?" 

"  Who's  being  depressing?  I'm  being  prac- 
tical. I'm  going  to  die  pretty  soon.  Maybe 
tomorrow,  maybe  next  year.  What's  the 
matter  with  that?  I  had  a  good  life,  better 
than  most  men.  .  .  .  Well,  I'm  holding  out 
my  glass." 

Garry  filled  it.  "It's  not  very  pleasant, 
discussing  your  death." 

"Well,  I  don't  like  it  either.  Don't  like  it 
a  bit  but  there's  no  use  not  facing  facts."  He 
tasted  his  fresh  drink.  "What  depresses  me 
is  letting  the  farm  go.  Sell  it  and  you  four 
take  the  money  that  not  one  of  you  needs. 
Garry,  if  you'd  come  and  run  it,  I'd  give  you 
the  whole  farm,  lock,  stock  and  barrel- 
barrels— tomorrow  morning." 

"Oh,  Garry!"  Michelle  breathed. 

He  turned  his  head  and  stared  at  her  in 
blank  astonishment  for  a  moment  before  he 
spoke  to  his  grandfather. 

"I  know  how  you  feel,  Gramp.  I  mean, 
about  the  farm  going  out  of  the  family,  and 
all  that,  but  I'm  really  not  fitted  " 

"Fitted?  Boy,  you've  got  the  shoulders 
of  an  ox.  Good  a  build  for  a  farmer  as  I  ever 
saw.  How  tall  are  you?  Six-three?" 


"Two  and  a  half.  But  I  didn't  mean  that. 
I've  studied  administration  and  manage- 
ment. I've  got  a  business  career  started, 
something  I  know  how  to  do." 

"Little  Garry  would  love  it  here,"  Michelle 
said. 

Grandpa  Fitch  knocked  his  cane  over. 
"What's  this?  You  two  expecting  a  baby?" 

"Not  really,"  Michelle  said.  "Not  just 
yet.  Little  Garry's  a  family  joke." 

"Oh,"  the  old  man  said.  "A  new  Fitch 
would  be  something  to  live  for." 

Three  glorious  days. 

Grandpa  Fitch  showed  them  the  spotless, 
nearly  odorless  cow  barn,  the  milking  ma- 
chines and  the  rest  of  its  equipment.  He  in- 
troduced them  to  Joe  and  Josie,  the  draft 
horses,  who  seemed  to  be  having  a  day  off. 
("Tractors  are  more  efficient,  but  a  tractor 
won't  nuzzle  you  for  a  lump  of  sugar.  Here, 
Michelle.  Give  this  to  Josie.") 

Garry  and  Michelle  patted  soft-eyed  calves 
and  laughed  at  the  great  sow  and  her  litter 
of  permanently  hungry  piglets  and  found  a 
rust-colored  cat  whose  four  variously  marked 
kittens  amounted  to  a  confession.  They 
climbed  a  path  up  the  steep  side  of  the  valley 
behind  the  farm  and  stood  very  still,  holding 
hands,  in  a  wooded  glade  to  watch  the  chip- 
munks at  work  and  play.  They  explored  the 
brook,  jumping  perilously  from  stone  to 
stone,  and  could  not  resist  a  quick  bathe 
in  the  icy  water.  Afterward,  they  sat  on  a 
warm,  smooth  rock  and  let  the  sun  dry  them. 

They  found  themselves  enormously  hun- 
gry and  feasted  on  homemade  bread  and  the 
morning's  eggs  and  butter  churned  in  the 
summer  kitchen  and  cream  almost  too  thick 
to  pour.  They  visited  Mrs.  Rivers  in  Gramp's 
farmer's  house  at  the  bend  of  the  road  and 
played  with  Bill  and  Ada's  baby.  In  the 
evenings  they  sat  and  talked  with  Grandpa 
Fitch— listened  mostly.  They  slept  in  a 
great,  creaky  double  bed  under  a  crazy  quilt 
some  earlier  Mrs.  Fitch  with  an  eye  for  color 
had  made. 

On  Monday  morning,  while  Garry  put 
their  bags  into  the  car,  Michelle  hugged 
Grandpa  Fitch  and  kissed  him  on  both 
cheeks  and  told  him  (which  was  true)  that 
she  had  never  spent  three  happier  days. 

By  eleven  o'clock  they  were  back  at  167 
Willow  Road  and  at  11 :43  Garry  was  on  a 
train  for  New  York.  Fairlea  and  the  Calitex 
Family,  which  had  seemed  incredible,  like 
a  muddled  dream,  were  undeniable  facts 
again.  It  was  the  farm  in  Vermont  that  was 
hard  to  believe. 

Mr.  Laney  gave  Garry  only  a  few  hours' 
notice  of  the  trip  that  would  probably  keep 
him  away  for  two  weeks.  Garry  came  home 
on  an  early  train,  packed  before  dinner 
(luckily,  the  laundry  was  back)  and  had  to 
leave  again  on  the  9:22  to  catch  a  night  plane 
for  the  West.  He  would  telegraph  from  Los 
Angeles  and  write  Michelle  an  itinerary  as 
soon  as  he  got  things  sorted  out.  He'd  be 
back  before  she  knew  it,  he  said,  and  broke 
off  his  kiss  to  look  at  his  watch.  .  .  . 

He  was  gone  again. 

The  Calitex  Family  rallied  round.  Toots 
Parrish  brought  her  mending  over  and  stayed 
for  a  lunch  of  bottled  Welsh  rabbit  on 
crackers.  Alice  Young  treated  Michelle  to 
the  new  Western  picture  she  was  taking  her 
boys  to  see.  Nettie  Carraway  got  up  an  after- 
noon of  canasta  with  beer  and  sandwiches. 
Michelle  went  to  dinner  at  the  other  houses 
in  rapid  succession.  The  Team  Spirit  was 
suffocating. 

She  offered  no  one  any  explanation  of  her 
day-long  trips  to  New  York  or  of  the  big 
portfolio  they  probably  saw  her  take  with 
her. 

The  magazine  art  "editors  were  interested 
in  her  work  but  had  nothing  suited  to  her 
style  just  now,  and  took  her  name  and 
address.  The  advertising-agency  art  directors 
were  as  politely  appreciative  and  as  willing  to 
have  her  name  and  a  description  of  her  work 
in  their  files,  in  case  anything  turned  up.  She 
took  their  names,  too,  and  chee'  ed  them  ofif 
in  her  little  book.  v 

She  was  tired  and  about  read,  to  abandon 
her  folly,  by  the  afternoon  of  I  he  third  day, 
when  she  walked  into  the  lit.ered  office  of 


1)1  K 


II     II    M  I 


I'aiil  MacArran,  art  director  of  Harcurt. 
AlkinsoM  &  Steel.  He  was  a  youiiKisli  iniddle- 
i^'.cd  Mian  witli  a  sun-l)rowned  face  and  a  lot 
ol  disorderly  ^irayiiiK  li^;lil  hair.  He  placed 
In  r  drawinns  on  an  easel  and  studied  iheni. 

When  he  fame  to  the  I'irelli  spring  an- 
nonnceinent,  he  bent  forward  lor  a  closer 
look,  and  said,  "Say!"  'I'heii  while  Muhelle 
looked  out  the  IukIi  window,  he  went  through 
the  other  pictures.  "Miss  C  arton,  I  heheve 
\i)u're  the  artist  I'vi'  tu'cn  looking  for.  t  ome 
;in(l  sit  down.  I'irelli  of  Beverly  Hills,  huh? 
Y  ou've  been  working  on  the  t'o.asl  ?" 

"I  started  last  year.  Then  I  ko'  married 
.111(1  (|uit.  Now  I'd  liki'  to  net  ^;olnK  aKain." 

He  ran  his  lingers  through  his  hair.  "Tell 
you  w'lat  I'm  lhinkin^^  of.  We've  not  an  ac- 
count (leneral  Synthetics  make  fabricsof 
synthetic  yarns.  Wonderful  stuff,  but  they're 
lifter  tile  tiling  lhat'scalled  C  hic.  Our  people 
think  it  can  be  (k)ne  with  art  work.  Color 
pa,iies.  Hut  we  don't  want  i)ictures  from  the 
established  people,  same  old  artists  every- 
body uses.  We've  bei'ii  looking  for  somelxidy 
fresh,  a  new  approach,  but    chic.  See?" 

"  I  think  so." 

"Well,  you're  new.  I  liki'  your  use  of  color. 
I  like  your  drawint;.  That's  why  I  think 
you're  the  one  I've  been  looking  for." 

They  talked  about  it.  They  made  sketches 
and  chaiiKed  them  and  understood  each  other 
perfectly.  He  dictated  a  memorandum,  had 
it  typed  and  save  her  the  original. 

"You're  not  no\n^  to  get  any  such  fan- 
tastic prices  as  we  pay  Pouilly  or  Farougian," 
he  said   "One  of  my  arguments  is  going 
to  be  that  I  can  get  you 
cheap.  But  this  series'll  es- 
tablish you  and  you  can 
run  your  price  up.  If  it 
.goes  through-  I'll  have  to 
gel  an  O.K.  from  Joe 
Pratl,  the  account  execu- 
tive, but  he  usually  lakes 
my  recommendalions — we 
can  give   you  Iwo-lifly 
apiece  for  four  pages.  How 
does  lhal  strike  you?  A  thousand  for  four 
paintings" 

"I'd  have  taken  less." 

"Sh-h-h-h!  Never  say  such  things.  Where 
can  I  gel  you  on  the  phone?" 

"Fairlea  one — five-two-four-one." 

"  I'll  call  you  before  I  leave  here  tonight." 
He  lighted  his  pipe  for  the  two-dozenth 
time.  "You  said  you  quit  when  you  got 
married.  Is  the  marriage  olT?" 

"Oh,  no!  Good  heavens,  no!" 

Paul  MacArran  said.  "Beg  your  pardon." 

"In  fact,"  she  said.  "I'm  worrying  about 
where  I'll  work.  I  don't  think  my  husband's 
going  to  approve.  He's  in— well,  a  big  corpo- 
ration lhal  doesn't  allow  its  executives'  wives 
to  have  separate  careers." 

"Doesn't  allow?" 

"Well,  there 'd  be  a  fuss  if  they  knew.  In 
fact,  I'm  only  going  to  sign  my  first  name: 
Michelle." 

"Michelle?  Good.  Chic.  You  mean  you're 
not  going  to  tell  your  husband  about  this?" 

"Not  yet.  anyway.  Later,  when  I  make 
some  money  out  of  it.  will  be  lime  enough." 

"That's  your  business,  not  mine." 

"I  think  I'll  try  to  find  a  little  studio 
somewhere  near  Fairlea.  He's  at  the  ofifice  all 
day — he's  away  just  now.  but  he'll  be  back 
soon—and  he  wouldn't  need  to  know." 

The  art  director  puffed  at  his  pipe.  He 
said.  "A  studio  near  Fairlea,  hah?" 

"Half  an  hour's  drive  or  so." 

"Timmsbury,  for  instance?" 

"That  would  be  ideal,  but  I'd  settle  " 

"Miss  Carton — Mrs.  what?" 

"Mrs.  Garrison  Fitch." 

"Mrs.  Garrison  Fitch,  it  so  happens  that 
I  live  in  Timmsbury.  Got  a  little  three-room 
house  and  a  barn  that's  fixed  up  as  a  studio. 
I  paint  on  my  week  ends  and  vacations. 
Mondays  through  Fridays  my  studio  be- 
longs to  the  mice.  Would  you  like  to  use  it?" 

She  stared  at  him.  "  You'll  rent  it  to  me?  " 

"Why?  It's  there." 

"But  I'd  rather  have  a  business  arrange- 
ment." 

"Two  ounces  of  cheese  a  day  for  the  mice. 
They're  the  only  ones  you'll  be  bothering." 
"No,  really.  I  hate  accepting  favors." 


When  children  sound  silly, 
you  will  always  find  that  it 
is  in  imitation  of  their  eld- 
ers. —  ERNEST  DIMNET 


"All  right  If  tins  deal  goes  Ihrounh,  you 
can  pay  me  live  dollars  a  week"  lie  got  if) 
his  feet.  "A  bargain?" 

She  took  the  brown  hand  hi-  ollcri-d. 

"I'll  phone  you  at  that  Kaiilea  mimlK-r  as 
s<H)n  as  I've  seen  I'ralt.  Oh.  Uave  me  that 
I'lri  lh  lliing.  will  yon?  (i<K)d.  I'm  sure  you'll 
V'l-l  tlu'  job." 

She  did. 

She  lelt  I'airlea  every  morning  while  the 
C  alitex  wives  were  busy  at  their  housework 
and  drove  back  late  in  the  afternoons  when 
they  were  getting  ready  to  meet  their  hus- 
bands at  the  station.  The  drive,  most  of  it  on 
the  Parkway.  t(K)k  twenty  minutes.  She 
carried  her  own  sandwiches  and  a  vacuum 
bottle  of  coffee  for  lunch  and  workefl  loni' 
days  thai  passed  (|uickly  in  concenlr.ii  mn 

l*AUi.  m,.\(.:ai<i<an's  studio  was  big  enoui  li 
for  half  a  do/en  artists,  perfectly  lighted  l)\ 
broad  north  windows.  1 1  was  incredibly 
clean,  and  Michelle  swept  and  dusted  it  each 
day  before  she  U'fl.  The  mice  were  ;i  lli^hl 
of  fancy. 

She  worked  at  to|)  sixrd.  knowing  pre- 
cisely what  she  wanted  to  do.  |)ainting  better 
than  she  had  ever  thought  she  could.  Per- 
haps, at  this  rate,  she  could  have  all  four 
pictures  done  before  Garry  got  home. 

And  her  work  was  .good.  There  was  a  note 
pinned  to  the  easel  one  morning: 

Dtar  Miss  Carton:  Wonderful!  Mucli  heller 
than  even  I  had  hoped  for.  Keep  it  uj)! 

You'll  have  to  forgive  me 
for  peeking  but  I'm  curious 
and  I  couldn't  help  it.  And 
I'm  glad.  I  couldn't  be  hap- 
pier, and  I  hopcyoucoulfln't, 
cil  her. 

Your  servant, 

MacA. 


One  woman  tells  another 


It  shouldn't  have,  but 
the  feeling  of  accomplish- 
ment even  cased  her  sense 
of  guilt  about  going  a,gainsl  Garry's  wishes 
and  keeping  a  secret  from  him.  He  wrote  to 
her  every  night  and  she  air-mailed  letters  to 
each  hotel  on  the  itinerary  she  had  stuck  into 
the  corner  of  the  living-room  mirror.  But  she 
was  uncomfortable  as  she  wrote,  suppressing 
the  subject  that  was  the  focus  of  her  atten- 
tion, and  expanding  whatever  trivialities  she 
could  think  of. 

She  saw  the  Parrishes  and  the  Youngs  and 
the  Carraways  in  the  evenings  and  went  on  a 
picnic  with  them  all  on  the  first  Sunday  of 
Garry's  absence.  The  strain  in  their  faces 
and  the  things  they  said  made  it  all  too 
evident  that  the  wives  were  suspicious  of  her 
daily  absences,  but  none  of  them  asked  a 
direct  question.  Michelle  grew  expert  at 
vague  chatter  to  parry  their  hints  and 
innuendoes. 

The  nosiness  of  Toots  and  Alice  and  Nettie 
was  something  to  which  she  had  not  given 
serious  consideration,  and  it  would  have  to 
be  dealt  with  somehow.  As  soon  as  she  fin- 
ished the  four  paintings  for  MacArran — 
maybe  before  that ;  maybe  as  soon  as  Garry 
got  home — she  was  going  to  make  a  full  con- 
fession of  her  venture.  Then  she  and  Garry 
could  take  up  the  difficulties  one  by  one  and 
decide  what  to  do. 

The  telegram  from  the  lawyer  in  Rutland 
made  her  forget  everything  else: 

GARRISON  FITCH 

167  WILLOW  ROAD  FAIRLEA  CT 
DEEPLY  REGRET  TO  INFORM  YOU  YOUR 
GRANDFATHER  JOHN  ROGERS  FITCH  PASSED 
AWAY  QUIETLY  IN  HIS  SLEEP  LAST  NIGHT 
FUNERAL  FRIDAY  TEN  A  M  AT  CONGREGA- 
TIONAL CHURCH  EAST  BAINEVILLE  VER- 
MONT JAMES  K  ALMAN  ATTY 

Michelle  cried  a  little  and  hoped  that 
Grandpa  Fitch,  wherever  he  might  be,  knew 
she  did. 

"/  gol  to  be  eighty-jour,  anyway.  .  .  ." 

"  I'll  leave  you  a  barrel  in  my  will  .  .  ." 

"  Don't  like  it  a  bit  .  .  ." 

The  long-distance  operator  was  ready  with 
Garry  in  Houston  almost  immediately. 

"Hello,"  he  said.  "Mike!  Is  that  you?" 

"Yes,  Garry.  There's  a  telegram  here 
from  a  lawyer  in  Vermont.  Poor  Grandpa 
Fitch  died  in  his  sleep  last  night." 


II 


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134 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


WE  FRENCH  CAUL  IT  ^ 

V  And  you'll  call  this 

V   (QWEESW)    Bacon'n  Egg  Olive  Pie  the  tastiest 


)    Bacon'n  Egg  Olive  Pie  the  tastiest 


dish  you've  made  in  years! 


1/2  teaspoon  dry  mustard 
3  eggs 

2  cups  grated  (s^^arp) 

American  ctieese 
Pastry  for  single 
9-inch  crust 


Olive  Pie) 

1  cup  ripe  olives 
4  slices  bacon 
%  cup  finely 

chopped  onion 
1 1/2  cups  milk 
1  teaspoon  salt 

Cut  olives  from  pits  into  large  pieces.  Cut 
bacon  into  small  pieces  and  fry  until  cnsp 
Remove  bacon  from  pan  and  drain  ott  all 
but  1  tablespoon  fat.  Cook  onion  slowly  in 
remaining  bacon  fat  until  transparent.  Add 
milk,  salt  and  mustard,  and  heat  to  scald- 
ing. Beat  eggs  lightly  and  stir  in  cheese. 
Add  hot  milk  slowly  to  egg  and  cheese 
mixture.  Blend  in  olives  and  bacon.  Turn 
into  pastry-lined  pie  pan.  Bake  in  very  hot 
oven  (450  degrees  F. )  10  minutes.  Reduce 
heat  to  moderate  (350  degrees  F.).  Bake 
''5  to  35  minutes  longer  or  until  set  in  cen- 
ter Cool  5  or  10  minutes  before  serving. 


DON'T  FORGET 


FROM  CALIFORNIA 

Elegant  in  so  many  ways    On  your 

table,  on  appetizer  trays,  as  a  flavor- 
giving  ingredient,  ripe  olives  give  added 
elegance.  Inexpensive,  too  —  use  ihem 
generously.  For  free  booklet  "Elegant 
but  Easy  Recipes  with  California  Ripe 
Olives,"  write  Olive  Advisory  Board, 
Dept.  D-5,  24  California  Street,  San 
Francisco  11,  California. 


by 
the 


COLA 


lere's  refreshing  news!  Now  you 
can  treat  your  family  and  friends  to  a 
new,  more  delicious  cola  conveniently, 
economically.  New  Spur  Cola  comes 
in  a  big,  economy-size  bottle  ciud  in  a 
new,  handy,  2-bottle  Budget-Pak.  You 
get  ten  generous  glasses  of  rich,  whole- 
some cola  for  only  a  few  pennies  a 
glassful.  Think  how  easily  you  can  chili 
two  big  bottles  in  your  icebox  instead 
of  a  lot  of  little  ones.  Think  how  con- 
venient it  is  to  uncap  just  one 
bottle  and  fill  five  glasses.  Then 
buy  Canada  Dry  Spur  Cola  by 
the  Budget-Pak  today. 


I  have  been  a 
all  my  life, 
though  not  in 


"Oh,"  Garry  said.  "Well,  that's  too  bad. 
You  scared  me,  Mike.  They  got  me  out  of  a 
meeting.  Said  Fairlea  was  calling.  I  thought 
something  terrible  had  happened." 

"Well,  isn't  this  terrible  enough?" 

"H'm-m?  Oh.  Sure.  But  we  knew  it  was 
going  to  happen  soon.  Even  Gramp." 

"I'm  sorry.  I  thought  The  funeral's 

Friday  in  that  little  white  church  we  went  to. 
Don't  you  think  we  ought  to  be  there?" 

"What?"  He  was  angry.  "Mike,  listen. 
I'm  in  Houston,  Texas.  On  business.  I'll  be 
lucky  if  I  have  time  to  go  to  my  own  fu- 
neral. Send  flowers  from  us  both.  Something 
lavish." 

"All  right.  Garry,  how  are  you?  Not  too 
tired?" 

"I'm  all  right,  but  I've  got  to  get  back." 
"When  will  you  be  home,  darling?" 
"The  Lxjrd  knows.  Another  week  or  so.  I 
can't  go  on  talking,  Mike." 

"All  right.  I'm  sorry  I  startled  you." 
"Oh,  that's  all  right.  Good-by,  Mike." 
"Good-by,  Garry." 

She  couldn't  have  said  whether  her  tears 
then  were  for  Grandpa  Fitch  or  for  herself. 

It  would  have  been  easy  enough  to  follow 
the  Fitches'  car  on  the  Parkway,  if  she 
hadn't  had  to  keep  back  so  that  Michelle 
wouldn't  notice  her.  A  red  traffic  light  caught 
Toots  Parrish  and  by  the  time  it  changed 
the  dark-blue  sedan  was  nowhere  in  sight. 
She  turned  back.  There  would  be  other  days. 

Garry  pushed  his  suitcase  against  the  wall 
by  the  clothes  tree.  "  How's  everything?  "  he 
asked  Amanda.  "  I  feel  as 
if  I'd  been  away  twelve 
years." 

"  I  began  to  feel  that 
way  too.  Everything's  un- 
der control." 

"One  woman's  opin- 
ion," he  said,  pointing  at 
the  stacked-full  mahogany 
box  marked  IN. 

"Nothing  very  impor- 
tant in  that.  Reports,  office  memos.  I'll 
run  through  'em  with  you,  if  you  like." 

He  opened  his  mouth  wide  and  swallowed. 
"Still  deaf  from  the  plane."  he  said.  "Let's 
get  my  home  on  the  phone.  I  didn't  have 
time  to  wire  last  night." 

Amanda  went  out  of  the  room.  Garry 
stretched  and  yawned  and  his  hearing  came 
back  with  a  whoosh.  He  placed  the  brief  case 
on  the  desk  and  took  a  cigarette  from  the 
monogrammed  silver  box. 

The  telephone  buzzed. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  expecting  Michelle's  voice. 

"Hello,  Garry?"  It  was  a  man. 

"Speaking." 

"Harper  Ollivant  here.  Glad  to  know 
you're  back.  Can  you  come  up  for  a  little 
talk?" 

"Right  away." 

Passing  her  desk,  he  spoke  to  Amanda: 
"Better  cancel  that  Fairlea  call.  I'm  going  to 
see  Mr.  Ollivant." 

"Your  home  didn't  answer,"  she  said.  He 
took  the  swift  elevator  to  the  twenty-ninth 
floor  and  was  impressed  once  more  by  the 
quiet,  thick-carpeted  dignity  of  the  recep- 
tion room  up  there. 

"Mr.  Ollivant  sent  for  me,"  he  told  the 
white-haired  woman  at  the  desk,  who  would 
have  looked  more  probable  behind  a  silver 
tea  service. 

"Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Fitch.  Go  right  in." 

Harper  ollivant  took  the  freshly  lighted 
cigar  out  of  his  mouth,  leaned  back  in  his 
chair,  and  extended  his  hand.  "  Well,  Garry ! " 

"Good  morning,  sir." 

"Just  get  in?"  Mr.  Ollivant  asked. 

"The  plane  was  an  hour  late.  Some  trou- 
ble at  Dallas  in  the  night." 

"I  see.  I'll  want  another  talk  with  you 
later,  when  we  have  more  time.  About  Carson 
in  Oklahoma  City.  I'm  not  at  all  sure  about 
him.  ...  Sit  down,  Garry." 

Garry  sank  into  the  deep  leather  chair  by 
the  desk. 

Mr.  Ollivant  sucked  at  his  cigar  and  blew 
out  smoke  without  inhaling  it.  "  In  my  long 
experience,"  he  said,  "the  best  time  to  do  or 
say  anything  unpleasant  is  right  away.  I  don't 


selflsh  being 
in  practice, 
principle. 


—JANE  AUSTEN 


like  to  greet  you  with  this,  the  minute  you  set 
foot  in  the  office,  but  it's  the  wisest  thing." 

Garry  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  bifocal 
lenses  whose  reflections  hid  the  vice-presi- 
dent's eyes.  The  palms  of  his  hands  were 
damp. 

"That  promotion  I  spoke  to  you  about, 
Garry.  I  shouldn't  have  mentioned  it,  of 
course.  Never  ought  to  discuss  things  that 
haven't  been  decided.  We  had  two  confer- 
ences about  it,  talked  it  over  from  all  angles. 
In  the  end  we  decided  on  Tremblay." 

"I  see,  sir.  Tremblay's  a  good  man." 

Mr  .  OLLIVANT  balanced  his  cigar  on  the  ash 
tray  and  leaned  forward.  "Yes.  A  good  man. 
He'll  be  entirely  satisfactory.  But  he  hasn't 
your  ability,  Garry.  Your  presence,  your" 
force.  You're  the  kind  of  man  we  want  at  the 
top.  A  year  ago  I'd  have  said  that  nothing 
could  hold  you  back." 
A  year  ago? 

"I  want  you  to  take  this  in  the  spirit  in 
which  it  is  said,  Garry.  As  an  older  member 
of  the  Family,  vastly  more  experienced,  to  a 
younger.  It's  not  easy  for  either  of  us." 

Michelle? 

"Frankly,  the  final  decision  was  based  on 
the  fitness  of  the  Tremblays  as  a  couple.  Do 
you  know  Grace  Tremblay?" 
"No,  sir.  I've  never  met  her." 
"She's  an  ideal  wife  for  a  young  man  in 
Calitex.  Sarah  Lawrence  graduate.  Spent 
two  or  three  years  in  the  research  department 
of  an  advertising  agency,  knows  something 
of  business  and  businessmen.  Makes  friends 
easily.  Helpful,  co-operative,  has  the  Team 
Spirit  that's  so  impor- 
tant. .  .  .  This  position 
Tremblay's  taking  under 
McClure  is  going  to  in- 
volve a  good  deal  of  out- 
of-hours  contact  with  big 
people.  Lands  and  Leases 
is  a  high-level  operation. 
We  decided  on  the  Trem- 
bla/s." 

The  hot  blood  that  had 
suffused  Garry's  face  had  drained  away. 
"Mr.  Ollivant,  in  ordinary  loyalty  to  my 

wife,  I'm  not  going  to  sit  here  and  " 

"Now,  now,  now!"  The  vice-president 
waved  his  cigar.  "Let  me  finish.  Mrs. 
Fitch — Michelle — is  charming,  more  than 
charming.  She  is  beautiful.  She  is  a  lady.  She 
has  a  very  high  order  of  intelligence.  But, 
Garry,  hul  she  lacks  the  much  more  ordinary 
qualities  we  value  so  highly." 
Mr.  Ollivant  ticked  them  off  on  his  fingers: 
"She  does  not  accept  her  present  position 
in  the  Calitex  Family  in  a  spirit  of  co-opera- 
tion. She  does  not  make  friends  easily. 
Friends,  that  is,  in  the  Family  and  on  her 
own  level.  Clearly,  she  is  devoted  to  you,  but 
she  is  not  devoted  to  the  work  that  is  your 
life.  On  one  occasion,  she  spoke  of  your 
position  with  the  corporation  as  slave  labor. 
Now,  really ! " 

-  "I  never  heard  her  say  that." 

"No.  She  said  it  to  .  .  .  someone  else.  It 
would  serve  no  useful  purpose  for  me  to  go 
into  more  detail.  Point  is,  (iarry,  your  wife  is 
doing  you  no  good  in  the  organization,  doing 
you  some  harm,  I'm  afraid.  I'm  simply  tell- 
ing you  this.  It's  your  problem.  I  advise  you 
to  give  it  your  attention." 

Mr.  Ollivant  held  his  hand  out  again  to 
indicate  the  interview  was  at  an  end.  Garry 
took  it  briefly. 

"No  hard  feelings,  eh,  my  boy?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Good.  We'll  have  that  talk  about  Carson. 
Maybe  tomorrow." 

Garry  called  his  extension  from  the  tele- 
phone in  the  Executive  Reception  Room. 
"Miss  Stowe?  I'm  going  out  for  a  little  while. 
Be  back  after  lunch." 

Against  his  rigid  rule,  he  had  a  double 
Martini  before  he  gave  his  order. 

"  Darling ! "  Michelle  whispered.  He  looked 
pale  and  tired.  She  pressed  his  arm  against 
her  and  turned  her  head  for  the  trainside 
peck  on  the  cheek.  "Oh,  I'm  so  glad  you're 
back!" 

His  smile  was  tired  too.  "Well!  How  are 
you?  All  right?" 

{Coyilinued  on  Page  136) 


I    \   1 1    I  I 


II    n    \!     1         I    u    I      |(     \     \  I 


Wear-Ever  Layer  Cake  Pans  turn 
oul  (I'lidcr  cakes  «  \civ  time 

K"  X  I  '  ,",  55c'.  AImo  iV  X  Hizo. 


MOST  POPULAR  WEAR-EVER  OVEN  UTENSILS 


Wear-Ever  Meal  Loaf  and  Bread 

Pan.  Sl  I  I 111^;,  Moliil ,  dura  I  ill'  (^liK  k  , 

CVfll     llClllill){     lIHHUrCM  (ll-licllltIM 


Wear-Ever  Muffin  and 
Cup  Cake  Pans.  '>  unl  12- 

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Wear-Ever  Square  Cake  Pant, 

.i/<'<l  (ur  n  aily  mix  <aki  H.  H"  x  2", 
80c  •.  AIhi,  9"  X  1  HW. 


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Many  u.scs;  a  rcCrincrator  "crisp- 
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Wear-Ever  Tubed  Cake  Pans. 

I'arly  si/,c,  willi  casy-oul  loose  hot- 
loin  and  cooling  Iu^h.  9-'.'i"  x  4  3<i", 
$1.95*.  Also  with  solid  bottom 


Wear-Ever  Lazy  Suzy 
Cooky  CuMer.Musi  roll  out 
cookies  and  bake-,  (^uts 
attractive  shapes.  $1.50* 


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l''or  cream  piifT.s,  macaroons,  bis- 
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Meat  loaf,  macaroni  and  cheese,  sal- 
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Wear-Ever  Alumilite 
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83  2"  and  10"  sizes.  83^^", 


65^ 


Wear-Ever  Alumilite  Mixing 
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size,  $1.25* 


Wear-Ever  Foil  protects»food  freshness  and 
flavor.jj^Keeps  broiler,  oven  clean.  Wrapped 
roasts  are  juicier,  shrink  less.  Available  in 
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These  Pans  Improve  Baking  2  Ways  .rrandJEndure 


Wear-Ever  oven  pans  are  either  bright 
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1.  BRIGHT.These  permit  just  the  right 
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ONLY  ALUMINUM  CAN  CONTROL 
HEAT  ABSORPTION  THIS  WAY 

Each  Wear-Ever  Pan  is  scientifically 
made  and  kitchen-tested  to  give  best 
results.  It  may  cost  a  trifle  more,  but 
for  a  lifetime 
you'll  always 


be  glad  you 
have  the  best. 


See  Wear-Ever  on  fhe  ALCOA  Television  Program 
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W  W  Ili^Ml  m        1^1  V  I  m      The  Aluminum  Cooking  Utensil  Co.,  Inc.,  Dept.  1805,  New  Kensington,  Pa. 


136 


LADIES 


HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


c 


OlOrlul  as  a  Peacock... 


Beautiful 

kenFlex  FI 


oors 


VINVU  TIUE 


stay  shining  clean  with  damp  mo j) pings. 


At  last,  here's  a  floor  that's  really  easy 
to  clean . . .  that  saves  you  hours  of 
housework  and  gives  you  the  prettiest, 
clearest,  stay-bright  colors  available 
in  vinyl  tile  today!  It's  true!  New 
KenFlex  never  needs  scrubbing.  Ordi- 
nary dirt,  bleaches,  cleaning  fluids . . . 
even  inks  and  ruinous  greases  wipe 
up  quickly,  easily,  without  leaving  a 
mar  or  a  stain!  Doesn't  even  need 
waxing  except  to  give  its  lustrous 

KENTIL-E:  .  KENCORK  •  K 

©1953  Kentiie,  lnc.,58  2nd 
KenFlex  colors  shown:  Lime  Green, 


surface  an  even  brighter  gleam. 

It's  Easy  and  Economical  to  Install 
KenFlex  Yourself:  Kitchen  below 
(6'xl2'9")  costs  only  $26.75.  Dining 
area  (7'6"xl0'6")  costs  $24.50.  Cost 
may  vary  depending  on  size  of  room 
and  freight  rates.  See  your  Kentile, 
Inc.  Dealer.  He's  listed  under  floors 
in  your  Classified  Telephone  Di- 
rectory. In  Canada, 
T.  Eaton  Co.,  Ltd. 


Guaianteed  by 
Good  Housekeeping  j 


ENRUBBER 

Ave,,  Brooklyn  15,  N.Y. 
Shannon  Green  and  White  Ivy 


DVtPTIStP 

KENFLEX 


(Continued  from  Page  134) 
"  I'll  be  all  right  now.  Come  on." 
The  home-coming  kiss,  always  saved  for 

the  privacy  of  the  front  hall,  was  not  a 

striking  success. 

"  Go  along  and  wash  and  I'll  have  cocktails 

ready  when  you  come  down.  Fatted  calf  for 

dinner." 

"Be  with  you  in  a  minute."  He  picked  up 
the  suitcase  and  climbed  the  stairs.  Wearily, 
she  thought. 

She  made  four-to-one  Martinis  and  used 
extra-large  twists  of  lemon  to  kill  the  taste 
of  the  gin.  He  drank  the  first  in  an  unprece- 
dented gulp  and  she  gave  him  a  second. 

"Be  it  ever  so  humble,"  she  said,  raising 
her  glass. 

His  smile  turned  down  at  one  end  and  he 
swallowed  half  the  cocktail. 

"Garry  ...  I  thought  you  were  just  tired. 
Is  there  something  the  matter?" 

"I'm  tired  and  there's  something  the 
matter." 

"Darling!" 

"Remember  some  light  conversation 
about  a  promotion  into  Lands  and  Leases?" 

"Yes.  Did  it  fall  through?" 

"With  a  dull  thud.  They  gave  it  to  Frank 
Tremblay." 

"Oh,  Garry,  I'm  so  sorry!  Who's  Frank 
Tremblay?" 

"A  silly  little 
man  out  of  Produc- 
tion. He  giggles.  But 
his  wife  co-operates. 
Mine  "  He  emp- 
tied his  glass  again. 

Michelle  looked 
into  his  blue  eyes  and 
saw  a  muscle  tighten 
at  each  side  of  his 
jaw.  Icy  emptiness 
started  at  the  pit  of 
her  stomach  and 
spread  through  her. 

She  asked.  "Who 
told  you  this?" 

"It's  from  the 
horse's  mouth.  Olli- 
vant." 

"What  did  he  say 
about  your  wife?" 

"She  doesn't  ac- 
cept her  position.  She 
doesn't  make  friends 

on  her  own  level.  She  is  not  interested  in  her 
husband's  work.  She  is  doing  him  no  good 
and  some  harm.  She's  beautiful,  charming, 
intelligent.  But."  He  raised  his  eyes  to  hers. 
"Did  you  tell  somebody  I  was  a  slave 
laborer?" 

"  I  should  have  bitten  my  tongue  off  first ! " 

"Yes.  What  precisely  did  you  mean?" 

She  jumped  up  and  faced  him  across  the 
table.  "What  precisely?  I  meant  precisely 
what  I  said.  You  are  a  slave  laborer.  There's 
an  illusion  of  freedom,  of  course.  You  could 
leave.  But  that  would  mean  you'd  failed: 
that's  what  it  would  mean  to  you. 

"  You're  allowed  to  feel  important  on  your 
own  level.  You  give  orders  too.  You're  a 
coming  young  man.  If  you  keep  your  place- 
above  all,  if  you  keep  your  wife  in  her 
place,  conforming,  thinking  the  prescribed 
thoughts,  praying  each  night  to  the  corpora- 
tion—if you  and  your  wife  give  satisfac- 
tion .  . . then  what? 

"Why,  you  move  up  in  the  race,  one  place 
at  a  time,  one  place  nearer  to  the  mechanical 
rabbit  that's  always  just  ahead.  Until  you're 
sixty-five— only  thirty-five  more  years!— 
and  then  the  rabbit  goes  into  its  slot  and  you 
retire.  Panting,  lolling  your  tongue,  trem- 
bling all  over." 

It  was  as  if  she  had  been  slapping  him 
across  the  face.  His  freckles  stood  out  against 
his  pallor.  He  licked  his  upper  lip  and 
swallowed. 

"That's  certainly  one  way  of  looking  at  it, 
Michelle." 

"Garry!"  she  said.  "Garry,  dearest  dar- 
ling! Garry,  I  love  you!  That's  the  trouble, 
don't  you  see?" 

He  held  her  in  his  strong  arms,  tight 
against  his  chest,  until  she  stopped  her  con- 
vulsive sobbing.  Then  he  kissed  her  wet 
cheeks  and  gave  her  his  handkerchief. 


0OOOOOOOOOOGO 


WITH  THE  CHILDREN 

"I  don't  know  whether  she  is  the 
nicest  girl  I  know  or  not — I  just  know 
I  feel  comfortable  with  her." 

"Oh,  mom,  relax  —  don't  bother  about 
the  house  —  we  love  you  most  when 
things  are  kind  of  sloppy." 

Our  eldest  returning  from  his  first 
session  of  dancing  school:  "it  was  fun 
but  1  don't  see  why  a  girl  old  enough 
to  go  to  dancing  school  can't  hold  her 
own  coat  on  the  way  out." 

— KATHRYN  COFFEY  GLENNON 

OO0OO0OOOOOOO 


"  We'll  manage,  Mike.  You  love  me  and  I 
love  you.  You're  right:  that's  the  trouble." 

The  roast  duck  with  the  orange  sauce  that 
had  been  so  hard  to  make  might  as  well  have 
been  one  more  meat  loaf,  for  all  the  spirit  of 
festivity  it  evoked. 

He  kissed  her  a  little  more  tenderly  than 
usually,  as  he  left  in  the  morning. 
"Garry  " 

"M-m-m?"  Pete  Young's  car  was  wait- 
ing for  him  at  the  curb. 

"  I'm  going  to  be  the  perfect  wife,  darling. 
I'm  going  to  be  a  shining  example." 

He  kissed  her  again  and  trotted  down  the 
ridiculously  curved  front  walk. 

But  there  was  the  fourth  painting  to  fin- 
ish, first,  and  it  was  barely  started.  She  had 
a  color  sketch  and  a  few  penciled  experi- 
ments. It  would  take  two  or  three  days  of 
concentration.  She  did  the  breakfast  dishes, 
tidied  the  living  room,  and  put  the  bedroom 
and  the  bathroom  in  order.  .  .  . 
The  studio  door  was  open. 
"Good  morning,"  Paul  MacArran  greeted 
her  from  a  comer,  where  he  was  getting 
things  out  of  a  cabinet.  "Surprise!  I  got  fed 
up  with  the  rat  race.  Taking  a  week  off.  Do 
some  painting  and  forget  the  glory  of  com- 
merce." 

"Oh.  Will  I  be  in  your  way?" 

"More  to  the  point, 
will  I  be  in  yours? 
You're  working.  I'm 
on  vacation." 

"I'll  only  need  a 
couple  of  days  more 
on  the  last  picture," 
she  told  him. 

"I've  been  peeking 
again.  Crazy  about 
your  color  sketch. 
Christmas-tree  colors 
without  a  tree,  eh?" 

"Just  the  colors. 
Christmas  magazines 
are  full  of  trees.  I 
thought  I  could  be  a 
little  more  subtle.  If 
it  works  out." 

He  stood  beside 
her,  looking  at  the 
sketch.  "It'll  work 
out.  You've  got  it 
there.  The  lights  and 
the  tinsel  and  the  colored-glass  doodads." 

"The  girl  goes  here.  All  in  white.  Very 
simple.  Just  standing  there  as  if  she  were 
receiving  guests  for  a  party." 

"Get  to  work,"  MacArran  said.  "I  want 
to  see  it  finished." 

He  went  back  to  the  cabinet,  and  clattered 
things  as  Michelle  laid  out  her  canvas.  And 
in  a  little  while  she  forgot  him.  .  .  . 

"How  about  lunch?"  he  asked  suddenly. 
"You  haven't  taken  a  break  in  hours." 

"Come  and  see  how  you  like  this  so  far. 
I'm  not  sure  I  do." 

"Never  show  anybody  an  unfinished  pic- 
ture. All  you  get  is  bad  advice.  I  won't  look 
at  yours  and  you're  not  to  look  at  mine." 

"All  right."  She  laughed  and  darted  a  tiny 
highlight  on  a  dab  of  red. 

"Lunch?  I've  got  ham  and  eggs  over  in 
the  house.  Bread  and  butter." 

"I  brought  sandwiches  and  coffee  with 
me." 

"Ah!  That  explains  the  shoe  box.  Even 
so,  you  shouldn't  miss  my  ham  and  eggs. 
World-renowned  is  the  word  for  them." 

"Thank  you,  but  I  want  to  keep  at  this. 
Go  and  have  your  ham  and  eggs,  and  I'll 
see  you  later." 

"After  lunch  I  may  feel  compelled  to  lie 
on  the  grass  under  a  tree  and  doze." 

"I'll  be  here  till  four." 

"That  reminds  me:  does  Mr.  .  .  .  Finch, 
is  it?  .  .  .  does  he  know  about  this  yet?" 

"Not  yet.  I'm  going  to  surprise  him  with 
your  check." 

"  I  could  call  the  office  and  get  you  half  of 
it  on  account  tomorrow." 

"  No.  I'd  rather  wait  till  the  job's  finished." 

"Just  as  you  like.  Last  call  for  MacArran 's 
world-renowned  ham  and  eggs." 

"No,  thanks.  Really." 

"See  you  later."  He  waved  his  pipe  at  her. 
(Continued  on  Fage  138) 


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138 


LADIES'       irOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


Dch't  fate  charm 

LARVEX 

MOTHPROOFS 


No  odor  •  no  wrapping  •  no  storing 
wear  ciotlies  at  any  time 


In  efficient  housewife  knows  it's  best 
0  mothproof  the  cloth  itself  to  pro- 
ect  her  woolens  and  blended  wool 
iiaterials  against  moth  damage, 
'hat's  just  what  larvex  does— why 
t's  so  different  and  gives  such  effec- 
ive  protection. 

LARVEX  penetrates  each  tiny  woolen 
ibre  and  makes  the  cloth  so  distaste- 
ul  and  indigestible  to  mothworms, 
hey'd  rather  starve  than  feed  on 
r'oolens  treated  with  larvex.  Moth- 


FINGER-TIP  SPRAY 

...Easy 


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and  grow  on  LARVEXed  woolens. 

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sive !  One  spraying  with  larvex  lasts 
a  whole  year.  Simply  spray  your  gar- 
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place— ready  for  wear  at  any  time. 
LARVEX  is  odorless— you  never  have 
to  air  garments  before  wearing. 
LARVEX  withstands  repeated  dry 
cleanings.  Washing  removes  larvex 
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is  also  available  in  pint,  quart,  half 
gallon  and  gallon  sizes. 


VMdi's  Largest 
Sellihg  Warn  Mot|)f>roo(er 


(Continued  from  Page  136) 
Dear  Mr.  Filch:  As  an  old  friend  of  your 
grandfather,  as  well  as  co-executor  with  the 
First  National  Bank  of  his  will,  I  am  taking  it 
upon  myself  to  tell  you  the  sense  of  the  final 
disposition  he  made  only  a  week  before  his 
death.  The  will  has  been  filed  for  probate  but  it 
takes  some  time  for  the  necessary  legal  proc- 
esses to  be  completed  and  it  occurs  to  me  that 
you  may  be  interested  in  knowing  its  provi- 
sions now. 

After  a  small  bequest  to  his  church  and  a 
larger  sum  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  James  Rivers,  who 
are  still  in  the  farmer's  cottage  operating  the 
farm,  your  grandfather  leaves  the  rest  of  his  es- 
tate—the land,  buildings,  equipment,  animals, 
everything — to  you,  on  the  single  condition 
that  you  take  over  the  active  management  of 
the  farm  and  agree  to  reside  there  at  least  four 
months  of  every  year  for  three  years.  Should 
you  be  unwilling  to  accept  this  condition,  his  es- 
tate is  to  be  divided  equally  among  his  four  liv- 
ing descendants,  your  sister,  Mrs.  James  A. 
Gower,  your  cousins,  Mrs.  John  B.  Fairfax  and 
Mrs.  Harvey  T  Knowles.  and  yourself.  This 
division  would,  of  course,  mean  converting  the 
estate  into  cash. 

There  is  no  necessity  for  you  to  make  your 
decision  immediately  or  to  take  any  action 
whatever.  This  letter  is  simply  for  your  infor- 
mation. Sincerely  yours, 

James  K.  Alman 
Attorney-at-taw 

"The  old  boy  made  one  last  try  to  keep 
it  in  the  family,"  Garry  said,  as  Michelle 
finished  reading. 

"Yes."  She  folded  the  letter  and  handed 
it  back  to  him. 

'■  It  almost  makes  me  feel  guilty." 

"That  sweet,  funny  old  house.  All  those 
beautiful  cows.  And  the  little  pigs." 

"And  the  applejack,"  Garry  laughed. 

"It  would  be  a  perfect  place  to  bring  up 
children." 

"  I  know.  I  spent  a  lot  of  summers  there, 
when  I  was  a  kid." 

"Well,  you  needn't  say  anything  until  the 
will  goes  through.  Maybe  we  could  work  out 
something  with  your  sister  and  your  cou- 
sins. Keep  the  farm  going  and  have  it  for  a 
retreat  from  all  this." 

"You  mean  buy  their  three  quarters?" 
Garry  asked. 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  mean,  darling.  I  hate 
to  think  of  its  being  sold." 

"It  won't  bring  much.  Vermont  land's 
too  hard  to  do  anything  with.  Annual  crop  of 
ten  tons  of  stones  to  the  acre." 

"The  farm's  supported  generations  of 
Fitches." 

"Yes.  If  you  don't  demand  too  much." 

"Fresh  butter  and  cream  and  eggs  and 
maple  sirup.  And  sweet  cider  and  applejack. 
I  can't  feel  very  sorry  for  the  simple  farmer. 
Come  marketing  with  me  someday.  We'd 
better  get  on  with  dinner.  The  Youngs  are 
coming  in  afterward." 

"Oh,  no!" 

"Hush!  Friends  on  my  own  level." 

Toots  Parrish  risked  being  seen,  and  fol- 
lowed close  to  the  Fitches'  car  as  it  went  east 
through  Westwood  and  Rockbridge  to  the 
edge  of  Timmsbury.  She  saw  Michelle's  ex- 
tended arm,  signaling  a  left  turn,  and  slowed 
down.  The  blue  sedan  swung  off  into  a  nar- 
row blacktop  road  past  a  sandwich  shack. 

Toots  made  the  turn,  too,  and  cut  her 
speed.  Too  conspicuous  on  a  country  road, 
and  no  excuse  for  being  there. 

Her  luck  was  good.  The  road  descended 
steeply  to  a  wooden  bridge  at  the  bottom  of  a 
tiny  valley  and  climbed  diagonally  up  the 
slope  on  the  other  side.  There  was  a  small 
white  house  at  the  top  of  the  next  ridge  and 
the  blue  sedan  was  drawn  up  before  it.  Toots 
found  the  dirty  black  beret  in  the  glove  com- 
partment and  pulled  it  on  crooked,  down  on 
one  eyebrow.  She  slid  lower  into  the  seat,  as 
she  made  the  turn  at  the  far  side  of  the 
bridge. 

The  sun-tanned  man  in  faded  blue  denim 
shirt  and  trousers  had  come  out  to  meet 
Michelle  Fitch  in  the  sunlight  by  the  dis- 
orderly flower  bed.  He  was  tall  and  slim  with 
a  lot  of  light  hair  that  blew  in  the  breeze,  He 
was  talking  to  Michelle  and  she  was  looking 
up  into  his  face,  laughing.  He  turned  and 
they  walked  together  down  a  path  toward 
the  bam. 


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Tools  Parrish  drove  by.  At  a  crossroad  a 
inik-  or  two  farllicr  alon^,  she  lunied  her  c;ir 
aiul  wcnl  hack.  The  Filches'  sedan  was  still 
standinn  lieside  the  uale.  The  name  on  the 
postbox  was  P.  MacArran. 

"There!"  Michelle  said.  "I  think  it's 
about  linished."  She  hacked  away  from  the 
easel,  s(|uintinK. 

I'aul  MacArran  letl  his  own  work  and 
came  over. 

"It's  wondertiil.  It's  the  best  of  the  lot," 
he  told  her. 

" \f>u  really  like  it?"  * 

"Thv  others  are  line  and  this  is  the  best. 
Did  I  tell  you  Joe  Pratt  showed  the  first  two 
to  the  Synthetics  people  and  they  did  hand- 
sjirinns  for  joy?" 

"Oh,  uood!" 

"Would  you  like  to  see  what  Pve  been 

(lolUK?  " 

"  h'inished?  " 

"  I  think  so.  I  don't  need  to  be  knocki'd  un- 
conscious." 

She  walked  around  his  easel,  which  was 
set  at  an  an^Ie  to  the  broad  windows. 
"Paul!"  she  said. 

It  was  a  lively  

study  of  her  own 
head  and  shoulders, 
l)ainted  while  she 
worked,  the  light 
from  the  windows 
bright  on  her  hair, 
her  face  in  half 
shadow,  sharpened 
by  deep  concentra- 
tion. 

"It's  far  from 
flattering."  he  said, 
"but  that's  more 
or  less  the  way  you 
look  when  you 
paint.  You  would 
wear  a  different 
dress  each  day  to 
make  it  tough  for 
me.  I  like  the  one 
you  had  on  yester- 
day, though,  rounds 
out  the  composi- 
tion." 

"I  don't  know 
about  the  portrait 
resemblance,  but 
it's  a  very  exciting 
painting." 

"Unflattering,  as  I  said.  Very  exciting 
model." 

She  turned  her  head  to  laugh  at  him. 

Without  warning,  he  caught  her  in  his 
arms  and  brought  his  mouth  down  on  hers. 
He  held  her  close,  crushing  her  against  him. 
She  writhed,  struggling,  worked  one  arm 
loose  and  caught  his  hair  in  her  fingers,  pull- 
ing his  head  back. ...  He  released  her  as  sud- 
denly as  he  had  seized  her  and  stood  back, 
his  hands  tight  fists  against  his  chest. 

"Oh.  no!"  she  said.  "No,  no.  no.  no!" 

He  relaxed  his  hands  and  let  them  fall  to 
his  sides. 

"I  wondered,  when  you  offered  me  your 
studio,"  she  said,  "and  then  when  you  de- 
cided to  take  a  vacation— but  you  seemed 
so  quiet  and  nice  and  balanced  and  laugh- 
ing  " 

He  looked  down  at  one  of  his  hands.  "A 
man  may  smile,  and  smile,  and  be  a  villain. 
Pm  sorry.  Michelle.  I'm  truly  sorry.  I  knew 
better.  You  are  exciting,  and  it  was  just  an 
irresistible  impulse.  I  beg  your  pardon." 

She  said.  "I  love  my  husband.  Terribly. 
Even  if  I  didn't.  I  wouldn't  let  myself  be 
cheapened  by  " 

"Michelle.  I  know.  It  won't  happen  again. 
Nothing  like  it  will  happen  again." 

"All  right.  Paul." 

He  held  out  his  hand  and  she  took  it. 

"Thanks."  he  said.  "Would  you  like  my 
picture  of  you  as  a  souvenir  and  an  apology?" 

"You'd  better  keep  it,  Paul.  I  think  it's 
worth  quite  a  lot  of  money." 

"Maybe  I'll  borrow  it  sometime  for  an 
exhibition,  but  it's  yours." 

Still,  she  was  glad  her  paintings  were  fin- 
ished and  there  was  no  reason  to  come  to  his 
studio  again. 


dany  didn't  gel  b.ick  to  liis  own  ollice 
from  the  meeting  until  after  live  Amanda 
was  closing  the  broad  window,  the  hot  sum- 
mer sun  incandescent  in  the  fringesof  her  hair. 

"Von  duln'l  need  to  wail."  he  said. 

She  came  away  from  tin-  window.  "I  had 
to  talk  to  you." 

"Oh.  Oh.  well,  sit  down,  Amanda,"  He 
walked  around  the  desk  and  seated  himself, 
walching  her  as  she  took  the  guest  chair. 

Her  gray  eyes,  meeting  his,  were  uncom- 
fortable. "This  isn't  going  to  be  very  pleas- 
ant," she  said. 

II K  lighted  a  cigarellc.  "O.K.  Let's  have 
it."  he  said. 

"Mrs.  Tom  Parrish  look  iiic  to  lunch  to- 
day. She  said  she  wanted  my  advice,  but  I 
don't  think  she  did.  Of  course  I've  known 
her  a  long  time.  I  worked  for  hiin  wlicn  I  first 
came  to  Calilex." 

"Let's  get  to  it.  Amanda." 
She  smoothed  her  dress  over  her  knees. 
"Well  Of  course,  you  have  to  under- 

stand how  things  are  with  the  Parrishes. 
He's  been  passed  over  for  promotions  half  a 
diizen  times  and  I 
sup|X)se  she's  scared. 
Then  they  moved 
you  to  Fairlea,  and 
Michelle  seems  to 
have  everything 

she  " 

His  right  hand 
made  a  list.  "We 
can  skip  all  that. 
What  are  you  try- 
ing to  tell  me?" 

Amanda  lifted 
the  mahogany  box 
marked  IN  and 
took  an  envelope 
from  under  it. 

"  Here,"  she  said. 
"I  wish  she'd  left 
me  out  of  it.  It's 
none  of  my  busi- 
ness." 

He  fumbled  the 
typed  paper  out 
with  damp  fingers. 
He  unfolded  it  and 
held  it  with  both 
hands. 

"She  typed  it 
herself  at  home," 
Amanda  said. 

Confidential 
Mr.  Harper  OUivant,  Vice-President  for  Per- 
sonnel California-Texas  Petroleum  Corporation 

Dear  Mr.  OllwanI :  I  hope  you  will  under- 
stand that  I  am  writing  this  letter  because  I 
think  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so.  There  is  a  situa- 
tion you  ought  to  know  about  and,  much  as  I 
hate  to  carry  tales,  my  loyalty  to  Calitex  and 
my  regard  for  the  good  name  of  the  Calitex 
Family  compel  me  to  give  you  the  information. 
Tom  and  I  always  have  the  best  interests  of  the 
Corporation  in  our  hearts. 

When  Mr.  Garrison  Fitch  was  out  of  town  on 
his  recent  trip,  I  could  not  help  noticing  that 
Mrs.  Fitch  was  away  from  her  home  every  day 
from  Monday  through  Friday,  from  shortly 
after  nine  each  morning  until  late  each  after- 
noon. On  the  first  three  days,  she  went  to  New 
York  by  the  9:18  train  and  returned  by  the 
4:55.  After  that,  she  made  no  more  trips  to  the 
city  but  drove  off  in  her  car  every  morning  ex- 
cept Saturdays  and  Sundays  and  did  not  return 
until  about  half  past  four  every  afternoon. 

"What  is  this?"  Garry  demanded. 
Amanda  shrugged  and  turned  up  her  hands. 

Mrs.  Fitctr  offered  no  explanation  of  her  daily 
trips,  which  have  continued  as  outlined.  Since  it 
would  have  been  only  natural  for  her  to  tell  her 
"friends"  here  in  Fairlea,  if  she  had  not  been 
trying  to  conceal  her  conduct,  I  was  naturally 
disturbed.  I  did  not  wish  to  spy  on  her,  how- 
ever, and  it  was  purely  by  chance  that  my  sus- 
picions have  been  confirmed. 

On  Wednesday  of  this  week,  on  my  way  to 
Timmsbury  to  see  a  friend,  I  found  myself  on 
the  road  just  behind  Mrs.  Fitch,  who  was 
driving  the  family  blue  sedan.  Just  west  of 
Timmsbury,  Mrs.  Fitch  turned  off  into  a  second- 
ary road  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  follow  her. 

Mrs.  Fitch  drove  to  a  small  house  on  a  hill 
about  two  miles  from  the  highway.  She  was 
greeted  there  by  a  tall  man  in  blue  denims, 
evidently  by  arrangement.  As  I  drove  by,  Mrs. 
Fitch  and  the  man  were  laughing  intimately 


"/  ivns  iiitli'cti jfttliiiis  ii  lirii  I  (lis- 
covered llidl  Jiilieii,  n  hile /tntfessiufi 
love  for  me,  ivas  payiiifl  his  alien - 
lions  to  ihdt  undesirahle  Suzanne 
Desmonlins.  Yes,  I  teas  jealous  of 
him  :  hill  I  can  never  have  heen  jeal- 
ous of  her — surely  nol  of  her!  I  de- 
tesled  Ifesniiiulins  front  ihehollom  of 
my  heart.  It  icas  not  the  sifilit  of  her 
that  ctnise<l  emolion  to  flare  n/i 
irilhin  nie:  it  teas  ihe  fear  of  J  alien' s 
unfailhfu  liiess." 

A  new  novel  of  rivalry,  strong 
einolions  and  llie  iiiu'xpeole<l, 

OUIE'IL^  SUK  \A\:s 

By  E.  M.  D.  Ilawtlwrne 

C.oiuplple  ill  (he  June  .loiiriial. 
i-oiideiised  fniiii  I  he  novel  rereiitly 
piiiilislied  hy  Harper  &  Brothers. 


So  pretty,  it's  a 
perfect  hostess 
apron,  too ! 


Genuine  Everglaze 
chintz,  in  lovely  sun- 
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Heavily  quilted,  heat- 
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The  first  time  ever  offered,  this  beautiful  apron 
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fingers,  too.  A  full  .'JO  inches  wide,  in  lovely  sun- 
shine yellow,  this  apron  has  a  dressy  floral  trim, 
and  smart  black  rickrack  edging.  You'd  expect  to 
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But  ... 

You  can't  buy  this  apron  in  stores  !  It's  designed 
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Order  extras  for  gifts  and  party 
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Offer  made  so  you'll  dis- 
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A  daily  bath  with  Dial  Soap 
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CUP 


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Send  me 


Apron  (s)  with  the  Pot-Holder 


Pocket.  I  am  enclosing  75c  (no  stamps)  and  1  Dial 
Soap  Wrapper  for  each  Apron.  {Please  print  plainly). 

Name    „  


Addr, 


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We  pay  the  postage!  Offer  limited  by  supply  and 
may  be  w  ithdrawn  prior  to  expiration  date,  June  30, 
1953.  Offer  good  only  in  the  U.S.  and  is  void  in 
any  state  or  municipality  where  such  transactions 
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lated in  any  respect. 


140 


1,   A    DIES'       II  O 


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together  and  in  a  moment  they  walked  away 
arm  in  arm,  down  a  path  beside  the  house. 

The  name  on  the  mailbox  in  front  of  the 
house  is  P.  MacArran.      Sincerely  yours, 

Shirley  Parrish 

Garry's  fingers  contracted,  crumpling  the 
edges  of  the  sheet  of  paper. 

"I  shouldn't  have  showed  it  to  you," 
Amanda  said,  "but  then  Mr.  Ollivant  would 
have  surprised  you  with  it,  and  that  would 
have  been  worse." 

The  typewritten  words  blurred  before  his 
eyes  and  he  let  the  paper  fall  on  the  desk.  "  I 
don't  believe  it.  The  woman's  crazy." 

"She  wouldn't  dare           She  may  be  a 

little  crazy  with  jealousy  and  wondering 
when  her  husband's  going  to  get  fired, 

but  No.  She's  trying  to  fix  herself  solid 

with  Ollivant.  She  wouldn't  dare  lie  to  him." 

"But  "  He  picked  up  the  typewritten 

sheet  again.  "Wednesday?  The  day  before 

yesterday?  Why  "  He  lowered  his  head 

into  his  hands. 

"I'm  most  terribly  sorry,  Garry."  Amanda 
was  standing  behind  him.  She  dropped  a 
soft  hand  on  his  that  was  pressed  against  his 
temple.  She  said,  "Women  get  lonely,  Garry. 
That's  where  the  trouble  starts." 

He  snatched  his  hand  away  and  made  it 
into  a  fist  to  match  the  other  on  the  desk. 
"Women?  You  don't  understand,  Amanda. 

This  is   "  He  turned  and  looked  up  at 

her.  "  It  can't  be  true.  It  can't,  that's  all." 

There  was  a  hint  of  her  crooked  smile 
about  her  lips.  "It  wouldn't  be  the  first 
time." 

"What?" 

"I  mean— she  wouldn't  be  the  first  wife 
who's  " 

"Go  away,"  he  said.  "Go  on  home.  I've 
got  to  think."  He  pounded  the  letter  with  his 
fist. 

"I  promised  to  send  that  up  to  Mr.  Olli- 
vant tomorrow.  That's  the  only  way  I  got 
her  to  leave  it  with  me." 

"All  right.  I  won't  tear  it  up."  His  ciga- 
rette had  gone  out.  He  fumbled  vaguely 
through  his  pockets  before  he  remembered 
the  box  on  the  desk.  "Why  don't  you  run 
along  home,  Amanda?" 

"Because  I've  got  a  better  idea,"  she  said. 
"Come  over  to  my  place  and  have  a  drink 
while  you  get  used  to  the  idea." 

He  stared  at  her  gray  eyes  under  the  brows 
puckered  with  understanding,  at  her  full 
lips,  at  the  soft  v  of  her  neck  in  the  half- 
transparent  white  silk  blouse.  He  reached  up 
and  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it.  He  said; 

"Call  her  and  tell  her  I'm  tied  up  in  a 
meeting.  I'll  be  late." 

"Tired,  darling?"  Michelle  asked  as  she 
turned  the  car  away  from  the  station. 
"M-m-m." 

He  watched  her  profile,  dimming  and 
growing  clear  as  the  lights  went  by:  the 
straight  nose,  the  small,  firm  chin.  He 
couldn't  see  her  eyes. 

Well,  it  didn't  last  long.  April,  May,  June. 
Not  even  four  months.  Not  

How  long  has  she  known  P.  MacArran?  . . . 

/  hate  to  spoil  your  fun,  Michelle,  but  you 
should  have  been  a  little  more  careful.  Now 
you're  caught.  You  horrible,  unspeakable, 
filthy  little  

Oh,  my  God!  .  .  . 

Mustn't  get  tangled  up  with  Amanda.  Not  a 

girl  from  the  office.  Who'd  have  thought   

Sauce  for  the  gander . . . 

Not  Amanda.  Not  anybody  .  .  . 

He  made  a  great  business  of 'putting  his 
hat  in  the  hall  closet,  moving  coats  on  the 
hanger  rod,  killing  time  to  avoid  the  awful 
moment.  The  home-coming  kiss  that  would 
set  off  theexplosion.  Oneof  the  kisses  she  

"I've  got  a  surprise  for  you,  Garry." 

He  turned  at  last.  "What,  another?" 

She  blinked  at  his  tone  of  voice  and  let  it 
go.  "A  double  surprise.  Come  here." 

No  home-coming  kiss.  She  went  into  the 
living  room  ahead  of  him  and  stood  back 
with  one  arm  extended  toward  the  fireplace. 
"There's  part  of  it." 

Standing  on  the  mantelpiece  was  an  odd, 
arresting  painting:  Michelle's  head  and 
shoulders,  lighted  from  behind,  her  right 
hand  raised,  holding  a  paintbrush.  He  stared 


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1 1  He  wenl  closer  and  looked  al  llie  sinna- 
'  in  the  corner:  I'aul  MacArran. 
And  liere's  the  rest  of  it."  Michelle  said 

I  Ins  slioulder. 

He  looked  and  saw  the  check  she  was 
Dldin^.  llurciiTt,  Atkinson  tt-  Sltel.  I'ay  to 
:.  iirtlcT  III  Michelle  C.  Fitch  .  .  .  Exactly  One 
!"ii\(inil  diilliirs.  .  .  . 

I'm  afraid  I've  been  deceivinn  you."  She 
,iw  a  small,  nervous  lau^h, 

■Mike!" 

No  wonder  she  didn't  understand  his  tone 

II  I  tiie  expression  on  his  face.  Hit  lovely 
I  '  l  l  lip  (|uivered.  "Oh,  (larry,  was  il  so 
M  (Iful  of  ine,  darlinK?  1  did  four  paint- 
111, s  for  (ienera!  Syntiietics.  I  si^;ne(l  them 
ust  "Michelle,'  so  no  one  would  know.  I 
hounht  we  could  re|)ort  something  from 
.'alil'ornia  on  my  income  tax. 

"Honestly,  (larry,  1  don't  see  how  IIkk' 
•ould  be  any  harm.  Please,  dearest!  ^'ou 
ook  as  if  you  were  Koinu  to  cry." 

He  held  iier  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her 
leck  below  her  ear.  He  babbled.  In  (he  "nd, 
;he  was  the  one  who  wepl. 

"I've  been  so  nervous  about  the  whole 
hiuK.  Garry.  Feelinu  KuiHy-  Afraid  some- 
K)dy  would  calch  nie.  Afraid  you'd  be 
furious.  Paul  MacArran  — he's  art  director 
)f  the  aKency  he  let  me  use  his  studio  in 
rimmsbury.  I  went  every  morning  and 
stayed  all  day.  All  alone.  Until  the  last  few 
days.  He  took  a  week  off.  I  had  no  idea  he 
was  paint  in)r  me.  I  was  working  and 
Hut  I  wasn't  caught.  Nobody  knows." 

He  was  not  tremblini;  now.  He  said, 
everybody's  Koinu  to  know.  Let's  ^;ive  a 
parly  for  the  picture.  Call 
all  the  wives  m  the  morn- 
ing. Toots  Parrish  and 
the  others.  Ask  'em  to 
come  in  after  dinner. 

"  Tell  'em —say  you  were 
taking  some  painting  les- 
sons from  MacArran,  and 
he  painted  you.  I  knew  all 
about  it,  of  course.  Be  sure 
they  understand  tiiat.  And 
I  don't  think  you'd  better  say  anything  about 
the  pictures  you  were  paid  for.  You  were 
just  taking  a  few  lessons." 

Shirley  Parrish's  report  to  Personnel 
crinkled  in  his  breast  pocket  as  Michelle 
hugged  him. 

The  house  was  dusted  and  vacuumed  and 
neat  as  a  pin.  Michelle  was  in  the  kitchen, 
arranging  the  nine  pink  roses  from  the  back 
yard  in  a  pottery  bowl.  When  the  bell  rang, 
she  went  to  the  door  in  her  apron. 

"Good  morning,  my  dear!"  Mrs.  Ollivant 
said  brightly.  "  I  was  just  passing  through  on 

my  way  to  I  do  hope  you  don't  mind  my 

dropping  in  unannounced." 

"It's  very  nice."  Michelle  held  the  door 
open.  "I  was  arranging  some  flowers." 

"My,  the  house  does  look  nice.  You  must 
be  an  early  bird,  all  through  with  your  house- 
work already." 

"It's  an  easy  house  to  keep.  Would  you 
care  for  a  cup  of  coffee?  " 

"Thanks.  I  can't  stay  a  minute."  She  sat 
in  the  big  armchair.  "I  hope  you're  not  too 
attached  to  the  house." 

Michelle's  fingers  stopped  working  at  the 
knot  of  her  apron  string  and  she  raised  her 
eyes  to  her  visitor's.  "  Too  attached?" 

Mrs.  Ollivant  laughed  brightly.  "Nothing 
to  worry  about,  my  dear.  In  fact,  quite  the 
opposite.  Good  news.  Very  good,  indeed." 

^Michelle  forgot  the  apron  and  let  herself 
down  on  the  edge  of  the  love  seat. 

Mrs.  Ollivant  said,  "Yes.  I  shouldn't  be 
telling  you,  of  course,  but  then,  your  hus- 
band probably  knows  already.  He's  being 
moved  up  the  ladder.  A  good  big  step." 

"Garry's  being  promoted?" 

"Yes.  my  dear.  Into  a  position  we  feel  will 
be  ideal  for  both  of  you.  It's  in  Foreign 
Markets.  Means  a  lot  of  travel  all  over  the 
world— you'll  like  that— and  dealing  with 
important  people.  Foreign  officials  and  big 
businessmen.  You  and  dear  Garry  are  a  lady 
and  a  gentleman,  and  that's  important." 

"You  mean  we'll  be  going  to  Europe?" 

"Europe,  my  dear,  and  Asia  and  Africa 
and  South  America.  And  Australia.  I  think 


•But 
little 


We  gain  freedom  by  giving 
it.  To  bargain  and  to  stipu- 
late In  love  is  to  lose. 

—ELBERT  HUBBARD 


you'll  liiid  It's  your  niche  It  11  put  ( larry  in  a 
|)osilion  lo  understand  the  corixjration's 
operations  all  over  the  world.  And  you'll  tx.- 
at  his  side,  helpinn." 

"It  sounds  .  .  .  excilinu,"  Michelle  wiid. 
Out  of  all  Ihis,  Away  from  I'"airlea  and  the 
C'alitex  I'"amily  and  the  Chines*'  torture  of 
circulars  from  .1.  B.  Koe.  Out  of  ranue  of 
Harper  Ollivant 's  bifocal  vl^;llance. 

"There  isone  matter,"  Mrs.  Olliv.inl  sjiid. 
"that  I  feel  I  should  mention  lo  you  as  a 
young  bride.  You'll  tx-  traveling  a  lot  and 
you'll  have  lo  be  able  lo  move  on  shoi  i 
notice.  So  .  ,  .  well,  il  wouldn't  do  lo  be  tun 
down,  would  il?  I  mean  your  babies  will 
have  to  wait  a  little.  Hut  you're  young.  Two 
oi  t luce  years    — " 

l»Ai<HY  and  Michelle  ended  their  celebra- 
tion with  a  second  bottle  of  champagne,  this 
one  at  The  Pelican  al  two  in  the  morning. 

The  Hotel  Harrow  was  only  four  blocks 
away,  and  they  walked  through  the  descried 
streets,  arm  in  arm.  It  was  a  lillle  joke, 
spending  the  night  al  the  Harrow,  which 
Personnel  had  chosen  as  suitable  for  the  last 
days  of  their  iKjneymoon.  'I'liis  lime  they  had 
a  suite  on  the  Iwelflh  floor,  and  never  miiul 
the  Income  Bracket. 

"I  don't  sui)ix)se  a  hoti'l  was  ;i  smart 
extravagance,  really,"  Garry  said,  "  You  and 
I  ;ire  going  to  be  fed  lo  the  teeth  with  hotels 
before  we're  finished  with  this  Foreign 
Markets  job." 

Michelle  kicked  off  the  second  slipper  and 
put  on  her  mules.  "I  don't  understand  yet 
exactly  what  you're  to  do.  Travel,  I  know. 
But  why?" 

He  was  working  at  his 
cuff  links.  "Oil  is  slimy 
stuff,"  he  told  her.  "Slip- 
pery people  mixed  up  in 
it.  Wheels  within  wheels 
that  need  lubricating. We'll 
keep  things  running 
smoothly.  We'll  use  soft 
soap  and  butter.  The  best 
butter." 

"You  mean  you're  to  go  around  bribing 
people?"  she  asked. 

"How  you  talk!"  he  said.  "We'll  simply 
compete  with  the  competition.  Money  will 
be  available  as  needed." 

"Mibble-mubble-bloosh,"  Michelle  said — 
she  was  pulling  her  dress  over  her  head. 

"Beg  pardon?" 

"Is  that  all  you're  going  to  do?" 

"Oh,  no.  Report  on  changing  conditions, 
economic,  political,  personal.  Negotiate, 
when  there's  negotiating  to  be  done.  Keep 
an  eye  on  our  competitors.  And  two  or  three 
eyes  on  our  own  people  overseas.  And  report, 
report,  report,  like  a  twenty-one-gun  salute." 

"A  sort  of  private  diplomat  and  corpo- 
ration spy  rolled  into  one?  " 

"Rolled  into  two.  You're  half  the  team, 
taken  care  of  on  the  expense  account.  What's 
the  matter?  Would  you  rather  stay  in  Fair- 
lea?" 

She  was  at  the  dressing  table,  rubbing 
cream  on  her  face.  She  did  not  look  away 
from  the  mirror.  "Mrs.  Ollivant  says  Little 
Garry  will  have  to  wait.  Mustn't  be  tied 
down  by  babies." 

Garry  stood  behind  her.  looking  at  her 
face  in  the  mirror.  His  lower  lip  pushed  out  a 
little. 

She  said,  "She  pointed  out  that  we're 
young  and  a  few  years  won't  matter." 

"A  few  years?  Look  here,  Mike.  I  know 
how  much  you  want  " 

She  turned  to  look  up  at  him.  "It's  your 
career,  darling.  This  is  a  big  jump  up  the 
ladder  and  you  can't  afford  to  miss  it." 

He  went  back  to  the  suitcase  and  got  out 
his  pajamas. 

She  put  two  lumps  of  sugar  into  Garry's 
cup  and  took  one  for  herself. 

"I'm  giving  a  farewell  party  the  Fourth 
of  July,  Garry.  The  pleasure  of  your  company 
is  requested." 

"  You're  giving  it?" 

"With  my  ill-gotten  gains.  The  budget 
wouldn't  stand  it." 

"Oh,  I  think  the  budget  could  be  stretched 
for  a  special  occasion." 

(Continued  on  Page  143) 


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I.     \    l>     I     I      >  II     <i     M     I         f     It    I      II     N     \  I 


((  iiiiliiiiii  il  Irnm  I'linr  I  III 

"Not  for  the  parly  I'm  planiiinn  " 

"SoiiK'tliiiin  |)r<'lly  fancy?" 

"I'm  sick  of  dismal  lilllc  diimcrs,  tlic 
hoslcsH  running  oiil  lo  llic  kitclicii  willi  dii  ly 
|)Iat('S  and  rushing  l)ai'k  a).',ain  with  the  food 
half  cold.  This  is  ^;tnn^',  to  he  a  real  party 
Waiters,  I'"(inr  or  live  courses.  I've  talked  it 
all  over  with  I  lirondelle  and  he's  ^'.oiiii.'.  to  do 
thccUlerin^;." 

"Ilinmdelli'?  Tlie  loadiioiise  leliovv?" 

"lie  doi's  a  lot  of  i;ileiiiu'..  all  <iv<i  this 
section." 

"Hul  Who  are  you  t.'.omi.'.  to  mvile? 

The  I'arrishes  and  the  ^'oiini.'.s  and 

"The  Littles."  slie  said,  "and  I  lie  ( )lhvanls 
and  the  McC  lures  and  the  Mveretts  and  the 
rest  of  the  brass.  We  owe  most  of  them.  No 
I'arrishes,  no  \'()un«s.  no  C'arrawavs." 

"Hut.  Mike'  What'll  they  '" 

"Say?  The\'ll  prohal)ly  have  a  111.  Hul 
they'll  also  liavi'  a  ^(mkI  dinner  and  cham- 
pa^'ne  at  tables  in  the  back  yard  and 

"t'hampanne?  At  tables  in 

"l''ourth  of  .|ul>'.  The  town  siioots  off  ils 
lireworks  in  Memorial  I'arU  and  our  back 
yard's  the  perlect  place  to  see  the  show.  S) 
we'll  have  .lapaiiesi'  lanterns  and  tables  out- 
doors aiul  champa.i;ne  under  the  skyrockets." 

He  up  and  put  iiis  cup  down  on  the 
tray.  "I  don't  really  think  it's  a  very  ncxid 
idea.  Mike.  The  lop  i)eople  in  Ihe  corpora- 
tion don't  expect  anylhm.i;  like  thai.  ' 

"  A  surprise'll  do  'em  .nood.  Anyway,  I  tele- 
phoned the  wives  today  and  they've  all  ac- 
cepted." She  put  her  cup  on  the  tray  beside 
liarry's.  "  Hirondelle's  comini;  over  in  the 
morning  to  discuss  details.  It's  .noini;  to  he 
(|uile  a  parly.  Don't  miss  it." 

"Mr.  Clarrison  I'itcli  acceiils  wilh  plea- 
sure." 

Michelle  rose  and  picked  up  the  coffee 
tray.  "I'll  tell  you  a  secret.  You  and  I  are 
the  quests  of  honor.  Celebrating  our  de- 
liverance. From  now  on,  we  don't  have  to 
curtsy  to  them  or  to  their  ghaslly  dinners. 
They'll  still  be  running  our  lives,  but  we 
won't  be  here  to  watch  I  hem  do  il.  Call  it 
Partial  Independence  Day." 

"Two  cheers  lor  Partial  Independence," 
Garry  said. 

On  a  sudden  impulse,  she  kissed  his  cheek 
before  she  carried  the  tray  out  to  the  kitchen. 

iciiELLE  wore  her  new  black  lace  dress 
with  her  grandmother's  diamond  pin  as  its 
only  ornament,  and  Garry  paid  it  an  extrava- 
gant compliment. 
"  Wow ! "  he  said. 


"  I. live  II ,  ilai llll^; ? " 

"  1  he  dress?  M-m-m-ni.  You're  the  monl 
Ix  aiitilui  iIiihk  I  ever  saw" 

"You're  pretty  handsome  yourself,  come 
lo  think  of  it.  .  .  .  (iarry.  don't!  I  juhI  Hix-nt 
half  an  hour  inakinK  inyitL-lf  pretty.  I'leaw. 
Garry'  " 

"A  kiss  on  the  shoulder,  then  (io  around 
looking  sweet  enough  loeat  and  soiiielxKly 'II 

eal  you," 

"You're  a  very  satisfactory  husband 
sometimes." 

His  smile  faded  I  le  said.  "  Mike,  I'm  wor- 
ried alxiul  you.  ^'ou're  ...  I  don't  know. 
ICver  since  this  new  assignment  you've 
Ix'en  .  .  .  well,  off  to  yourself.  S)rl  of .  .  ,  gnm 
As  if  you  were  going  to  Ix-  cheerful  if  it  killed 
you.  1  .  .  .  svell,  I  love  you,  Mike,  and  if 
you're  Ix-ing  made  miserable 

She  i)ul  her  hand  into  his.  "I'm  not.  dar- 
ling. I'm  sorry  if  I'm  grim.  I  don't  mean  to 
Ik-.  There  are  things  lo  gel  accustomed  to, 
and  I 

"It's  th<-  l)usiness  afxml  the  babies,  isn't 
It?" 

"^'ou'll  have  lo  give  me  time  lo  adjust 
myself,  Garry.  I  was  just  gelling  used  to  Ih'- 
ing  a  memlxT  of  the  Calitex  I-'amih'  having 
a  kind  of  corixiration-in-law  when  along 
came  a  lot  of  new  adjustments  to  in;ike.  I'll 
be  all  right.  Please  don't  worry." 

"  1  can't  help  worrying.  I  got  you  inlo 
this 

"l^)ve  got  me  into  il.  I  would  have  mar- 
ried you  if  you'd  i)een  a  taxi  driver  or  a 
burglar  or  a  minister  Garry,  there's  a 
car!  The  party's  alxiut  to  tx-gin.  Come  on!" 

Thes'  went  downstairs  hand  in  haiul. 

I5y  moving  furniture  and  using  round 
tables  and  folding  chairs.  1  lirondelle  man- 
a.ged  to  seat  fourteen  comfortably  in  the  din- 
ing r(X)m  that  was  intended  for  six.  The  food 
was  perfect,  from  the  spiced  lobster  cocktails 
lo  the  crepes  Suzttte.  snatched  from  the 
flames  in  the  nick  of  lime.  The  service  was 
swift  and  unobtrusive.  The  man  who  made 
the  cocktails  (sherry  for  Mr.  Little)  was  qui- 
etly efficient  with  the  wines  at  dinner,  and 
later  with  the  liqueurs. 

Michelle  placed  Mr.  Little  at  her  right 
and  Mr.  OUivant  at  her  left,  and  seated  their 
wives  at  the  other  table  with  Garry.  She  as- 
signed Mr.  Everett  to  Garry's  group,  too, 
since  Mr.  Everett  was  Yicc-President  for 
Foreign  Markets  and  would  be  their  new  su- 
perior. 

It  went  rather  well,  Michelle  thought.  The 
Calitex  senior  executives  were  cautiously 


"Sotice  hoic  they  don't  play  or  dandle  over  their  JihhI?" 


correct,  uh  they  ulwayn  were  at  Huch  gather- 
ingH,  but  they  iteerned  a  little  Ichh  Htrained 
than  uHual.  N(»t  all  their  laughter  wan  calcii 
later!  lotuglil,  and  even  their  wives  relaxed 
Home  of  I  heir  vigilance.  I're»iujing  alert  I  '. 
Michelle  caught  ( iarry 'h  eye  once  and 
Mlarlled  when  he  winked  at  her.  .  .  . 

"We'll  liave  collee  in  here,"  hhe  an 
noiinced,  "and  move  outnide  afterward.  'I  \m 
lirewdrks don't  ntart  juHl  yet." 

"You  have  a  real  gift  for  entertaining. 
Mrs.  I'"ilcli."  Mr.  Little  slatefj  in  his  Ijooin- 
ing  voice,  and  the  r(x>m  wan  Kilenced.  "A 
very  re:U  gift.  You're  a  graciouH  hfMleiiH." 

I  Ci acinus  mr! ) 

"^'((iril  flo  very  well  in  the  new  aiisign- 
iiient."  Mr.  Olhvanl  siiid.  "T»K)k  that  intr- 
consideration.  I  must  s;iy  I  didn't  expect 
such  a  lavish  party  tonight." 

"Anything  worth  doing  at  all,"  she  an- 
swered, "is  worth  doing  well.  Who  sjjid 
thai?" 

IpivOW.K  WASiiiNf.TON."  Mr.  Ollivanl  s^jid. 

"Sliakes[xare."  Mr.  Little  corrected  liim. 

"^'ou  can  tx-  proud  of  the  faith  in  you  that 
this  lU'W  |X)st  of  Garry's  implies."  Mr.  Olli- 
vanl siiid.  "'Vou'll  have  a  lot  of  resjxtnsi- 
bility.  You'll  re|)resent  the  Calitex  Family. 
Not  only  as  a  hostess:  you'll  be  df)ing  a  job 
for  Personnel  tcx).  You'll  of)serve  the  fx-hav- 
ior  of  our  representatives  in  foreign  coun- 
tries. Especially  out  of  business  hours.  Their 
honn'  lives,  personal  habits,  families.  Wives 
and  children.  We'll  count  on  you." 

"On  me?" 

"You'll  tell  (iarry  your  observations,  and 
he'll  incoriX)rate  them  in  his  reports.  Hus- 
band and  wife  are  a  team." 

Mr.  Little  struck  his  water  glass  with  a 
spoon— /)!>(£.' —and  Michelle  jumped.  Si- 
lence engulfed  the  group  once  more.  The 
president  arose. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen.  First  of  all.  I  wish 
to  express  my  appreciation  and  that  of  all  of 
us  to  our  gracious  hostess  for  a  splendid  din- 
ner, splendidly  planned  and  executed." 

There  was  a  little  splatter  of  applause  like 
the  sound  of  several  masseurs  at  work  in  a 
Turkish  bath. 

Mr.  Little  went  on:  "I'm  not  going  lo  bore 
you  with  a  long-winded  speech.  All  of  us  who 
work  together  in  the  office  and  out,  who 
have  dedicated  our  time  and  our  energies— 
our  lives—to  the  management  of  the  great 
corporation  which  " 

Michelle  fixed  her  eyes  on  a  red  rosebud 
in  the  flower  bowl  and  let  the  rich  voice  flow 
over  her.  Her  mind  heard  other  voices,  other 
words,  and  the  pictures  in  her  mind's  eye 
came  into  sharp  focus.  Her  hands  gripped 
each  other  in  her  lap. . . . 

Garry's  voice,  breathless,  whispering:  "How 
I  love  you!  Nobody  else  on  earth.  Just  you  and 
me,  and  I  belong,  lo  you! " 

Her  own:  "Glorious,  belonging  to  each 
other  for  the  rest  of  our  lives.  We'll  have  a  house 
deep  in  the  country,  plenty  of  room  for  chil- 
dren." 

Amanda's:  "The  woods  are  full  of  little 
birds  who  tell  people  things." 

And.  again  and  again.  Mrs.  OUivant' s 
voice,  bright  and  hard  as  a  knife: 

"It  doesn't  do  to  be  snobbish,  and  it's  risky 
to  be  too  intimate"  .  .  . 

"Say  to  yourself,  'This  is  yny  part  of  the 
bargain.  I'll  do  this  for  my  husband'"  . . . 

"He's  happy  when  he's  moving  up,  being  a 
Succe<;s"  .  .  . 

"At  sixty-five,  the  corporation  will  retire 
him"  .  .  . 

"  //  wouldn't  do  to  be  tied  down,  would  it? . . . 
Your  babies  will  have  to  wait  a  little.  .  .  .  But 
you're  young.  ..." 

She  came  back  to  the  party  wilh  a  start. 
There  was  a  little  clatter,  a  whish  of  chairs 
on  the  carpet.  People  were  getting  up,  hold- 
ing their  glasses  high.  All  but  Garry,  who 
was  sitting  quite  still,  red  in  the  face,  star- 
ing down  at  his  cofTee  cup. 

"You  can  drink  to  your  husband,"  Mr. 
OUivant  whispered  to  Michelle. 

"Oh!  Oh.  yes.  Of  course."  She  picked  up 
her  glass  and  got  to  her  feet  in  haste.  Mr. 
Little  took  a  ceremonial  sip  of  wine  and  at 
the  signal  the  others  did  the  same. 

(Continued  on  Page  145) 


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May,  1953 


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((  iinlninfil  Inmi  I'anv  lit) 

I  They  waitffl  until  Mr.  Little  s:ii  (Iduii 
;ain. 

(larry  K'ot  slowly  to  his  feel.  His  face  was 
hitisii  now  and  he  licked  his  iii)|)cr  lip  like  a 
llle  lioy  with  a  recitation  at  a  school  cn- 
■rlaiiunciit.  His  eyes  found  Michelle's  for 
1  instant  and  his  mouth  made  someihinK 
ce  a  smile  heioic  he  turned  his  naze  to  Mr. 
itlle. 

"Mr.  Little.  La<lies  and  t',eiitlem<'n.  it's 
lid  of  you  to  say  such  ilatteriiii;  things 
K)Ul  me  and  to  drink  to  iiiv  health.  1  hope 
1  of  you  really  do  wish  iiu-  luck,  because 
m  K'>i'iK  to  ni-ed  it . 

"If  you'll  hear  with  mi',  I'd  like  to  say  a 
w  Ihin^s  that  I  think  will  he  ol  some  iiiter- 
.t,  intimate  Ihin^s  ahoul  my  wife  and  my- 
If  and  our  marriani'.  And  our  position  iii 
kition  to  the  corporation." 

lie  kept  his  c-yes  lixed  on  Mr.  Little.  \h- 
lelle  held  her  head  luv;h  and  walche  1  hmi, 
onderiuK  what  was  coming  lU'xI.  Ilei  face 
as  hot  and  prohahly  scarlet. 

"As  I  think  you  all  know,  we  )^ot  marrie  I 
1  a  hurry.  She  was  in  California  and  I  had 
)  come  back  to  New  York,  so  we  rushed 
lint^s.  I  told  her  1  had  a  k<'<'c1  job  and  I'd  be 
)le  to  support  her,  but  I  don't  think  she 
>lhercd  to  lind  out  jusl  what  I  did  for  a  liv- 
ig.  She  probably  thoutilU,  as  lots  of  i,Mrls  do. 
lat  a  man's  business  is  liix  business,  and  let 
al  that. 

"Hut  we  hadn't  been  in  New  York  many 
:)urs  before  she  found  out  thai  my  business 
as  her  business  loo.  She  was  handed  a  ques- 
onnaire.  She  was  allocated  a  house  and 
lends  and  a  budi;et  and 
)ld  what  to  wear  and  how 
)  behave.  She  was  warned 
lal  if  she  broke  the  rules 
le  mi.uhl  do  my  career 
•rious  harm. 

"All  this  must  have  been 
uile  a  shock  to  her.  1 1  was  * 

shock  to  me.  I  had  no 
lea  how  inlcrcsled  the 
jrporation  would  be  in  what  1  had  tlioutihl 
f  " 

"/Vh— Garry  "  Mr.  OUivant  said  but 

rarry  didn't  even  glance  al  him.  He  sliff- 
led  his  jaws  a  little  and  went  on: 

"  what  I  had  thought  of  as  our  pri- 

ale  life.  But  there  it  was.  If  the  other  em- 
loyees  of  the  corporation  could  take  il,  so 
)uld  we.  You  can  net  used  toanythint;  even 
)  livin.t;  with  the  corporation's  secret  police 
L'ering  over  your  shoulder,  trying  to  read 
;)urmind  " 

Mr.  Little  harrumphed  enormously  and 
ipped  his  linger  lips  on  the  tablecloth. 

Garry  smiled  at  him.  "It's  not  veiy  good 
lanners  to  get  you  all  together  as  our  guests 
ad  tell  you  these  things,  but  it's  high  lime, 
.'s  the  last  minute. 

"Y'ou  see,  the  marriage  ceremony  made  a 
emendous  impression  on  me.  I  look  it  per- 
)nally  and  literally.  Especially  that  sen- 
;nce  that  starts  'To  have  and  to  hold.'  You 
lay  have  forgotlen  it.  "For  better  for  worse, 
)r  richer  for  poorer,  in  sickness  and  in 
ealth,  to  love  and  to  cherish,  till  death  do  us 
art.'" 

ICHELLE  caught  her  lower  lip  in  her  teeth 
nd  blinked  to  stop  her  eyes  from  stinging. 

"I  thought,"  Garry  drove  on,  "that  mar- 
age  was  a  private  and  sacred  relationship 
etween  a  man  and  a  woman  who  love  each 
Iher.  Nol  a  business  partnership.  I  wanted 
)  live,  really  live,  with  my  wife.  To  love  and 
)  cherish.  To  strive  and  suffer  and  laugh 
nd  cry  and  grow  old  with  her.  I  don't  think 
lat  kind  of  marriage  is  possible  under  the 
alifomia-Texas  Corporation's  totalitarian 
lanagement.  Just  the  other  day  my  wife 
as  told  that  she  mustn't  have  babies  be- 
luse  having  them  would  interfere  with  our 
ork  for  the  corporation." 

Mr.  Ollivanfs  breathing  was  the  loudest 
)und  in  the  room.  The  candle  flames  were 
ellow  crosses  through  the  tears  thai  hung 
n  Michelle's  lashes. 

"  Well,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  Garry  said, 
I'm  through  racing  after  your  mechanical 
abbit.  I'm  not  going  to  climb  any  farther 
p  your  blasted  ladder .  This  is  where  I  get 
ff." 


I 


I'erfeclly  limed,  half  a  do/ni  aerial  Iximlw 
blaiii.;((l  like  thunder  dosi-  al  hand 

"  The  l-"ourlli  of  July  is  a  ^;real  day  for  il," 
Garry  «iid.  "Our  In(ie|M  iideiice  Day.  I  re- 
sign here  and  now.  l-"or  rii  her  lur  lOMirer  .  .  . 
Come  here,  Mike." 

She  gol  up  somehow  on  wobbly  knees  and 
wenl  lo  meet  him  iK-iween  I  he  tables.  His 
stroni!  arm  held  her  close  against  his  chest. 

"To  love  and  to  cherish,"  he  said  softly. 

"To  love  and  to  cherish."  she  re|)eated. 

ThrouLih  the  open  window  lame  the 
whoosh  and  poppelt y-lKMHii  of  ili<-  first  rock- 
els, 

ll.\i<i'i;i<  oi  l  ivANT  Klarcd  out  the  window 

and  grumbled  lo  himself  as  his  limousine 
moved  down  VViMow  Road.  A  skyrocket 
burst  into  slreamers  of  blue  and  i;old  over 
I  hi'  houses.  He  Uirned  lo  his  wife,  who  was  a 
dim  blob  on  the  seat  beside  him. 

'"^'oung  imbeciles!"  he  growled.  '"To 
U)ve  and  to  cherish ' !  I  luh.  Did  you  ever  hear 
such  silh'  nonsense?" 

Mrs.  Harper  Ollivant  (etched  her  husband 
a  shari),  backhanded  slai)  acrofs  the  mouth. 


the  Japanese  lanterns  and 
of  ihe  tables  in  the  back 
head  resting  on  Garry's 


■  Yes.  indeed 


I  am  a  believer  in  punctu- 
ality, though  it  makes  me 
very  lonely.     -E.  v.  LUCAS 


They  tunu d  ol 
sal  alone  a  I  one 
yard.  Michelle's 
sho'ilder. 

He  raised  his  glass  of  champagne  at  her. 
"A  wonderful  party.  Mike.  Thanks  for  in- 
viting me." 

"We  behaved  very  badly,  didn't  we? "she 
said. 

That  we  did." 

Three  skyrockets 
whooshed  up  the  sky  and 
IJopped  and  shot  out  red 
and  i)ink  and  silver  streaks 
of  lire. 

Michelle  held  her  glass 
high.  "  Indei^endence 
Day!"  They  drank  to  it. 

Garry  kissed  her  cheek, 
and  her  eyelashes  brushed 
his  nose.  "To  have  and  lo  hold."  he  said. 
"  You  say  it,  Mike  " 

"For  better  for  worse,  for  richer  for  poorer, 
in   " 

"Ix-coose   "  They  hadn't  seen  the 

waiter.  "  We  clear  up  now?  " 

"Yes,  please,"  Michelle  said.  "And  have 
some  champagne,  all  of  you.  Wish  us  luck." 

"T'ank  you.  madame."  The  man  bowed 
and  went  away. 

"Speaking  of  luck."  Garry  said,  "what  do 
we  do  now?  I'm  sort  of  unemployed  and 
we'll  have  to  move  out  of  the  house  and  " 

She  picked  up  his  hand  and  spoke  to  it. 
"Oh,  there  are  dozens  of  big  corporations 
that  allow  their  people  to  lead  their  own 
lives.  If  you  want  lo  go  on  in  management." 

"Well,  it's  what  I'm  trained  for,  Mike.  I 
don't  know  what  else  " 

Both  of  her  hands  tightened  on  his  fingers. 
"  In  my  top  bureau  drawer  under  the  stock- 
ing box,  there's  a  notebook  full  of  facts  and 
figures.  Do  you  remember  that  Sunday  after- 
noon, when  you  went  through  the  old  family 
pictures  and  Grandpa  Fitch  and  I  sat  out 
under  the  trees?" 

"Hah?  Grandpa  Fitch?" 

"He  told  me  exacth'  how  much  money  he 
made  out  of  the  farm  every  year.  Apart  from 
his  living,  which  he  considered  business  ex- 
pense. And  he  told  me  he  was  only  half  work- 
ing the  farm.  There  could  be  three  times  as 
many  cows.  The  sugar  maples  could  bring  in 
a  nice  income.  The  apples  and  the  cider  and 
the  applejack  " 

"  Y'ou  do  plan,  don't  you?  "  Garry  laughed. 

"I've  had  a  lot  of  training.  At  one  time, 
I  was  an  Executive's  Wife." 

She  sat  up  and  turned  to  face  him.  "Garry, 
listen:  we  can  take  over  the  farm  and  keep 
the  Riverses  on.  and  be  able  to  afford  to  go 
away  for  a  change  of  scene  in  the  worst 
months.  Of  course  "  She  hesitated. 

"Of  course  what?" 

"We  won't  be  able  to  travel  much  at  first 
because  there'll  be  Little  Garry  and  Harry 
and  Larry  " 

"And  Little  Michelle." 

The  waiter  started  briskly  out  of  the 
house  and  went  back  in,  closing  the  door 
without  a  sound.  the  end 


he  sufe  you  ::j^  r 

^ s::  s'         nK-for  *e  ..oi«- 

these  cooWics     >  bm  Honey 

the 


for  finest  honey,  say  Sue  iffeff' 


GnaraBtecd  by 


WRITE  for  "Tempting  Honey  Recipes" 
— 16  colorful,  taste-thrill  pages — to  the 
Sioux  Honey  Association,  Dept.  L-533, 
509  Plymouth  Street,  Sioux  City  6,  Iowa. 


146 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


YOU'LL  BE 

COOLER 

INSIDE 


COOL-COOL 
SUMMER 


TKAIIVING  FOR  CHILDBIRTH 


You'//  li/ess  this  nezv  way  to  keef  your 
figure,  and  the  heat,  under  contro/l  T his 

forous  mesh  is  airy-li^t — yet  c/ever 
design  keeps  your  figure  beautifu//y  firm 

and  s/immed.  Be  sure  to  try  on  a 
Rengo  cotton  viesh  sty/e — nothing  e/se  so 

coo/!  This  is  Rengo  707,  amazing  /ozv 
$S.  at  upstairs  and  downstairs  corset  depts., 
and  specialty  stores.  Sizes  34-48, 
1 4",  Frosty  Pink. 


Also  TIAR.d  girdles 
for  the  Young-iv-Fi g^nre 


GuQtanteed  by 
^Good  Housekeeping  j 


FREE! 

Send  for  helpful  "Miracle-Slimming  Styles'- 
booklet,  shows  best  style  for  YOUR 
figure.  Write  to  Crown  Corset  Co., 
295  Fifth  Ave.,  N.  Y.  C.  16.  Dept.  1,-7 

Name  


Address. 


"Then  there  was  a  mad  scramble.  Someone 
called  the  intern;  several  people  assured 
one  another  that  my  doctor  had  been  called 
and  was  on  his  way  (he  had  left  orders  for  the 
intern  to  deliver  me  if  the  baby  came  fast); 
a  couple  of  people  remembered  my  husband 
and  told  him  where  to  find  a  mask  and 
gown. 

"My  doctor  says  that  what  I  did  next  was 
not  the  natural  thing,  but  a  matter  of  train- 
ing; I  don't  know  whether  he's  right  or  not, 
for  it  was  certainly  not  a  time  for  analytical 
thought.  Gasping  breaths  felt  so  good  I  went 
right  on  panting  all  the  time  they  were  rush- 
ing me  onto  the  cart,  into  the  delivery  room 
and  shoving  me  on  the  table. 

"They  apologized  for  not  getting  the  table 
under  the  mirror  so  I  could  watch.  A  nurse 
started  to  give  me  a  whiff  of  ether,  but  I  said, 
'I  don't  want  that.'  That  must  have  been 
at  the  moment  of  a  hard  contraction,  for  then 
the  baby's  head  was  against  the  perineum 
with  a  sensation  of  tightness.  'Episiotomy,' 
the  doctor  said.  "Not  if  you  don't  have  to,' 
I  told  her,  but  she  said  it  was  better  to  have 
a  small  cut  than  a  bigger  tear  and  assured 
me  it  wouldn't  hurt.  I  wasn't  worried  about 
that.  What  I  was  thinking  of,  though  I  had 
no  chance  to  explain,  was  that  the  book  says 
it's  often  not  as  essential  as  it  looks,  and  that 
I  had  very  little  now  of  the  expected  sensa- 
tion of  imbearable  stretching.  But  she  cut 
and  I  felt  no  pain;  seconds  later  the  head  was 
bom.  I  heard  the  baby  cry  and  asked  .John 
if  it  had  any  hair.  "Lots  of  black  hair,' some- 
one said.  The  intern  put  her  hand  hard  on 
my  abdomen  and  pushed,  apparently  quite 
anxious  to  speed  the  rest  of  the  delivery,  but 
I  said,  "Wait  until  I  have  another  contrac- 
tion.' Someone  said,  'Don't  worry— she'll 
push  when  the  time  comes.'  In  another  mo- 
ment or  so  I  did  and  the  baby  was  bom.  \ 
nurse  said,  'It's  a  girl,  and  such  a  cute  little 
thing ! ' 

"I  remember  thinking  that  I'd  done  enough 
just  now  and  would  like  to  wait  a  bit  for  the 
afterbirth.  It  slipped  out  on  the  next  contrac- 
tion, though,  right  after  they  finished  cutting 
the  cord  and  took  the  baby  out  of  the  way. 
Then  they  draped  me  and  proceeded  as  if 
everything  had  been  sterile  all  along !  I  held 
John's  hand;  above  the  surgical  mask  his 
eyes  were  the  happiest  eyes  I  have  ever  seen. 
Everyone  seemed  excited  and  happy — the 
whole  world  was  a  joyous  place.  Our  new 
daughter  wailed  and  turned  pink  as  we 
watched.  Oh,  how  sweet  she  was !  In  my  arms 
she  settled  down  and  nestled  quietly  beside 
me.  And  of  all  the  bright  sweet  moments  in 
my  life  and  John's,  I  felt  that  was  the  best." 

This  true  birth  experience  of  John,  Edith 
and  Melanie  Patten  is  a  "special  case"  of  a 
well-trained  mother  and  father,  so  fortunate 
as  to  be  together  during  a  quick  and  easy 
labor  and  delivery.  The  elapsed  time,  from 
admittance  to  the  hospital  until  the  birth, 
was  two  hours.  Melanie  is  their  third  child. 
However,  in  Seattle,  Washington,  there  is  an 
organized  group  of  mothers  and  fathers- 
all  "special  cases" — called  the  Association 
for  Childbirth  Education,  affiliated  with  the 
Young  Adult  Division  of  the  Seattle  Y.  W.C.  A. 
They  believe,  first,  that  every  pregnancy, 
labor  and  delivery  is  a  special  case  (though 
not  all  are  so  joyous  and  simple  as  the 
Pattens');  that  prospective  parents,  both 
male  and  female,  should  know  in  as  clear  de- 
tail as  possible  what  happens  in  mind  and 
body  to  produce  a  new  human  on  the  earth; 
and  that  mothers  should  train  for  the  event; 
and  both  parents  should  participate.  Many 
doctors,  other  specialists  and  several  hos- 
pitals are  co-operating  with  the  association 
and  its  supporters.  "  It  is,"  says  Dr.  Roberta 
Taylor,  a  psychologist  who  helped  to  found 
the  association  in  May  A  19.52,  "a  sort  of 
prenatal  P.T.A.!" 

The  general  purpose  of  the  Association  for 
Childbirth  Education,  as  stated  in  the  by- 
laws, is  "to  enrich  parent-child  relationships 
from  the  very  beginning  of  life  by  increasing 
the  understanding  and  competence  of  par- 
ents." The  aims  specifically  include: 


(Continued  from  Page  28) 

1.  Education  in  the  anatomy,  physiology 
and  psychology  of  pregnancy,  childbirth  and 
infancy. 

2.  A  program  of  relaxation  and  exercise  for 
the  expectant  mother. 

3.  Mental  preparation  of  both  mother  and 
father  for  a  participating,  sharing  and  indi- 
vidually satisfying  pregnancy,  delivery  and 
parenthood. 

4.  The  encouragement  of  rooming-in  and 
breast  feeding. 

5.  The  exchange  and  exploration  of  ideas 
with  others  working  for  the  well-being  of  the 
family. 

"Of  course  the  association,  in  its  actual 
function,  as  yet  falls  short  of  all  the  high 


AttheEnd 
of  the  Rainbow 

ity  isravl  XeMrnum 

Jeff  stood  there  with  his  line 

Believing  it  was  true 
That  raining  cats  and  dogs 

It  rained  down  fishes  too. 

Joe  waded  back  and  forth. 

Not  far  from  him  stood  Rose 
Just  dabbling  at  the  puddle 

With  timid  little  toes. 

We  scrutiniz3d  their  faces: 

We  thought  we  saw  the  change. 

But  then — they  were  not  altered; 
And  that  was  just  as  strange. 

For  Bet  and  I  had  seen 
The  rainboiw  as  it  glowed 

There  to  its  glorious  end 
Above  them,  on  the  road. 

And  we  had  heard  that  something 
Took  place  on  such  a  spot; 

Some  miracle  whose  nature 
Both  Bet  and  I  forgot. 

So  we  kept  mum  and  joined  them 
And  fun  was  ours  galore 

Till  we  forgot  entirely 
What  we  had  come  there  for — 

Yes,  fun,  pure  gold;  and  not 
The  kind  that  mortals  spend: 

A  better,  brighter  gold 
Found  at  the  rainbow's  end. 


aims  stated  in  its  by-laws,"  admits  its  presi- 
dent, thoughtful,  slow-speaking  Dave  Farley, 
an  aeronautical  engineer.  "So  far  we  have 
spent  a  lot  of  time  just  formulating  the  by- 
laws." His  wife.  Shirley,  is  expecting  their 
second  child  in  May.  About  half  of  the 
women  members  of  the  association  cur- 
rently are  pregnant. 

"But  that's  not  a  requirement,"  Vice- 
president  Robert  Lundeen,  a  mechanical  en- 
gineer, points  out.  He  and  his  wife,  Dorothy, 
have  been  parents  for  only  two  months. 
"/  Iso  note  that  while  most  of  the  members 
are  convinced  that  the  best  delivery  for  both 
baby  and  mamma— papa,  too — comes  with- 
out anesthesia,  we  avoided  the  term  '  natural 
childbirth '  as  too  limiting.  We  prefer  to  call 
it  "trained  childbirth.'" 

Meetings  of  the  association  do  give  the 
girls  a  chance  to  talk  about  their  labor — and 
such  talk !  They  chatter  about  how  interest- 
ing and  how  satisfying  it  was  and  how  much 
they  appreciated  the  presence  and  support  of 
their  husbands.  Then  men  have  plenty  to 
say  too— they  did  not  pace  the  floor  and 
chain-smoke  in  the  waiting  room  while  their 


child  was  being  born.  Nobody  had  to  tell 
them  what  sex  it  was.  It  is  their  baby,  they 
helped  all  the  way,  and  some  baby!  A  hus- 
band says:  "It  was  the  best  thing  we  ever 
did  together !"  A  new  mother :  "I  felt  we  had 
all  shared  in  a  miracle."  One  expectant 
mother  to  another:  "I  have  never  seen  such 
sweet  bursting  contagion!" 

An  important  member  of  the  association 
is  Dr.  Virginia  Lawrence  Larsen,  an  M.  D. 
experienced  in  general  practice  and  a  mother 
herself.  Urged  by  Dr.  Roberta  Taylor  and 
other  young  mothers  who  had  given  birth 
with  little  pain  and  great  happiness,  in ; 
marked  contrast  to  previous  deliveries,  she 
began  classes  in  relaxation  for  childbirth  at 
the  Seattle  Y.W.C.A  in  January,  1950.  The 
daughter  of  missionary  parents,  a  widow 
with  two  young  sons  Virginia  Larsen  be- 
lieves in  the  ideal  of  service  for  others.  She  i 
conducted  the  classes  for  nearly  three  years 
without  pay.  In  the  summer  of  1951  she 
made  a  trip  at  her  own  expense  to  the  Ma- 
ternity Center  Association  in  New  York  and 
the  Yale  Clinic  in  New  Haven  and  returned  to 
put  into  practice  many  of  the  techniques  she 
had  learned.  In  three  years  471  women,  plus 
many  student  nurses,  attended  her  classes. 
Some  of  the  women  from  the  early  sessions 
found  having  a  baby  so  much  fun  they 
iiave  had  three— one  a  year — since.  "This 
could  get  to  be  a  problem,"  Virginia  admits. 

The  Association  for  Childbirth  Education 
started  at  a  reunion  meeting  of  former  class 
members  held  in  May,  1952.  During  the 
winter  months,  five  grateful  "pupils"  (Grace 
Dunlap,  Mary  Louise  Tracey,  Julia  Dun- 
can, Eyrlis  McJlish  and  Joan  Harris),  who 
were  voluntarily  assisting  in  the  class  pro- 
gram, had  talked  tfte  matter  over. 

Only  a  small  proportion  of  expectant  par- 
ents were  being  reached,  yet  the  classes 
were  growing  much  too  large.  Certainly  more 
teachers  must  be  trained.  Why  did  so  many 
women  want  to  learn  how  to  help  themse!"«>s 
in  childbirth?  They  were  not  all  expecting  a 
first  child.  Many  were  expecting  a  third  and 
one  or  two  were  expecting  a  sixth.  They  were, 
nevertheless,  deeply  interested  in  facts  about 
exercise,  relaxation  and  the  process  of  birth. 
Many  had  had  painful  deliveries,  even  with 
the  use  of  modern  obstetrical  analgesia  and 
anesthesia,  and  wondered  if  they  could  do 
better.  Some  had  nearly  pain-free  deliveries 
but  were  disappointed  to  have  been  "knocked 
out"  during  the  main  event.  Many  doctors 
(over  one  hundred  had  been  represented  by 
one  or  more  patients)  recommended  the 
classes.  Other  women,  wanting  to  learn,  got 
the  pat-on-t  he-head-run-along-lit  tie-girl 
treatment  from  doctors  too  busy  to  teach.  In 
some  hospitals  requests  maternity  patients 
with  adequate  preparation  considered  reason- 
able were  often  ignored.  Something,  the  girls 
reasoned,  ought  to  be  done  about  that. 

None  of  the  original  nucleus  of  founders 
remembers  who  said  it,  but  somebody  did. 
"Why  not  organize?"  Before  organization 
was  begun,  however,  some  twenty-five  doc- 
tors from  different  fields — psychiatry,  ob- 
stetrics, general  practice  and  pediatrics — 
were  invited  to  a  meeting  at  Roberta  Tay- 
lor's house.  The  purpose  of  the  meeting  was 
to  inform  them  of  the  plan  and  ask  their  ad- 
vice and  criticism.  "From  the  first,"  Joan 
Harris  recalls,  "we  have  very  much  wanted 
professional  people  working  with  us — and 
not  under  the  misapprehension  that  we  are 
opposing  existing  systems  of  obstetrical 
care."  Husbands  in  the  original  group,  eager 
to  share  more  fully  in  the  great  enterprise, 
willingly  managed  the  business  details  and 
ACE  became  a  functioning  group  of  some 
forty  parents.  Annual  dues  were  set  at  $2 
per  couple  the  first  year  (plus  Y.W.C.A.  dues, 
which  are  $1.50  per  person  yearly).  The  new 
organization  felt  that  a  fee  of  $10  should  be 
charged  for  the  Y  classes  and  that  Dr.  Lar- 
sen should  be  paid  for  conducting  them. 

Norma  Sims,  director,  and  Adrienne 
Greenidge,  in  charge  of  young-adult  activi- 
ties at  the  Seattle  Y.W.C.A.,  which  had  helped 
(Continued  on  Page  148) 


I.  \  I)  I   !•:  s  '     II  (t  \i   I      I  (I  I    i(   \   \  I, 


iiJ'OflllO 


Kcgal  beauty  in  sterling  is  Wallace's  Grand  Baroque! 
'I'liis  |);ill(Tn  of  lavish  lu  illiance  aiul  rich  oniamciilalioii  glorifies 
the  gaiety  of  the  Harocpie  |)erio(l.  Fatiied  designer,  William  S.  Warren 
lias  iiil<'r[)i cted  the  grace  and  s|)Ieiidor  of  true  i!at()(|iic  in  llu; 
delicate  carving,  the  magnificent  o|)enwork,  the  unusual  blossoms 
which  var\  on  didereTil  |)ieces.  (irande  Haroipn^  is  exquisitely 
scul])tured  in  Inll-lortncd  "Tiiird  Dimension  Heauty,"  and  like 
every  Wallace    Third  Dimension  Beauty"  pattern  it  is  a 
masterpiece  — heautilully  formed  not  oidy  in  front,  but  in  profile 
and  back  —  sterling  jMMfection  from  every  possible  view. 


Sir  piece  place  setting  ofCrriiiifr  BaTni]iir,  $41.75.  Srttinps  nf  olhrr  ptiHirn.i 
from  $35.75  to  $47.75  —  all  prices  include  Federal  Tax.  To  learn  where  you 
can  buy  Wallace  Sterling,  call  JFestern  Union  by  number  and  ash  for 
Operator  25.  She  will  give  you  the  names  of  the  stores  nearest  you. 


Send  for  and  read  the  exrilinp  dfsipn 
slorifs  iif  eacli  Wallace  pallfrii  in  tlie32 
juifje  book  "Trcasiirt-s  in  Sterling;.""  It 
also  contains  many  liclpful  table-sel lirif; 
ideas.  Write  (send  10<  to  cover  postage) 
to  Wallace  Silversmiths,  Department 
134,  Wallingford,  Connecticut. 


WALLACE 
STERLING 


COLON  I  AL 


///         ""  I  I, 

WALLACE  SILVERSMITHS,  WALLINGFORD,  CONNECTICUT 


ROMANCE  OF 
THE  SEA 


5mce  iS55  ...  WALLACE  SILVERSMITHS,  TORONTO,  CANADA  cop>T,Bht 


148 


L  A  n  I  K  s  '  no 


M    F,  JOURNAL 


May,  i9.';  '! 


Ai'e  you  Wise  to  the  easier  ways  ? 


What  do  you  do  when  the  TV  crowd 
leaves  popcorn  and  crumbs  on  your 
rug?  You  could  leave  the  mess  till 
morning — or  drag  out  the  vacuum. 
But,  if  you're  on  the  beam,  you  slick 
it  up  with  a  handy  Bissell  Sweeper. 


Can  you  laugh  it  off  when  the  kids 
track  in  sand  and  grass?  You  can,  if 
you  have  a  Bissell®.  It  flicks  up  all 
litter  the  jiffy-way.  New  Brush-Clean 
Combs  keep  the  Saran  bristle  brush 
free  from  dirt  and  fluflf. 


"Last  minute"  litter?  Don't  get  in  a 
lather.  A  Bissell  will  whisk  it  up  in 
seconds — before  the  company  comes. 
Whenever  minutes  matter,  bank  on  a 
Bissell.  No  lug-out,  no  plug-in. 


If  your  smoker's  a  spiller — relax. 

Accidents  are  incidents  with  a  Bissell 
to  pick  up  spills.  Adjusts  automatically 
to  any  rug  thickness,  with  no  pressure 
on  the  handle. 


Grand  gift  ideas  /  AH  colors  -  AM  prices  / 

See  your  dealer 


The  "QUEEN" 

New  reigning  favorite,  in  rich 
Coronation  Colors  —  Regal 
Red,  Regal  Blue,  Regal  Yellow 

$n.95t 


'The  SILVER  STREAK" 

Spruce  Green 
Poppy  Red 
$7.95t 


The  "VANITY" 

Ebony  Black 
Mint  Green 

$9.95t 


ft 


BISSELL  SWEEPERS 

For  Quick  Everyday  Cieon-ups 

BISSELL  CARPET  SWEEPER  COMPANY,  GRAND  RAPIDS  2,  MICHIGAN 


]A  liiile  mnre  in  the 
West  and  Canada 


(Continued  from  Page  146) 
from  the  first  in  housing  and  administrating 
the  classes,  agreed  that  the  fee  should  be 
charged  and  Y  membership  required.  To  re- 
lieve Doctor  Larsen  and  to  keep  classes  small, 
the  first  order  of  business  was  to  train  more 
teachers.  Doctor  Larsen  felt  such  trainees 
should  be  registered  nurses  or  physical  thera- 
pists who  had  had  training  for  childbirth 
themselves  before  the  birth  of  at  least  one  of 
their  children.  There  are  now  a  half-dozen 
young  mothers  with  these  qualifications  who 
have  observed  classes  and  taught  under 
Doctor  Larsen's  supervision. 

Today  there  are  three  crowded  sections 
of  the  classes,  meeting  on  alternate  weeks, 
with  six  afternoon  sessions  for  expectant 
mothers  and  several  evening  discussion 
groups  especially  for  husbands,  usually  cen- 
tered around  the  theme  "How  to  help  your 
wife  in  pregnancy  and  labor."  It  is  not 
common  •'or  husbands  to  be  with  their 
wives  during  labor  and  delivery,  but  many 
ACE  husbands  have  been  and  the  group  be- 
lieves a  husband's  support  is  of  basic  impor- 
tance. "  There  is  hardly  a  time  when  a  woman 
needs  her  husband  more,"  Virginia  Larsen 
says.  Often,  as  a  part  of  the  evening  program, 
a  husband  and  wife  will  describe  "their" 
delivery.  One  new  mother  of  such  a  team 
summarized  it  this  way:  "Everyone  in  the 
delivery  room — my  doctor,  the  nurses  and 
my  husband— was  coaching  me  to  help  me 
deliver  the  baby  slowly,  but  the  only  one  I 
could  hear  was  my  husband." 

Virginia  Larsen  does  not  believe  in  lectur- 
ing. All  the  sessions,  like  the  meetings  of 
ACE,  soon  become  discussions  which  she  or 
one  of  her  assistants  unobtrusively  encour- 
ages and  guides.  The  latter  half  of  each  after- 
noon session  is  usually  given  to  the  practice 
of  exercises  on  blankets  on  the  floor. 

Because  of  the  controversy  and  misunder- 
standing surrounding  the  term  "natural 
childbirth,"  Virginia  Larsen  helps  the  women 
todecide  for  themselves  what  so-called  natural 


childbirth  is  and  what  it  ain't.  "It  ain't." 
she  assures  them,  "painless — nor  is  it  self- 
hypnotism,  as  some  believe.  It  isn't  neces- 
sarily drugless.  Nor  is  it  stoicism— just  grit- 
ting your  teeth  and  bearing  it. 

"And  while  I  believe  that  through  exercise, 
practicing  relaxation  and  proper  breathing 
you  can  help  yourselves  greatly  in  labor,  co- 
operating with  Nature  certainly  isn't  a  bag  ji 
of  tricks.  .i 

"All  childbirth  is  'natural'— our  aim  is  to 
make  it  an  individualized,  satisfying  experi- 
ence, with  the  mother  awake  in  labor  and 
participating  in  the  birth  process." 

The  mere  getting  together  of  women  shar- 
ing the  common  experience  of  pregnancy 
soon  convinces  each  one  that  she  is  not  alone 
with  her  problems,  nor  are  they  at  all  un- 
usual. 

After  attending  a  few  classes,  each 
woman  is  sure,  if  she  had  any  doubt,  that  she 
can  have  a  baby  as  well  as,  and  likely  better 
than,  it  has  ever  been  done  before.  One  satis-  ' 
fied  mother,  in  one  of  the  many  letters  Vir-  t 
ginia  Larsen  receives,  summarized  the  value 
of  the  classes  to  her  in  this  way :  /  could  posi-  . 
lively  explode,  unbare,  shock  myself  with 
doubts,  ignorances,  misconceptions — and  still 
have  "face."  What's  more,  I  learned  something! 
I  felt  so  much  composure  settle  upon  me  from 
the  classes  I  attended.  I  was  not  the  uncomfort- 
able, aching,  weary,  weepy  thing  I  had  been. 
It  seemed  to  brighten  my  very  anatomy  to  be 
able  to  talk  about  it — to  know  enough  at  least 
to  picture  tvhat  teas  happening  in  me.  J  was 
never  afraid,  but  discomfort  nags  at  you  when 
it  is  not  explainable. 

Another  wrote:  /  cannot  begin  to  tell  you 
how  grateful  I  am  to  you  for  the  education  and 
preparation  without  which  my  labor  might  have 
been  a  nightmare.  I  can  verify  by  my  oim  ex- 
periences in  three  pregnancies  that  with  re- 
laxation and  the  proper  frame  of  mind  labor 
can  be  a  time  of  pleasant  anticipation,  but  with 
tension,  frustration  and  confusion  it  can  be 
hell.  We  can't  control  all  the  circumstances  sur- 


j(jimmmmmmmmmm)mMm 


X 


si 


X 
X 

x; 

X 


1f^/s  IS  A 
MOPEY 


UlUhRuL 

ll 


UlUllu. 


X 
X 

55 


THIS  IS  A 


Mtff  3tunro  M^vut 

It  is  liard  to  find  anything  else  so  sadly  silly  and  so  silly  sad  as  a 
Mopey.  A  Mopey  just  sits  around  by  itself  and  feeLs  sorry  for 
everything.  It  won't  work  or  play  or  make  friends  or  do  anything 
that  wonid  be  fun.  It  just  sits  and  says  it  wishes 
it  were  somewhere  else  or  with  somebody  else  or 
doing  something  different — but  it  never  doe»  any- 
thing about  it  but  be  a  Mopey.  It  even  makes  other 
people  sad  just  thinking  about  it.  Mopeys  are  stupid. 


>-«: 
X 


VVtRt  N(OW  ^  ^AOP£Y  "^^'S  WONTM^ 


I.    \    I)     I     I      s  •        II     U     \|     I  I     O     I      II     \     \  I. 


I  10 


1 


® 


(TTLE  WARMER 
AND  VAPORIZER 

ctrlcally  h«at»  botll*i  to  J 
rod  lomperature;  itiuli 

outomaticatly.    Vapor  i 

attachmont  produce* 
dicoted  tlvam  for  roliof 
cold*.  Pait«l  colon. 
id«l  1013-C  -  -  $2.50 

BOTTLE  STERILIZER 

Steriliiot  lix  baby  bolMoi 
and  nipplfli  eleclrically 
in  live  itaom  ai  rocom- 
mended  by  doctors.  Shuti 
off  aulomatically.  Ineludoi 
bottle  troy  and  nipple  jar. 
Mod«l  872-C  - 


$8.93 


PLASTIC 
FOOD  WARMER 

orfully  des 
tment  pla 
ny  metal  I 

bote  koepi  baby't  food 
rm   throughout  meal. 
Jel  colon. 
)d«l  1450  -  -  -  $2.99 


Bslgned  3  com-  »<  Uiijl 

nlic  diih  let  in  jiw^ 
bote.  Hot  water  •'^m        ^•'T  t 


Af  hahy  thopt,  drug 
and  d»partm»nt  iforei 

Reedtburg,  Wliconiln 


IRN  BABY'S  ROOM  INTO 
 WITH 


ERICA'S  MOST  BELOVED 
ISERY  AND  PLAYROOM 
LL  DECORATIONS 

charming  stories,  beautifully  illustratetl  in  8 
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ian.  6  Walt  Disney  subjects.  Three  dimcn- 
lal  cut  outs,  appr.  IK"  high,  heavy  laminated 
rd.  Ask  for  Dolly  Toy  Pin  ups  at  infant,  toy 
furniture  depis.  If  unobtainable  send  $2.29 
>  each  (  we  ship  prepaid  ) .  Slightly 

Jf]^v        higher  West  of  Rockies.  Write 


for  complete  catalog. 


THI-  DOLLY  TOY  CO. 
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ARN 


TREMENDOUS  SAVINGS! 

Sport   Yarn,    Baby   Yarn  Worsteds, 
dress  yarna  imported  from  Holland  & 
Domestic   Send  10c  to  cover  mailiDe 
t  osts  of  over  500  yarn  samples. 
PETER  PAN  YARNS 
rand  Street.  N.  Y.  City,  Dept.  40,  Established  1920 


rinnulin.:  imliviiliiul  liihnr'..  hiil  irilli  cla-^sfs 
llkf  YiiiiTs.  /)ri/)(inil  mollins  tin-  niilis  iiliftlil 
oj  un/)ri'/)(iri(l  in  inainltiininy,  ciinlrol,  ilinnilv 
iinil  si  rinily. 

Such  IclicTs  n-vc-al  llic  values  llial  the 
Association  fort  liil(ll)irlli  Kducalioii  iiiU-nds 
to  carry  on.  I  )ui  im|.'.  its  brief  existence,  mein- 
t)ers  h.ive  (lone  miuli  more  llian  just  talk. 

I'liey   |)ul)lisli   a    iiiiiiieoKiaphed  iiiontlily 
newsletter  that  noes  to  a  niaihn^  hst  of 
'I'liey  told  alK)ut   their  orKanization  and 
classes  on  several  of  Katlieiiii  \\  ise's  niorn- 
iiiv;  radio  show  over  stal  mn  K(       )  in  Seattle. 

I'heir  newly  trained  teachers  demi>nst rated 
exercises  in  a  dramatized  class  scene  for  the 
Community  Workshop  television  |)ro^;ram. 
( Amonn  the  many  favoral)le  ii  si)oiises  to  the 

TV  siiow  was  a  iK)st  card  from  a  lonely  Korea- 
l)ound  soldiiT  who  said  the  prottram  fasci- 
nated iiim  and  would  they  i)lease  send  infor- 
mation alxnil  the  classes  to  his  pre^^nanl 
wife.) 

As  a  moncy-raisinn  venture,  the  associa- 
tion held  a  "liaby  I.xchan«e  Sale"  baby 
furnishings,  clothes  and  toys,  marked  witli 
tiie  original  price  and  the  new  low  price, 
usually  less  than  half.  Maternity  shops  in 
tile  city  loaned  narments  for  exjK'ctant 
mothers  which  were  modeled  by  women  who 
were  themselves  expect in^.  Several  shops 
nave  toys  and  clothes  which  were  auctioned 
to  the  hinbest  bidder. 

The  event  was  so  profitable,  in  both 
money  and  pleasure,  that  they  plan  to 
make  it  an  annual  affair  and  are  storing 
things  in  one  member's  basement  for  the 
association's  next  Baby  Exchange  Sale  and 
a  public  rummage  sale. 

One  of  ACE's  most  important  accomplish- 
ments has  been  the  recent  establishment  of  a 
professional  Board  of  Consultants,  drawn 
from  a  selected  list  of  obstetricians,  pedia- 
tricians, psychiatrists,  general  practitioners, 
nurses,  parents  and  other  specialists  in 
Seattle.  "  We  hope  our  Consulting  Board  will 
help  us,"  Dr.  Roberta  Taylor  says,  "and 
that  as  parents  we  can  help  them  to  under- 
stand what  we  want." 

The  association  is  eager  to  achieve  the 
conlidence  and  respect  of  more  doctors 
and  hospital  administrators  in  order  to 
further  practices  in  childbirth  which  they 
believe  to  be  of  basic  value  for  healthier 
babies  and  happier  families.  Three  hospi- 
tals in  Seattle  regularly  permit  husbands 
to  be  with  their  wives  in  the  labor  room, 
and  one  hospital  consistently  allows  papa 
to  be  present  at  delivery  as  well.  Others 
do  so  on  occasion,  by  special  request  when 
business  is  not  too  brisk.  Faced  with  such  a 
request,  the  trustees  of  one  hospital  held 
several  meetings  and  decided  to  cut  a  window 
in  the  delivery-room  door  so  the  determined 
father  could  at  least  watch. 

The  association  is  working  on  a  question- 
naire about  breast  feeding.  "We  feel  nursing 
mothers  can  add  a  lot  to  our  knowledge  of 
this  so  simple,  yet  so  complex,  matter — feed- 
ing a  baby!"  says  historian  Joan  Harris. 
"We  hope  also  to  set  up  a  panel  of  registered 
nurses  who  will  be  available  to  'support' 
women  in  labor — with  the  consent  of  doctor 
and  hospital,  of  course." 

Several  meetings  of  ACE  have  been  given 
to  the  viewing  and  discussion  of  special  films 
on  pregnancy  and  childbirth.  Unsatisfied 
with  the  drama  of  childbirth  as  it  has  as  yet 
been  filmed,  members  of  the  group  are  now 
planning  to  make  their  own  movie.  They 
plan  possibly  to  use  a  woman's  voice  for  a 
narration  of  the  mother's  point  of  view.  They 
want  to  show  at  what  points  in  labor  a  woman 
can  use  abdominal  and  costal  breathing  and 
panting  for  greater  comfort  with  contrac- 
tions, and  they  plan  also  to  show  her  facial 
expressions.  Above  all,  they  want  to  empha- 
size that  the  expectant  mother  is  an  indi- 
vidual functioning  personality,  with  a  mind 
as  well  as  a  body  of  her  own.  In  labor,  es- 
pecially, she  should  not  be  treated  like  a 
reproductive  machine — something  to  be 
worked  on  rather  than  a  person  who  can  and 
will  work.  As  Grace  Dunlap,  a  class  assistant, 
commented  in  an  ACE  newsletter,  "We  are 
disappointed  when  a  delivery  is  conducted 
with  no  concession  to  the  fact  that  a  woman 
is  present!"  the  end 


SAVE  up  to  $13  per  pair 

Wonderful,  "NO  IRON" 


ARTHUR  GODFREY  says  "The  loveliest, 
most  economical  curtains  ever  made!" 


RUFFLED 


Usually  $9.98  per  pair,  86"  wide  per 
pair,  54"  long,  os  shown.  6"  Baby 
headed,  dainty  edged  ruflFles,  perma- 
nently stitched.  All  sizes  wide  enough  to 
criss-cross  (as  shown)  or  hang  Priscilla- 
style.  Also  available  in  double  or  triple 
widths. 


TAILORED 


^98 

W  per  pair 


TIERS  998 

per  pair 

Theie  smart  Fiberglo*  Titrj 
odd  thot  elegant  "decor" 
look  lo  a  room.  Uiually  $4,98 
per  pair.  72'  wide  per  poir — 
30'  long.  36'  long,  regu- 
lorly  $5.59— now  $3.19.40' 
long,  regulorly  $5.98 — now 
$3.39  (ill.  jhow,  2  pr,.). 


These  lovely  curtains  distinguish 
any  room.  Usually  $5.98  per  pair. 
78"  wide  per  pair,  45"  long.  See 
how  little  they  cost  (price  lists  be- 
low). Ample  hems,  beautifully 
stitched. 


Enjoy  ALL  these 
extra  advantages 

Fiberglas  economy  is  not  only  in  cost,  but 
in  long-lasting  loveliness,  and  hours  of 
hard  work  saved. 

Fiberglas  Ordinary 
Curtains  Curtains 

Beautiful 
Wash,  dry,  7  min. 
No  ironing 
No  stretching 
No  storching 
No  shrinking 
No  sagging 
No  mildew 
No  rot 

Can't  catch  fire 
Heat  proof 
Resist  sun 
Wash-fast 
Shed  dirt 
Shed  water 
Translucent 
Good  drape 
Long  life 

• 

• 

• 

FIVE  YEAR 
GUARANTEE  certlfi- 
cale  goes  with  eoch  pur- 
chaie. 

NO  IRONINGI  Hong 

dry  in  7  minutes.  Con't 
burn,  shrink  or  rot.  Un- 
harmed by  tun,  mildew, 
rains,  radiator  heat. 


RUFFLED 

Width  to  pair 

86' 

86' 

86' 

86' 

86- 

86- 
174- 
174- 
174- 
174- 
250- 
250- 
250- 
250- 

TAILORED 

78  -  wide  to  pair 


(Double  Width) 
(Double  Width) 
(Double  Width) 
(Double  Width) 
(Triple  Width) 
(Triple  Width) 
(Triple  Width) 
(Triple  Width) 


TIERS 

72  '  wide  to  pair 


Length 

Usually 

NOW 

54' 

$  9.98 

S  s.9a 

63' 

10.98 

6.69 

72' 

11. 98 

7.69 

81  ' 

12.98 

8.39 

90' 

13.39 

8.98 

99' 

14.98 

9.69 

72' 

22.98 

14.98 

81  ' 

24.98 

13.98 

90' 

26.98 

16.98 

99- 

28.98 

17.98 

72' 

32.98 

23.98 

81  ' 

34.98 

23.98 

90' 

36.93 

34.98 

99- 

38.98 

35.98 

Lengih 

Usually 

NOW 

45- 

$5.98 

$3.98 

54- 

6.59 

4.39 

63' 

6.98 

4.79 

72' 

7.79 

S.39 

81  ' 

8.49 

5.79 

90' 

8.98 

5.98 

99' 

9.59 

6.59 

108' 

9.98 

6.98 

Length 

Usually 

NOW 

30' 

$4.98 

$2.98 

36' 

5.59 

3.19 

40' 

5.98 

3.39 

45' 

6.49 

3.79 

3    STYLES  Ruffled,  tiers,  tailored 

2^     SIZES  '° 

Lovely  ivory-white  color 


Order  by  moil  with  full  confidence 


ode  of  Fiberglas 


MONEY-BACK  GUARANTEE 
IF  NOT  100%  SATISFIED! 

Ma/7  Now  for  Immediate  Delivery 


gcde 


5[ 

31  W.  27th  Street,  N.Y.I 

Why  such  amazing  values?  | 

Because  Godell's  specializes  in  I 
fine  curtains,  has  enorinous  buy-  | 
ing  power  plus  great  savings,  | 
in  production  and  distribution, 
which  are  passed  on  to  you. 

IN  N.Y.  VISIT  US  OR  I  Name_ 
PHONE  MU    5-5353  |  Address 
On  N.Y.C.  orders  add  3' ;  lax        I  City  


GODELL'S,  Dept.  F5J 
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EVERY  PIECE  OF 


e^ica:  is  a  collector's  item 


FOR  ROYAL  VISITORS 


GOLDEN  STARS  ON  GLOWING  IVORY 


This  magnificent  service  was  commissioned  by  the  Federal  Government  to  entertain  royalty 
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M  ERICA'S    WORLD-FAMOUS    FINE  CHINA 


For  wedding  in  Christ  Lutheran  Church,  Flusliing,  ^L■w  'lork,  last  July,  Marshall  wore  whites,  Arline  organdy 
(.125).  Dress  is  now  stored  away  "sentimentally,"  veil  loaned  to  unmarried  friend  ("Keep  it  handy — it's  lucky!"). 

OUR  Fl  RST  YEAR 

Beginning  of  a  marriage  .  .  .  Arline  and  Marshall  Irving  of 

Long  Island,  N.  Y.,  learn  to  live  together.     By  Bernard  peyton,  jr. 


WHEN  her  grandfather,  Segelke  Henry 
Timmermann,  gave  Arline  away  to  the 
junior  third  engineer  of  the  S.S.  American 
Producer,  a  small  freighter  of  the  United  States 
Lines,  his  triumph  was  bittersweet.  Arline's 
mother  had  died  when  she  was  two  and  her 
father  when  she  was  ten,  and  since  then  Grandpa 
Pommie,  as  Arline  nicknamed  him  long  ago,  had 
been,  besides  her  guardian,  her  nearest  friend. 
"Her  dad  would  be  proud  of  him!"  How  many 
wedding  guests  had  endorsed  the  groom  that 


way,  and  how  often  had  Grandpa  Pommie 
stoutly  answered,  "You  bet  he  would!" 

Yet  he  wondered  how  this  man  could  sus- 
tain a  joyful  marriage  for  his  only  grandchild. 
Pommie  had  no  worry  for  their  prosperity. 
Anderson  Marshall  Irving  had  been  graduated 
the  year  before — fourth  among  seventy-seven 
engineers  at  the  United  States  Merchant  Marine 
Academy.  He  was  a  whiz  at  electronics.  Hidden 
in  his  bland  friendliness  was  a  tight  ambition 
that  should  sweep  him  far.  But  the  nature  of 


his  job,  keeping  him  almost  perpetually  at  sea, 
would  leave  Arline  alone  most  of  her  young 
married  life. 

His  own  loss  Grandpa  Pommie  never  showed 
as  he  stepped  out  of  the  sunlit  chancel  of 
Christ  Lutheran  Church  in  Flushing,  Long 
Island,  one  warm  Saturday  last  July,  and 
watched  the  minister  wed  Arline  to  Marshall.  He 
remembered,  when  Arline  was  eight  or  ten,  she 
would  clutch  a  discarded  shred  of  lace  curtain 
about  her  blond  bobbed  head  and  imperiously 


PHOTOGRAPHS  BY  JOE  DI  PIETRO 


J  52 


Vlarshall  met  Arliiu-  in  Maicli,  1950,  got  no  new  date  ti 
mid-April  (she  was  "booked,"  he  was  piqued).  June  25,  day 
they  began  going  steady,  "war  in  Korea  came  over  the  car 
radio.  We  turned  to  look  at  each  other  .  .  .  without  a  word." 


Arline  watches  N.Y.  Times  ship  news  for  Marshall's  return. 
First  trip  after  wedding,  he  came  home  5  days  early.  "I'd 
planned  candlelight ...  a  hostess  gown.  There  I  was  in  my  work 
dress,  scrounging  him  a  can  of  beans.  But  we  didn't  care." 


take  his  arm.  They  would  shuttle  the  length  of 
the  parlor  rug,  the  little  girl  insisting,  "More 
slow,  Pommie!  In  weddings,  you  step  slow!" 

Arline  received  a  sound  heritage  from  Grandpa 
Pommie.  A  German  emigrant  at  fifteen,  he  came 
to  New  York,  apprenticed  in  a  family  friend's 
grocery,  and  at  twenty-one  founded  his  own,  at 
the  corner  of  President  Street  and  Seventh 
Avenue,  in  the  well-to-do  Park  Slope  section  of 
Brooklyn.  He  stocked  fresh  fruit  and  vegetables 
the  year  round,  imported  delicacies,  garnished 
steamer  baskets  for  the  voyaging  set,  flourished 
and  bought  a  three-story  English  gray  stone 
house  nearby. 

For  the  last  decade  of  his  life,  Pommie's 
son,  John  Henry  Timmermann,  was  a  partner  in 
the  enterprise,  which  grossed  $150,000  in  a  good 
year,  and  netted  about  $8000.  Lease  of  prop- 
erty Pommie  owned  brought  them  $4000  more. 


When  Arline,  now  twenty-two,  was  little. 
Grandpa  Pommie,  in  his  heavily  starched  knee- 
length  duster,  would  lean  over  the  grocery 
counter  and  watch  her  roll  coconuts  to  the 
kitten — the  only  frivolity  allowed  in  his  store. 
Often  he  took  Arline  clambering  on  the  rocks 
lacing  Brighton  Beach,  or  to  inspect  the  polar 
bear  in  Prospect  Park  Zoo.  In  winter,  the  old 
man  would  belly  flop  on  a  sled  down  the  park 
hills,  Arline  shrieking  on  his  shoulders,  her 
white  muffler  tangling  with  his  prim  fedora.  He 
thanked  her  for  the  interminable  clay  ash  trays 
she  baked  at  the  Berkeley  Institute,  a  private 
coeducational  school  Arline  attended  from  five 
until  she  was  fifteen,  and  listened  to  her  recite, 
"Prenez-moi  du  laitf  for  he  had  studied  French 
for  six  months  back  in  1889. 

Ponderously  they  discussed  whether  she 
would  turn  into  a  cow^girl,  air-line  hostess. 


Parting  and  re-union  — 
today's  theme  song 
for  neivlyiveds 
in  an  unsettled  age. 


veterinarian  or  world-famed  surgeon.  She  be- 
came a  baby-sitter  at  35  cents  an  hour  Friday 
and  Saturday  evenings  in  the  brick-bungalow- 
studded  Queens  neighborhood,  where  they 
moved  in  1945,  after  Pommie,  then  seventy, 
sold  his  Brooklyn  home  and  business.  In  1948, 
the  spring  of  her  graduation  from  Jamaica  High 
School,  Arline  took  a  course  at  the  Barbizon 
school  for  models,  and  began  work  that  Sep- 
tember at  $50  a  week  in  "uptowai"  Manhattan 
custom  salons,  because  Pommie  refused  to  ex- 
pose her  to  the  better-paid  "downtown"  jobs  in 
the  rough  and  bustling  garment  center. 

Of  Arline's  childhood.  Grandpa  Pommie,  who 
reserves  himself  to  few  words,  recalls,  "She 
never  said  'No.'  She  never  caused  a  heartache." 
The  serenity  that  accompanied  her  womanhood 
was  never  more  appreciated  than  during  the 
eight-month  crisis  two  years  ago,  when  her 


I 


nosi 


HIIH  AHmiCA  /JIM 

A 


Ki'r('|ili(in  was  lliroiii^cil  l)y  relatives,  licsl  Irieiids. 

rviiigs,  "I)()wI(m1  over"  by  {^ills,  rceoiv(^(l  riiiiiilure, 
cliiiia,  glass.  Ai  line'sdowry:  family  silver.  Kiigagemeril 

iiig,  970/1000  oi'  a  caral,  was  Marsliairs  iiiotlici  V. 


Packard  '37 — setting  in  whicli  Marshall  proposed. 
"We  were  in  Cunningham  Park.  I'd  been  going  with 
her  6  months.  So  I  asked  her;  figured  she'd  think  it 
over.  She  said  'yes!'  right  away."  She:  "I'd  thought.  " 


invalid  grandmother  was  dying  of  cancer.  Arline 
would  make  her  Grandmother  Dorothea  com- 
fortable in  the  morning,  before  rushing  off  by 
bus  and  subway  to  model  all  day  at  Bonwit 
Teller's.  By  her  return  at  night,  Pommie  would 
have  wheeled  his  wife  into  the  kitchen  so  she 
could  instruct  him  how  to  start  dinner.  Arline 
would  finish  dinner,  give  her  grandmother  a 
bath  and  rub-down,  read  her  the  paper,  quietly 
tell  her  the  doings  of  their  neighbors  while  she 
combed  her  hair,  and  sometimes  invite  her  to 
try  a  hand  at  pinochle,  their  favorite  game  since 
Arline  was  six.  Night  after  night,  Arline  went 
without  rest,  listening  for  her  grandmother's  call, 
and  then  on  a  Saturday  midnight  in  February, 
1951,  her  vigil  ended. 

By  this  time,  Arline  had  known  Marshall  al- 
most a  year.  They  met  March  11,  1950,  the 
result  of  a  luncheon  conference  between  a  New 


Allci  -l-wci.-k  \  rniiiiii  at  Rehol>oth  Beach,  Del- 
aware, and  in  Maryland.  Marshall  went  back  to  soa. 
Arline  grieved:  "4  weeks  ...  2  letters.  I  couldn't 
order  him  to  write."  Marshall:  "One  trip  she  was 
too  busy  to  send  letters.  That's  when  /  began." 


"Fair's  fair,"  bride  disagreed  with  groom  that  she 
\  do  all  dishes.  Marshall,  reluctant,  admits  they  should 
both  pitch  in  while  she  holds  job.  She  fixes  dinner. 
Currently,  he  KP's  on  evenings  she  does  laundry. 


154 


'^JFc'd  like  3  children,  a  home  in  Long  Island  oi' 
Connecticut."  But  the prohleiii:  land  or  sea  job? 


York  producer  of  educational  films  and  Mar- 
shall's father,  Walter  Reid  Irving,  a  junior-high- 
school  English  teacher  in  Baltimore  who  is 
well  known  in  Maryland  as  a  proponent  of 
audiovisual  education.  Marshall,  in  his  third 
year  at  the  Merchant  Marine  Academy  in  Kings 
Point,  Long  Island,  came  to  this  lunch  too.  The 
film  producer's  wife,  head  model  at  Elizabeth 
Arden's,  asked  him  why  he  didn't  take  out  some 
of  her  colleagues.  Marshall  shrugged. 

"So  first  she  introduced  me  to  Daisy,"  Mar- 
shall recalls,  "but  Daisy  couldn't  wait — she 
married  a  weight  lifter — so  then  she  suggested 
Arline.  I  drove  out  one  Saturday  night,  and 
when  I  walked  in  her  door,  I  was  astonished — 
she  was  one  of  those  few  people  I  couldn't 
place  in  a  class.  She  didn't  look  like  anybody  I 
knew — she  was  the  Arline  type. 

"She  was  hiding  the  clock,"  he  adds.  "I  was 
very  late." 

"It  was  very  strange — we  had  to  introduce 
ourselves,"  she  rert>embers.  "It  was  pouring 


rain  and  we  were  going  to  a  movie,  Dorothy 
McGuire,  and  I  forgot  the  door  key  and  had  to 
go  back,  and  I  was  wondering,  'What  must  this 
man  think  of  me?'"  They  weren't  yet  in  love. 

For  five  Saturday  nights,  Arline  was  busy. 
Then  Marshall  began  taking  her  out,  sometimes 
to  parties  on  Jones  Beach,  with  marshmallows 
snickering  in  a  driftwood  fire  and  WNEW  on 
the  radio,  sometimes  to  academy  movies  or 
dances.  Once,  to  Marshall's  dismay,  she  sat  be- 
side the  dean  at  a  skit  night,  and  later  observed, 
"He  was  so  jolly  and  nice — I  can't  imagine  how 
anybody  could  dislike  him!"  Of  their  fifth  date, 
Marshall  recalls,  "We  had  a  high-fidelity  setup — 
1  had.to  run  the  mike  cables  and  fix  the  speaker 
enclosures  to  harmonize  with  the  mess  hall.  We 
had  about  three  hundred  times  the  po\Ver  we 
needed — all  wasted,  really."  Arline  remepibers, 
"I  was  wondering  when  he  was  going  to  kiss  me, 
and  he  did." 

Marshall  won  his  case  in  absentia  and  with 

devastating  finality  (Continued  on  Page  166) 


Marshall's  pay  covers  rent,  milk,  "regular"  bills, 
savings.  Her  salary  helps  meet  weekly  expenses: 
$15  allowance  for  each;  $16  extras;  $15  food 
fund,  kept  in  toy  bank  she  has  used  since  age  10. 


HOW  A  mm  LUES 


Marshall  likes  his  work,  shipmates,  travel.  "But  for 
a  family — plan  to  line  up  some  kind  of  job  with 
a  normal  home  life."  Names  already  decided  for 
future  members  of  family:  Brent,  Marshall,  Anne. 


'     \    "    I     K    H  '       H    <»     \l     I.        Jill      li     N     V  I. 


Towle  lite.  Co..  1963 


tfOWLE  STERLIIVO 

Since  1690  .  .  .  Newhuryport,  Massachusetts 


Here  is  a  lovely  sophisticate,  at  home  in  any  setting. 
Its  design  origins  are  universal  —  undated,  ageless. 

Esplanade's  baroque  richness  speaks  of  other  worlds,  other  vears. 
Its  deep,  bold  carving  and  daring  outline  typify  your  world,  todav. 
Its  clear,  vigorous  grace  makes  your  table  a  blend  of  countless  lovely  influences. 
Towle's  centuries-old  genius  has  wrought  Esplanade  grandly  in  solid,  solid  silver. 

Yet  a  sbc-piece  place  setting  is  $37.50;  a  teaspoon  of  timeless  beauty,  S4.85. 


Arline  likes  the  tailored  look  of  a  cardigan  suit  of  rayon-and-acetate  linen 
.  .  .  wears  it  commuting  to  Neiv  York  to  work,  with  a  visor  hat,  cotton  gloves. 


LEOMBRUNO  •  BODI 


The  bowknot  dress  in  Sanforized  polka-dot  chintz,  by  Rappi,  is 
perfect  for  dancing  in  the  country  or  in  town  in  midsummer. 

"There's  nothing  like  a  siveater-dress,'"  Arline  thinks,  for  its 
many  uses.  This  one  is  acetate  Paisley  tie-print,  by  Greta  Plattry. 


Silli-sliantunfi  suit  for  summer, 
ivll/i  a  small  liaf,  liiicii  f/arrtf/s. 

lUncI,  sltdiiliin^ hiisic (Irrss,  ho 
IcrojaiLii.Jonn  \<>rl()ii  Iru  iii. 


Her  lig/itueight  tweed  suit-skirt  can  be  worn  u  illi  siiniiiis. 
three-quarter-length  coat  is  a  spring,  summer  and  fall  fashion  for  everything. 


I.KOMBRUN(>«BODl 

The  red  fleece 


Printed  Sanforized  pique  skirt  b) 
Jacques  Heim,  ivorn  icith  a  halter. 


trousseau 


Like  many  other  girls  today,  Arline  Irving  counted  on  her  honey- 
moon clothes  to  make  a  practical  wardrobe  for  a  double  career — in 
her  case,  homemaking  and  fashion  modeling.  Three  good  suits  are 
three  good  answers  in  any  girl's  language — one  wool,  one  silk,  one 
Unen.  Fim  clothes  consist  of  bright  separates  for  the  beach  or  any 
summer  week  end,  and  a  bare-top  cotton  for  parties.  Other  musts 
in  Arline's  plan:  a  black  dress,  a  bright  red  coat,  plenty  of  bracelets, 
cotton  gloves,  pretty  pumps  and  play  shoes.  By  Ruth  M  ary  Packard 


Hon  mm  lives 

/I 


Trousseau  suit  of  pale  blue  lightweight  tweed  is  right 
for  seasons  to  come,  and  for  any  kind  of  travel. 


158 


L   A   D    I    K    S  ' 


Meadow  Gold 

Mea/t/me 
Adventures 


r 


1 


Recipe  for  ICE  CREAM 
SANDWICH  ROYALE 


2  cups  flour 
2  Vi  tl>8[i.  <*ocoa 
2  V2  thsp.  8u^ar 
I  tap.  salt 


V3  ru|i  shortening 
6  to  8  tbsp.  cold 

water 
1  V2  tsp.  vanilla 


V3  eup  Meadow  Gold    1  qt.  IVIeadow  Gold 
Butler  Vanilla  Ice (^ream 

Combine  flour,  cocoa,  sti^ar  and  salt.  Cut 
in  shortenines  wit  li  pastry  iilendcr  or  two 
knives.  Stir  in  water  and  vanilla  with  a 
fork:  nii\  until  ilouiili  rounds  into  a  hall. 
Roll  out  on  lightly  floured  surface  to  Vg 
inch  thickness.  <^ut  int«>  sixteen  .3  \  3  V2 
inch  ohlongs.  rri<-k  pastry  with  a  fork. 
Place  on  baking;  sheet  an<l  bake  in  a  very 
hot  oven  (450^)  6  to  8  minutes.  <^)f»l.  Hut 
ice  cream  into  1  inch  slices  and  place 
between  two  oblongs*  Serve  with  a  clioco- 
late  sauce,  adding  peanuts  to  sauce. 
Makes  8  servings. 

Do  you  know  why  I  suggest  Meadow  Gold 
Vanilla  Ice  Cream?  Because  it  is  truly  creamier 
and  smoother!  Made  with  rich,  golden  country 
cream  and  pure,  spice  island  vanilla,  it  is 
smooth-frozen  in  a  special  Meadow  Gold  way. 

As  for  the  butter  in  the  pastry —  you'll  find 
the  churned-fresh  flavor  of  Meadow  Gold  Butter 
makes  a  delicious  difference.  Say  "Meadow 
Gold"  for  all  the  best  dairyland  products! 


she  is  simply  a  warm,  outgiving  person, 
pretty  and  hospitable,  and  very  successful  at 
making  her  family  and  friends  enjoy  them- 
selves in  comfort. 

"I  always  entertain  at  home,  whether 
parlies  are  large  or  small,"  Mary  Lord  said, 
"and  I  feel  that  this  is  especially  important 
when  people  from  other  countries  are  guests. ' ' 

Home,  in  New  York,  is  an  apartment, 
roomy  enough  to  accommodate  a  lot  of  peo- 
ple without  a  crush.  The  high-ceilinged  liv- 
ing room  with  its  pale  green  walls  and  wood- 
work has  a  pleasant  lived-in  look.  Over  the 
fireplace  is  a  charming  portrait  of  Mary 
Lord  painted  when  she  was  thirteen,  and  on 
one  wall  are  portraits  of  their  two  boys, 
Charles,  nineteen,  and  Winston,  fifteen.  The 
tables  and  cabinets  hold  a  collection  of 
Staffordshire  and  Chelsea  figurines  and  sets 
of  miniature  china.  Some  of  these  are  gifts 
from  friends,  but  most  of  them  have  been 
collected  by  the  Lords  in  their  travels. 

Because  of  her  workwithUNICEF(  United 
Nations  International  Children's  Emergency 
Fund )  and  other  committees,  Mary  Lord  has 
had  to  do  a  lot  of  traveling  abroad.  "It's  de- 
lightful to  be  entertained  in  the  homes  of  peo- 
ple I  meet  there.  And  when  they  come  to  New 
York  I  love  to  return  their  hospitality.  It's 
so  important  that  we  know  each  other 
better,  have  a  chance  to  compare  customs 
and  standards,  and  this  can  be  accom- 
plished best  in  our  own  homes  among  our 
own  friends. 

"I  hadn't  consciously  realized  I  had  a 
philosophy  of  entertaining,"  she  went  on. 
"But  there  are  some  points  I  consider  essen- 
tial and  perhaps  that's  a  philosophy.  I  like 
to  mix  old  friends  with  new — my  guest  lists 
are  usually  about  half  and  half  old  friends 
and  people  who  have  never  met  before — and 
it's  more  fun  when  contrasting  fields  of 
activity  are  represented.  We  don't  play 
games,  we  just  talk — but  we  do  talk !  I  don't 
mind  if  controversial  subjects  are  intro- 
duced— in  fact,  I'm  apt  to  throw  one  in  my- 
self if  no  one  else  does.  If  everyone  thinks 
alike  we  may  let  one  person  take  the  floor, 
but  if  we  disagree  we  each  want  to  have  our 
say,  and  that's  lively. 

"The  way  people  are  introduced  is  an  im- 
portant point,  I  think,  and  I'm  careful  about 
that.  I  try  to  speak  names  clearly — I  hope  I 
don't  mumble — but  names  aren't  enough.  I 
like  to  give  people  a  little  background  knowl- 
edge of  each  other  so  that  they  have  a  basis 
for  beginning  a  conversation.  A  few  words, 
such  as  'This  is  Mr.  Ali  of  the  Diplomatic 
Corps — he  was  minister  from  Pakistan';  or, 
'This  is  Robert  Montgomery — he  has  given 
up  his  movie  career  as  actor  and  director  to 
become  a  news  commentator,'  and  so  on. 

"Another  thing  that  seems  essential  to  me 
is  mobility,  especially  when  parties  are  large. 
There  should  be  a  reason  for  people  to  move 
about,  and  an  easy  way  to  accomplish  this  is 
to  have  as  much  self-service  as  possible.  I 
have  food  in  one  room  and  drinks  in  another 
and  very  little  passing  of  either.  My  husband 
usually  handles  the  drinks,  which  gives  him 
a  chance  to  talk  with  everyone.  I'm  all  for 
the  come-and-get-it  technique.  If  you  feel 
you're  talked  out  with  one  person  or  group, 
you  can  always  say,  'Let's  go  nibble  at  the 
food,'  and  get  yourself  lost.  Of  course  if  I  see 
people  who  really  are  stuck  in  a  spot  I  come 
to  the  rescue,  but  I  make  very  sure  they  want 
to  be  rescued  before  I  interfere. 

"I  think  my  favorite  way  of  entertaining  is 
the  small  dinner  party,"  Mary  Lord  con- 
tinued. "Here  I  seat  people  at  the  table  with 
a  view  to  exchange  of  ideas.  Place  cards  are 
so  helpful— they  prove  that  careful  thought 
has  been  given  to  the  problem  of  who  will  sit 
next  to  whom.  And  when  I  have  buffet  par- 
ties and  use  card  tables,  place  cards  are  even 
more  necessary,  I  think.  Otherwise  people' 
are  apt  to  sit  at  the  first  table  they  come  to 
just  because  they  don't  want  to  appear  to  be 
selective — which  doesn't  always  make  for 
the  best  combinations." 

Another  kind  of  entertaining  the  Lords  en- 
joy is  the  before-the-theater,  concert  or  lec- 
ture party.  "These  aren't  dinners,"  she  said. 


0    M    K       ,1    O    U    K    N    A  L 


*'WHEN  1  ENTERTAIN" 

(Continued  from  Page  64) 

"There  isn't  time  for  a  leisurely  dinner,  but 
there's  plenty  of  time  to  eat,  if  the  food  and 
service  are  planned  for  a  hurry-up  affair.  I 
have  a  big  variety  of  hors  d'oeuvres  with  at 
least  two  hot  things,  and  coffee  and  petits 
fours.  It  adds  up  to  a  real  meal,  and  it's 
pleasant  to  be  with  friends  who  are  going  on 
later  to  share  some  exciting  experience." 

She  added,  "I  like  the  simple  unadorned 
hors  d'oeuvre — not  the  gooey  fancy  kind 
that  after  the  first  bite  goes  spilling  down 
your  neck  or  your  dress.  Not  that  I  object  to 
food  looking  pretty — it's  terribly  important 
that  it  should— but  I  think  it  always  does  if 
it's  carefully  prepared  and  garnished  without 
too  many  elaborate  touches." 

And  now  to  practical  food  talk,  menus  and 
recipes  of  Urs.  Lord's,  which  I'm  eager  to 
give  you. 

Htftarti-the-Theutvr  Supper 

"All  food  is  served  from  a  buffet.  The 
guests  come,  take  their  choice  depending 
upon  their  appetites,  and  the  interference 
and  time-consuming  business  of  having 
things  passed  is  eliminated.  One  hot  sub- 
stantial dish  will  satisfy  the  hungry  guests. 
For  them  there  is  a  chafing  dish  of  curried- 
turkey  amandine  with  grilled  toast  points. 
For  a  hot  hors  d'oeuvre,  tiny  patty  shells 
filled  with  deviled  crab  are  a  great  favorite, 
and  we  always  like  a  tray  of  raw  vegetables 
with  a  dip  and  some  sea  food,  such  as  mari- 
nated shrimp.  With  simple  sandwiches — in 
this  case  cucumber,  chive  and  cream  cheese — 
and  small  pastries  and  coffee,  we  can't  be 
hungry." 

CURRIED-TURKEY  AMANDINE 

Get  a  siiiall  ttirkey  weighing  about  8 
pounds,  put  it  ill  a  kettle  with  5  cups  water,  1 
tablespoon  and  1  teaspoon  salt,  cover  and 
bring  to  a  boil.  Lower  heat  and  poach  until 
tender.  If  done  in  a  presstire  cooker,  use  4 
cups  water  and  give  it  4.5  inintites  at  15 
potinds.  Take  out  ttirkey,  strain  broth  and 
chill.  Scrape  all  fat  from  top  of  broth.  Re- 
move skin,  bones  and  gristle  from  turkey  and 
cut  meat  into  bite-size  cubes.  In  a  kettle  melt 
)4,  pound  butter  or  margarine  and  blend  in 
10  tablespoons  flour,  1  tablespoon  and  1  tea- 
spoon curry  powder,  and  a  pinch  of  saffron. 
Add  5  cups  turkey  broth  and  1  cup  bleached 
seedless  raisins  and  cook,  stirring  constantly, 
until  sauce  is  thick  and  boiling.  If  you  like, 
}^  cup  sherry  may  be  substituted  for  1^2  •'up 
broth,  and  1  clove  garlic,  finely  minced,  may 
be  included.  Add  6  well-packed  cups  turkey 
and  2  cans  drained  button  mushrooms  and 
keep  hot  until  serving  time.  Blanch  6  ounces 
almonds,  split  in  half  and  cut  the  long  way 
into  slender  slivers.  Dry  and  lirown  delicately 


"O/  course  not.  They're  mine  and  I  don'' I 
want  to  forget  to  have  them  resoled!" 


May,  1953 


in  butter  or  margarine,  either  in  oven  or  on' 
top  of  range.  To  serve,  put  turkey  in  chafing 
dish  or  some  dish  that  can  be  kept  hot  on 
buffet,  and  sprinkle  top  with  toasted  al- 
monds. .Serve  with  points  of  bread  that  have 
been  grilled  or  toasted. 

PATTY  SHELLS  WITH  DEVILED  CRAB 

Buy  or  make  bite-size  patty  shells.  You  can 
buy  them  in  boxes  at  your  grocer's,  but  ihese 
are  two  bites  instead  of  one.  Remove  bones 
from  3-^  pound  crab  meat,  fresh,  canned  or 
frozen,  and  add  1  canned  piiniento,  chopped. 
Melt  3  tablespoons  butter  or  margarine, 
blend  in  3  tablespoons  flour  and  add  1  ^  cups 
milk,  1  teaspoon  dry  mustard  blended  to 
paste  in  a  little  milk,  1  small  onion,  grated,  1 
2  teaspoons  Worcestershire,  2  teaspoons 
catchup,  2  dashes  Tabasco  and  1  small  clove  ( 
garlic,  crushed.  Salt  to  taste.  Cook,  stirring  { 
constantly,  until  thick  and  bubbling.  Add  ( 
the  crab-and-pimiento  mixture.  Fill  patty 
shells  with  deviled  crab  and  keep  hot  in  low 
oven  until  ready  to  serve. 

MARINATED  SHRIMP 

Put  as  many  cooked  shrimp  as  you  think 
you'll  need  in  a  quart  jar  and  add  3^  cup 
vinegar,  cup  salad  oil,  1  teaspoon  salt,  a 
few  drops  garlic  juice,  a  dash  of  Tabasco,  2 
tablespoons  chopped  chives,  2  tablespoons 
chopped  parsley,  and  2  tablespoons  chopped 
dill  pickle.  Shake  jar  well  and  store  in  re- 
frigerator. Do  this  a  day  in  advance  and 
shake  jar  often.  The  shrimp  have  a  wonderful 
taste  and  they  aren't  at  all  messy  to  eat. 
Serve  with  toothpicks. 


ASSORTED  RAW  VEGETABLES 
WITH  DIP 

Use  whatever  vegetables  you  like:  radish 
roses,  celery  strips,  green  peppers,  cauli- 
flower, carrot  curls.  To  make  carrot  curls, 
roll  very  thin  slices  of  carrots,  fasten  with 
toothpicks  and  let  stand  in  ice  water.  Re- 
move toothpicks  before  serving — the  carrots 
will  stay  curled. 

Dif>  for  ]  cf!f>tahles :  Mix  %  cup  chili  sauce, 
^  cup  mayonnaise,  2  tablespoons  prepared 
horse-radish,  I  teaspoon  prepared  mustard 
and  1  tablespoon  minced  onion. 

CUCUMBER-CREAM  CHEESE-AND- 
CHIVE  SANDWICHES 

Discard  seeds  from  1  peeled  cucumber 
and  chop  very  line.  Drain  off  juice.  Blend 
with  9  ounces  cream  cheese,  3  teaspoons 
chopped  chives,  salt  to  taste.  Make  three" 
decker  sandwiches  of  thinly  sliced  bread. 
Remove  crusts  and  cut  each  sandwich 
diagonally  into  4  pieces.  THE  END 


I,    A    I)    I    F    S  •       II    O    \1    i:       J    <»    IJ    U    N    A  f. 


I  r>9 


They  Opened  Their  Door  to  a  Wonderful  World! 


If  you  know  of  a  young  man  (or 
woman)  who  might  be  interested  in 
becoming  a  Keystone  representative, 
either  year  'round  or  during 
his  vacation,  have  him  write  to  the 
nearest  office  Hsted  here. 


KEYSTONE  READERS'  SERVICE 


200  Berkeley  St.,  Boston,  Mass. 
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1570  Penobscot  Bldg.,  Detroit  26,Mi<:h. 

724  Ninth  St.,  N.W. 


617  West  Capitol  St.,  Jack.wn,  Miss. 
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811  Clark  Bldg.,  Pittsburgh  22,  Pa. 
Washington,  D.C. 


or  Keystone  Readers'  Service  Inc.,  Bryn  Mawr,  Pa. 


•  When  the  Keystone  man  comes  to  call  you  can  welcome  him  cordially 
into  your  home,  for  he  brings  you  only  the  finest  in  magazines.  Keystone 
representatives  are  proud  of  their  jobs  .  .  .  bringing  the  best  reading  in  the 
world  right  to  your  door  .  .  .  magazines  you  know  and  like  .  .  .  The  Saturday 
Evening  Post,  The  Ladies'  Home  Journal,  Today's  Woman,  Modern  Screen, 
Mademoiselle,  Newsweek,  Parents'  Magazine,  True,  Holiday,  Country  Gen- 
tleman and  many  others. 

S 

•  When  the  Keystone  man  calls,  ask  him  in!  You'll  know  him  by  the  insignia 
on  his  lapel,  or  identification  card.  He'll  take  only  a  few  minutes  of  your 
time  and  give  you  the  convenience  of  ordering  the  magazines  you  have  long 
wanted  to  receive  regularly  at  your  home. 

•  Today,  more  than  5,000  specially  trained  men  and  women  represent  Key- 
stone, the  largest  independent  door-to-door  magazine  subscription  service 
in  the  country — a  service  organization  dedicated  to  bringing  you  good  reading 
for  over  twenty  years. 

•  So  when  you  open  your  door  to  your  Keystone  representative,  you  have 
opened  your  door  not  merely  to  a  pleasant,  congenial  and  interesting  person 
.  .  .  you  have  opened  your  door  to  a  wonderful  world. 


HAROLD  FOWLER 

The  2'  X  4'6"  piece  of  marble  for  tlie  table  top  cost  -140;  small  dining  chairs  are  about  $20  each;  the  gold-framed 
mirror  above  the  small  console  was  purchased  at  a  secondhand  store  for  $12.  Decorative  screen  at  the  right 
separates  the  dinette  from  the  living  room,  was  made  from  lengths  of  stamped  metal  mesh  enclosed  in  a  pine  frame. 


Youno  Home-Builders 

By  NANCY  CRAWFORD 

''We'd  like  to  use  our  T  x  11'  entrance  hall  as  a  dining  area,"  said 
Arline  and  Marshall  Irving.  "Is  there  any  way  we  could  seat  four  people, 
with  four  chairs,  a  serving  cart,  and  some  storage  space  too?" 


First  step  in  papering  a  floor:  trim  the  margin  of  the  paper 
away  as  indicated  on  each  sheet.  Each  length  of  paper 
should  meet  exactly  the  edge  of  next  panel  beside  it. 


IN  a  small  area  like  this,  the  choice  of 
dining  table  is  all-important,"  said  H.  T. 
Williams,  who  has  designed  so  many  attrac- 
tive Journal  interiors.  "I'd  suggest  a  marble- 
topped  table  with  the  base  mounted  on  in- 
conspicuous rollers,  to  be  used  flat  against 
the  wall  when  you  and  Marshall  are  having 
dinner  at  home  alone,  or  pulled  out  length- 
wise into  the  room,  to  seat  four,  perhaps 
five,  when  you  are  having  guests." 

"What  about  the  floor?"  asked  Arline. 
"Is  there  some  kind  of  soft,  inexpensive  rug 
we  can  get?" 

"It  wouldn't  be  wise  to  plan  for  a  rug  on 
the  floor  if  you  are  going  to  have  the  roller 


table,  since  it  would  interfere  with  mobility. 
But  I'll  tell  you  what  you  might  do — you 
might  paper  the  floor  with  wallpaper  in  an 
attractive  tile  design!  When  coated  with  a 
waterproof  lacquer,  and  several  applications 
of  heavy  colorless  varnish,  wallpaper  be- 
comes a  hard,  durable  flooring,  easy  to  keep 
clean,  and  as  resistant  to  dust,  muddy  over- 
shoes or  grease  as  you  could  want.  It's  one 
of  the  best  ways  I  know  to  get  a  handsome, 
unusual  effect  very  cheaply." 

"The  light  in  the  entrance  hall  is  very 
dim,  always,  with  the  one  wall  fixture  we 
have  now,"  said  Arline.  "Is  there  anything 
we  can  do  about  that?" 

"I'd  suggest  a  branched  candelabra  for 
the  wall  over  the  dining  table,  with  a  spread 
of  about  a  foot  and  a  half;  not  so  large  as  to 
overbalance  the  rest  of  the  room,  but  cover- 
ing a  wide  enough  area  to  give  adequate 
light.  As  for  storage  space,  there  isn't  room 
for  much.  I  do  think,  however,  that  a  small 
shallow  console  at  the  far  end  of  the  dinette 
would  give  you  room  to  keep  linens  and 
silver  within  convenient  reach." 

PAPERING  THE  FLOOR 

The  Irvings  first  purchased  a  kit  of  wall- 
paper tools  for  $1.35,  containing  paste  brush, 
smoothing  brush,  cutting  wheel,  seam  roller, 


I'.if;lil-lii()t  siaiii|)i-il  iiicliil  iiii-mIi  xcrn-ii  i->  in  riiiir  pitiii-lx,  i-ai'li  l.'t" 
lliTiiss.  Arlinc  iiiiil  M,ic<IimII  |iiiiiilr<|  ilir  im-lal  srcliniix  miiIi  fi^t 
I  he         ll.Miir  lllil^lii'il  \Mlli  |iilir  ^^lln  ami  llirii  \Mi\ril. 


anil  ~ii  1)11,  ,111(1  A 
iKillN.    I  lir\  liillll 

lulls  oi  .'{()"  wallj), 
lldiir  (il  llicii  iliiK 
lalili',  llii'N  ^|iirail 
anil  nil  llir  jilrri 
l<'ll^lll>.  (  rill-  WHO 

iH'iiiy    new,  was 


lianii\  liilili'i  III  iii-^liiii' 
1  lii.il  It  ii'i{illiril  lliiri' 
l|irl  I  n  I  1 1\  I'l  I  III'  ,  \  II 
Mr.  L. irk  II  If  .1  II  ill^  W  1 II  k 
I  III'  I  I  ilU  ( III  I  I  III  I  III'  lllllll', 
mill  -^llflllU  iiM'l  I  I  ' 
I  lliKil  111^  (i|  llii'll  iliiii'llr. 

(•\i-ii    and    -n  lli,  llic 


lioanis  lii^lilly  jniiinl.  II.  Imucv it,  llicrr  arc 
(  Tai'ks,  liiilcs  III'  ilrnls  in  mhii  IIddi'.  iIicsc 
sliiiiilil  III'  Illicit  ill  raiclnlK  vvilli  |ilasli(' 
\Minil  anil  Miii ii il licil  iinl  licliirc  vmi  al- 
lcni|)l  111  |ia|>i'r  llic  llnnr.  ( )|  licrw  isc,  as  ym 
nsc  the  llimi.  n;;l\  litli^cs  will  a|i|icai  In  mar 
llic  iKi|icrcil  snrlacc.)  The  nc\l  slcji  was  a 
llioi(inj;li  sizing  ul  llic  liarc  lldiir  In  make  a 
fiddd  lianl  siirlacc.  (Si/.in;^  cnmcs  in  a 
|)(i\\(lcicil  (ir  a  jclKlikc  lorm,  shmiiil  he 
mixcil  \silli  walcr,  lullow iiiji  llic  ilircclioiis 
(111  llic  ciinlaiiicr.)  Marshall  iiiniKi  llial 
since  |ia|)cr  c\i>aiiiis  wluMi  wcl  il  was  best  lo 
ajijiK  the  walijiaper  paste  direcllv  l<> 
|ia|i('r.  There  is  less  cliaiicc  id  ils  hiisleriiig 
•iUic\ciil\  lluiii  il  yim  apply  dry  paper  lo  a 
floor  coated  with  paste.  \\  hen  the  paper  was 
snioollih  applied,  and  ili  \ , 
with  the  palli'rn  carelully 
lualelied,  they  applied 
three  coats  of  a  stain- 
proofing,  waterproofing 
lacquer,  which  makes  the 
flooring  washable  and  im- 
pervious to  dirt  and  grease. 
Next  came  six  coats  of  a 
heavy,  colorless  plastic 
varnish,  which  insures  a 
tough,  durable  surface. 
(Be  sure  to  wait  24  hours 
between  applications  so 
that  each  coat  will  dry  and 
harden  completely.)  After 
a  month,  they  applied  an- 
other coat  of  varnish — have  found  that  it 
is  a  good  idea  to  continue  doing  this  from 
time  to  time  to  "refresh"  the  hard  surface. 


Pleated  paper  shade  cost  about  ^J. 


LAMP  M«)M  A  CIIKMIST'S  FI-ASK 

The  altractive  green  glass  lamp  in  Arliiie 
and  Marshall's  living  room  (seen  on 
I'age  162)  was  originally  a  giant  12-liler 
laboratory  flask.  Liking 
""•"^  -  .  the  graceful  shape  of  these 
hollies,  the  Irvings  pur- 
chased one  of  them  from 
a  chemical-supply  house 
for  $5.7S.  They  first 
poured  into  the  bottle 
about  a  cupful  of  bright 
green  enamel  paint,  sloshed 
it  around  till  the  inside 
of  the  bottle  was  com- 
pletely and  evenly  coated, 
poured  it  out  and  allowed 
the  bottle  to  drain.  (Rest 
the  bottle  upside  down  on 
a  deep,  wide-mouthed  tin 
can;  the  bottle  will  bal- 
ance and  drain  till  il  is  dry.)  When  the 
flask  was  dry,  they  fitted  the  neck  with 
a  simple  clamp-on  electric  fixture  and  harp. 


immm  ims 


The  first  thing  Arlinc  and 
Marshall  noticed  about  their 
new  living  room  was  an  un- 
sightlv  radiator  smack  in 
front  of  the  big  window  .  They 
decided  that  a  series  of  maple 
cabinets  stretching  the  length 
of  the  front  of  the  room 
would  camouflage  the  radi- 
ator and  provide  much-needed 
storage  space.  They  had  the 
cabinets  fronted  with  hand- 
some blond  caning,  costing 
SI. 25  per  square  foot,  which 
allows  plentv  of  heat  to  come 
throuflh  from  the  radiator. 


10  1 


Arliiif  lihiii  >,  up  ni:u  i  lollu:i  liaii/^er. 


I  lial  yiiii  can  buy  iiilialablc  plastic  cidtlies  liangers, 
blow  llicrn  up  like  balloon.i?  They're  particularly 
f^ood  lor  traveling  (did  you  ever  find  enough  bangers 
in  a  hotel  closet?).  Deflate,  fold  up,  and  luck  in  a 

I  oriicr  of  your  suitcase. 

II  your  closets  arc;  dark,  as  Arlirie  and  Marslialfs  are, 
there  i.s  a  closet  light,  .simple  to  install,  that  goes 

on  when  you  open  the 
door,  off  when  you  close 
it.  .  .  .  If  you  have  too 
few  closet.s,  you  might 
/consider  the  new  pre- 
fabricated closets  that 
come  all  ready  made, 
with  sliding  doors,  ad- 
justable shelves. 

Did  you  know  that 
there's  a  small  metal 
leaf,  SI. 25,  which,  placed 
in  your  dishpan  along  with  your  silver  and  dishes,  will 
"attract"  tarnish  from  silverware?  .  .  .  That  you 
could  buy  tarnish-resistant,  chemically  treated  flannel 
for  S2.95  per  yard,  and  line  a  special  silver  drawer 
with  it  so  that  you  have  to  get  out  your  polishing 
tools  about  half  as  often? 

There  are  new  little  brush  dispensers  containing 
black  or  white  lacquer  for  touching  up  scratches 
in  enamel  .  .  .  stain  lor  removing  scars  from  wood 
furniture  in  mahogany,  walnut  and  maple  finishes. 

Did  you  know  that  there  is  a  new  plastic  pigment 
spray  for  recoloring  upholstered  furniture?  Comes 
in  pressurized  dispensers,  in 
thirteen  decorator  colors.  You  can 
quickly  turn  a  soiled  gray  sofa 
or  chair  into  a  bright  cherry  red. 
for  instance,  retaining  the  orig- 
inal texture  of  the  material.  No 
stiff,  clogged,  "painted"  look. 
Can  be  used  on  rugs,  curtains 
(maybe  your  convertible  top?). 

There  is  a  metal  frame,  working 
on  the  same  principle  as  a  sock 
or  glove  stretcher,  for  washable  trousers,  jeans,  slacks. 
Put  trousers  on  the  frame  while  they  are  damp.  It 
eliminates  need  for  ironing,  makes  a  perfect  crease. 

For  sticking  drawers  and  windows,  you  might  try  a 
special  jellied  lubricant  that  makes  them  work  like  a 
breeze  the  first  time  you  use  it.  The  effect  lasts  and 
lasts.  Comes  in  a  tube  with  its  own  sponge-rubber 
nozzle  for  easy  application. 

If  a  door  does  not  fit  flush  with  the  floor,  there  is  a 
new  gadget  to  attach  which  will  shut  out  drafts.  As 
you  close  the  door,  a  strip  of  felt  automatically  comes 
down  into  place,  fitting  snugly.  Open  the  door,  and 
the  felt  rises,  clearing  the  carpet. 


n 

U 


n 


HAROLD  FOWLER 


The  prettiest  of  pinks  is  the  Irvings'  hackproimd  for  u  colorful  print,  rihrnnt  reels,  jewol-loned  greens;  the  cnne-fronted  cabinets  hlend  with  soft  tones. 


By  CY^TTniA  Mr  AIIOO 


FIRST  things  first,  decided  the  Irvings  when 
it  came  to  the  initial  buying  for  their  liv- 
ing room.  One,  the  rug — gray  because  it  was 
neutral,  not  wall-to-wall  since  they  might  wish 
to  use  it  some  other  place,  some  other  day. 
Two,  the  sofa — modern  because  they  like  it. 
sectional  for,  again,  practical  future  reasons. 
Three,  an  armchair,  not  too  big,  not  too 
small,  and  very,  very  comfortable.  Td  love 
a  pink  room,"  said  Arline.  Marshall  had  no 
objections,  so  pink  it  is  and  pretty,  with 
bright  emerald  greens  and  coral  reds.  They 


chose  a  pink  almost  as  pale  as  the  walls  to 
slipcover  the  couch;  for  armchair  and  draper- 
ies, a  cotton  patterned  in  pinks,  greens,  yel- 
lows; green  corduroy  to  upholster  the  twin 
armless  chairs.  Their  end-table  nests  do 
double  duty  for  entertaining. 

Matched  to  their  furniture,  the  cabinets 
they  built  provide  storage  space  for  these 
music  lovers'  equipment,  cover  up  an  un- 
attractive radiator.  In  this  limited  space  the 
Irvings  have  managed  to  create  a  lovely 
room  suited  to  their  likes  and  needs. 


\  I)  I   i:  H  •     II  (I  \i   I      I  <i  I    i(   N   \  I 


This  is 
the  life  .  • . 

with  a  G-E  Freezer! 


PREPARE  DINNER  ill  iiuu  ll  It'MH  lime. 
When  you  own  a  spaciouH  (len- 
iTiil  ICIt'c-tric  I'Yei'Zfr,  Ihorf's  no 
nci'd  to  wash,  pi-el  or  pari'  fotxls 
liist  hcfort'  mealtime. 


AVOID    RAINY-DAY  MARKETING. 

Sliop  only  when  you're  in  the 
mood.  And,  this  handy  "super- 
market" in  your  own  home  takes 
so  Httle  floor  space. 


TREAT  UNEXPECTED  GUESTS  to  a  full- 
course  dinner.  No  worry  about 
what  to  serve — your  G-E  Freezer 
holds  a  variety  of  meats,  fruits,  ■ 
vegetables,  baked  goods. 


ENJOY  YOUR  GARDEN  crops  all  year 
round.  With  a  General  Electric 
Freezer  you  enjoy  home-grown 
strawberries,  corn,  asparagus,  etc. 
any  time. 


ECONOMIZE  ON  MEATS.  Buy  meats, 
delicacies  and  other  foods  during 
special  sales.  Isn't  it  time  you 
invested  in  a  dependable  General- 
Electric  Food  Freezer? 


NEW,  ROOMY 

Freezers 


For  any  size  family — any  size  home! 


When  you  go  to  buy  a  food  freezer,  keep  these  consid- 
erations in  mind: 

1.  the  capacity  of  the  freezer. 

General  Electric  has  exactly  the  size  that's  ideal  for 
your  family. 

2.  the  location  of  the  freezer  in  your  home.* 

The  new  (jI-E  Food  Freezers  are  compact — yet  so 
roomy!  There's  one  that's  just  right  for  your  family. 
Both  upright  and  iiorizontal  types  are  available. 

3.  the  dependability  of  the  freezer. 

Built  into  each  General  Electric  Freezer  is  a  sealed 
refrigerating  mechanism — the  same  type  that  has  been 
used  so  satisfactorily  in  millions  of  dependable  G-E 
Refrigerators. 

Stop  in  at  your  G-E  dealer's;  see  these  handsome  new 
General  Electric  Food  Freezers.  General  Electric  Com- 
pany, Louisville  2,  Kentucky. 


New  G-E  14-cu-ft  upright  holds  490  lbs. 

Takes  less  than  .'J  x  .'}  ft  flo<jr  area  — fits  in  yi^ur  kitchen  like 
a  refrigerator.  Two  sliding  aluminum  shelves  .  .  .  big  re- 
movable Stor-well  baskets  for  added  convenience  .  .  .  and 
extra-roomy  Stor-well  for  bulky  packages.  Space  Maker 
door  shelves  with  frozen  juice  can  dispenser  .  .  .  three 
refrigerated  shelves  for  fast  freezing.  Trigger-action  latch 
with  built-in  lock.  Only  $5.36*  a  week. 


FOOD 
FREEZERS 


''After  down  payment.  See  your  dealer  for  details. 


New  G-E  n-cu-ft  Freezer  holds  389  lbs. 

A  roomy,  compact  freezer  that  takes  up  no  more  floor  space 
than  previous  G-E  8-cu-ft  models.  Three  removable  wire 
baskets  .  .  .  counter- balanced  lid  .  .  .  temperature-indica:ing 
light.  Quiet,  efficient,  economical.  Only  $4.67*  a  week. 

'    Dependable!  Has  same  sealed  refrigerating  system  as  the  G-E  Refrigerator! 


New  G-E  7-cu-ft  Freezer  holds  245  lbs. 

For  homes  and  apartments  with  small  kitchens — here's  k)ts 
of  storage  space.  Removable  baskets  .  .  .  temperature-indi- 
cating light  .  .  .  counter-balanced  lid  .  .  .  trigger-action  lock- 
ing latch  .  .  .  Fiberglas  insulation!  Only  $3.36*  a  week. 


GENERAL 


ELECTRIC 


164 


Hon  mxm  LIVES 


"Marshall  and  I  ivere  together  only  three  of  our  first  five  months 
of  married  life,'"  said  Arline  Irving.  "/  haven  t  had  much  chance 

to  try  my  hand  at  cooking  yet.  Vd  like  to  start  out 
by  learning  some  really  basic  dishes.'' 
Here's  the  Journal  s  plan  for  Arline — Learn  to  cook  in  five  meals! 


Beef-and- Lima- Bean  Stew 
Green  Salad  ivith  French  Dressing 
Mocha  Cream  Pie 


By  ARLINE  IRVING 


sliced  (about  H  cup),  1  eight-ounce  can  tomato 
sauce,  1  white  turnip,  cubed,  1  teaspoon  salt 
and  a  dash  of  pepper.  Wrap  a  few  sprigs  of 
parsley,  1  bay  leaf,  and  a  pinch  each  of  marjoram 
and  basil  in  a  piece  of  cheesecloth,  tie,  and 
drop  into  the  stew.  Cook  slowly  for  ll-z  hours, 
or  until  meat  is  tender.  Remove  cheesecloth 
bag.  Add  1  package  frozen  Lima  beans  which 
have  been  cooked  in  boiling  water  according  to 
the  directions  on  the  package.  Heat  together. 
Serves  two  generously. 

3ltn-ha  Cream  Pif:  Prepare  a  baked  8"  pastry 
shell  from  a  pastry  mix  according  to  the  direc- 
tions on  the  package.  Then  make  up  a  chocolate- 
pudding  mix  according  to  the  directions  on  the 
package  but  add  1'2  teaspoons  instant  coffee  to 
the  dry  mix.  Pour  the  pudding  into  the  baked 
shell.  Chill.  Serve  plain  or  with  whipped  cream 
and  a  sprinkle  of  cinnamon. 
Four  servings. 


Bftef-and-MAma-ltean  Stvwr:  Roll  1  pound  bone- 
less Stewing  beef,  cut  into  l^-i"  pieces,  in  about 
2  tablespoons  flour.  Brown  in  2  tablespoons 
bacon  fat  in  a  heavy  pan  or  Dutch-oven-type 
utensil.  Add  2  medium  onions,  sliced,  and  saute 
until  browned.  Add  \H  cups  water,  3  stalks 
celery,  sliced  (about  M  cup),  M  green  pepper, 


"1  feel  I  can  do  anything  ivhen  Marshall  is  arounc\wiix. 


Baked  Tomato,  Macaroni  and 
Cheese  Casserole 

Escarole-and-Romaine  Salad  icith 
Vinaigrette  Dressing 

Applesauce  and  Cookies 


Bakvit  Titm4ittt-3lafarnni-t'h»fiHf  Caaiterotf 

This  casserole,  besides  being  a  great  favori' 
of  Marshall's,  is  a  stand-by  for  dinners  at  tl 
end  of  the  month  when  the  budget  is  runnii 
low.  I'd  call  it  an  "essential  item"  in  a  cookii 
repertoire.  Cook  1  cup  macaroni  in  1  qua 
boding  salted  water,  following  timing  directioi 
on  package.  Drain.  In  a  small  saucepan,  melt 
tablespoons  butter  or  margarin 
Add  1  cup  canned  condenst 
tomato  soup,  1  small  onio  vl 
chopped,  a  sprinkle  '  f 
freshly  ground  peppe 
3^  teaspoon  sal 
and  1  small  clor 
garlic,  crushed.  Ac 
%  cup  grated  shai 
cheese.  Heat  unt 
cheese  melts.  Ac 
cooked  macaron 
Pour  into  greasi 
1-quart  casserol 
Place  2  sliol 


lin  e's  ail  "<•  vit  y  I  li i  ii^-oll  - 1  he- 
sliclf  rm-al  lor  luisy  davs,  wiili  all 
>ll|i|ili(-s  kr|il  (III  li.niil 
'f  w  ni  11  I  u  -  a  m  li  -  .ti  u  »  h  r  w  w  m 
lllMuif:  ImiI|iI)  roilli'lil'^  (il  I  ran 
•  '(iiiilciiM-d  liiiiialo  s(iii|i  and  I 
can  ciindriisrd  drain  (i(  iiiusli- 
room  soii|i  iiilo  a  Haiii'('|iaii. 
(irailiially  slit  in  2  *'ii|is  milk. 
Add  2  tal>lrs|ioons  ^ralrd  onion. 
I  Icaspoon  ^'arlir  sail  and  a  dasli  ol 
cayi'iinc.    Ileal  l!iorouj.;lilv. 
Idiir  sei  \  iii^s. 

Intllrltluiil  Sulinun  JIultiM:  I  )  1,1 1 II 

I  Wo  I  '  i-oiiiice  calls  or  a  I  |ioiiiiil  can 
red  salmon.  l{emo\c  liones  and  skin. 
(  There  sliould  lie  2  cups.)  Make 
and  mix  v\illi  2  ef^gs,  slif^lillv  liealen, 
Ial)les[)()(iiis  riielled  butter  or  marfjariiie,  '  i  cu(j 
liol  milk  and  /i  eup  cru.slied  corn  (lakes.  Season 
with  ' ■>  teaspoon  garlic  salt,  2  lalilespoons  grated 
onion  and  a  dash  of  jx-pper.  Mix  tliorougliK. 
i'aek  into  1  greased  (-iistard  cups.  Set  in  pan  ol 
hot  water.  Bake  in  moderately  hoi  oven,  37.5°  I' ., 
lor3()minutes.  Serve  with  cheese-pimientosauce. 
#'li<>(>M«>- f*/fn/<>n/o  Sniif':  Mell  2  lalilespoons 
Imller  or  margarine  in  a  saucepan.  Blend  in  2 
lalilespoons  flour,  a  dash  of  pepper  and  a  dash 
ol  Tabasco.  Pour  in  1'4  cups  milk  gradually, 
stirring  constantly  until  thickened.  Then  add 
cup  grated  Cheddar  cheese,  1  canned  pimiento. 
chojiped,  'j  clove  garlic,  crushed,  and  '2  lea- 
spoon  salt.  Heat  and  stir  until  cheese  is  melted. 


il  w.  "He  S(n's  ')  oil  cnii  do  it.  <iii<l  I  do.  somrluiir. 


^  cooked  bacon  across  top.  Bake  in  moderate 
oven — 350°F. —  30  minutes  or  until  bubbly. 
Serves  two. 

yinninrviit'  Itrt'itHina:  Blend  'i  cup  salad  oil 
with  2  tablespoons  V  inegar,  1  tablespoon  chopped 
pickle  relish,  1  tablespoon  minced  onion,  and 
salt  and  pepper  to  taste. 


Chiclicn- and -Vegetable  Casserole 
Tomato,  Hard-Coohed  Egg  and 
.4r()cad(i  Salad 
Fresh  Pearh-and-Orangc  (Jonipole 


Tomato-and-Mushroom  Bisque 
Salmon  Molds  icith  Cheese-Pimiento  Sauce 

Green  Beans  v 
Canned  Fruit  Compote  / 


Chlt'lifit-anU-  Vftn'lahlf  fntmirnlfi 

Season  3  tablespoons  flour  with  % 
teaspoon  salt,  H  teaspoon 
poultry  seasoning  and  black 
pepper.  Dredge  2  medium- 
size  chicken  breasts  in  the 
flour  and  brown  in  2 
tablespoons  shortening  or 
salad  oil.  Place  the 
breasts  in  a  1-quart  cas- 
serole. Add  remaining 
Hour  to  the  fat  in  the  pan, 
blend  together  and  add 
1  cup  canned  chicken 
broth.  Cook  until  thick- 
ened and  pour  over  chicken. 
Add  3  carrots,  sliced,  1 
small  (2-ounce)  can  whole 
mushrooms,  drained,  and  ^2 
pound  small  white  onions,  peeled. 
Cover;  bake  in  moderate  oven,  3.50°  F., 
P  2  hours  until  chicken  and  vegetables  are  tender. 
Tama/n,  nartl-Vnolifd  K»a  find  Arofad4t 
Salad:  Hard-cook  1  egg;  cool,  peel  and  chop.  Cut  1 
tomato  into  8  wedges  and  '2  peeled  avocado 
into  thin  slices.  Toss  together  with  3  cups  torn 
salad  greens  and  3  tablespoons  French  dressing. 


HoasI  Land)  (Aazi'd  uil/i  (.urraiil  .Idly 
Roast  Potatoes 
Fresh  Rait  -Vegelahle  Salad  uith 
Sour  Cream  French  Dressing 

Graham-Cracker-Nut  Cake 


J 


) 


Itaanl  l.amh  —  1'urranl  —Ivlln  Uluzv:  Place  a 
()-[)ouiid  leg  of  lam!)  lat  side  up  on  a  rack  in  a 
shallovs  open  pan.  Cut  1  clove  garlic  into  slivers. 
Make  3  or  4  slits  in  the  lamb  ami  iusert  the 
slivers  of  garlic  in  the  slits.  Sprinkle  wiili  1  lea- 
spoon  salt  and  a  dash  of  pepper.  Insert  a  meat 
thermometer  into  the  center  of  roast  if  you  have 
one.  If  not.  allow  3  hours  roasting  for  medium- 
done  lamb  and  3)2  hours  for  wejUdone  lamb. 
Roast  in  a  moderately  slow  oven,  325''  F.  About 
1  hour  before  roast  is  done,  place  peeled  medium- 
sized  potatoes  in  (Conlinued  oti  Page  190) 


DONALD  STUART 


166 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


Way,  I*) 


Tbfflott 


FELS-NAPTHA 

is  the  clean-smelling,  golden 
bargain  that  outwashes  any 
other  soap  or  any  detergent 
. . .  anc/  costs  or? A/ pennies/ 


Good,  honest  soap — no  synthetics! 
Natural  golden  color — no  dyes!  Clean 
naptha  odor — no  perfumes! 

These  all  add  up  to  the  bargain 
Fels-Naptha  gives  you  .  .  in  extra 
washing  help,  in  longer  hfe  for  your 
clothes  and  in  saving  your  "soap" 
money,  too. 

And  remember!  Nothing  in  this 


wide  world  beats  golden  soap  and 
active  naptha — working  together — in 
getting  your  clothes  deep-down,  fra- 
grantly clean — no  matter  how  badly 
they're  soiled. 

Being  a  natural  soap,  Fels-Naptha 
is  naturally  kinder  to  your  clothes, 
your  hands  and  your  pocketbook. 
Try  it  and  see. 

Also  available  in  Golden  Chips 


So  gentle  to  clothes! 
So  kind  to  hands! 


OUR  FIRST  YEAR 

(Continued  from  Page  154) 


IVOW       El¥  BETTEH 


the  next  morning,  the  moment  Arline  crossed 
the  path  of  his  constant  rival  on  the  side- 
walk. "He  had  those  white  bucks  on,  and 
that  knit  tie  and  those  horn-rimmed  glasses, 
and  that  'Hiyah!'"  Arline  shudders.  "I  just 
looked  at  him  and  I  thought,  'What  did  I 
ever  see  in  you?'  Then  I  knew  I  loved 
Marshall." 

In  Marshall,  Arline  saw  an  intent,  quiet 
and  practical  companion,  two  years  older 
than  herself,  who  wouldn't  let  his  consecra- 
tion to  science  shake  their  relationship,  ex- 
cept to  remark,  when  she  burned  a  cake, 
"H'm-m-m — looks  like  a  truncated  cylin- 
der." Confident,  even  stubborn,  but  not 
cocksure,  Marshall  sometimes  showed  astute 
humor,  but  occasionally  a  transparent 
naivete  even  more  refreshing  to  Arline. 

Innately,  Marshall  knew  why  the  stress  on 
a  longitudinal  seam  of  a  boiler  drum  is  twice 
the  stress  on  its  circumferential  seam;  how  he 
arrived  at  this  talent  from  birth  in  a  log 
farmhouse  in  Maryland  is  simply  shown.  His 
father  owned  sixty  acres  in  Waterbury, 
enough  alfalfa,  com  and  wheat  to  maintain 
fourteen  Guernseys,  a  team  of  horses  and 
four  or  five  dozen  chickens.  As  a  farm  boy, 
Marshall  obediently  kept  the  wood  box  full, 
shelled  corn  at  harvest,  cared  for  his  own  cow 
and  sold  neighbors  her  milk,  and  kept  all  the 
electric  fencing  clear  of  pasture  shrubs.  But 
even  then,  his  mind  reached  for  the  kind  of 
liberation  which  he  found  in  Belt  Drive  I. 

Belt  Drive  I, 
later  rechristened 
Chain  Drive  I, 
Chain  Drive  H  and 
Chain  Drive  III, 
Was  a  vehicle  fash- 
ioned from  parts  of 
a  mahogany  up- 
right piano,  as- 
sorted bicycle  and 
wagon  wheels  and 
a  washing-machine 
motor.  "It  wasn't 
geared  correctly," 
Marshall  apolo- 
gizes, "but  it  could  take  me  the  half  mile 
down  Gumbottom  Road  to  get  the  mail  in 
fifteen  minutes." 

When  Pearl  Harbor  came,  Marshall's 
family  moved  to  Baltimore.  Marshall's  fa- 
ther became  concerned  over  gasoline  ration- 
ing, and  his  stepmother  preferred  the  city 
and  proximity  to  her  relatives.  (Marshall's 
mother  died  when  he  was  eight;  his  family 
now  includes  a  married  half  brother  by  his 
mother's  previous  marriage,  and  a  nine-year- 
old  half  sister  by  his  father's  second  mar- 
riage.) Marshall  enrolled  in  the  Baltimore 
Polytechnic  Institute,  and  began  living  in  a 
boiler  drum. 

JMarshall's  stability  chiefly  attracted  Ar- 
line, though  she  put  it  differently:  "He  re- 
minds me  of  a  solid  sort  of  bear,  but  a  cute 
one."  Their  engagement  was  just  a  matter  of 
time.  When  he  couldn't  see  her,  Arline  sat  up 
till  midnight,  waiting  for  the  phone's  ring, 
"not  daring  to  take  my  shower."  When  de- 
tection of  his  1937  Packard  convertible 
coupe,  which  Marshall  failed  to  transfer  to 
Arline's  name  in  time,  brought  six  weeks' 
confinement  to  the  academy,  Arline  smug- 
gled a  duffel  bag  full  of  beer  into  his  broadcast 
chamber.  There  he  could  muse  over  the  first 
Saturday  night  of  1951,  when  he  had  stopped 
the  car  in  Cunningham  Park,  and  heard  her 
agree  to  marriage. 

He  still  had  to  woo  her  family,  which  was 
skeptical  of  Arline's  chances  with  a  sailor. 
But  he  had  one  booster.  Grandpa  Olie  Peter- 
sen, on  Arline's  mother's  side,  who  ran  away 
from  Bergen  as  a  schoolboy,  came  to  master 
a  windjammer  and  now,  in  his  silver  years, 
advised  Marshall  how  he  used  to  catch  alba- 
trosses on  baited  rafts,  and  Arline's  family 
how  to  catch  Marshall  with  Arline.  In  time, 
Pommie  recognized  Arline's  new  devotion, 
and  welcomed  Marshall.  So  did  Aunt  Dot 
and  Uncle  Harry  Klages,  Arline's  mother's 
sister  and  brother-in-law,  who  moved  in  and 
cheered  Pommie's  household  at  his  wife's 


death  two  years  ago.  Marshall  fetched  1 
mother's  legacy,  a  square-cut  diamond  so 
taire  ring— "970  thousandths  of  a  carat," 
calls  it,  with  characteristic  precision— and  > 
an  April  Saturday  night  perched  it  conspic 
ously  in  a  case  on  Arline's  living-room  des 
"Whereupon  I  told  her  it  wasn't  Easter  y( 
whereupon  she  could  only  look  at  the  b 
until  midnight."  He  had  her  well  trained. 

Upon  graduation  in  June,  1951,  Marsh 
rejected  duty  on  the  superliner  America,  pi 
ferring  to  stand  alone  in  charge,  during  ! 
tour,  of  the  small  engine  room  of  a  435-fo( 
50(X)-ton  C-2  freighter  which  fits  ten  days 
"  coastwise  "  from  Boston  to  Norfolk  betwe 
month-long  voyages  to  Europe.  He  ma 
$6400  working  ten  months  of  the  year  befc  ; 
his  marriage,  drawing  $386-a-month  b; 
pay,  boosted  by  overtime  and  bonuses  : 
entering  foreign  waters  still  mined  frc 
World  War  II. 

bad  for  twenty-three,  especially  if  1 
bride-to-be  was  pretty  enough  to  earn  $25 
a  year  modeling.  In  September,  1948,  Arli 
modeled  Sophie  originals  at  Saks  Fifth  A> 
nue  for  a  month;  then  until  the  foUowi 
September,  she  showed  off  Henri  Bendt 
furs.  For  the  next  nine  months,  she  model 
on  Elizabeth  Arden's  fashion  floor.  Except 
off  season,  she  was  head  model  at  Bon\  . 
Teller's  custom  salon  from  June,  1950,  ur 
May,  1952,  earning  $60  a  week.  Her  salt 

jumped  to  $75 wh  ^ 
she  styled  cockt 
clothes  for  a  mor 
at  Terry  Allen,  In 
"downtown"  in  t 
wholesale  garme 
district. 

A  month  beft 
their  weddin 
Marshall  signed 
two-year  lease  w* 
the  New  York  L 
Insurance  Co:' 
pany  for  a  3,' 
room  suite  in 
Fresh  Meadows  development  in  Flushif 
just  west  of  Cunningham  Park  in  a  nor 
eastern  district  of  Queens.  The  170-a( 
project,  built  six  years  ago  on  what  It 
been  a  rolling,  wooded  golf  course,  was  1 
manely  conceived.  Children  may  romp 
almost  all  the  project  grass.  With  cent  J 
garages,  the  hazard  countless  drivewj 
would  present  to  children  was  removed.  W 
apartments  of  graduated  size,  the  design 
hoped  that  newlyweds  would  take  lar; 
quarters  when  their  family  grew,  and  mcp 
back  into  small  ones  as  their  children  stri  b 
out  into  the  world.  The  project  now  hoi#iace( 
3000  families,  many  headed  by  salesmen,  H 
countants,  advertising  men,  lawyers  altjwi 
engineers— in  that  order  of  incidence— eaj- 
ing,  on  the  average,  $7500  a  year.  One  wife i 
ten  is  employed ;  eight  families  in  ten  owi  !i 
television  set ;  and  nine  in  ten,  a  car.  Most 
the  community,  Marshall  found,  lived  i 
two-  and  three-story  garden  apartm(|; 
houses,  fronted  by  ornamental  cherry  tre  ,  f- 
lilacs  and  beeches,  but  he  decided  to  join  t ; 
600  families  occupying  a  central  pair  of  ■ 
story  brick  self-service-elevator  buildin  . 
double-cruciform  in  plan. 

Marshall's  eleventh-floor  apartment,  re  • 
ing  for  $87  a  month,  utilities  covered,  v  ■• 
shaped  like  a  w,  the  foyer  serving  on  liv  ' 
room,  modemly  equipped  kitchen  and  h  -i 
room.  Another  $10  would  keep  their  Packrii  irt 
in  the  basement  garage  next  door.  Arl  '  r' 
would  do  all  the  laundry,  except  Marsha  ; 
shirts,  in  the  automatic  washers  downsta 
and  nearly  all  her  shopping  in  the  si 
project  stores. 

They  started  feathering  the  apartment  i 
mediately. 

During  this  month,  Arline  got  an  inkl  g  jj'  ' 
how  handy  her  man  would  be.  While  build  J  hi 
a  high-fidelity  sound  system  in  a  living-ro  : 
corner,  he  turned  to  her,  suggesting,  ""V 
know  that  credenza-type  bookcase  I'm  m 
ing;  maybe  I'll  upholster  it  in  leathert  ^ 
with  brass  heads  coming  through— tufted 


:iite-a 


III 


'  I  le  had  already  upliolslered  the  car, 
(I  its  engine,  made  a  new  lop  and 
I  llic  body.  Till'  eve  of  liis  wcddiiin, 
ill  stayed  up  iJasl  iliidiiinlit,  jjroudly 
I!'  a  jileain  on  its  canary  linisli. 

wi'ddinn  was  naliiral  intimale. 
indri'd  friends,  most  ol  llu  ni  of  Ar- 
iinily,  were  lliere.  Four  classinati  s,  all 
II',  whiles,  served  as  Marsiiail's  iisiiers, 

•  wore  a  f^ll-len^;th  wiiite  organdy  kovv  ii, 
scalloped  lace  al  the  heni,  a  model's 
e  she  spotted  al  Hl(K)niinndale's  for 
!t;2.^).  Her  In-st  fiiend  and  altendaiil, 
I'  Hrendei.  helped  her  dress  in  her  little 
oni.  Marue  adjusted  Marshall's  wi'd- 
)resenl ,  a  i)earl  ciioker,  about  tiie  bride's 
and  Arline  suddenly  exclaimed.  "Just 
!  This  will  i)e  the  last  time  I'll  be  in  tins 
as  an  unmarried  woman  ! "  Siie  grabbed 
eddy  bear,  assurint;  it,  "Oil,  I'm  i;oinK 
ss  yon."  Siie  set  tlu'  Ix-ar  in  Ihe  middle 

•  bedspri'ad.  and  Mar.ue,  amused  and 
red,  said  liiey  ou^'hl  to  hurry. 

Ihe  churcii  vestibule,  .Arline's  last 
:ht  before  lowering  Iut  veil  was  lo  lix 
hite  carnation  in  I'ommie's  lapel.  The 
s  were  ready 


I'l  noose-step. 
'  one  advised 
her,  as  I  hey 
dinlolhenave. 
e  gazed  down 
ton^  mniie,  her  eyes 
inii.  "Very 
y,"  she  whis- 

clit 


d  afterward, 
le  cxuberanl 
plion  al  I  he 
Ihside,  a  small 
niii  inn  a  dozen 
s  from  Ihe 
ch,  Arline's 
r  girl,  Karen 
.er,  kept  won- 
g  as  a  seven- 
old  will,  "I 
know  how  a 
voman  can  be 
ervous  and  a 
ixA  girl  like  me  nol 
)us.  Thai's  one 
;  I  wanled  lo 
'  for  so  many 


ai 


line  and  Mar- 
honeymooned 
irst  of  their  two 
s  in  a  breezy 


How  I  ho  li  viiij;s 

Spoiul  riK'ir  iMoiM'v 

luu-li  iMoiilh 

Itt'iil  (iiif'liKlin;:  iilililic-K)  . 

•S  1(7 

INIilk  aiul  liiil  Id-  

12 

Oilier  fi''<><'<'''i<'s  

10 

l.iiiK'li^fs.     <'iirrai«-,  union 

<lii<-s,  iHT.sonal  <'X|>on.s<-s— 

in iscfllanriMis  f'liiiil   .    .  . 

120 

( lliiircli  anil  i  liaril  >  .    .    .  . 

it 

20 

(iarajic  icnl  

10 

Viilo  inainlcnani'i-  

.{0 

12 

I.ifi'  insiiranrf  

10 

Ii<is|>ilali/.al  ion  insurance  , 

7 

20 

20 

Maf;a/,ines  anil  iii'\\s|>a|>i'rs 

1 

Triisl  and  ^avin^.s  riinil    .  . 

KM) 

120 

Tola! 

.%20 

Combined  nionllily  ineonie: 

.•?().>0 

INole:  <>hanf;«*  i>f  ji>l>s  m  ill  l«wi 

r  Ir- 

viiigs'  inronie;  1  h«y  art-  now  ili-i-iiliii^ 

where  ti»  eut  iliiwn. 

I  f.7 

cabinet  mirror.  He  taught  hi  r  lo  keep  ac- 
counts "Merely  by  writing  down  what  you 
spend,  you  save"  and  she  bulled  some  of 
his  formal  edges.  Mut  once,  when  he  got  Iik) 
casual,  iheir  harmony  iH'caiiK!  cacophony. 

It  happened  August  1,  the  eve  of  their  llrsl 
separation,  through  a  "coastwise"  lo  Nor- 
folk. "That  day  was  a  lulu,"  Arline  sighs. 
"The  alarm  didn't  go  off,  ;iikI  Marshall  gol 
off  late  lo  re|M)rl,  and  then  I  ironed  live  of  his 
shirts,  and  I  was  so  sleepy  I  slammed  my 
linger  in  Ihe  door  and  I  iiil  my  head  on  Ihe 
basin.  I  had  to  p;ick  lor  him,  aiifi  then  I  was 
going  to  be  real  good  to  Marshall,  so  I  made 
chicken  fricassee  for  rlinner,  and  a  lovely 
salad,  and  tiien  it  gol  lo  be  seven  o'ckick, 
and  later,  and  no  Marshall.  I  i)egan  to  tear 
my  hair  out    'My  gosh,  where  is  he?' 

"  I'^inally  he  walked  in,  so-o-o  nonchalantly, 
and  said, '  I  already  ale  on  the  ship.  I  low  can 
I  eat?'  That  was  the  pay-off.  I  got  hirious 
'Wiial  alKHil  me?'  and  I  was  starving,  but 
I  was  delermiiufl  I  wasn't  going  to  cat,  so  1 
lk)pped  everylhing  back  in  the  refrigerator. 
He  got  very  <iuiet,  and  I  really  blew.  I 
marched  into  the  bedroom,  slammed  all  the 
doors  and  walked  around  and  around.  My 
|)oor  Teddy  bears 


n|?e  apartment  behind  the  Mary  Ann  Inn, 
2hobolh  Beach, Delaware. "The proprie- 
:ot  out  her  loudest  voice  and  asked  us  if 
been  on  a  honeymoon  before,"  Marshall 
aced,  "and  there  were  doting  smiles  all 
the  dining  room."  The  newlyweds 
ned  their  embarrassment  in  the  Atlantic, 
planing,  crabbing,  lunching  on  bacon- 
[[I  ce-and-lomalo  sandwiches  in  a  rented 
iijlDal,  pedaling  a  tandem  bike  along  the 
J  each  of  the  shore  road  until  the  sun 
j  ped  behind  the  dunes,  gilding  the  salt 
!  briefly,  and  their  exaggerated  shadows 
(iled  in  the  dusk.  When  stars  began  prick- 
tl  he  sky,  they  were  on  the  beach  again. 

e  time,"  Arline  said,  "it  was  such  a 
1^  tiful  night,  and  all  of  a  sudden  this  awful 
storm  blew  up,  and  we  just  about  made 
ck  lo  the  car.  I  had  bumps  all  over  me 
lays." 

ley  divided  their  second  week  in  Mary- 
belween  his  uncle's  small  tobacco  farm 

aterbury,  his  father's  home  in  Baltimore 
his  half  brother's  place  in  Riverdale, 
ji  -e  Arline  caught  three  toadfish  the  first 
she  ever  went  fishing.  From  Riverdale, 
drove  through  Washington  to  see  the 

ts,  and  then  returned  lo  New  York,  and 

esticity. 

hey  had  the  usual  adjustments  to  make, 
j^iie  liked  her  meat  "red  and  juicy."  Mar- 
wanted  everything  well  done:  "If  you 
i  my  bacon  one  inch  onto  a  piece  of  cot- 
it  should  shatter  into  dust."  Marshall 
d  Arline  cut  into  the  tooth-paste  tube 
her  nails,  "so  if  you  squeeze  it,  it  ex- 
es in  your  hand!"  He  disciplined  her  by 
Almg  reminders  in  tooth  paste  on  the 


I  nearly  riijjied  thein 
to  shreds.  1  le  didn't 
even  come  near 
me  ■  Thai's  a  g(K)d 
one !  He  doesn  'I  even 
care!  Why  did  I  ever 
marry  him?'  I  came 
marching  into  liie 
kitchen  again,  and 
he  said  did  I  feel 
belter?  and  I  said, 
"Shut  up,  you,  I've 
had  enough ! '  and  I 
marched  out  again. 

"But  we  were 
having  this  friend 
over  that  night,  and 
we  couldn't  greet 
the  man  with  long 
faces,  still  on  our 
honeymoon,  so  I  was 
trying  lo  be  really 
ha-ha,  and  then  lit- 
tle things  came  up, 
and  after  he  left,  we 
both  sal  on  the  floor 
and  laughed." 

Marshall  more 
than  atoned  for  his 
indiscretion.  On  this 
second  trip  abroad, 
leaving  in  late  Sep- 
tember, he  carried  back  an  ounce  of  Arpege 
perfume  from  Cherbourg,  as  well  as  a  black- 
and-scarlel  mantilla  and  a  silver-and-por- 
celain  elephant  clip  from  Bilbao.  The  trip 
ended  October  29;  the  following  night,  Arline 
jubilantly  sported  the  clip  at  the  Eisenhower 
pre-election  rally  in  Madison  Square  Garden. 
From  November  6  to  December  8,  he  was 
again  abroad,  this  lime  returning  with  Uvo 
berets— tan  and  powder  blue— from  London, 
and  an  ounce  of  Dana  perfume. 

^Marshall  anticipates  that,  aside  from  a 
leave  or  vacation,  he  will  gel  only  about  ten 
full  days  a  year  at  home.  His  ship's  layover 
in  New  York  varies  from  twelve  hours  to 
twelve  days—"  it's  potluck  "—but  except  for 
week  ends  and  holidays,  he  leaves  home  al 
7  A.M.  to  report  aboard  and  returns  at  7  p.m. 
"Whenever  I  gel  back  from  Europe,"  Mar- 
shall remarked,  "we  make  a  point  of  getting 
a  big  feed  at  a  steak  house."  Then  they  go 
dancing  al  the  115  Club.  Riviera  or  Swan 
Club  in  nearby  Long  Island,  "the  slow, 
dreamy  kind,"  Arline  insists,  without  letting 
the  $15  or  $20  tab  tinge  their  happiness.  On 
less  ambitious  sprees,  they  drop  in  at  the 
million-dollar  project  movie  house  three 
minutes  from  their  door  to  watch  Bob  Hope 
or  John  Wayne,  or  drive  to  Manhattan's 
upper  East  Side  for  a  foreign  film.  With  his 
schedule,  they  can  no  longer  plan  ahead  for 
theater  tickets — while  engaged,  they  saw 
four  or  five  musicals — but  they  love  Lucy  on 
television — Tallulah,  too,  and  Jack  Benny — 
in  the  quiet  of  their  home. 

But  when  Marshall  is  gone,  her  happiness, 
as  Grandpa  Pommie  had  feared,  w-ears  almost 


You  just  can't  ky  thriftier  sheets  in  color 


Glamor  ihut  pampers  your  budget!  Lady  Pepperells  in  color  are  so 
exquisite,  so  flattering,  yet  with  all  their  extra  glamor,  they  cost  only  pennies 
more  than  Lady  Pepperell  white  sheets! 

Luxurious  colors  in  SNUG  FIT*  Sheets,  too!  Lady  Pepperell  fitted 
sheets  give  you  the  sweetest  sleeping  ever,  cut  bed-making  time  to  a  minimum. 
They're  made  with  extra-strong  corners  fitted  lo  hug  your  mattress  top  and 
bottom,  stay  bedtime  smooth  all  through  the  night! 

For  a  tniflsuntiner's  night — Pepperell's  Cool  Breeze®  Blanket.  It's  just 
warm  enough  to  take  the  chill  off  a  cool  summer  night,  light  as  a  butterfly 
wing.  In  lovely  Pepperell  colors  to  mix  or  match  to  your  Lady  Pepperell  Sheets. 

I.istfn  to  the  Coronation  on  your  ABC  station  —  brought  to  you  hy  Pepperell! 

•TRADE-M.^RK  — PEPPERELL  MANl'FACTL-RTNG  COMPWY.  BOSTON,  MASS. 

MBY  PEPPERELL 

Sheets  and  Blankets 


168 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


WHAT 
NONSENSE ! 


In  two  sizes:  $1.50  and  $2.75. 

ALL    PRICES    PLUS  TAX 
EXCEPT  VITAMINS 


"Face  creams,  throat 
creams,  nose  creams,  eye 
creams,  chin  creams — 
who  do  you  think  you're 
fooling?"  says  Ann  Delafield.  "It's  all 
skin,  isn't  it?  There's  everything  your 
skin  needs  to  keep  its  natural  beauty 
in  my  All-Purpose  Deep  Cream  .  .  . 
richly  penetrating,  thoroughly  cleans- 
ing, naturally  beautifying." 

Ann  Delafield's  Eye  Kit  has  all  you 
need  for  glamdrous  eyes.  Ann  Dela- 
field's Lipstick  is  long-lasting,  indelible. 
Ann  Delafield's  Po^wder  has  the  foun- 
dation built  right  in.  And  this  is  the 
only  vitamin-centered  beauty  line — 
because  Ann  Delafield  knows  that 
beauty  begins  within! 

Go  to  your  Rexall  store  TODAY. 
Start  looking  lovelier  tomorrow. 


A  busy  woman's  cosmetics:  French- 
formula  I'owder  SI. 50 — Indehble  Lip- 
stick 81.2.5 — Skin  Freshener  SI. 50 — 
Cologne  S2.50 — Eye  Compact .  .  .  Quik- 
On  mascara,  shadow,  eyebrow  pencil, 
liner  .  .  .  Party  $5.00,  Purse,  $2.00. 


"Beauty  begins  with  vitamins,"  says  Ann 
Delafield.  One  month's  supply.  $2.95. 

vQm/  oJli  REXALL  (huA^  t^ym 


away.  Once,  late  in  November,  she  artlessly 
told  her  anxiety: 

"When  he  goes,  for  a  while  I  have  incen- 
tive—' Marshall  would  like  this  and  Marshall 
would  like  that'— but  then  this  apartment 
gets  like  a  tomb.  You  get  that  feeling— 
there's  no  sense  to  get  up,  to  cook  this  for 
him,  shine  that  for  him,  to  keep  you  going. 
He'll  be  home  again,  you  think,  but  till  then, 
what? 

"I  start  writing  him  the  day  he  leaves, 
every  night.  That  takes  me  about  an  hour 
and  a  half.  I  have  the  addresses  where  I  can' 
air-mail  the  letters.  You  feel  sort  of  badly 
then,  sometimes  the  night  would  get  lonely— 
that  big  bed.  On  week  ends,  you  see  all  these 
other  couples  in  the  movies  together,  and 
when  I  go  home  at  night  from  modeling,  I 
look  at  the  men  in  the  subway  and  see  they're 
going  home  to  their  wives.  .  .  . 

"You  miss  a  lot,  just  little  attentions  you 
expect— people  holding  doors  open  for  me  . . . 
like  I  met  this  fellow  on  the  bus  whom  I 
know,  and  we  were  just  going  down  the 
steps,  and  he  put  his  arm  around  me  casually 
to  help  me  (jff  and  it  was  so  nice,  to  act  as  if  I 
was  really  a  woman.  I  thought,  'Gee,  it's 
nice.'  ...  It  was  so  silly! 

"And  after  he's  gone  for  a  while,  I  go 
through  his  closet,  look  at  his  shoes  and  his 
clothes  hanging  there,  and  then  look  at  the 
pictures.  The  little  pictures— I  like  the  wed- 
ding pictures,  the  one  in  the  hall  just  after  we 
got  married.  I  have  to  look  at  them— you  re- 
ally forget  what  he  looks  like.  You  feel  like 
strangers— one  day  he's  there  in  the  door, 
and  he's  your  husband.  You  feel  queer  for  a 
couple  of  seconds.  Then  he  just  says,  "Hi, 
princess,  I'm  home.' 

"  It  takes  a  while  to  get  used  to  each  other. 
We  always  argue— I  guess  it's  because  he's  so 
used  to  going  his  way  and  I'm  so  used  to 
mine.  We  argue  about  the  car  and  the  money 
and  do  this  and  that,  I  don't  know  why.  We 
get  so  independent,  and  that's  where  we  have 
to  start  thinking  of  each  other  again.  Then  he 
has  to  leave  again,  and  I  drive  him  over  to 
the  North  River,  Pier  59,  or  to  the  Brooklyn 
Army  Base,  or  Hoboken,  and  he  says,  'I 
know  you  can  do  it.  Get  home  safely,  dear.' 
He  sort  of  looks  at  you.  He  always  looks  so 
intent  and  so  serious.  He's  good  for  me.  I'm 
always  fluttering  along  on  a  cloud  somewhere. 
Marshall  has  great  faith  in  me.  I  feel  I  can  do 

anything  when  he's  around.  I  really  He 

says,  'You  can  do  it,'  and  I  do,  somehow." 

Arline's  family  recognize  her  letdowns. 
Living  only  a  block  from  the  western  edge  of 
Fresh  Meadows,  they  invite  her  to  dinner 
Tuesday  and  Saturday  evenings,  and  for  a 
drive  to  visit  friends  in  Long  Island  or  West- 
chester County  on  week  ends.  Aunt  Dot 
often  prepares  and  presses  jars  of  beef  soup, 
stew  puddings  or  applesauce  on  Arline  when 
she  returns  home.  Thursday  evenings,  Arline 
shops  in  Manhattan  with  another  model, 
Sally  Shanahan.  Another  time,  she  may  take 
Marge  Brendel  or  Ruth  Groh  to  the  Fresh 
Meadows  Inn  for  supper  and  the  movies 
afterward.  The  only  man  she  has  entertained 
since  marriage  is  a  second  lieutenant  sta- 
tioned at  Fort  Monmouth,  New  Jersey,  who 
once  dropped  in  to  dinner.  "That's  all  right 
by  me,"  Marshall  smiles.  "Calvin's  not  only 
my  old  buddy— he's  an  electrical  engineer." 

Arline  worked  six  weeks  the  fall  of  her 
marriage,  beginning  September  4,  modeling 
velvet  peignoirs  and  the  rest  of  Perfect 
Negligee  Company's  winter  line  at  $75  a 
week.  On  January  5,  she  returned  to  show 
this  wholesaler's  spring  collection — shantung 
lounging  pajamas  and  nylon  hostess  gowns — 
for  another  six  weeks,  roughly  to  coincide 
with  Marshall's  eight-week  interruption  of 
his  career  to  attend  a  reserve  training  school 
in  Jersey  City.  Commissioned  an  ensign  in 
the  Naval  Reserve  upon  graduation,  Mar- 
shall took  the  course  as  a  springboard  to 
a  It.  j.g.  rating  in  the  reserve  next  year.  He 
commuted  five  days  a  week;  his  take-home 
pay,  for  each  of  the  two  months,  was  $320. 

Arline  quit  modeling  from  October  15  until 
the  new  year,  however,  because  she  found  her 
job  overtired  her  during  Marshall's  recesses 
from  the  sea  and  made  their  brief  companion- 
ship too  hectic.  "Nothing  seemed  funny  any 
more  until  I  stopped,"  she  said,  "and  then  it 


made  all  the  difference."  Durmg  Marshall's 
next  voyage,  she  tried  a  new  discipline — 
instead  of  seeking  short  cuts,  she  would 
create  housework.  "  I  used  to  do  things  piece- 
meal; now  I'd  plan  certain  things  to  keep  me 
busy  certain  days,  like  shining  all  the  silver 
one  day  and  waxing  all  the  furniture  an- 
other." The  apartment  glistened. 

Marshall  makes  equally  judicious  use  of 
his  days  in  foreign  ports.  Each  trip,  he  draws 
$100— all  the  ship  allows  him— against  his 
pay,  not  to  slap  grandly  on  a  pub  counter, 
but  to  dole  out  shrewdly  in  a  variety  of  an- 
tique shops.  "  I  try  not  to  put  my  money  in 
any  one  thing,"  he  explained.  "  I'll  spread  it 
between,  say,  old  mercurial  barometers. 
Sandwich-glass  paperweights  and  miniature 
paintings  on  ivory.  For  instance,  last  trip,  I 
stopped  at  a  little  junk  shop  in  East  Ham,  in 
London.  The  man  was  just  putting  a  piece  of 
emerald  cut  glass  overlaid  with  porcelain  in 
his  wi  dow.  I  took  it  for  $11.20— otherwise, 
it  would  have  wound  up  in  the  West  End  of 
London  for  four  times  that.  It  had  ten  prisms 


Next  Month 

Apartment  to  let: 

No  children,  no  pets. 

How  do  you  solve  that? 

New  parents  Jacque  and  Gene 
Biegenwald  had  to  move  into  a 
trailer,  put  their  baby  in  a  basket, 
and  build  a  house  on  the  beach  to 
live  in.  Turned  out  to  be  fascinat- 
ing, so  they  built  another.  Still  in 
the  swing  of  it,  they're  building 
a  48'  ranch  house  on  a  new  75'  x 
150'  lot  in  Monroe,  Louisiana — all 
on  nights,  week  ends  and  Gene's 
moderate  pay  check. 

P.S.  It's  a  home  designed  for  2 
babies,  a  new  one  on  the  way,  a 
pet  dog — and  a  young-married  pair 
with  a  rare  sense  of  partnership. 
You'll  enjoy  it  all  

WITH  LOVE- 
AND  LUMBER 

By  Betty  Hannah  Hoffman 

HOW  YOUNG  AMERICA  LIVES 
in  the  June  Journal 


and  ten  pendant  drops,  so  John  Ivan  resold  it 
to  a  dealer  who  needed  prisms  to  match  a 
chandelier." 

John  Ivan,  master-at-arms  at  the  Mer- 
chant Marine  Academy's  gate,  usually  dis- 
poses of  Marshall's  selections  at  100  per  cent 
profit.  "The  smile  on  John  Ivan  gets  bigger 
and  bigger,"  Arline  winked.  So  does  Mar- 
shall's wallet,  by  $50  each  trip,  for  his  com- 
mission is  half,  and  this,  incidentally,  is  the 
Irvings'  only  original  income  besides  their 
salaries. 

Of  their  income,  Marshall  plans  to  put 
$500  a  year  into  a  savings  account,  and  $1000 
into  a  special  trust.  The  trust  cost  half  of  the 
first  year's  premiums  to  establish,  but  yield- 
ing 6  per  cent  compounded  semiannually, 
will  triple  itself  in  ten  years,  "just  keeping  us 
ahead  ot  inflation,"  Marshall  hopes. 

Their  budget  is  still  experimental,  and 
fluctuates  with  his  absences.  With  Arline 
often  out  to  dinner,  a  week's  grocery  bill  may 
dip  to  $5.  In  the  first  five  months  of  marriage, 
Arline  bought  two  woolen  day  dresses  for 
$50  and  three  pairs  of  shoes  for  $40;  Marshall 
needed  nothing.  A  phone  costs  them  nothing, 
for  they  are  still  waiting  for  its  installation. 
Subscriptions  to  fashion,  science-fiction  mag- 
azines and  The  New  York  Times—"  It  has  a 
good  shipping  page,"  Arline  notes— will  cost 
$50  a  year;  her  carfare,  perhaps  $100.  He 
contributes  $50  to  the  Society  of  Friends,  and 
she  $25  to  her  church.  His  annual  union  dues 
are  $48.  Their  car,  which  has  cost  $1700  to 
run  30,000  miles  in  three  years,  is  insured  for 
liability  and  property  damage.  Arline  carries 


May,  li 

Blue  Cross  with  maternity  benefits, 
Marshall's  life  is  insured  for  $5000. 

Rearing  a  family  would  cram  Arlin 
lonely  days,  but  she  and  Marshall  both  f 
like  giving  their  first  year  to  each  other,  i 
line  wants  three  children  before  she's  thir 
Marshall  nods  in  vague  agreement.  T 
prospective  parents  disagree  on  only  c 
point:  in  what  faith  the  children  will 
raised. 

Arline,  Lutheran  by  heritage,  says,  "Th 
are  going  to  my  Sunday  school,  and  any  tii 
they  can  be  excused,  well,  then  they  can 
to  your  meetings." 

IW  ARSHALL,  who  became  a  Quaker  only  af 
studying  Catholicism,  the  Jewish  faith  am 
number  of  Protestant  denominations: 
fleets,  "I'll  agree  to  that.  They  should  ha! 
their  choice,  and  being  sensible  childrd 
they'll  choose  Quakerism." 

"He  won't  change,  and  I  won't  change 
Arline  explains,  "so  we  alternate— he's  ht] 
to  my  church  with  me  four  times  since  I 
known  him,  and  I've  gone  four  times  to  t 
Flushing  Meeting."  (Home  for  his  reser 
training  course,  Marshall  attended  meetir 
four  Sundays  out  of  five  alone,  and  when 
was  away  this  fall,  Arline  went  to  chur 
every  other  Sabbath.)  "Quakerism's  fine 
Marshall  enjoys  it,"  she  concedes.  "  I  just ; 
there  in  silence,  waiting  for  the  inner  spii 
to  come  and  move  me,  but  it  doesn't,  ai 
nobody  says  anything  except  about  poet 
and  the  evils  of  tobacco  and  drink  and  stai 
ing  wars.  I  like  church  with  singing,  wi 
liturgy — I'm  just  so  used  to  it." 

"Your  church,"  Marshall  rejoins,  "is  t 
much  of  an  approximation  of  all  the  Profi 
tant  Reformation  was  about  in  the  first  plac 
They  retained  too  much  of  the  ceremon 
Your  religion  comes  from  without.  I  feel  th 
you  can  have  that  ceremony  internally,  y< 
can  have  Communion  whenever  you  eat  ai 
drink,  not  just  Sundays." 

"It's  just  different,  dear,"  Arline  saj 

Actually,  Marshall's  belief  is  more  than 
foil  to  Arline's.  It  has  already  begun  to  sha] 
his  career.  Last  December,  he  remarked,  ' 
would  like  to  do  something  not  associati 
with  waging  war  in  any  shape  or  form.  Wh 
I'm  doing  now  is  part  of  that— I'm  helpii 
to  carry  foreign  aid.  Army  and  Air  For 
stuff  over  there  now.  I  believe  the  sure 
way  to  start  a  war  is  to  get  ready  for  it.  La 
at  all  that  fine  equipment  going  to  waste 
we  don't  use  it." 

And  so,  Marshall,  just  as  we  went  to  pres 
abruptly  took  a  permanent  leave  (in  fav 
of  resigning)  from  the  U.  S.  Lines,  to  sta 
work,  two  days  after  his  reserve  trainii 
ended,  at  the  Sikorsky  Aircraft  Division  of  tl 
United  Aircraft  Corporation  in  Bridgepoi 
Connecticut.  "  In  the  whole  field  of  enginee 
ing,"  he  concedes,  "there's  always  son 
infringement  on  my  idea  of  nonparticipatk 
in  war."  Blueprinting  the  installation  > 
radar,  transmitters  and  receivers  in  ne 
helicopters,  he  believes,  is  a  gentler  compn 
mise  with  his  conscience  than  his  last  jo 
for  although  helicopters  are  used  tactical! 
in  reconnaissance  and  to  direct  artillery  fir 
their  spurs  were  won,  and  continue  to  I 
won.  on  missions  of  mercy. 

Arline  timed  her  latest  job,  during  Mart 
and  April  at  Bonwit's,  with  Marshall's  oriei 
tation  at  Sikorsky.  He  took  a  room  in  Bridg 
port,  commuting  week  ends  to  Fresh  Me: 
dows,  scouting  in  his  spare  hours  near  h 
plant  for  an  apartment  they  hope  to  occup 
by  June.  His  new  income,  $440  a  month, 
two  thirds  of  what  it  used  to  be — "and  nov 
with  the  wage  lid  torn  off,  I'd  have  bee 
making  $750!"— but  there's  sugar  on  th 
pill.  "It'll  take  longer  before  we  smack 
down  payment  on  that  low-slung  ranc 
house  we  planned  on,"  Marshall  smiles,  "bi 
Arline  wants  me  near,  rather  than  ever  ha\ 
a  house.  She's  tickled  pink!" 

Sometimes,  he  wonders  if  this  new  jol 
this  new  life,  is  just  a  fickle  recess  from 
mariner's  calling.  Arline  is  too  patient  1 
hope  the  sea  wind  stays  off  his  cheek,  h\ 
her  grandfather  is  confident.  "  I  am  not  wo 
ried,"  Pommie  now  says,  in  his  spare  wa 
"They  will  be  very  happy  together." 

THE  EN 


I.  ^  i>  r   i;  s  •     no   \i   i;     j  o  i;   n   \   \  j. 


km  oiilj  m  Dajtoii  Koolkiii  Pillow... a 


The  breathless  ecstasy  of  complete  comfort,  relaxation,  rest!  The  alluring,  irresistible 
invitation  to  deep,  sweet,  refreshing  sleep!  Yours  ...  all  that  ...  a  marvelous  luxury  that  is  far  above 
any  comparison  of  price,  A  Dayton  Koolfoam  Pillow  . . .  incredibly  smooth  and  soft,  yielding  yet 
firmly  supporting,  lulling  you  so  gently.  A  thing  apart  .  .  .  totally  unlike  inferior  foam  pillows. 
And  yours,  for  a  lifetime  . , .  yet  actually  for  so  little.  See  for  yourself  ...  at  your  favorite  store! 


IB 


sH(oolfoampi"E 


©D.R.  1953 


ENJOY  THE  REST  OF  YOUR  LIFE! 


DAYTON    RUBBER    COMPANY,     DAYTON     1,    OHIO    •    WORLD'S    LARGEST    MANUFACTURER    OF    FOAM    LATEX  PILLOWS 


170  LADIES'HOMEJOURNAL  May,  1953 


illm 


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FOR  DESCRIPTIVE  FOLDER,  WRITE  DEPT.   L-553,  ARVIN  INDUSTRIES,  INC.,  COLUMBUS,  INDIANA 


TAW  JAMESON 

(Continued  from  Page  62) 


imaginings  of  a  city— or  that  there,  among 
them,  I  did  sometimes  feel  as  if  I'd  at  last 
come  home  from  some  far  journey. 

Many  county  families  and  few  Americans 
stopped  at  our  hotel.  Since  the  time,  years 
before,  when  Wickendon  House  had  been 
sold  and  turned  into  an  embassy,  Lord  Wick- 
endon's  grandmother  had  spent  a  part  of 
each  season  at  the  Connaught,  and  to  stay  in 
this  totally  red-carpeted  place  with  its  creak- 
ing bird-cage  elevator  was,  Mrs.  Heyward 
said,  more  "subtle"  and  " initialed"  than  lo 
stay  at  Claridge's  as  she  had  planned.  Since 
the  Connaught  never  gave  the  newspapers 
any  items  about  guests,  the  way  some  of  the 
hotels  did,  Mrs.  Heyward  had  to  see  to  it  her- 
self that  the  European  edition  of  the  Herald 
Tribune  carried  "a  dignified  social  note" 
about  hei  being  there.  Inside  of  two  days 
there  came  the  big  box  of  flowers  and  the  en- 
closed card  that  Mrs.  Heyward  turned  over 
and  over  in  her  hand.  The  title  of  Prince  and 
the  von  Abensperg  name  were  crossed  out. 
The  card  said:  /  shall  call  al  four  this  after- 
noon— Konrad. 

The  windowless  hall  outside  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward's  suite  was  done  all  in  dark  maroon  and 
mahogany,  and  when  I  opened  the  door  the 
wan,  rainy-day  light  fell  forward  into  that 
cavelike  place. 

"Well,  Taw."  said  Prince  von  Abensperg, 
"now  that  I  see  you,  I  find  I  was  expecting 
to.  You  do  not  surprise  me  at  this  door."  He 
was  smiling,  and  I  moved  aside  and  took  his 
'  lat  and  stick  and  wished  him  good  afternoon. 
In  the  sitting  room  I  could  see  better  what 
eleven  years  had  cost  or  given  him.  Nothing, 
I  thought,  at  first.  During  those  years  he  had 
married  a  rich  woman  and  fathered  and 
buried  a  child  and  fought  in  the  courts 
against  being  divorced  and  then  fought  to 
Ht't  money  from  his  wife  and  lost  both  fights. 
But  I  didn't  know  all  this.  I  just  saw  how  he 
looked.  His  white  hair  seemed  scarcely  dif- 
ferent from  his  old  pale  blondness,  and  here 
he  was  close  to  fifty,  still  perfectly  unshad- 
owed. Mrs.  Heyward  had  come  in  and  had 
her  hand  kissed  and  the  Prince  was  leaning 
against  the  mantelpiece  of  that  white-and- 
crimson  room  before  it  struck  me  that  he  was 
smaller  than  he  used  to  be.  Not  exactly 
shorter,  or  even  thinner.  Yet  somehow  I  felt 
sure  he  must  weigh  less  now. 

Mrs.  Heyward  ordered  highballs  instead 
of  tea  and  when  I  went  off  to  the  portable 
bar  in  her  room  the  Prince  was  still  stand- 
ing, gazing  down  at  her  where  she  sat  on  the 
damask  sofa.  She  was  more  delicately  made 
up  than  usual  and  her  hair  matched  the 
silver  embroidery  on  the  long  sleeves  of  her 
loose,  light-green  tea  gown.  At  last  I  heard 
the  Prince  say,  "  It  is  superb.  I  am  grateful." 
She  must  have  sent  a  questioning  glance  at 
him,  because  he  said,  "Let  us  admit  that  you 
had  it  in  you  to  make  a  ruin  of  your  beauty — 
that  I  had  some  reason  to  fear  you  would 
have  taken  to  tight  lacing  and  the  henna 
pot." 

"Nonsense,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "I  like 
to  be  comfortable,  as  I  always  did.  I'm  still 
just  a  natural,  matter-of-fact  woman  who 
does  as  she  pleases." 

"Kahth-reen!"  The  Prince  was  laughing. 
"  Is  it  possible  that  you  believe  this?  Do  you 
think  such  a  woman  as  you  describe  would 
have  brought  me  running  here?" 

"If  she  were  as  rich,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward, 
"as  I  am." 

"  Do  you  not  see  how  complicated  you  are? 
You  use  a  truth  to  kill  a  truth.  For  it  is  true 
and  you  must  know  it,"  the  Prince  said, 
"that  I  would  have  come  had  you  no  single 
penny.  The  only  difference  would  perhaps 
have  been  in  how  we  might  describe  my 
intentions.  As  it  is  we  can  call  them  honor- 
able." 

I  had  to  press  Chloe's  dress  for  that  night, 
and  it  took  a  long  while  to  get  through  with 
all  those  yards  of  tulle.  I  thought  Chloe'd 
have  come  in  by  the  time  I  finished,  but 
when  I  took  the  dress  up  Mrs.  Heyward  and 
the  Prince  were  still  alone.  They  sat  to- 
gether, now,  in  lamplight.  "Then  stay  out 


the  season  if  you  must,"  the  Prince  was  say- 
ing, "but  promise  you'll  come  right  after  to, 
Immenstadt." 

"I  can't,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "We  may 
be  busy  here." 

"In  August?  What  on  earth  doing?" 
asked  the  Prince. 

I'd  gone  on  through  to  Chloe's  room  before 
Mrs.  Heyward  answered.  She  said,  "There's 
a  house— a  little  gem— for  sale  in  Sloane 
Square.  But  it  would  need  furnishing,  and  it 
may  need  repair." 

From  then  on  I  had  to  wonder  when  Lord 
Wickendon  slept.  When  it  seemed  he  had 
only  just  left,  before  Chloe  wakened  from 
her  little  sleep,  he  would  be  on  the  phone  i 
leaving  messages.  It  began  to  look  as  if  ev-  J 
erybody  in  Burke's  Peerage  was  competing 
to  invite  her  places.  In  the  Illustrated  Weekly 
for  May  10th  you  could  see  "At  the  Pytchley  , 
Hunt  Ball  with  the  Earl  of  Wickendon,  Miss  I 
Chloe  Heyward"  and  "On  Lord  Wicken- 
don's  Bonnie  Blue  in  the  Ranelagh  Gym- 
khana, Miss  Chloe  Heyward"  and  "Tea  on  , 
the  Terrace.  At  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  j 
Mrs.  James  Tate  Heyward  of  North  Caro- 
lina and  her  daughter,  Chloe." 

Chloe  grew  a  little  thinner  as  the  parties  . 
multiplied  and  even  Mrs.  Heyward,  who  at  . 
first  went  everywhere — but  whose  shallow 
store  of  strength  was  soon  used  up— even 
Mrs.  Heyward  tired  of  her  joy  and  turned  as 
fretful  as  a  surfeited  child  at  Christmas.  Try- 
ing to  keep  up,  she  went  back  to  brandy,  and 
she  and  Chloe  quarreled  over  this  until  she 
fell  to  weeping.  It  was  plain,  though,  that  she 
had  to  choose  between  keeping  her  new- 
styled,  late-blooming  beauty  and  going  on. 
So  she  began  to  stay  in  most  evenings. 

The  old  Countess  of  Wickendon's  maid 
was  better  at  pumping  than  I  was,  but  I  was 
better  at  holding  out  than  she.  So  we  came 
off  even,  telling  one  another  very  little.  And 
yet  everybody  in  the  hotel  knew  that  what 
brought  the  Countess  there  weeks  ahead  of  • 
her  usual  time  was  her  curiosity  about  this  r 
American  girl  whose  mother,  upon  being  in-  : 
vited  to  come  with  her  daughter  to  Wicken- 
don, had  politely  begged  to  have  the  visit 
put  off  a  while.  The  Countess  always  dressed 
in  dark  blue  and  smelled  like  fresh  violets. 
She  wore  bushy  pink  hats  made  of  feathers  i 
and  looked  a  great  deal  younger  than  her 
age,  which  was  seventy-six.  During  the 
World  War,  Lord  Wickendon's  parents  had 
been  killed  by  a  bomb,  and  the  Countess,  al- 
ready a  widow,  had  brought  up  her  grandson. 
From  the  first  time  I  saw  her  it  seemed  to 
me  that  this  baby-faced,  gray-eyed  woman 
might  easily  live  forever. 

"She  is  not  fond  of  Germans,"  Prince  von 
Abensperg  said,  "but  if  you  had  us  together 
to  tea  I  think  she  would  ask  me  to  Wick- 
endon." 

"Why  do  you  want  to  go?"  said  Mrs 
Heyward. 

"Because  you  are  going,"  the  Prince  an- 
swered, but  Mrs.  Heyward  only  looked 
amused.  He  would  have  to  give  a  better  ' 
reason,  she  told  him.  "There  is  none,"  he 
said.  "But  it  is  also  true  that  house  parties 
at  Wickendon  are  still  in  the  grand  manner — 
and  to  stay  there  would  assist  me.  I  am  out 
of  invitations  at  the  moment,  which  causes 
my  credit  to  suffer." 

I  suspected  that  this  credit  of  his  was  past 
suffering,  being  about  expired.  He  came 
around  nearly  every  afternoon  and  although 
Chloe  enjoyed  him,  not  only  remembering 
the  spell  he  had  cast  for  her  when  she  was 
little  but  seeming,  even,  to  feel  some  faint 
remainder  of  it,  still  she  took  care  always  to 
go  out  or  be  out  when  he  was  there.  And 
although  I  still  owed  Mrs.  Heyward  eight 
thousand  and  thirty-one  dollars  including 
those  few  she  had  advanced  me  instead  of 
wages— and  although  I  meant  never  in  my 
life  to  work  for  Konrad  von  Abensperg— I, 
too,  hoped  silently  that  Mrs.  Heyward  might 
become  a  Princess. 

I  remember  I  was  drawing  the  curtains 
against  damp  air  and  a  dark  sky,  because  the 
afternoon  was  more  like  March  than  May, 


and,  "Yes.  Stuil  it  out,"  the  I'rincf  said  in  a 
lont'  lliat  caused  Mrs.  Ik-yward  lo  Unik  up. 

"ll's  not  as  t)ad  as  all  thai!"  sin-  rc- 
inarked. 

"Il  will  net  worse.  Hideous,"  he  siiid. 
"Have  you  not  read  (jf  all  thai  I  he  other  day 
in  the  'ren>i)elh()(erfeld?  " 

"Where?  Oh"  Mrs.  Hcyward  looked 
surprised  "are  you  talkinu  alxjut  the 
Na/.is?  '{"hose  May  Day  eelehralions?  I'd've 
tiioUKlit  you'd  approve,  ^  our  precious  Von 
1  liiuienhur^;  k<>*'s  aloiiK  with  1  Iillci ." 

"  Ticicc,  when  he  had  the  |H)wer,  the  presi- 
flent  deiui'd  the  i  haiu  elloisiiip  to  1  litler.  You 
need,  ls.ahlh-reen,"  tlu'  I'rince  said,  "lo  see 
the  newsceel  ol  the  president's  last  birth- 
day." 

Mrs.  Hey  ward  looked  skejjlical,  and  the 
Prince  went  on:  "He  is  on  his  balcony  for 
the  crowd,  and  there  before  I  he  dark  windows 
of  his  house  thi'ir  torches  show  the  iron 
seams  in  his  face,  and  his  waving  hand  is 
melancholy  and  he  turns  the  (^reat  weight  of 
his  flesh  and  yi'ars  back  into  tlu'  dark  at 
once    because  he  knows." 

Presently,  when  I'd  handed  the  tea,  "You 
incan  tliere'U  be  war?"  Mrs.  Hey  ward  said, 
and  was  as  surprised  as  I  that  the  I'rince 
.should  answer  only  with  a  shruK. 

I  had  my  own  tea  downstairs.  (Joinn  up 
aiiain,  I  took  vases  and  the  tx)x  of  flowers 
that  had  come  for  Chloe  and  I  went  into  her 
room  from  the  hall.  The  sittinK-rcM>m  dtK)r 
was  open  as  usual,  but  the  way  both  the 
Prince  and  Mrs.  Hey  ward  were  concentrat- 
ing on  their  talk  was  enough  to  keep  them 


from  hearint',  me.  li<M(l(s  the  iiiiiiule  I  |.',oi 
111  lliere  I  decided  lo  1m- »  xlremcly  iiuiel. 

'  There  is  si  ill  lime  lor  us,  Kahth-reen,"  the 
Prince  was  sayinu.  "I.et  us  u.i>  to«elher  wf 
can  turn  up  the  lights  and  have  out  the  wine 
and  play  music  on  your  iiiouiii.iiii" 

"Al  Mlowinn  Rock?"  Mrs.  Hey  ward  was 
half  launhinn.  "What  a  scandal  that  would 
make!" 

"How  a  scandal?"  the  Pi  nice  sjiid. 
■"\'ears  a^o  I  asked  you 

"Hut  Konrad  iteur."  said  Mrs.  Hcyward. 
"/  Imiv  clianni'tl.  You  were  years  younger 
than  I,  and  yon'if  sluynl  yoiinn.  Hut  I 

"What  nonsense  is  this?"  the  Prince  sjiid. 

"That's  exactly  the  (luestion,"  said  Mrs. 
Heyward,  "that  I  was  alxnit  to  ask  _v(/«." 

"  Kalilli-rnH,"  the  Prince  said  wearily,  and 
there  was  a  short  silence  until  Mrs.  Heyward 
remarked  anxiously  that  f  hloe  was  lale. 
"Arc  you  afraid,"  he  asked,  "that  she  will 
miss  the  next  en^;a^;emenl  ?  " 

Hut  all  Mrs.  I  leyward  sai<l  to  this  was,  "  1 
should  think  you'd  worry  iiitli  me.  and  se< 
how  im|X)rtanl  it  is  for  her  lo  have  a  taste  ol 
the  'ureal  world'  and  ^;et  over  this  nonsense 
alx)ut  that  impractiail.  insufferable  boy." 

"Is  this  younji  Peter  you  describe?" 
asked  the  Prince. 

As  if  he  hadn't  six)ken,  Mrs.  Heyward 
went  on.  "  I  can't  live  forever.  I  want  to  see 
her  properly  placed.  With  someone  who  am 
Kive  her  the  protection  she  ounht  to  have." 

"For  instance,  Ixjrd  Wickendon?" 

"  Heavens,  no !  With  that  bossy  old  woman 
(jetting  into  everylhinK?  Besides,"  said  Mrs. 


By  MARCELENE  COX 


THE  most  charming  woman  we  know, 
now  in  her  eighties,  says  growing  old  has 
much  in  it  that's  good,  like  enjoying  plain 
food  after  holiday  fare. 

Doing  a  woman's  work  is  like  walking 
down  a  railroad  track:  the  end  seems  in 
sight,  but  never  is. 

The  following  excerpt  from  the  Venerable 
Bade  may  be  helpful  in  achieving  the  right 
attitude  toward  that  casual  summer  visi- 
tor :  "First ,  wash  the  hands  and  feet  of  your 
guest;  second,  feed  him;  third,  lodge  him; 
fourth,  after  two  days  and  two  nights  in- 
quire his  name,  his  intentions  and  his  ante- 
cedents." 

Mother's  heart,  soft  as  a  rubber  ball  that 
has  wintered  outdoors. 

Watching  a  child,  trying  in  vain  to  keep 
ofT  his  feet  while  eating,  one  concludes  that 
the  buffet  supper  was  invented  by  some 
person  who  never  grew  up. 

A  man's  success  depends  upon  the  kind 
of  wife  he's  been  leading. 

"Too  many  housewives,"  remarks  a 
woman  from  the  depths  of  a  contented 
family  life,  "are  constantly  worried  over 
the  proper  performance  of  little  things  that 
would  in  no  way  affect  the  family  happiness 
if  they  were  left  undone." 

A  young  girl  fulfills  a  social  obligation: 
"  I'm  so  glad  you  gave  me  these  little  cards, 
because  now  I  can  thank  you  for  them." 

Trouble,  like  the  hill  ahead,  straightens 
out  when  you  advance  upon  it. 

When  all  our  children  are  home  (includ- 
ing the  son-in-law  and  a  couple  of  suitors) 
there  comes  a  certain  night  when  the  word 
is  passed  around  that  the  the  big  eat  will 
take  place  at  twelve  o'clock.  (The  idea  is 


to  advance  uptm  the  kitchen  and  eat  any- 
thing and  everything  procurable.)  . . .  Next 
day,  the  amazing  thing  to  me  is  not  the 
empty  refrigerator  or  shelves,  but  that 
their  appetites  are  undiminished. 

A  teacher  who  regularly  makes  a  prac- 
tice of  hunting  up  the  most  unattractive 
child  and  whispering  in  her  ear,  "You're 
getting  prettier  every  day."  says  it  always 
works;  almost  at  once  the  child  begins  to 
blossom  into  something  close  to  beauty. 

The  youngest  and  her  father  have  now 
concluded  it's  easier  to  cut  down  the  bur- 
docks behind  the  barn  in  summer  than  to 
comb  them  out  of  the  collie  the  rest  of  the 
year. 

Bargain :  something  you  figure  out  a  use 
for  after  you  buy  it. 

During  the  croquet  season,  the  chief 
business  of  the  parents  here  is  to  see  that 
the  game  is  played  with  mallets  toward 
none,  with  charity  for  all. 

Arguments  can  be  avoided  between  mar- 
ried partners  if,  as  with  two  drivers  com- 
ing to  a  narrow  bridge,  one  slows  down. 

The  way  to  tell  who's  boss  in  a  family  is 
to  note  whether  or  not,  when  meeting  her 
husband  at  the  train,  a  wife  moves  over 
from  the  driver's  seat. 

One  family  grades  its  children  on  the  fol- 
lowing points:  1— Quick  Answers;  2— As- 
tuteness; 3— Blind  Obedience;  4— Enlight- 
ened Selfishness;  5— Extricating  the  Family 
from  a  Dilemma.  (No.  3  receives  fewest 
points.) 

At  his  son's  wedding,  husband  to  wife: 
"Don't  cry,  dear.  We  now  have  exclusive 
rights  to  the  car  keys." 

Home  is  not  built  in  a  day. 


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172 


LADIES' 


!I    O    IM  E 


JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


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Heyward,  "he's  too  young.  Women  are  born 
old,  and  they  need  men  to  be  older,  much 
older,  Konrad.  and  more  experienced  and 
cleverer  than  they." 

"But  Lx)rd  Wickendon,"  the  Prince  said 
slowly,  "is rich." 

"He  is,"  Mrs.  Heyward  admitted.  "And 
can't  you  just  see  him  and  that  old  woman 
throwing  the  weight  of  their  money  around  ?  " 

"So  it  must  be  a  poor  man,"  the  Prince 
said.  "One  who  can  be  managed  by  his  rich 
mother-in-law." 

"Why  be  so  nasty?  And  unfair,"  said 
Mrs.  Heyward.  "For  the  right  man  of  course 
there'll  be  a  settlement.  A  handsome  dot." 

"And  am  I  to  understand  "—the  Prince's 
voice  was  low— "am  I  to  understand  that 
you  have  chosen  this  man  ?  " 

Afterwhile,  "Didn't  you  know  it?"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said.  Seconds  went  by,  and  "Still," 
she  added  in  a  different  casual  voice,  "he 
will  have  to  make  his  own  effort." 

Even  th  clock  ticking  on  the  mantel  could 
be  heard  until  the  Prince  said,  "Mein  Golt," 
as  if  he  were  alone  in  the  room. 

It  was  past  five  o'clock  the  next  afternoon 
before  Mrs.  Heyward  asked  for  tea.  The 
Prince  had  not  showed  up  at  four  as  he  usu- 
ally did  and  I  got  the  impression,  when  I 
rolled  in  the  cart,  that  Mrs.  Heyward's  tea 
was  coming  just  in  time  to  cover  a  lot  of 
brandy.  Not  being  sure,  I  looked  at  Chloe, 
but  her  eyes  were  closed.  She  was  on  the  sofa 
in  a  lilac-colored  robe,  being  in,  for  once. 

In  serving  Mrs.  Heyward  I  found  out  I 
was  right  about  the  brandy.  Her  breath  was 
strong.  She  was  thumbing  through  the  en- 
gagement book  she  kept  for  Chloe  when, 
"Mummy,"  Chloe  said,  "haven't  we  lost  the 
point?  If  you  were  meeting  all  these  people  it 
might  be  " 

"But  it's  your  success  that  pleases  me! 
Only  tonight"  —Mrs.  Heyward  paused,  look- 
ing delighted  — "I  really  have  to  go  don't  I? 
When  a  Royal  Duke  gives  a  dinner  it's  a 
command." 

"  Sometimes, "  Chloe  said.  "  But  this  is  just 
at  Quaglino's,  not  at  his  home." 

"All  the  same,"  Mrs.  Heyward  persisted, 
"a  royal  invitation's  a  command." 

"  Mummy  " — Chloe  sat  up  and  leaned  for- 
ward— "why  don't  you  go  to  Court?" 

"We  had  to  choose  between  us,"  her 
mother  answered,  "what  with  all  those  poli- 
ticians' wives  and  beer  families  trying  to  get 
in." 

"We  didn't  choose,"  Chloe  said.  "  You  did. 
We've  still  time  to  switch.  If  you  should  live 
here,  you'd  like  to  have  been  presented,  and 
I'm  not  going  to  " 

"Now  don't  start  planning  my  life ! "  Mrs. 
Heyward  said.  "If  you're  hell-bent  to  ruin 
your  own  I  don't  suppose  I  can  help  it.  But 
just  leave  me  alone." 

"I'm  not  gomg  to  ruin  my  life,"  Chloe 
said.  "But  I  am  going  to  have  it." 

"Do  you  think  that's  all  there  is  to  life?" 
cried  Mrs.  Heyward.  "Suppose  you  are  in- 
fatuated with  this  selfish  boy!  How— when 
you've  had  every  care,  every  advantage  — 
how  is  it  that  you're  so  enslaved?" 

M  WAS  seeking  which  way  I  should  get  out 
and  Chloe  said  quietly  to  her  mother,  "You 
don't  know  what  you're  saying." 

"/  don't?"  Mrs.  Heyward  had  forgotten 
me.  "Listen,"  she  said— "this  animal  thing's 
just  an  incident,  that's  all." 

"Stop  now,"  Chloe  said. 

But  her  mother  rushed  on.  "What  ruins 
things  is  the  way  people  let  it  blind  them — 

and  make  them  suspicious  or    Listen, 

Chloe,  even  your  father  " 

"Mummy!"  Chloe  said. 

"All  right,  but  I  tell  you,  I  tell  you  there's 
some  way,  somewhere."  Mrs.  Heyward's 
voice  bioke.  and  I  thought  or  imagined  I 
could  hear  her  sharp,  drawn-in  breath. 
"There  must  be  some  way,  Chloe,  some- 
where on  this  earth— that  elegance  and 
strength  can  be  the  controlling  things 
and  " 

"Please,"  Chloe  said,  "please!  You  never 
can  change  me  and  this  is  just  making  you 
sick." 

"And  why  not?"  her  mother  cried.  "When 
all  you  want  is  the  common,  dirty  " 


"Shut  up,"  said  Chloe,  and  there  was 
silence  while  I  went  around  by  the  hall  and 
into  the  sitting  room. 

The  Prince  and  his  piano  must  have  been 
right  behind  me.  Before  I  got  out  with  the 
cart  he  was  there,  he  and  the  two  men  carry-  ,« 
ing  the  little,  graceful  spinet  between  them.  !  ".t 
I  thought  his  coming  would  have  suited  Mrs. 
Heyward.  I  expected  to  see  her  pleased.  But 
although  Chloe  was  plainly  grateful  for  this 
interruption,  her  mother  got  up  and  went 
away,  and  I  heard  the  clack  of  bottles  and 
glasses  on  the  portable  bar.  At  last,  after  I'd 
■  helped  to  place  the  piano  in  a  comer,  Mrs. 

Heyward  came  back.  "  What  on  earth  " 

she  began. 

"I  asked  myself  what  to  do,"  the  Prince 
said,  "how  to  overcome  it  if  I  have  growii  ;  Ti 
so  dull  and  objectionable.  When  I  come  in,  i 
Chloe  goes  out.  But  I  remembered  that  this 
was  not  so,  that  I  saw  something  of  her  in 
Heyward  in  those  days  when  I  played 
music.  So— is  this  not  simple?" 

"  It's  absurd— and  charming,"  Chloe  said, 
and  she  sat  down  sighing,  leaning  back  and 
laying  her  fingers  up  across  her  eyes.  "What 
shall  you  play  first?"  she  asked. 

"But  you've  got  to  hurry!"  her  mother 
said.  "You've  got  to  look  your  best  and  you 
can't  be  late  for  royalty!" 

Chloe's  hands  moved  aside  to  press  against 
her  temples.  "  I'm  not  going,"  she  said.  "We 
can  telephone.  It'll  be  all  right." 

"  It  won't !  He  may  call  it  off ! "  cried  Mrs.  j  1 1  " 
Heyward.  p-i; 

"Don't  phone  then,"  Chloe  said.  "I'll 
send  a  note  by  you." 

"But  what '11  you  say?" 

"I'll  say  I  feel  ill— which  I  do." 

"  Kahth-reen,"  the  Prince  said,  "this  time 
you  must  be  the  one  to  appear  in  the  triumph 
you  two  have  made.  If  Chloe  is  to  finish  out 
the  season,  she  must  stay  here  tonight.  We 
shall  have  music  and  a  good,  quiet  dinner  in 
this  room  and  she  shall  be  rested." 

So  when  Mrs.  Heyward  had  got  into  her 
best  dress  and  jewels  I  drove  her  to  Quag- 
lino's to  meet  Lord  Wickendon  and  the  Duke 
and  his  party.  Then  I  came  back,  and  soon 
after  eight  I  was  serving  the  delicious  dinner 
with  the  carefully  cooled,  delicate  wine  that 
the  Prince  had  ordered. 

He  ate  and  drank  little,  for  he  came  to  and 
went  from  the  table  in  a  finely  timed,  un-  i 
interrupting  way.  He'd  had  me  light  the 
tapers  in  the  branched  crystal  candelabra  on 
the  mantel,  and  he  turned  out  all  but  the 
one  lamp  by  the  piano  where  he  would  go 
from  time  to  time  to  play  some  light,  clear, 
perfect  piece  of  music.  Chloe  asked  for 
Chopin,  but  the  Prince  said  another  time  he 
would  play  Chopin.  "Let  us  have  only  music 
for  music's  sake.  Let  us  have  Mozart,  who 
will  refuse  to  be  blemished  by  answering  t 
any  such  foolish  pains  or  conflicts  as  we  ma; 
know." 

"You  make  it  sound,"  Chloe  said,  "as  it 
we  could  just  lay  the  conflicts  and  pam 
aside." 

"Do  I?"  was  all  the  Prince  said,  for  now 
he  had  begun  to  draw  a  thin,  dreaming  sort 
of  tune  from  the  spinet.  "Rest,"  said  he.  "Put 
your  feet  up  and  we  shall  talk."  I  left  the 
table  uncleared  and  went  straight  out.  It 
took  only  a  minute  to  get  round  into  Chloe's 
room. 

"But  can  you  not  help  yourself?"  the 
Prince  was  saying  as  I  sat  down  there.  , 
"Must  you  create  and  cling  to  pain?"        #|l  ^ 

"I  don't!"  Chloe  said.  "  I 

"But  is  this  not  what  you  and  all  who  fl  . 
cry  'Love!  Love!'  are  doing?"  asked  the  l'  . 
Prince.  "  Do  you  not  torture  this  boy  Peter? 
Are  they  not  selfish  letters  that  come  to  you 
from  him?  In  heaven — they  say — there  is  no 
marriage  or  giving  in  marriage.  And  what 
does  the  oldest  religion  say  of  Paradise?  No 
desire,  nirvana,  is  what  it  says.  And  these 
notions  have  not  risen  from  our  folly,  but 
from  our  little  wisdom." 

"You  keep  dodging  off  to  Paradise," 
Chloe  said,  "but  millions  of  people  are  stuck 
here  with  their  feelings.  And  there's  a 
weighty  opinion  that  love  is  the  best  of 
these." 

"There  may  be  some  point,"  the  Prince 
allowed,  "in  glorifying  what  one  has  not  the 


I 


1)1  I 


II    n    M  I 


I    i>  I 


17  li 


judjinifiil  or  \hv  ability  lo  i'sca|H'.  Hul  sup- 
pose you  could  briiiji  yourself  lo  leave  oH 
your  loiin  arKumeiil  willi  Kalil li-reeu.  Would 
this  change  one  star,  one  billionth  part  ol  Ihe 
universe,  or  even  the  sound  of  this  music" 
and  here- he  bejian  aKain  the  trailinu,  sweet 
tune  "or  any  jjarden  you  ininht  peacefully 
walk  in,  or  any  single  line  tliiiiK  that  could 
and  shoulfl  be  utterly  yours  if  you  knew 
how  or  if  I  had  such  chance  as  to  show  you 
how  thing's  can  be  the 

"Wait,"  C'hloe  said.  "This  has  a  familiar 
rinn.  '  y<>ii  don't  understand  about  lite,  little 
girl,  but  /  can  show  you  how  to  /;/•(•,''  Isn't 
this  where  the  rascal  begins  to  make  love  to 
her?" 

Tiilv  I'rince  launiied.  stopping  his  music. 
"Touclie  in  jjoint  of  argument,"  he  said, 
"but  not  in  fact.  Since  I  do  not  love  since 
such  is  my  nature  you  need  never  fear  me. 
That  I  iniulil  make  certain  advances  is  pos- 
sible, but  even  these  since  I  set  greater 
store  by  you  than  by  any  other  k)vely  IhinK 
on  earth  even  these  would  never  come  un- 
less you  wished  it.  To  keep  you  from  pain 
and  involvement  would  be  my  pleasuri'.  and 
in  this  you  would  find  me  skillful." 

"Do  you  know  somelhinK?"  Chloe  said 
slowly.  "  In  a  way,  in  a  way,  you're  trying  lo 
tell  me  the  truth." 

"In  a  way,"  the  I'rince  said.  "Because 
that  is  my  nature  loo." 

"I  mean,  you  believe  Chloe  bcKan. 

"Here— give  me  your  hand,"  said  the 
Prince,  "and  here  is  my  hand  on  it  -  that  I 
believe  it  is  possible  to  take 
as  the  gods  take,  knowing 
the  world  is  made  of  our 
own  dreaming." 

"You  twist  — you  twist 
it  all  around."  Chloe 's 
words  came  still  more  slow- 
ly and  her  voice  was  fad- 
ing. "And  even  a  baby," 
she  said,  "even  a  baby 
ought  to  be  able  to  " 

Silence  filled  the  sitting 
room.  I  waited  as  long  as  I  could  stand  it 
before  I  went  around  and  knocked  at  the 
door. 

Chloe  was  asleep  on  tlie  sofa,  and  the 
Prince  sitting  by  her  still  had  her  hand  in  his. 
He  merely  glanced  at  me  in  an  absent- 
minded  way  while  I  gathered  up  the  dishes, 

"It's  cooling,"  I  said  at  last,  "and  she'll 
take  cold.  I'll  fetch  something  to  cover  her." 

Then  he  was  looking  straight  at  me.  "No, 
thank  you.  I  will  do  it  myself,"  he  said.  And 
he  went  and  brought  the  spread  from  Mrs. 
Heyward's  bed  and  tucked  it  around  Chloe, 
moving  in  that  careful  way  of  a  man  who  is 
handling  his  most  valuable  possession. 

"Doesn't  it  occur  to  you,"  Lord  Wicken- 
don  asked  Chloe,  "that  he  might  like  to  be 
alone  with  her?  Do  you  feel  your  mother 
needs  a  chaperon?"  But  Chloe  just  laughed, 
not  answering,  for  she  wouldn't  explain  that 
not  she  but  her  mother  was  the  one  who 
nosed  in  on  those  engagements  and  excursions 
with  Prince  von  Abensperg.  Mrs.  Heyward 
made  no  fuss,  now,  when  Chloe  stayed  away 
from  Lord  Wickendon  and  parties.  "I  wish 
we  hadn't  invited  him,"  Lord  Wickendon 
said,  and  then  fell  into  gloomy  silence  re- 
viewing the  idea  he'd  had:  that  the  Prince 
would  take  care  of  the  problem  of  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward, if  not  permanently,  at  least  through 
the  long  Whitsunday  week  end  at  Wicken- 
don Castle. 

"Why,"  asked  Lord  Wickendon,  "do  you 
stick  about  with  her  instead  of  coming  with 
me?" 

"She's  ill,"  Chloe  answered.  "There's 
something  gone  wrong,  and  I'm  worried," 
and  Lord  Wickendon  kept  quiet  then.  He 
could  see  for  himself  that  Mrs.  Heyward 
was  not  as  she  had  been  on  the  boat. 

She  could  do  wonders  with  her  make-up 
when  she  was  careful,  and  she  was  careful 
now,  and  took  more  massage  and  warm  foam 
baths  than  I  ever  remembered.  But  her  face 
brought  all  the  skill  she  spent  on  it  to  noth- 
ing. Seeing  the  craggy,  solitary  look  of  it, 
"You  do  need  a  change!"  the  old  Countess 
declared.  And  she  was  quick  and  gracious  in 
saying  it  would  be  a  pleasure,  when  Mrs. 


Pray  as  if  everything  de- 
pended on  God,  and  work 
OS  if  everything  depended 
upon  yourself. 

—  FRANCIS. 
CARDINAL  SPELLMAN 


Heyward  asked  if  she  and  t  IiIih'  might  come 
down  ahead  of  time  lo  Wickendon. 

Those  last  few  flays  of  May  were  line  and 
Ian  and  Mrs.  Heyward  was  pushing  lo  get  lo 
the  country  by  Tuesday  at  least.  Hut  on 
Tuesday  Lord  Wickendon  had  to  Ix-  at  the 
l'"oreigii  Odice  lo  see  Mr.  Kden,  who  came 
back  from  (ieneva,  and  since  the  Countess 
wanted  to  wail  for  her  grandson  Mrs.  Hey- 
ward was  obliged  to  siMtle  for  leaving  on 
Wednesday  morning.  Lady  Wickendon's  car 
was  ready  by  eleven,  and  I  was  in  Mrs 
Hi'yward's  room  atx)Ul  lo  lake  the  bags 
down  when  the  phone  rang  and  a  knocking 
came  on  Ihe  sill ing-riMnn  door  aiitl  it  o|R'ned, 
all  in  the  same  minute.  I-'rom  downstairs 
they  were  announcing  Peter.  But  he  hadn't 
waited,  and  I  heard  Chloe's  chair  falling 
back  and  her  feet  running  towarrl  him.  Dur- 
ing the  silence  that  followed,  Mrs.  Heyward 
pointed  to  the  bags.  "Chloe's  loo.  At  once." 
she  said,  and  then  was  gone. 

Of  course  she  meant  me  to  gel  Chloe's 
bags,  but  1  went  into  the  sitting  room.  I'eti  i 
could  hardly  shake  hands  for  looking  at 
Chloe.  "Why  didn't  you  cable?"  she  asked. 

"I  did,  naturally,"  he  answered.  "So  take 
one  guess  for  who  got  it." 

"We'll  settle  with  her!"  Chloe  said  and  I 
might  have  been  furniture  for  the  way  they 
were  in  each  other's  arms  again. 

I  decided  lo  lake  Chloe's  bags  out  through 
the  sitting  room. 

"What's  this?"  asked  Peter. 
"What?"  Chloe  turned  around  out  of  his 
arms  as  I  set  the  bags  down.  "Oh — we  were 
going  to  Wickendon,"  she 
.'^  managed  to  say.  Peter's 

face  darkened.  "To 
Charles'.  You  know — Ix>rd 
Wickendon." 

'■  I  ought  lo."  said  Peter 
in  that  lone  people  use 
when  they  mean  to  make  a 
jokeout  of  some  unpleasant 
lacl.  "Am  I  in  the  very 
nick?"  He  took  the  news- 
paperpiece  from  hispocket. 
It  was  six  days  old,  from  a  New  York 
paper.  Later  I  saw  the  item  that  Chloe 
read :  It's  only  a  mailer  of  lime  Ihey  say  in  Lon- 
don, and  nol  much  lime  al  thai.  Old  Thinf;.  he- 
fore  heiress  Chloe  Heyward  will  wed  Ihe  Earl  of 
Wickendon.  Anyway.  I  his  is  a  good  bet. 

"  I  made  the  Mauretania  in  six  hours, 
special  visa  and  all,"  Peter  said. 

Chloe  was  silent,  slowly  folding  the  paper. 
At  last  she  said,  "  I  thought  maybe  it  was 
my  letters.  If  you  read  what  I  wrote,  what 
difTerence  would  this  make?" 

"Ah,  darling,"  he  said,  "all  I  know  is  the 

whole  seven  weeks  was  hell,  and  " 

"  It  was,"  Chloe  agreed.  The  phone  began 
ringing  in  her  bedroom. 

When  I  came  back  Peter  was  saying,  "The 
cheapest  place  is  what  I've  got  to  find."  He 
turned  out  his  pockets.  "All  I  have  is  three 
pounds,  four  shillings  and  eight  pence." 

"Can't  Stickney's  send  you  something?" 
asked  Chloe. 

Peter  shook  his  head.  "I'm  afraid  I  don't 
work  there  any  more.  I  sent  them  a  nice  long, 
explanatory,  placating  wireless  from  the 
ship.  But  the  answer  was  silence." 

I  was  trying  to  get  a  word  in  but  Chloe 
said,  "We'll  have  to  use  it  then.  Your  ad- 
vance. You'll  have  to  cable  " 

"This  is  it,"  said  Peter,  putting  back  his 
money.  "I  had  to  ride  first  class.  I  could 
have  had  the  Royal  Suite  for  first-class  mini- 
mum, but  there  wasn't  a  bunk  in  third  or 
second." 

"They're  all  waiting,"  I  finally  got  in. 
"His  lordship  says  will  you  please  " 

"Just  tell  him,"  Peter  said,  "that  Miss 
Heyward  regrets." 

"But  Peter,  I'll  have  to  explain  to  " 

"Explain  what?  Me?"  said  Peter. 

"Oh,  be  quiet!"  Chloe  cried,  and  before  she 
ran  out  she  threw  her  arms  around  him. 
"You  absolutely  awful,  impossible  fool." 

He  started  after  her,  but  I  was  in  his  way. 
"  It's  all  right  you  came — even  what  it  cost. 
But  like  you  once  told  her — she'll  have  to  do 
it  herself,"  I  said  to  his  surprised,  tired  face. 

Lady  Wickendon's  car  was  ten  years  old, 
one  of  those  that  could  be  made  open  at  the 


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CONGOLEUM-NAIRN  INC..  Kearny,  N.J.  01953 


174 


LADIES'       HOME       JOURN  AL 


May,  1953 


ml 


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back  and  having  a  little  railing  all  round  the 
forward  roof  to  contain  the  luggage.  Her 
footman  was  already  standing  up  there  among 
the  Prince's  bags,  waiting  to  strap  on  what  I 
brought.  The  two  jump  seats  were  down, 
ready  for  Chloe  and  Lord  Wickendon,  who 
stood  on  the  sidewalk.  Mrs.  Heyward  was  in 
the  middle  of  the  back  seat  with  the  Prince 
beside  her. 

The  Countess  leaned  over  the  near  side 
of  the  car  and  said,  "You're  a  bad  loser, 
Charles,  which  I  didn't  know  before."  To 
Chloe  she  said,  "Bring  your  young  man,  my 
dear.  We've  a  dance  Saturday  evening,  and 
Charles  and  I  will  be  honored  if  you— and 
your  mother,  of  course — should  choose  to  an- 
nounce your  engagement  from  Wickendon." 

"We'll  be  nothing  of  the  sort!  This  is  one 
thing  you've  got  to  keep  out  of,  granny!" 
Lord  Wickendon  was  pale,  turning  to  Chloe. 
"Didn't  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  "that  you  never 
would  come?" 

"Lady  Wickendon,"  Mrs.  Heyward  put 
in,  "if  you'll  forgive  me,  I  think  your  grand- 
son understands  Chloe's  circumstance  better 
than  you  do." 

"Be  that  as  it  may,"  Lady  Wickendon 
said  dryly,  looking  into  Chloe's  face,  "my 
grandson  has  plainly  lost  her,  and  I  feel  it's 
important,  just  now,  to  have  this  fact  appear 
in  the  best  light  possible." 

"I'm  sorry,"  Chloe  began,  "but  I   " 

"It  wouldn't  do,"  said  Mrs.  Heyward. 
"Your  home  is  scarcely  Peter's  milieu.  At 
Wickendon,  among  your  other  guests  he'd — 
it  would  be . . .  awkward." 

"What  did  you  do  with  my  cable?"  Chloe 
said. 

"Will  you  bring  him?"  the  Countess 
asked. 

"Thank  you.  Lady  Wickendon,"  Chloe 
said.  "If  Peter  and  I  may  come  along  a  little 
later — Taw  will  bring  us." 

As  if  he'd  only  just  then  joined  the  party, 
the  Prince  turned  around  and  waved  his  hat 
while  they  drove  off.  He  looked  as  satisfied 
and  gay  as  Lord  Wickendon  was  stiff. 

We  were  going  in,  Chloe  and  I,  when  Peter 
came  through  the  shallow  stone  portico  onto 
the  sidewalk.  Chloe  drew  a  deep  breath,  and, 
"Let's  walk,"  she  said,  pointing  toward 
Berkeley  Square.  "  Everything's  green  there. 
Taw  can  bring  our  stuff  and  pick  us  up." 

"Too  public,"  said  Peter.  "Let's  go  in. 
Upstairs." 

"The  car  won't  be  public,"  Chloe  said, 
and  to  Peter's  questioning  look,  "  It's  a  town 
car,"  she  explained,  smiling.  "Where's  your 
luggage?" 

"  By  the  desk.  But  why?  "  asked  Peter  as  I 
started  off  to  the  mews.  And  when  I  came 
back  with  the  Rolls  they  were  still  where  1  'd 
left  them. 


I  parked  a  short  way  off.  They  never  no- 
ticed me  when  I  walked  by  them.  "Why 
can't  you  just  trust  me?"  Chloe  said  tensely. 
"You  throw  away  the  job  we  need  you  to 
have  and  spend  what  we  were  saving  for — 

for   "  Chloe  bit  her  lip.  "You  can  do 

this,  and  yet  if  /  say  " 

"But  why  do  you  want  to  go,  when  we  can 
be  alone  here  together?" 

"This  will  be  for  us,"  Chloe  said,  "to 
announce  our  engagement." 

"All  we  need  for  us  is  us,"  Peter  said. 
"Why  should  we  go  dancing  around  with  a 
flock  of  strangers  in  the  house  of  this  man 
who's  " 

1  WENT  and  got  her  bags  and  brought  them 
with  Peter's  out  onto  the  portico.  I  was 
starting  for  the  car  when  Chloe  suddenly 
stepped  back  from  Peter,  looking  up  with  her 
pale  lips  parted. 

"How  many  years,"  he  was  saying,  as  deaf 
and  blind  is  Chloe  was  to  everything  around 
them,  "how  many  years  have  I  hung  around 
waiting  to  be  set  aside  every  time?  Now  you 
complain  that  I've  done  it  again,  come  run- 
ning again,  and  maybe  I  ought  to  wonder 
why  and  what  for  I've  come  these  thousands 
of  miles.  But  I  don't  wonder.  Because  now  I 
know  I  came  to  tell  you  I'm  bone-tired  and 
I'm  through !  I  came  to  say  I  wouldn't  marry 
you  if  you  were  the  last  woman  on  " 

"Peter ! "  Chloe  said,  but  without  finishing 
his  sentence  he  rushed  past  me  and  picked 
his  suitcase  off  the  steps. 

"Oh,  no,  oh  please,"  Chloe  gasped.  "Come 
back!"  But  her  choked-up  voice  was  faint, 
and  Peter  didn't  even  look  back  as  he  turned 
the  comer.  I  wanted  to  run  and  trip  him 
and  beat  him  when  he  fell. 

"How  will  he  .  .  .  without  money  " 

Chloe  was  saying.  "He  won't  be  able  " 

"Oh,  he'll  take  care  of  himself!"  I  said, 
but  then  I  saw  her  face  going  green  and  I 
ran.  And  when  I  got  to  her  I  held  her  head 
while  Chloe  vomited  into  the  gutter. 

Upstairs  in  the  apartment  I  fixed  her  some 
tea  and  suggested  that  she  take  a  rest.  But 
instead,  after  a  bath,  she  dressed  with  great 
care  and  sat  down  by  the  telephone.  At  tea- 
time  I  brought  her  some  soup.  They'd  worry 
at  the  castle,  I  said,  so  she  sent  a  telegram. 
Then  she  called  up  Mrs.  Bingham.  Chloe 
thought  Peter  might  go  to  the  embassy  to 
identify  himself  or  get  a  loan,  and  Mrs.  Bing- 
ham promised  her  that  each  attache  and 
secretary  and  servant,  and  everybody  at  the 
consulate  as  well,  would  be  instructed  to  call 
her  at  once  should  Peter  show  up. 

She  was  still  there  by  the  phone  in  the 
dark  when  I  came  back  to  light  the  lamps. 
Around  two  o'clock  I  heard  her  stirring,  get- 
ting ready  for  bed. 

(Continued  on  Page  176) 


"How  do  you  like  steak — charred, 
metlium  charred,  or  well  charred?" 


Shown 

on  opposite  page. 


CORAL  GABLES 
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ARIZONA 

Tucson  Jacome's 

CALIFORNIA 
Bakersfield  Weill's 


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Asbury  Park  Tepper's 

Elizabeth  Levy  Brothers 

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Newark  Hahne  &  Co. 

Plainlield  Tepper's 

Red  Bank  Sherman's 

Trenton  Yard's 


SEE  OPPOSITE  PACE  < 


Berkeley  J.  F.  Hink  &  Son 

Glendale  Webb's  of  Glendale 

Long  Beach  Buflums' 

Los  Angeles  Barker  Bros. 

Los  Angeles  The  Broadway 

Oakland  H.C.  Capwell's 

Pasadena  F.  C.  Nash  Co. 

San  Bernardino.  .The  Harris  Co. 

San  Diego  Whitney's 

San  Francisco. . .  The  Emporium 

San  Francisco  Macy's 

San  Jose  L.  Hart  &  Son 

COLORADO 

Colorado  Springs..  .Boston  Store 
Denver. .  .Denver  Dry  Goods  Co. 
Pueblo  Crews-Beggs 

CONNECTICUT 

New  Haven  Horowitz  Bros. 

DISTRICT  OF  COLUMBIA 

Washington  Lansburgh's 

ILLINOIS 

Chicago 

Marshall  Field  &  Company 
Chicago  Heights.  .The  Rau  Store 

Danville  Meis  Bros.,  Inc. 

Pekin  Schipper  &  Block  Co. 

Springfield 

The  John  Bressmer  Company 

INDIANA 

Elkhart  Ziesel  Bros. 

Evansville 

Senear's  Department  Store 

Fort  Wayne  Wolf  &  Dessauer 

'Hammond.  .Edward  C.  MinasCo. 
Terre  Haute  Meis  Bros.  Co. 

IOWA 

Burlington. .  .J.  S.  Schramm  Co. 

Cedar  Rapids  Craemer's 

Council  Bluffs 

The  John  Beno  Co. 

Davenport 

Petersen,  Harned  &  Von  Maur 

Fort  Dodge  Boston  Store 

Sioui  City..  .Vounker-Davidsons 

KANSAS 

Topeka  Pelletier's 

LOUISIANA 

Baton  Rouge. . .  .The  Dalton  Co. 
New  Orleans. Maison  Blanche  Co. 

MAINE 

Portland  Rines  Bros.  Co. 

MASSACHUSETTS 

Boston  T.  D.  Whitney  Co. 

Springfield  Forbes  &  Wallace 

Worcester  C.  T.  Sherer  Co. 

MICHIGAN 

Calumet  Vertin's 

Grand  Rapids  Wurzburg  Co. 

Muskegon 

Grossman's  Dept.  Store 

Saginaw  The  J.  W.  Ippel  Co. 

MINNESOTA 

Austin  Wallace's 

Duluth.  .The Edward  F.  Wahl  Co. 

Minneapolis  Powers 

St.  Paul  .-.  Emporium 

MISSISSIPPI 

Laurel  Carter-Heide.  Inc. 

MISSOURI 

Kansas  City . .  Emery-  Bird-Thayer 
St.  Joseph.  Townsend*  Wall  Co. 
SI.  Louis... Stii,  Baer  &  Fuller 

NEBRASKA 

Hastings  Brach's 

Lincoln  Gold's  of  Nebraska 

Omaha. .  .J.  L.  Brandeis  &  Sons 


NEW  YORK 

Albany  W  M.  Whitney  Co. 

Buffalo  Wm.  Hengerer  Co. 

New  York  B.  Altman  Co. 

Poughkeepsie 

Luckey,  Piatt  &  Co. 

Rochester 

Sibley.  Lindsay  &  Curr's 
Schenectady  .  .H.  S.  Barney  Co. 
Ulica  J.  B.  Wells  «  Son 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

Charlotte  .  .Belk  Bros.  Company 

Charlotte  J  B.  Ivey  &  Co. 

Durham  Ellis  Stone 

Greensboro  Ellis-  Stone 

Raleigh  Ivey-Taylor  Co. 

Winston-Salem 

Anchor  Company,  Inc. 
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Sosnik-Thalhimers 

NORTH  DAKOTA 

Fargo  0.  J.  OeLendrecie Co. 

OHIO 

Akron  The  M.  O'Neil  &  Co. 

Cincinnati.  The  H,  &  S,  PogueCo. 
Cleveland. The  Higbee  Company 
Columbus.  F  &  R.  Lazarus  &  Co. 

Dayton  Rike  Kumler  Co. 

Lima  Gregg's,  Inc. 

Lorain  Smith  &  Gerhart.  Inc. 

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Youngstown 

Strouss-Hirshberg  Co. 

OKLAHOMA 

Tulsa  Vandever's 

OREGON 

Portland  Meier  &  Frank 

PENNSYLVANIA 

Altoona  Wolf  Furniture  Co. 

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Pittsburgh . . .  .Joseph  Home  Co. 
Pittsburgh  Kaufmann's 

RHODE  ISLAND 

Providence  Claddings,  Inc. 

SOUTH  DAKOTA 

Sioux  Falls  Fantle  Bros. 

TENNESSEE 

Chattanooga. Miller  Brothers  Co. 

Memphis  Lowenslein's 

Nashville  H.  J.  Grimes 

TEXAS 

El  Paso 

Popular  Dry  Goods  Company 

VIRGINIA 

Lynchburg.  J.  R.  MillnerCo.,  Inc. 

Martinsville  Globman's 

Norfolk . .  W.  G.-  Swartz  Company 

Richmond  Miller  &  Rhoads 

Richmond. Thalhimer  Bros.,  Inc. 
Roanoke 

S.  H.  Heironimus  Company 

WASHINGTON 

Seattle  Frederick  &Nelson 

WEST  VIRGINIA 

Huntington  Bradshaw-Diehl 

Wheeling  L.  S.  Good  S  Co. 

WISCONSIN 

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I  II  lilci  I  -I.  S|iii  ,iil-  ;iiiil  ilr,i|»iiii-  III  w  oihIi  rliil  ni\\  \\o\i-ii 
fi  villus.    lowi  U  ;iiiil  -lii  i  l-  ;in<l  lil.iiiki  I-  tli.il  ni.ikr  ;iiis' 

liiiiiiloii'  look  !mii|,'iI.  Ii  ^  .'i>loiii-liiii^  liow  riiiK'li  lii'.-iiilv 
;iiiil  liiMirv  I  n  lilcir-l  liriii;^'^  \oii  loi-  -iicli  Iiiin  |iiirc-. 


Sheets  •  Tinrels  •  Herlyireaiis 
lilaiihets  •  I  lerlrir  llhinkels  '  Hosiery 
Kftruslfin  Ifitffs  '  Hay 


W  V  W 


Coro!  Gables  bedspread  in  green, 
brown,  terracotta,  charcoal  black 
or  turquoise  woven  cotton.  Twin  or 
full  size.  Matching  draperies  available, 

2':i  yds.  long  with  siinpleal  headings. 


FIELD  CREST     MILLS,      DIVISION      OF     MARSHALL     FIELD     S-     COMPANY,     inc.,     88      W  O  U  T  H      STREET,     NEW     YORK     13,     N  E  YORK 


176 


LADIES'       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  1953 


AMBER-EYED,  as-h-blonde,  spirited,  Mrs.  Herbert  Bayard  Swope,  Jr. 
of  New  York  and  Long  Island  is  a  delightful  subject  for  hair  stylist  Jungst 
of  the  Madison.  His  flair  is  for  an  easy  naturalness— with  a  difference. 

Society  Hair  Stylist  JUNGST 

of  the  Madison  says, 


"This  'babying'  shampoo  is  my  choice  for 
thrillingly  beautiful  Hair-dos.  It  is  Conti 
Shampoo,  rich  in  the  world's  tenderest 
cleansing  ingredient  for  the  kfir." 

TREAT  HAIR  TENDERLY  as  baby 
skin.  It  is  actually  a  part  of  the  tender, 
inner  skin.  Basic  ingredient  of  Conti 
shampoo  is  imported  olive  oil,  same  as 
used  in  beloved  Conti  Baby  Oil,  Conti 
Baby  Powder,  famed  Conti  Castile  Soap. 


Brilliantly  compounded  for  the  special 
needs  of  hair,  Conti  "babying"  sham- 
poo leaves  hair  just  right  for  obedient 
hair-dos.  Pure.  Safe.  Cannot  cause  dry- 
ing of  hair.  A  natural  oil  product  for 
your  hair's  natural  loveliness. 

QUICK,  EASY  ON  HAIR.  Conti's  fast 
small-bubble  lather  gets  into  greasy  hair 
freely.  Slips  out  as  easily.  Tender.  Wash 
hair  often  as  you  like  with  '"babying" 
CONTI  CASTILE  SHAMPOO.  Only  49  cents, 
regular  size.  89  cents,  family  size. 


WHAT  LAVOKS  DOES 

fcr  your  mouth  and  throat  makes  sense ! 


FOR    A    REALLY    CLEAN   MOUTH   AND  THROAT 


(Continued  from  Page  174) 

As  I  took  in  her  breakfast  tray  the  phone 
rang.  But  it  was  the  Prince,  calling  from 
Wickendon.  "No,"  Chloe  kept  saying.  Then, 
"I  don't  know,"  she  said  painfully.  So  I 
knew  the  Prince  had  asked  where  Peter  was. 
"Don't,"  she  said,  "please  don't!"  But  the 
Prince  had  hung  up.  "Konrad's  coming," 
she  told  me,  and  while  she  poured  her  coffee 
I  stood  thinking. 

Finally  I  said,  "Lord  Wickendon's  done 
for  now.  I  mean,  he'll  be  no  more  trouble. 
And  sooner  or  later,  sooner  or  later,  you'll 
have  to  see  your  mother." 

Chloe  looked  at  me,  not  surprised,  but  as 
if  we  were  just  meeting  after  a  long  time.  "All 
right,"  she  said,  "I'll  get  ready." 

•We  were  coming  into  St.  Albans  before 
she  exclaimed,  "We  forgot— Konrad ! " 
There  was  nothing  to  be  done,  I  told  her; 
he'd  have  taken  the  other  road,  it  being  so 
much  shorter. 

At  Aylesbury  Chloe  said  that  if  I  was  hun- 
gry we  would  stop,  though  she  wanted  no 
lunch  herself.  So  we  went  on.  But  around 
two  o'clock  we  came  to  an  inn,  and  without 
asking  her  leave  I  turned  into  its  short, 
graveled  driveway.  I  reminded  her  that  she'd 
eaten  nothing  with  her  coffee  that  morning, 
and  told  her  I'd  get  my  lunch  and  wait  for 
her. 

"Taw,"  she  said,  "will  you  please  have 
lunch  with  me?"  I  told  her  the  manage- 
ment mightn't  like  it,  but  she  said,  "/ 
would— I'd  like  it  especially,"  and  she  lifted 
my  cap  off  and  cast  it  over  her  shoulder 
into  the  back  seat.  Then  she  opened  her 
purse  and  took  out  a  little  comb,  and  after 
she  had  smoothed  her  hair  she  said,  "Here- 
lean  down."  Her  breath  was  on  my  cheek 
while  she  combed  my  hair.  And  when  she 
had  finished  I  went  around  and  opened  the 
door  for  her. 

Whatever  we  ate,  there  was  ale  with  it, 
which  helped  to  take  the  ghostly  look  from 
her  face,  and  she  offered  her  cigarette  case 
to  me,  and  we  smoked  together,  and  I  knew 
she  knew  my  silence  was  easy  and  for  her 
sake. 

"Taw,  am  I  all  right?"  she  asked  sud- 
denly. I  knew  what  she  meant,  but,  "Maybe 
I'm  worse — sicker,  I  mean — than  mummy," 
she  explained.  "When  I  wanted  to  stay  with 
daddy  I  went  to  Florence.  When  I  had  my 
jewels  to  sell,  I  came  back.  And  yesterday 
when  I  knew  what  was  happening,  instead  of 
taking  what  I  had  to  have,  I  made  it  impos- 
sible to  get." 

"Not  impossible,"  I  told  her. 

"You  heard  him,"  she  said.  And  although 
tears  sprang  in  her  eyes  and  made  her  fumble 
the  cigarette  case  I  didn't  say  any  more.  My 
hand  touched  hers,  picking  up  the  case,  and 
I  wasn't  able  to  argue  about  Peter  Mebane. 

"  When  I  was  little  and  ignorant  I  couldn't 
help  myself,"  she  went  on,  "but  after  I 
understood  her,  why  was  I  still  afraid  ?  Why 
did  I  come  with  her?" 

"You  were  not  just  afraid.  You  pitied 
her,"  I  said.  And  I  told  her  how  her  father 
and  I  once  talked  in  a  turkey  blind,  out 
hunting.  "He  tried  to  fire  me,"  I  said. 

"Because  he  knew  we  had  no  right  to 
keep  you." 

"But  I  had  a  right  to  stay,"  I  said. 

She  shook  her  head.  "You  ought  to  get 
up  now  and  walk  out  of  that  door.  If  you're 
worrying  about  paying  us  back,  you  don't 
owe  us  anything.  We  made  you  sick.  Some- 
how we  sicken  things." 

I  told  her  sharply  to  quit  talking  nonsense 
or  she  would  sicken  me  for  a  fact.  Anyway, 
what  would  I  eat  out  in  the  middle  of  the 
depression? 

"I'm  glad  I'm  here.  And  if  you  had  the 
manners  you  were  born  with,"  I  said,  "you'd 
say  you  were  too." 

I  caught  her  eye  then,  and  "How  d'you 
know  I'm  not  pining  for  dessert?"  I  de- 
manded. "You  never  offered  me  any." 

"You  didn't  bring  me  up  right,"  she  said. 

"Give  me  time,"  I  said.  And  there  we 
were,  laughing. 

Soon  after  three  o'clock  we  were  back  on 
the  road.  The  air  blowing  past  our  bare  heads 
smelled  of  new  clover  and  the  sun's  light  was 
softening  from  white  to  gold  and  minute  by 


minute  adding  depth  and  splendor  to  the 
sky.  We  were  gliding  down  between  the  lacy 
walls  of  a  beech  wood  when  the  magical 
color  began  glimmering  on  either  side  of  us. 
Chloe  leaned  out  toward  the  acreage  of 
bluebells  on  the  forest  floor.  "Taw!"  she 
cried.  "We  can't  just  go  by!"  I  put  on  the 
brakes  till  we  were  rolling  slowly.  "No,"  she 
said,  "stop,"  and  when  I'd  guided  the  car 
off  the  road  and  over  by  the  trees  she  opened 
the  door  herself  and  left  it  swinging.  At  the 
edge  of  that  misty  carpet  she  turned  back, 
beckoning,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

So  I  went  at  her  side  through  the  gray, 
still  maze  of  tree  stems,  under  young  leaves 
and  over  the  million-starred  grass. 

Chloe  knelt  down  where  a  patch  of  sun- 
shine glowed  up  from  the  ground  into  the 
green  twilight,  and  while  her  fingers  were 
still  quiet  amidst  the  flowers  I  handed  her 
the  sprig  I  had  picked,  for  I  was  kneeling  too. 

"Thank  you.  And  Taw,"  she  said,  and 
laid  the  flower  musingly  against  her  cheek, 
"thank  you  for  everything  all  my  life— all 
these  years,  I  mean." 

"  For  nothing,"  I  told  her,  who  now  leaned 
backward  on  her  hands,  sitting  amidst  the 
crisp,  secret  grass. 

"You  know  better  than  that,"  she  said 
while  I,  too,  sat,  and  pressed  my  own  hands 
on  the  ground  to  keep  from  trembling  and 
forced  my  eyes  to  look  past  her.  I  stared  up 
among  the  branches,  and  presently,  "  I  heard 
him— the  thrush,"  she  whispered,  "but  what 
is  it  now? " 

Then,  "Taw,  turn  around,"  she  said,  "you 
look  blind ! "  I  closed  my  eyes  and,  turning, 
felt  her  finger  tips  on  my  lids.  "There,"  she 
said  gently,  "there  now."  So  my  hands 
broke  away  and  came  up  to  take  her  little 
wrists  and  my  eyes  opened  into  her  grave, 
clear  gaze,  and  then  with  the  palms  of  her 
hands  clasped  together  between  my  own  I 
was  saying,  "I  love  you,"  and  she  was  nod- 
ding. 

"The  way  I  did  you,"  she  said,  "from  the 
beginning." 

"Not  that  way— no."  The  words  fell  out 
of  me  and  I  found  her  arms  under  my  hands 
and  her  face  coming  toward  me,  being  pulled 
toward  me  till  I  was  shocked  still  and  then 
lost,  left  staring  aghast. 

"It's  all  right,"  she  said,  and  her  tears 
came,  softly  and  terribly.  "  It's  all  right,"  she 
said  again  and  was  in  my  arms,  and  her  tears 
were  on  my  mouth  and  I  heard  her  saying 
"It's  so  .  .  .  lonely." 

"No,  not  any  more,"  I  said,  rocking  her, 
"not  now." 

And  then  it  was  silence  that  startled  me, 
silence  and  the  blue  rushing  up,  and  I  saw 
that  this  was  earth  and  the  blue  was  made  of 
flowers.  Gold  hair  streaked  over  these,  and 
the  gray  stuff  on  the  slender  mound  lying 
there  was  the  dress  on  her  body  and  "Yes," 
she  was  whispering,  "yes,"  as  I  looked  into 
her  face.  But  I  saw  the  slow  tears  dropping 
from  the  corners  of  her  closed  eyes.  Her 
mouth  drew  down  bitterly.  "  He  was  wrong ! " 
she  said. 

I  thought  the  ground  turned  icy,  for  the 
chill  struck  up  through  the  bones  of  my 
knees.  But  even  blind  and  in  anger  I  knew 
she  could  not  change  her  fixed  love — and  that 
if  I  took  her  I  would  scar  and  shame  us  both. 

I  heard  her  speak  to  me  as  I  got  up.  But 
standing,  holding  to  the  tree,  I  couldn't 
answer. 

I  must  have  been  halfway  back  to  the 
road  when  all  at  once  she  was  there  in  front 
of  me,  as  if  she'd  glided  sideways  out  of  the 
tree  that  was  as  slim  as  she  was. 

"Say  something,"  she  said,  and  I  asked  her 
to  forgive  me.  Looking  at  the  ground  I  told 
her  I'd  been  out  of  my  head. 

"But  you  loved  me!"  she  said,  and  I 
ought  somehow  to  have  spoken,  or  looked  at 
her.  But  I  couldn't.  "At  least  you  wanted 
me,"  she  said,  "you  still  do." 

I  managed  to  shake  my  head. 

"Once,"  she  said,  "you  told  me  you'd 
never  lie  to  me." 

And  when  I  raised  my  eyes  her  hand  was 
moving  out,  toward  the  place  where  we  had 
been.  "Were  you  lying  then?"  she  asked,  and 
she  wouldn't  look  away,  and  her  stricken 
eyes  dared  mine  to  leave  them,  and  because 


I 


I.  \  I) 


i: 


|ucFi  pain  ran  in  iny  amis  lliat  in  one  second 
lore  I  would  have  liad  lier  in  lliem,  "Miss 
lilof,"  I  said,  "I'm  sorry.  I'm  sorry,  Miss 
liloc.  Try  to  forni'.e  me." 
Slie  slciipcfl  backward  llun.  and  when  I 
;ot  my  breath  a^;ain,  wlicii  I  opened  my 
Inoulli.  slie  said,  "No.  Ncrtr  mind  "  And 
iirned  and  was  none,  rlmnin^;. 

When  I  reached  I  he  car  slie  was  in  I  he  I  )a(  l< 
ca(,  smoking  a  ci^ari'tte.  She  had  rolled  up 
he  n'ass  i)arlition,  and  she  turned  her  head 
.way  when  I  looked  in  at  her. 

So  I  put  on  the  cap  slie  had  laitl  on  the 
ront  seal,  anrl  we  came  to  VV  ickendon  Ix  tore 
undowii. 

I  opened  the  door  and  she  bnislicd  |)ast  me 
nd  ran  up  the  old  iinmi'nse  stone  sti'ps. 
k'fore  I  could  ^ive  her  ha^s  to  tiie  footman 
Ik'  vanished  thiounh  the  doorway. 

At  midni^;lll  l)ack  at  the  (."onnau^^ht  I  tried 

0  slij)  in  (luielly.  I  IhouKht  the  Prince  mi^ht 
till  he  waiting  there.  He  wasn't,  thou^;h. 
I'hey  said  he'd  harried  everybody  with  (|ues- 
lons  until  linally  the  porter  had  told  him 
vhere  we  were  none. 

It  was  the  next  Monday  morning  that  1 
vas  walkin^;  in  the  Strand  and  saw  the  word 
lEIKESS  in  the  boxed,  small  headline  and 
)ou.nht  the  paper. 

'I'here  were  no  pictures  with  the  arlick'.  It 
aid: 

On  Saturday  evening;  the  Dowager  Countess 
iiul  her  Kraiulsoii  the  Earl  of  Wickenck)n  ^avc 

1  (lance  at  \Vickcn(k)n  Castle  in  honor  of  Mrs. 
allies  Talc  Ileyward  of  New  York  and  North 
arolina  and  her  dauKhtcr,  Chloe.  This  occa- 
um  marked  the  announcc- 

iHiil  of  Miss  1  ley  ward's  cn- 
•ajjemcnt  to  Ise  married  to 
'rince  Konrad  von  Abcns- 
>ern. 


The  grand  essentials  of 
happiness  are  something 
to  do,  something  to  love 
and  something  to  hope  for. 

—CHALMERS 


"You've  not  to  have  (it- 
int;s!"  Mrs.  Heyward 
elled  into  the  telephone. 

'It's  your  own  trousseau !"  ~ 

kit  Chloe  said  the  dress- 

nakers  knew  her  measure-  S_J  CJ  ti!  li-  L_» 

nents,  and  she  didn't  need 

)r  want  any  more  clothes  anyway.  Chloe 
Uayed  away,  going  with  the  Prince  to  visit 

he  people  w^ho  invited  them  to  Dublin. 
Mrs.  Heyward,  as  soon  as  she'd  reached 

.ondon,  alone  and  by  train,  had  me  drive 

R'r  to  the  solicitor's  office  where  she  began 

o  make  the  arrangements  about  the  money 

hat  w-ould  be  turned  over  to  the  Prince. 
Jhloe.  who  wanted  nothing  but  a  civil  cere- 
■nony,  had  agreed  to  let  her  mother  give 
A'hat  would  surely  be  the  season's  if  not  the 
vvorld's  smallest,  most  exclusive  wedding, 
.'hloe  was  to  be  married  in  the  sitting  room 

It  high  noon  of  the  day  after  her  presenta- 
tion to  their  Majesties,  and  there  would  be 
three  wedding  guests:  the  Dowager  Countess 
and  the  Earl  of  Wickendon  and  the  King's 
son,  the  Royal  Duke. 

Mrs.  Heyward  had  grown  noticeably  thin- 
ner in  her  one  week  at  Wickendon.  She  ate 
poorly,  and  because  of  the  rate  at  which  the 
sleeping  pills  were  disappearing  I  threw  the 
whole  bottle  of  them  away.  But  there  was  a 
new  bottle  the  next  day.  I  found  it  where  it 
had  rolled  under  the  bed  and  set  it  on  the 
table.  I  don't  know  where  she  hid  it  after 
that. 

Chloe  and  the  Prince  arrived  from  Ireland 
late  at  night,  after  Mrs.  Heyward  had  sent 
me  downstairs,  and  Chloe  brought  a  maid 
with  her  who  took  her  breakfast  tray  out  of 
my  hands  the  next  morning  and  who  stayed 
packing  all  day  while  Chloe  rested  behind 
the  closed  door  of  her  room.  The  woman 
from  Truefitt's  went  in  to  do  her  hair,  and 
the  woman  from  Hartnell's  went  in  with  her 
Court  clothes.  But  when  I  brought  up  an 
early  tea  and  Mrs.  Heyward  opened  Chloe's 
door  calling,  "Look,  Taw!  Look  at  this," 
"No,"  I  heard  Chloe  say,  "not  just  now," 
and  the  maid  closed  the  door. 

The  New  Y'ork  Times  was  to  photograph 
Chloe  in  the  sitting  room  at  five-fifteen,  and 
the  Associated  Press  at  five-thirty.  But  by 
then  I'd  gone  to  the  Savoy  Hotel  to  call  for 
Miss  Nancy  Anne  Stringfellow. 

At  the  embassy's  suggestion  Senator  Asa 
Stringfellow's  daughter  was  riding  with  Chloe 
and,  according  to  Court-going  custom,  Mrs. 


ileyward  had  hired  a  f(X)linan  lo  o|)c-n  the 
d(K)r  of  the  Rolls  and  sil  sliHly  tx-side  nie. 
dressed  up  in  ihe  sarne  kind  of  urays  I  was 
wearing. 

The  glilteriiig  (illel  ihal  lieUI  three  plumes 
lo  the  head  of  Miss  Nancy  Anne  Slrin^- 
fellow  was  iHcominn  lo  her  |xtI,  pretty, 
lainlly  monkeylike  face.  She  was  pleased 
with  herself,  and  had  a  right  lo  tx-,  .and  it  was 
nearly  pathetic,  her  blank,  slablx-d  look 
when  she  saw  CUUh-  float ing  onto  llic  |)orlico 
at  the  Connanghl. 

the  ruli's  I  should  have  kepi  my  seal  at 
Ihe  wheel.  Hut  I  had  got  out  so's  Chloe 
would  have  lo  see  me  :ind  give  nie  some  sign. 
I'd  pl.inned  lo  say  something  ordinary  and 
touch  my  cap  to  her.  Hut  then  she  came  and 
I  couldn't,  for  there  was  thai  in  me  which 
Ik  w  straight  up,  that  sprang  up  alive  out  of 
the  ashy  heap  of  me  and  all  my  days  since  I 
had  denied  that  1  wanted  her. 

I  stood  while  she  came  down  smiling  her 
mouth  at  me,  and  her  eyes  were  as  far  and 
l)ale  as  winter  sky,  I  thought  at  first.  Hut 
then  she  was  abreast  of  me,  l(K)king  at  me, 
saying,  "Taw,  you  you're  thin," saying  this 
with  tears  suddenly  brimming  in  her  eyes. 

" Lii'hclicn,"  said  the  Prince's  voice,  "will 
you  help  this  young  man?"  and,  "Just  one 
more.  Miss  Heyward,  please,"  said  the  pho- 
tographer on  the  steps,  "just  one  of  you  two 
together."  And  the  Prince  took  her  arm  as 
Chloe  looked  around  and  the  Hash  went  off. 

Mrs.  Ileyward  and  the  maid  and  the 
porter  raised  their  hands  against  the  late 
sunlight  to  sec  her  in  the 
^nf-^r-Tir-»     filmy  stuff  that  was  blue 
foam  on  the  ground  and 
from  there  rose  glimmering 
into  wliite,  wreathing  her 
shoulders    and  blending 
with  the  veil  and  making 
those  feathers  as  natural- 
seeming,  as  lovely  and  un- 
avoidable as  the  crest  of 
any  wave  or  cloud.  Then 
the  f(X)tman  was  picking 
up  the  transparent,  rainy-spangled  shaft 
that  was  her  train  while  the  I'rince  handed 
her  to  the  car.  The  maid  laid  on  her  lap  a 
spray  of  starry  flowers. 

The  Prince  blew  her  a  kiss  as  we  drove  off. 
"Why,  Chlo-cy,"  said  Miss  Stringfellow, 
who'd  been  somewhat  restored.  "He's  dali- 
ling,  and  he's  just  crazy  about  you!  I  can't 
wait  to  show  poppa!  I  get  so  ti-abd  hearing 
him  1. oiler  about  how  I  better  never  let  him 
catch  me  paying  any  mind  to  these  fortune 
hunters." 

Our  back  windows  were  closed  to  keep  the 
girls'  hair  from  blowing,  but  the  late  June 
weather  was  heavy,  so  the  glass  partition 
was  rolled  down  to  allow  them  some  air. 
Thus  the  footman  and  I  heard  all  about  the 
various  men  Miss  Stringfellow  had  got  en- 
gaged to  on  the  Aquitania. 

Because  we  were  following  right  behind 
the  embassy  car  the  bobbies  let  us  into  the 
Mall  near  its  end,  not  far  from  Buckingham 
Palace. 

When  the  iron  gates  opened  and  we  moved 
in  to  wait  in  the  Palace  Quadrangle  the  foot- 
man clung  jealously  lo  his  job  of  serving  the 
Thermosed  coffee  lo  the  girls.  I  saw  the  glit- 
tering men  on  the  gleaming  horses  and  heard 
the  footman  name  them,  the  Guard  of 
Honor  from  the  First  Battalion,  Scots 
Guards. 

I  saw  the  gentlemen  visiting  from  car  to 
car,  I  saw  how  elegant  even  the  paunchy  or 
skinny  ones  looked  in  those  black  silk  stock- 
ings and  knee  breeches  and  swallow-tailed, 
diamond-buttoned  coats.  I  saw  the  gold- 
shouldered  tall  officers  who  came  by  with 
their  long  tartan  trousers  strapped  under 
their  feet  and  the  sheiks  from  whose  silver- 
banded  lieads  the  white  fine  cloth  flowed 
down. 

And  when  Chloe  had  gone  into  blazing 
light  inside  the  handsome,  many-windowed 
pile  of  stone  and  while  I  waited  the  car  down 
by  St.  James'  Palace  I  still  saw  that  scene. 

It  was  near  eleven  o'clock  before  the  call 
came  through  for  our  car  to  go  back. 

"I  had  to  come  all  the  way  to  Bucking- 
ham Palace  to  drink  with  a  nigra."  Miss 
Stringfellow  said.  "This  crazy  little  man 


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handed  us  champagne  at  the  same  time  and 
he  raised  his  glass  to  me,"  said  Miss  String- 
fellow,  who  was,  as  I  later  found  out,  re- 
ferring to  His  Excellency  Bajirond  Tekla 
Hawrariat,  Envoy  Extraordinary  and  Min- 
ister Plenipotentiary  from  the  Court  of 
Ethiopia.  Of  the  Queen,  "So  northern,"  Miss 
Stringfellow  said. 

Inside  of  a  few  minutes  we  were  coming 
into  the  crescent-shaped  tunnel  of  the  Sa- 
voy's porte-cochere.  Chloe  made  no  sound 
herself,  but  the  sudden  way  she  started  for- 
ward brought  a  screech  out  of  Miss  String- 
fellow,  and  at  first  I  was  frightened.  Then  I 
saw  him.  Peter.  He  was  searching  haggardly 
into  the  car  ahead  of  us.  We  were  moving  up, 
still  rolling,  but  the  door  in  back  flung  open 
and,  when  I  braked,  slammed  shut  again, 
and  I  heard  the  crunch  of  spangles  and  the 
tearing  sound  as  Chloe  left  half  of  her  train 
behind  her. 

The  footman  sat  open-mouthed,  keeping 
as  still  a_  the  people  who  stood  on  the  steps 
and  those  others  who'd  just  come  through 
the  revolving  doors.  Amidst  the  hush  that 
came  and  caught  the  doorman's  rising  hand 
and  held  it  in  mid-air  Chloe  was  gathered 
into  Peter's  arms. 

After  that  and  inside  of  a  second  the  tun- 
nel was  filled  with  haste.  Chloe  and  Peter 
moved  as  one  person,  skimming  away  across 
the  steps.  They  reached  the  tunnel's  mouth 
and  "Taxi!"  Peter  cried.  "Taxi!"  and  the 
jagged  remains  of  Chloe 's  train  flashed  back- 
ward, and  they  were  gone. 

"Of  all  the  rude,  crazy— sAe's  crazy!" 
Miss  Stringfellow  said,  stumbling  out  against 
the  footman.  "What  goes 
on?  Who  was  that?"  she      V H HI  Wi 
asked  me.  Nothing,  I  told 
her,  and  that  was  an  old 
friend,  I  said,  just  an  old         ^""'^^  9***  **» 
dear  friend  from  North        flrowmg,  no 
Carolina.  "Are  you  crazy  y^"''  s"""" 

too?  Or  do  you  think  / 
am  ? "  Miss  Stringfellow  de- 
manded. 

"  No,  miss,"  I  answered, 
and  the  doorman  being  wild  because  of  all  the 
cars  banking  up  behind,  "Sorry,  miss,"  I  said, 
and  drove  off. 

It  took  me  a  while  to  get  rid  of  the  foot- 
man, who  contended  he'd  been  hired  for  the 
night.  He  said  his  next  job  depended  on  his 
being  on  the  box  at  two  o'clock  when  I  was 
due  to  call  back  at  the  Savoy  for  Mrs 
Heyward.  At  last  I  gave  him  all  I  had,  a 
whole  pound,  and  put  him  out  in  Piccadilly. 
Then  I  parked  the  Rolls  where  I  could  get 
to  it  fairly  quickly  and  ran  to  the  Connaught. 
I  was  just  getting  a  good  deep  breath  in  the 
sitting  room  when  Mrs.  Heyward  caught  up 
with  me. 

"You  damned  rascal,"  she  said,  "why 
didn't  you  follow  their  taxi?  Or  at  least  send 
the  man  in  to  get  my  orders?  /  had  to  take  a 
taxi!" 

I  said,  "There  was  nothing  I  could  do, 
madam,  and  I  thought  to  come  here— some- 
body ought  to  be  here,  I  thought,  in  case  

Still  there's  nothing,  I  guess— nothing  to  do." 

But  this  was  no  good.  Mrs.  Heyward  was 
thinking  the  same  thing  I  was:  that  they 
couldn't  get  far;  that  Peter,  who'd  existed 
these  weeks  on  a  few  pounds,  must  be  near 
penniless  now;  that  all  they'd  have  would  be 
what  Chloe  could  provide. 

So  she  rustled  and  glittered  straight  to 
Chloe's  room.  In  the  doorway  she  turned. 
"What've  you  got?  How  much?" 

Nothing,  I  told  her,  and  at  her  look,  "The 
footman  has  the  pound  I  had.  I  lost  a  bet," 
I  said,  and  turned  out  my  pockets. 

The  angle  of  the  wall  mirror  in  Chloe's 
room  let  me  see  Mrs.  Heyward  in  there, 
emptying  the  little  money  from  Chloe's 
purses  into  her  own  evening  bag.  The  emer- 
ald ring  and  the  pearls  were  in  a  bureau 
drawer,  and  when  she  had  put  these  in  with 
the  money  she  started  to  come  out  again. 
But  her  eye  fell  on  the  trunk  and  suitcases 
packed  with  Chloe's  rich  clothes,  and  then 
she  was  gone,  to  lock  the  outer  door  of  Chloe's 
room.  The  key  went  into  her  purse,  too,  when 
she  came  back  and  locked  the  other  door  be- 
hind her.  "Hadn't  you  better  sit  down, 
madam?"  I  asked.  "You  look  so   "  I 


PHI  Ml 

do  your  own 
matter  how 
dfather  was. 

—ANON. 


broke  off,  as  if  hating  to  describe  what  I  saw, 
and  made  for  the  bar  in  her  room. 

"Come  on.  come  on!"  she  said.  "  Where'i 
your  cap?" 

"Just  one  second,"  I  called,  and 

madam,  madam  "  I  said  when  I 

back.  And  when  I  held  out  the  brandy 
took  it.  "You  need  it,"  I  said,  and  she 
down,  drinking. 

We  both  jumped  at  the  sound  of 
phone.  I  was  halfway  to  it,  but  "Oh  no.  /I 
handling  this,"  she  said  and  surged  up 
past  me  into  her  room.  I  saw  the  bag  lyij 
beside  the  glass.  My  fingers  came  first  onto 
the  emerald.  The  pearls  tangled  with  the 
key.  But  I  got  them— and  the  key  put  back— 
and  I  was  there  in  no  time,  standing  in  her 
sight,  in  the  doorway. 

1  TELL  you,"  she  was  telling  the  Prince, 
"since  the  Wickendons  aren't  there,  thank 
God,  we  can  carry  it  off.  Chloe's  sprained  her 
ankle.  Badly.  And  the  wedding  will  be  slightly 
postponed.  Don't  you  see?  Oh,  hush,  I'll  bt 
there  in  a  few  minutes.  .  .  .  What?  But  I  told 
you  to  stay  there!  At  least  one  of  us 
Now  go  on,  get  in  the  car!" 

"Madam,"  I  put  in,  and  was  told  to  shi 
up.  "But  madam,  the  car's  not  here, 
thought  under  the  circumstances  you  might 
want  the  car  to  be  so  .  .  .  accessible." 

"Oh  God,  men!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said,  ai 
into  the  phone,  "Get  a  taxi.  Well,  keep 
there  then!  I'll  be  right  down.  Wait— hell 
Put  me  on  to  the  clerk." 

While  she  told  the  clerk  that  no  money 
hers  was  to  be  advanced  to  anyone,  I  looki 
around  the  room.  Bi 
whatever  jewels  she  didi 
have  on  had  been  se 
back  downstairs,  as  usu; 
to  the  safe.  Anyway, 
soon  as  she  hung  up 
locked  the  outer  door  o" 
her  room. 

I  stayed  there  in  th( 
apartment,  trying  thi 
main-door  key  on  eacl 
of  Chloe's  doors,  working  feverishly.  As  i 
now,  when  my  own  eyes  had  seen  how  Chlcn 
went  with  Peter,  as  if  now  her  life  or  salva 
tion  could  be  determined  by  anything  to  d( 
with  getting  hold  of  some  clothes  or  jewels 
In  the  second  of  Chloe's  doors,  the  sitting 
room  one.  the  key  stuck  fast.  I  yanked  at  i 
and  shaking  the  door  I  missed  hearing  th 
other  one  that  opened. 

"I  expect  you  know,"  the  Prince  saic 
"that  you  are  too  far  out  of  character.  Whic 
is  never  amusing." 

I  turned  around  and  tried  to  think  h 
looked  just  like  that  cigarette  advertisement 
that  polished-up  charming  de  Reske  mai 
But  I  understood  the  even,  steel-spring  step 
and  the  white  flicker  in  his  eyes.  "Put 
down."  I  said. 

"Hardly,"  he  said  easily.  But  he  stoppe 
there,  a  few  feet  off,  holding  to  his  ebon 
stick. 

"Just  hand  them  to  me,"  he  said,  "an 
we'll  say  no  more  about  this  farce." 

"They're  not  yours." 

"Nor  yours,"  he  said  and  in  a  flash  rai 
the  stick.  My  hand  went  to  my  right-sic 
pocket  and  he  laughed.  Nearly  within  arm 
reach  now,  and  with  the  lowered  stic 
grasped  further  down,  "  It  will  be  better,"  I 
said,  "if  you  just  give  them  to  me." 

I  backed  off,  and  stepped  sideways  as  if  1 
get  out  around  him.  And  when  he  moved  t 
close  in  I  grabbed.  I  got  the  wrist  of  the  har 
that  was  wielding  the  stick,  to  twist  till  tli 
stick  clattered  down,  even  being  startled  <i 
the  strength  he  had  and  knowing  myself  ne;' 
overmatched.  "Yes,"  he  said,  "we  have! 
score  to  settle.  You  think  I  could  not  guess? I 
I  had  no  breath.  But  he  got  his  won! 
through  his  teeth,  past  his  drawn-back  lip 
"I  do  not  lightly— accept  it— that  you  fir 
had  her  favors." 

I  must  have  been  moving  backward  the 
because  the  blow  to  my  stomach  was  pit 
less,  spent,  and  the  first  pain  I  felt  was  th 
one  striking  up  my  arm  from  my  sp 
knuckles.  They  were  split,  I  believed,  havii 
heard  the  splitting  sound  where  they  car 
against  the  head,  against  that  brittle  pla 
(Continued  on  Page  180) 


Jl 


\    1 1    I  I 


II     I  I     M     I  III 


li      \     \  I. 


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180 


LADIES"       HOME  JOURNAL 


May,  195 


No  comb-scratcK 


No  torn  hair 


Ace  does  very  well 


Up  there ! 


Indeed  it  does!  In  fact  Ace 
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because  its  teeth  ore  care- 
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Hard  Rubber,  strong  Ace 
Combs  cost  less  because  they 
last  longer.  For  good  groom- 
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ACE 

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COMBS 


(Cofilinued  from  Page  178) 
which  seemed  almost  to  fit  round  them  there, 
between  the  eye  and  ear. 

I  saw  it.  The  blue  bulge  of  eye  and  the  jaw 
faUing,  and  then  the  whole  form  slanting  out 
long  on  the  air,  going  down,  banging  down. 
But  I  stood  with  the  aching  bones  of  my  one 
hand  in  the  other.  I  stood  bewildered  to  feel 
the  knuckle  flesh  whole,  and  afterwhile  I 
found  that  I  was  staring  at  Mrs.  Heyward. 

She  was  in  the  open  doorway  and  a  queer 
sound  was  coming  out  from  behind  her  white 
face.  Because  she  knew  it  before  I  did.  She 
knew  before  I  did  that  he  was  dead. 

"My  Lord,"  Sir  Gilbert  CuUings  said,  "  my 
learned  friend  has  been  unable  to  produce 
one  witness  who  would  or  could  give  testi- 
mony in  any  way  damaging  to  the  character 
of  the  defendant.  Indeed,  the  words  under 
oath  of  his  employer,  of  her  daughter  and  of 
Mr.  Mebane  as  well,  all  of  whom  have  known 
the  defendant  intimately  for  fifteen  years, 
have  revealed  to  us  a  picture  of  " 

"Of  an  impossible  paragon,  my  Lord!" 
Mr.  Hancock  said,  jumping  up.  Mr.  Han- 
cock, the  Senior  Treasury  Counsel,  the  prose- 
cutor, said,  "  I  submit  that  if  under  natural 
circumstances  a  man  come  to  trial,  there  will 
be  someone  " 

"Order,  sir!"  the  Judge  said. 

But  Sir  Gilbert  said,  "I  will  yield,  if  it 
please  my  Lord,  I  will  for  the  moment  yield 
to  my  learned  friend." 

So  Mr.  Hancock  asked  had  there  ever 
been  an  honest  and  open  man  of  whom  noth- 
ing derogatory  could  be  said.  Of  course,  he 
remarked,  he  was  momentarily  excluding  the 
defendant's  own  testimony,  for  this  was, 
he  submitted,  derogatory.  Because  it  was,  he 
submitted,  not  only  an  unlawful  but  an  evil 
thing  to  do  as  the  defendant  had  been 
obliged  to  admit  he  had  done,  to  smash  one's 
fist  against  a  man's  temple  in  anger  and  so 
kill  him. 

"//,"  Mr.  Hancock  said,  "if  as  this  man 
contends,  he  did  not  intend  unlawfully  to 
retain  the  jewels  for  himself,  why  did  he  en- 
gage in  such  combat?  He  was  attacked,  he 
claims,  by  the  slain  man.  In  this  matter  as  in 
nearly  every  grave  aspect  of  the  crime  that 
confronts  us  we  have  nothing  but  the  defend- 
ant's word  and  the  opinion  of  others.  Of  his 
employer,  for  instance.  She  tells  us  that  if  she 
had  known  that  the  defendant  had  found 
them  and  taken  them  into  his  safekeeping, 
she  would  not  have  asked  Prince  von  Aben- 
sperg  to  go  in  search  of  these  valuable  arti- 
cles which  she  in  haste  had  mislaid.  The  de- 
fendant, she  believes,  is  incapable  of  thievery 
and  the  killing  a  result,  merely,  of  misunder- 
slanding.  We  still  have  nothing  but  an  opin- 
ion as  to  whether  or  not  the  defendant  was 
caught  in  the  act  of  stealing.  The  wonder,  it 
seems  to  me,  my  Lord,  is  that  he  should  find 
himself  charged  with  manslaughter  instead 
of  murder." 

"You  have  already  once  made  your  sum- 
mation." the  Judge  remarked.  "This  is  mere 
repetition,  sir." 

"So  far,  my  Lord,  yes,"  Mr.  Hancock  said, 
"but  in  my  summation  I  did  not  specifically 
call  attention  to  the  abnormal  perfection 
which  we  are  asked  to  believe  stands  before 
us  in  the  person  of  the  defendant.  Does  this 
correspond  to  the  known  facts?  No.  The  de- 
fendant cannot— zf/W  not— tell  us  why  he 
wanted  to  be  rid  of  the  footman.  Would  a 
superior  man  have  bribed  or  browbeat  the 
footman  to  the  quittance  of  his  duty  as  this 
defendant  evidently  did?  Every  attempt  to 
draw  from  the  defendant  a  frank,  full  ac- 
count of  what  passed  between  himself  and 
the  slain  man  has  been  met  first  with  eva- 
sions and  finally  come  up  against  an  impene- 
trable wall.  This,  I  submit,  is  not  the  be- 
havior of  a  paragon— who  would  have  noth- 
ing to  hide." 

Sir  gilbert  was  smiling,  whispering  with 
his  junior  counsel,  and  he  got  up  easily.  But 
I  knew  that  the  way  he  felt  was  angry.  Not 
with  Mr.  Hancock  but  with  me. 

He  would  not  argue  my  case,  he  had  said, 
that  first  morning  when  Mrs.  Heyward  and 
Lady  Wickendon  brought  him  to  the  cells. 
He  said  the  solicitor  would  have  to  find  an- 
other barrister  if  I  refused  to  tell  him  fully 


how  I  came  to  kill  the  Prince.  "The  stick 
was  on  the  floor,  you  say.  Therefore  you 
were  not  and  knew  you  were  not  in  mortal 
danger  at  the  moment  when  you  struck  this 
blow.  What  did  he  do?  What  did  he  say?  I 
demand  that  you  tell  me  what  happened." 
"And  /  do,"  Mr.  Ailing,  the  solicitor,  put 

in. 

So  again,  "He  tried  to  take  Miss  Chloe's 
things.  He  came  after  me  with  that  stick,"  I 
said. 

"  He  was  her  fiance,"  Mr.  Ailing  reminded 
me.  "  Wh^  did  you  not  willingly  hand  them 
over?  In  short— why  did  you  kill  him?" 

"I  told  you,"  I  said,  "it  was  an  accident." 

"And  had  a  cause,"  Sir  Gilbert  insisted. 
"For  the  last  time,  what  maddened  you?" 

"  I  guess,"  I  said,  "  I'll  have  to  get  another 
lawyer." 

"Sir  Gilbert  is  the  best  I  can  do.  Taw," 
Lady  Wickendon  said.  "The  best,  in  fact, 
that  can  be  done." 

"Thank  you,  Margaret,"  Sir  Gilbert  said 
acidly,  "but  before  you  get  me  out  of  bed  on 
a  fool's  errand  again  you'd  better  " 

"Wait,  Gilbert,"  Lady  Wickendon  said. 
She  went  to  where  Sir  Gilbert  was  already  at 
the  cell's  door  and  took  hold  of  his  arm. 
"Wait,"  she  said,  "because  I  believe  you  are 
going  to  take  this  case.  I  think  you'll  take  it 
because  you  are  a  just  man,  and  you  feel 
that  Taw  is  not  a  criminal.  Because  you  be- 
lieve him,  that  it  was  an  accident."  While  he 
stood  giving  her  his  tired,  hostile  stare,  "And 
you  are  a  vain  man  too,"  she  said,  "so  it  will 
certainly  please  you  to  get  him  off  when  no- 
body else  could  do  it." 

"For  God's  sake  let  me  have  coffee!"  Sir 
Gilbert  called  out  to  the  astonished  gaoler. 
"Get  somebody  to  bring  it !"  he  said  so  bit- 
terly that  the  gaoler  turned  the  key  and 
trotted  off. 


Sir  Gilbert  came  away  from  the  door  an< 
motioned  me  to  sit  down  beside  Mr.  Ailing 

I  was  wondering  if  Chloe  would  have  com'' 
back  yet,  and  I  thought  Mrs.  Heyw^nl 
ought  to  have  some  of  the  coffee  before  Lad:| 
Wickendon  led  her  away.  But  she  refused  i 
and  went  off,  dragging  her  feet.  I  couldn'| 
stop  imagining  her  going  back,  alone,  inti 
the  sitting  room. 

When  I  had  looked  up  at  her  there  a  fe\ 
hours  earlier,  when  first  I  recognized  he 
beyond  the  sprawled  body  on  the  floor,  \\ 
thought  she  was  going  to  run  away  scream 
ing.  But  instead  my  dazed  eyes  had  seen  he 
hands  come  down  from  her  chalky  face  an( 
clench  into  fists.  And  then  I  saw  such  ange 
flaring  and  lighting  the  pits  of  her  eyes  that 
expected  she  would  come  to  strike  and  cla\ 
me  for  this  ruin  I  had  made  of  all  her  schemes 
She  hadn't  seen  Chloe's  face  looking  at  Peter 
and  she  couldn't  realize  how  useless  her  strug 
gle— and  how  needless  my  own— had  be 
come.  I  just  stood,  amazed  at  her  stillness 
She  drew  a  long,  deep  breath,  and  anothe 
and  another,  and  I  gaped  to  see  the  tear 
that  streamed  from  her  eyes.  I  knew  she  di( 
not  grieve  for  the  Prince.  But  I  didn't  thai 
take  in  the  nature  of  those  tears  that  fel 
down  unheeded  and  even  without  her  knowl 
edge. 

"Yo\x  fool,"  she  said.  "What'll  you  gaL 
when  they  hang  you?" 

I  shook  my  head.  "I  didn't  mean  to." 

She  was  giving  me  a  curious,  scomfu 
glance  when  suddenly  her  face  altered.  Sh 
said,  "You'll  do  anything,  won't  you?  You'l 
steal  and  " 

"You  were  the  one  who  was  stealing,' 
I  said. 

I  couldn't  see  her  face  turned  away  fror 
me  and  from  that  place  where  the  Princ 

(Ccmtinucd  on  Page  1X2} 


/I 


WHEN  Stella  Werner,  of  Chevy 
Chase,  Maryland,  ran  for  Congress 
2000  volunteers  lent  a  hand.  Most  were 
women,  many  with  small  children.  Tod- 
dlers played  in  the  impromptu  nursery 
at  "campaign  headquarters"— the  Wer- 
ner family  dining  room.  "Our  husbands 
and  children  were  the  unsung  heroes," 
says  Mrs.  Werner,  discussing  plans  with 
lone  man  above.  Granddaughter,  Stella 
III,  learned  to  walk  in  the  office  managed 
by  her  mother,  Stella  II  (Mrs.  LeRoy 
Allison,  Jr.).  Mr.  Werner  built  the  office 


workbench;  16-year-old  Mary's  contri- 
bution was  cooking  dinner.  A  Democrat, 
Mrs.  Werner  is  the  first  woman  in  Mary- 
land to  be  nominated  for  Congress. 
Though  defeated  in  November,  she  ran 
ahead  of  her  ticket,  is  proud  that  they 
wound  up  sol  vent . "  Women  who  struggle 
with  household  budgets  aren't  the  ones 
to  go  off  the  deep  end,"  she  says.  Her 
term  on  the  Montgomery  County 
Council  runs  two  more  years;  after 
that  her  plans  call  for  "meeting  the 
future  as  it  comes." 


I.    \    t>    I     I        •       II    n    \l    I,       I    «>    (     l(    N    \    I,  Ittl 


It  always  pays  to  be  careful, 

especially  when  you're  buying  a  cotton  dress 

that  may  shrink  out  of  fit. 


So,  before  you  buy  your  next  cotton, 
take  an  extra  second  to  look  for  the 
"Sanforized"  label.  Make  even  your  favorite 
salesgirl  show  you  the  "Sanforized"  label. 

Then  you  know  shrinkage  woes  can  never 
happen  to  you!  You  know  your  cottons  can't 
shrink  out  of  fit  .  .  .  out  of  style! 

Cluett,  Peabody  &  Co.,  Inc.  permits  use  of  its  trade-mark  "Sanforized,"  adopted  in  1930,  only  on  fabrics  whicb  meet  this  company's  rigid  shrinliage  requirements.  Fabrics  bearing  the 

trade-mark  "Sanforized"  will  not  shrink  more  than  1%  by  the  Government's  standard  test. 


182 


LADIES 


II    O    M  i; 


J    O    L    R    iN    A  L 


May,  i  9.5,1 


EXPOSE 

your  own 

natural 

beauty 


FOUND  ATION 


This  IS  the  new  makeup 
that  s  cream-misted 
to  go  on  smoother  —  last  longer 
make  you  look  prettier 
from  the  moment  you  put  it  on. 
Sheer  Beauty  Liquid  Foundation 
6  shades,  1.25  and  1.75  ipiu-.ta-i 

PARIS     LOfJnP.t.'  fjryjvf^oi- 


(Conlinufd  from  Page  ISO) 
lay,  but  her  shoulders  grew  still  between  my 
hands.  "If  it  would  do  any  good,"  she  said, 
"I'd  let  them  hang  you."  Her  ravaged  face 
came  around  slowly.  "But  as  it  is,"  she  said, 
"get  your  hands  off  me!"  And  she  went  di- 
rectly to  unlocking  the  doors. 

"Now  call  for  a  doctor  and  the  police," 
she  commanded.  "No.  slop.  That  might 
seem  cold-blooded  or  clever.  Let  me."  Before 
she  picked  up  the  receiver  she  told  me  to  give 
her  Chloe's  things.  "And  remember."  she 
said,  "you  didn't  get  them  out  of  my  bag. 
They  were  on  the  table.  That's  where  you 
found  them.  What's  wrong  with  that?  Just 
omit  the  bag.  I  mislaid  them  and  you  never 
touched  them  till  I'd  gone.  You  listen  to  me" 
she  said.  "You  owe  me  a  lot  of  money.  And 
don't  you  daie  make  a  liar  out  of  me  when 
they  get  here!" 

The  strangeness  of  going  with  instead  of 
against  her,  the  excitement  of  lying  and  do- 
ing all  I  could  with  her  help  to  make  the  lie 
stick,  muddled  my  brain  for  a  while.  I  don't 
remember,  now,  in  which  hour  on  the  edge  of 
sleep  the  sound  of  his  playing  the  spinet 
came  back  on  my  ear  while  the  facts  kept 
time  with  the  tune:  By  your  hand— by  the 
hand—of  you  that  haled  him.  But  I  remem- 
ber the  nights  when  I  woke  to  uncradle  one 
hand  from  the  other,  to  stretch  and  flatten  it 
and  drive  away  the  dream  in  which  it  was 
fisted. 

I  had  to  tum  myself  away  from  a  recollec- 
tion of  this  dream  when  Sir  Gilbert  got  up  to 
make  his  talk  to  the  jury.  I  had  better  look 
lively,  his  glance  told  mc,  I  had  better  sit  up 
and  look  like  the  wronged  hero  he  said  I  was. 

I  studied  each  member  of  the  jury  when 
they  came  back  after  the  long  hours,  but  no 
one  of  these  men  would  look  at  me.  And  no- 
body there  in  the  dusty  August  air  of  that 
high  room  in  Old  Bailey  glanced  anywhere 
but  at  the  jury.  Except  Chloe.  When  at  last  I 
let  myself  look  at  her  she  was  looking  at  me. 
So  instead  of  hearing  anything  I  saw  her  eyes 
darken  and  her  mouth  drawing  down. 
"  guilty,"  the  foreman  had  said. 

Peter  reached  over  to  comfort  Chloe,  and 
presently  I  realized  that  Sir  Gilbert  was  talk- 
ing again,  begging  leave  to  read  something. 
It  turned  out  to  be  a  description  of  my 
lungs.  It  was  a  letter  from  the  doctor  at 
Flower  Lake. 

"Must  it  not  be  considered,"  Sir  Gilbert 
asked,  "that  prison  life  would  be  more  than 
apt  to  cause  a  recurrence  of  this  illness?  I  do 
respectfully  suggest,  my  Lord,  that  what 
would  ordinarily  seem  a  reasonable  or  even  a 
light  penalty  might  prove  to  be  fatal  to  this 
man." 

Mrs.  Heyward  was  silent  and  slow  that 
night  when  she  was  let  in  with  Chloe  and 
Peter  to  my  cell.  She  had  looked  nearly  well 
each  day  in  court.  But  now  while  the  naked 
light  bulb  glared  down  and  deepened  the  gray 
places  in  her  face,  she  sat  like  some  heavy 
specter  on  my  cot.  She  looked  balefully  at  me 
who  had  not  got  myself  acquitted  but  had, 
along  with  Sir  Gilbert,  failed  her. 

"Just  in  case,"  Peter  said  to  me,  "is  there 
anything  you  want  done?" 

"You  raven,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said.  "How 
can  he  get  any  more  than  some  little  token 
sentence?" 

"There's  only  one  thing,"  I  told  Peter. 
"Don't  any  of  you  come  tomorrow."  And  in 
answer  to  Chloe's  look,  "  It'll  suit  me  better," 
I  said,  "and  you  two  can  make  that  ship." 

"And  /  can  just  drop  dead,  I  suppose," 
Mrs.  Heyward  said.  Her  shoulders  drew  up 
and  she  stared  into  a  corner.  "My  God,  how 
have  I  come  to  this  place,  to  be  mixed  up  in 
the  doings  of  such— such  creatures?" 

"Stop  it,"  Chloe  said.  "This  is  one  time 
you're  going  to  let  Taw  alone.  You're  not 
going  to  " 

"  Don't  you  take  that  tone  with  me,"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said,  "because  /  know  what  you 
are."  And  when  Chloe  moved  toward  her  as 
if  to  stop  her  mouth  she  leaned  away  back- 
ward, and  "Don't  you  think  I've  heard  you, 
Miss  Heyward?  "  she  said  furiously.  "Creep- 
ing up  early  to  be  sick  in  your  bathroom? 
Don't  you  think  I  know?  You're  beginning 
the  morning  sickness,  aren't  you,  you  " 

"Shut  up!"  I  said. 


Peter  was  whiter  than  Mrs.  Heyward,  who 
looked  the  way  fish  do,  drowning  on  air;  and 
for  a  second,  before  he  could  move,  Chloe 
stood  alone.  Her  palms  were  turned  out  in  a 
grieved  gesture  for  what  she  feared  would  be 
my  pain,  and  her  face  showed  plainly  how 
proud  and  glad  she  was. 

"Taw!"  Mrs.  Heyward  said  in  a  queer 
voice.  And  then  she  was  leaning  forward, 
toppling,  clutching  at  her  left  side. 

Peter  and  I  caught  her.  We  heard  the 
heavy  bump  of  her  heart  and  after  that  the 
long  silence  before  it  thudded  again  and  fit- 
fully. While  we  got  her  laid  around  on  the  cot, 
Chloe  called  out  for  a  doctor,  and  we  heard 
the  key  grating  and  the  gaoler's  feet  thud- 
ding away. 

I  was  trying  to  follow  Mrs.  Heyward's 
strange  pulse  and  I  had  hold  of  her  wrist 
when  her  eyes  opened.  She  started  to  speak, 
but  "Keep  still,"  I  told  her. 

She  gave  me  a  stubborn  look  and  kept  her 
eyes  open  on  me  and  presently,  "  You  and  I," 
she  said,  "you  and  I  are  dying." 

That  she  was  badly  off,  that  her  heart  was 
wild  there  was  no  doubt.  But  something 
spoke  to  me,  the  little  last  shadow  of  bully- 
ing pleasure  in  these  words  that  Chloe  had  to 


Old  Woman  Rocking 

ltn  Uannah  Kahn 

Sometimes  she  remembers 

A  shadow  on  a  hill, 
Walking  in  the  darkness  .  .  . 

Lovers  walk  there  still. 

Sometimes  she  remembers 
One  who  sang  in  her .  .  . 

Blood,  be  still,  be  passive  now, 
Summer,  do  not  stir. 

Sometimes  she  remembers 
Her  fear  of  growing  old  .  .  . 

Barren  tree  and  shriveled  leaf 
And  bitter  cold. 

From  afar  a  sparrow 
Chirps  a  lonely  song  . . . 

Twilight  comes  so  early  now. 
Winters  are  so  long. 


hear,  so  "Speak  for  yourself,"  I  said.  "And 
go  on  if  you  want  to,  go  on  and  die.  I  like  to 
think  of  all  that  money  for  Chloe  and  her 
family.  All  that  money  right  away  for  them." 

She  was  so  still  at  first  that  I  grew  fright- 
ened. But  in  a  minute  more  it  was  there,  the 
green  flicker  I  was  looking  for,  the  spiteful, 
challenged  glint  far  back  in  the  eyes  of  her 
ancient-looking  face. 

The  doctor  gave  her  a  capsule  and  told  us 
he  would  send  an  ambulance  and  stretcher 
to  get  her  to  bed.  He  said  he  would  get  her 
a  nurse  who  must  take  her  first  to  Aix  or 
Baden  and  then  south. 

When  he  had  gone  we  propped  her  with 
Peter's  and  my  own  rolled  coats,  for  she  said 
there  was  nothing  to  breathe,  no  air,  away 
down  there  on  my  skinny  pillow. 

Chloe  was  kneeling  beside  her  and  we 
thought  she  was  beginning  to  doze  when  she 
said,  "There's  something  tacky  about  it." 

"What?"  Chloe  said. 

"It's  worse  than  common.  Just  tacky," 
Mrs.  Heyward  went  on.  "The  rented  villas 
in  all  those  places,  the  casinos  and  bought 
friends  until  it's  time  for  the  one,  last,  hired 
companion." 

"Hush,"  Chloe  said.  "We're  going  back 
to  get  the  house  ready  for  you." 

"Not  for  me.  How  much  do  you  think  I 
can  stand?  "  Mrs.  Heyward  was  staring  over 
at  the  wall.  "Let  it  be  natural,"  she  said. 

We  were  quiet  a  long  while  before  Peter 
spoke.  "  In  any  case — it's  time  for  you  to  lie 
out  in  the  sun." 


5c  uie 


"I  used  to.  I  used  to,  you  know,"  Mrs. 
Heyward  said.  "I'd  put  down  newspapers 
so  I  could  stand  the  tin  roof,  because  the 
lean-to  was  against  the  south  wall, 
'Katy,  stay  down  from  there,'  he'd  say, ' 
need  to  be  fine-skinned  and  fair. 
Heyward's  eyes  closed  and  the  opiate  in  tlii 
capsule  slowed  her  words:  "  I  could  hear 
moving  in  there  in  the  shop,  where 
wouldn't  let  me  stay,  and  on  the  hot  lu, 
my  bones'd  turn  light.  I  could  hear  hi 
and  I  could  believe  I'd  able  to  rise 
like  cinders." 

Peter's  arm  bridged  the  air  over  her,  foi 
he  had  one  hand  propped  against  the  waffl 
while  he  looked  down  at  her.  "In  Cap 
d'Antibes,"  she  said,  "one  lies  on  the  rocks. 
The  ledges  jut  out  o£  the  cliffs."  Her  eyes 
opened.  "  What'd  you  say  ?  "  she  asked  Peter. 

And  as  if  he  had  really  just  spoken,  "J 
said  don't  grieve,"  Peter  answered.  "Don't 
grieve,  and  don't  hurry.  Don't  be  impatient 
There's  no  need." 

"I  .guess  not  now,"  Mrs.  Heyward  said 
"I've  got  all  the  time  in  the  world.  I  can 
wait  forever.  Isn't  that  funny?" 

"Sh-h-h-h,"  Chloe  said.  "You're  sleepy 
now.  Go  to  sleep." 

But  Mrs.  Heyward  kept  her  drowsy  eyes 
on  Peter.  "What  were  those  words  of  yours? 
Are  they  something  you  wrote?"  she  asked, 
Peter  shook  his  head,  and  "No,"  she  said 
"Oh  no,  they're  very  good,"  she  said  com 
fortably  before  she  fell  asleep. 

"Let  the  prisoner  enter  the  dock," 
heard  the  Judge  say,  and  So  I  am,  I  thought, 
When  he  said  "prisoner"  again  I  still  turm 
the  word  over  in  my  mind,  remembering  ho\( 
willingly  I  had  come  awake  on  my  cot  that 
morning,  and  how  it  had  been  with  me,  fall 
ing  asleep  there  the  night  before. 

The  warden  had  come  to  my  cell  with  thf 
men  who  brought  the  stretcher  for  Mrs 
Heyward,  and  Chloe  got  leave  to  stay  j 
minute  alone  with  me  when  the  others  left 

"We  don't  care  about  tjie  ship.  We  want 
to  be  here,"  she  said. 

"I  know,"  I  said. 

"  It'll  be  wrong.  Taw — strange — if  you  gc 
there  alone  tomorrow.  Because  you're  n4^ 
alone." 

Her  hand  was  on  my  sleeve,  for  she  ha< 
come  across  the  narrow  cell.  "I  know 
said  again.  And  then  while  she  stood  lettin] 
me  get  a  clear,  long  look  at  her,  I  saw  how  saf 
she  was  and  how  rich  already  with  her  child 

When  she  put  her  arms  around  me  I  lai( 
my  cheek  down  on  her  hair,  and  I  knew  th 
second  when  she  grew  aware  of  the  fine  fre 
feeling  that  had  come  to  me. 

She  didn't  speak  again,  but  went  and  sig 
naled  to  the  gaoler.  Then  she  came  back  t( 
where  I  was  sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  cot,  anc* 
before  she  went  away  she  laid  her  hand  gentl; 
against  my  face. 

"You  will  never  be  put  to  the  quarries,' 
Sir  Gilbert  told  me  when  we  met  again  ii 
the  courtroom.  "The  prison  board  will  taki 
into  account  your  condition,  and  keep  you  a 
the  lighter  indoor  tasks  and  cultivation  of  th 
moors  in  proper  weather." 

The  Judge's  eyes  looking  down  at  me  wen 
weary,  for  he  had  not  slept  as  well  as  I 
"Your  term,"  he  said,  and  paused,  as  if  b 
still  wrestled  with  deciding  what  would  b 
the  right  length  of  time  for  rne,  "your  tern 
shall  be  five  years."  ' 

1  THOUGHT  the  time  would  go  slowly  an(' 
the  pages  be  quickly  filled.  But  I  was  wrong 
and  the  time  has  come  out  right.  In  my  oli' 
cell  downstairs  the  barred  patch  of  a  win 
dow  was  higher  in  the  wall  than  I  couL 
reach.  But  up  here  in  this  tower  room  th 
window  is  low,  without  bars.  My  bed  i 
rolled  close  to  it  and  I  have  watched  th 
change  of  three  seasons.  Winter  was  a  wil 
sight.  In  spring  the  land  made  a  bright  sea 
lop  on  the  bright  sea,  and  then  and  at  mic 
summer  the  ships  came  up  or  went  down  ov€ 
the  clear  edge  of  the  world.  But  now  in  th 
warm  afternoons  a  haze  lies  on  the  water ;  an 
the  moor  grass,  not  brown  yet  but  faded,  si 
vered-out,  is  quiet;  so  the  earth  blends  to  tf  i 
sea,  and  looking  there  nor  I  nor  any  ma  : 
could  say  precisely  where  the  edge  is. 

THE  EN  I 


L  A   I)    1        S  •      il    ()    M    i;      J    O    U    U    N   A  L 


"liiit;iT  '  paiK'K  finiily  a<)- 
-isi  ilu'  ;;cntlf;  lift  of  yonr  own  body 
riiiiH(:l(!H.  W'aiHl-trimiiiin^  non-roll  top 
-\ttyn  up  like  magic... williout  a  beam, 
-I itch  or  Ijonc. 


•  • 

^  See  how  the  new  boneless 
f^fC  •  n„n.roll  top  and  the  latex 
"finger"  panels  are  invisibly  moulded 
in.  The  Magic-Gonlroller  itself  is  in- 
visible under  '-leeke^t  clothes. 


l\r^mmi  f  •  •  •  a  magical  non-roll  top,  plus  tumiiiy-lhilleuin^  "  finger"  panels  that  etlio  the  firm  hupi)ort  of  your 
•  own  body  muscles,  as  Nature  intended/  Magic-Controller  acts  like  a  firming,  breathing  second  skin. 


f  Fabric  lining  inside,  with 
"  textured  latex  surface 
outside.  Magic-Controller  is  as  com- 
fortable as  your  own  skin.  And  it 
washes  in  seconds,  dries  like  a  miracle .' 


\maziiicf 


Playtex 


With  new  non-roll  top  and  hidden  power  panels, 
it  slims  and  supports  you  as  Nature  intended.' 


Here,  for  the  first  time,  is  natural  figure  control/ 
Natural  control  that  works  tvith  your  body,  not 
against  it . . .  resilient,  firm  control  that  revitalizes 
your  proportions,  your  posture,  your  pride/ 

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see  the  hidden  latex  "finger"  panels  that  flatten  your 
tummy,  firm  your  figure  . . .  without  a  seam,  stitch, 
bone  or  stay.  Playtex  slims,  supports,  never  distorts! 


Magic-Controller  is  one  smooth  piece  of  fabric 
lined  latex.  Every  inch  reflects  firm  control.  It  does 
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Dramatic  proof  of  Magic-Controller's  power  to 
"fashion"  your  figure  naturally  comes  when  you 
wear  it  under  the  season's  new  styles.  You'll  think 
you've  lost  a  full  size  (and  more  than  a  few  years).' 


)19S3  International  Latex  Corp'n. . .  .PLAYTEX  PARK  . . .  Dover  Del.      Playtex  Ltd.,  Montreal,  Canada 


Playtex  Magic-Controller 

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*         U.S.A.  and  Foreign  Patents  Pending 


I  a  I 


1.  \  I)  I      s  ' 


II   o  \i 


J    O    U    J{    A'    A  L 


Uuy,  195. 


THESE  EYES  TELL 


THE  STORY  OF  AN 


You  can  look  far  lovelier  .  .  .  have  more  beautiful  eyes.  It's 
ever  so  simple!  Dramatize  your  lashes  Avith  Maybelline 
Mascara  — they'll  not  only  look  longer  and  darker  .  .  .  but 
your  eyes  will  appear  larger,  lovelier.  And  for  graceful 
expressive  brows  .  .  .  just  a  touch  of  soft  Maybelline  Eye- 
brow Pencil.  Give  your  eyes  romantic  beauty  with 


PREFER'RED   BY  SMART  WOMEN  THE  WORLD  OVER 


MASCARA     ★     EYE   SHADOW    ★     EYEBROW  PENCIL 


Till:  MAN  IN  €|ITEEN  ELIZABETH'S  LIFE 

(Continued  from  Page  53) 


Some  time  ago  one  of  the  schoolteachers 
at  St.  Cloud  told  a  newspaper  of  her  first 
meeting  with  Prince  Philip.  She  was  Miss 
Catherine  Lewitsky  and  she  went  to  the 
school  as  a  junior  teacher.  She  asked  each  of 
the  twelve  boys  in  the  class  to  introduce 
himself.  One  dark  little  boy  introduced  him- 
self as  Wellington  Koo.  He  was  the  son  of 
the  onetime  Chinese  ambassador  to  the 
United  States  and  Britain. 

When  she  asked  the  fair-haired  boy  his 
name,  he  replied,  "Philip." 

"Philip  what?"  she  asked. 

"Just  Philip,"  said  the  little  boy,  shrug- 
ging with  some  embarrassment. 

"But  you  must  have  another  name." 

The  boy  went  pink.  "Philip  of  Greece,"  he 
replied. 

Miss  Lewitsky  recalled  that  despite  Phil- 
ip's diffidence  at  that  encounter  he  was  con- 
fident and  authoritative,  though  fair,  in  his 
dealings  with  other  children.  He  spent  two 
years  at  St.  Cloud,  after  which  there  was 
more  trouble  for  the  foot-loose  family  and  it 
was  decided  to  send  Philip  alone  to  London, 
where  he  stayed  with  the  Mountbattens  and 
was  sent  to  a  small  private  school  in  Cheam, 
Surrey,  a  suburban  residential  area  roughly 
similar  to  Forest  Hills  in  New  York.  It  was 
during  the  Cheam  period  that  he  first  met 
Princess  Elizabeth. 

Some  say  it  was  at  Buckingham  Palace 
when  old  George  V  threw  a  party  for  some 
royal  children.  Others  say  it  was  the  Mount- 
battens'  place,  at  Park  Lane  in  Mayfair. 
Wherever  it  was,  they  did 
meet  in  both  places  and 
quite  frequently,  but  al- 
ways in  parties.  There  are 
never  any  points  in  com- 
mon between  an  infant 
girl  of  si.x  and  a  harum- 
scarum  ruffian  of  eleven. 
In  fact,  neither  Elizabeth 
nor  Philip  can  remember 
these  meetings  at  all.  The 
first  time  they  remember 
seeing  each  other  was  at 
the  coronation  in  1937. 

Philip  was  considerably  younger  than  his 
four  sisters,  all  married  and  living  in  Ger- 
many. Princess  Theodora,  fifteen  years  older 
than  Philip,  was  married  to  a  liberal-minded 
German  noble.  Prince  Berthold  of  Baden. 
Both  Theodora  and  Berthold  were  deeply 
impressed  by  the  educational  theories  of 
Kurt  Hahn.  Hahn,  a  German-born  graduate 
of  Oxford  University,  believed  that  "the 
sons  of  the  pwwerful  should  be  emancipated 
from  the  prison  of  privilege."  He  aimed  to 
achieve  this  with  a  school  curriculum  which 
combined  Spartanism  and  an  advanced 
study  of  the  humanities. 

For  the  next  few  years  Hahn  was  to  be- 
come the  greatest  influence  on  Philip's  life. 
In  fact,  much  of  Philip's  outlook  today  is  still 
molded  from  the  teachings  of  Hahn,  and  he 
is  passing  a  good  deal  of  it  on  to  Prince 
Charles.  The  hundred  or  so  boys,  mostly 
sons  of  the  German  aristocracy,  under 
Hahn's  tutelage  learned  to  be  tough  and  self- 
reliant.  They  climbed  mountains,  made 
boats,  slept  under  the  stars.  For  a  while  the 
life  was  ideal,  but  it  did  not  last  very  long. 

The  Nazis  came  to  power  in  1933,  and 
learned  that  Hahn  was  partly  Jewish  and 
threw  him  into  prison.  But  he  was  released, 
and  arranged  to  take  the  school  to  England, 
and  Philip  got  ready — once  more — to  find 
a  new  home. 

While  Hahn  scouted  round  for  a  new  site 
for  his  school,  Philip  stayed  either  with  the 
old  Marchioness  of  Milford  Haven  or  with 
the  Mountbattens  in  London.  Philip  was,  in 
effect,  an  orphan  and  Lord  Louis  became  his 
father  in  all  but  name.  From  Lord  Louis, 
Philip  began  to  acquire  such  Mountbatten 
characteristics  as  a  love  for  the  sea,  and  a 
political  awareness  greater  than  that  held  by 
most  boys  of  thirteen. 

At  last  Kurt  Hahn  found  an  ancient  house 
in  Gordonstoun,  in  the  north  of  Scotland. 
Here  was  everything  to  appeal  to  boys  of 


The  mark  of  the  immature 
man  is  that  he  wants  to  die 
nobly  for  a  cause,  while 
the  mark  of  a  mature  man 
is  that  he  wants  to  live 
humbly  for  one. 

—WILLIAM  STEKEL 


hardihood  and  adventure.  It  was  a  part  o 
the  world  where  the  summer  is  watery  anc^ 
the  winter  winds  are  freezing. 

In  every  way  Gordonstoun  was  superior  t( 
Baden.  Here  Philip  could  indulge  in  his  pas 
sion  for  the  sea  as  much  as  he  wanted.  Al 
ways  the  kindly,  balding  Kurt  Hahn  wai 
there  to  encourage  him  in  self-reliance,  in 
dividuality  and  force  of  character.  Philip  ir 
his  small  boat  explored  every  bay  and  creel- 
along  that  part  of  the  Scottish  coast  that  hi; 
Viking  ancestors  had  invaded  centuries  bei 
fore.  Often  he  went  on  all-night  fishing  trips 
with  the  Scottish  fishermen  who  put  to  se; 
almost  regardless  of  the  weather  conditions ; 
He  fished  and  swam,  sailed,  sculled  anc 
practiced  his  diving  in  the  freezing  water 
Soon  everyone  in  the  village  came  to  know 
him,  though  whether  he  relished  their  de 
scription  of  him  as  "the  Greek  laddie"  is, 
highly  doubtful. 

This  was  the  happiest  period  of  Philip'; j 
boyhood.  Once  some  female  cousins  tumec 
up  to  take  Philip  off  in  their  car  on  vacation 
Most  of  the  boys  had  already  gone  on  holi- 
day but  a  few  were  sporting  by  the  fishing  i 
boats  and  along  the  beach.  None  was  re- 
motely recognizable  as  Prince  Philip  o: 
Greece. 

Diffidently  one  of  the  girls  approached  c 
grizzled  old  salt  smoking  on- the  pier  and 
asked  if  he  knew  Philip.  The  answer  was  z 
stony  "Aye."  When  the  cousin  asked  where 
he  was  to  be  found  the  fisherman  pointed 
with  his  clay  pipe.  What 
the  horrified  cousins  saw 
was  a  tall  but  almost 
unrecognizable  boy  cov-' 
ered  in  mud  and  slime,, 
scraping  barnacles  off  the  I 
bottom  of  a  boat  and  ontc 
himself. 

The  year  1937  was  the 
year  of  the  coronation  ol 
King  George  VI.  Philip 
had  been  at  Gordonstoun 
for  nearly  three  years, 
He  made  the  trip  to  Lon- 
don to  attend  the  ceremony,  and  by  that 
time  he  had  quite  definitely  decided  on  a 
naval  career.  He  was  nearly  six  feet  tall, 
sixteen  years  old,  less  beautiful  than  he  had 
been  as  a  child,  and  less  handsome  than  he 
was  to  become  as  a  man.  He  was  as  hard  as 
nails,  captain  of  his  school  cricket  and  field- 
hockey  teams,  and  a  passable  scholar. 

In  1939,  with  his  uncle's  recommendation, 
he  enrolled  at  Dartmouth,  which  is  the  Eng- 
lish equivalent  of  America's  Annapolis.  In  a 
confidential  report  which  later  became  fa- 
mous, Kurt  Hahn,  now  a  naturalized  British 
citizen,  wrote  to  My  Lords  Commissioners 
of  the  Admiralty:  "Prince  Philip  is  a  born 
leader,  but  he  will  need  the  exacting  demands! 
of  a  great  service  to  do  justice  to  himself. 
His  best  is  outstanding.  His  second  best  isj 
not  good  enough." 

The  words  were  prophetic.  Today  they 
apply  even  more  significantly  to  the  position! 
which  Philip  occupies. 

He  was  immediately  popular  with  his  fel- 
low cadets  at  Dartmouth.  His  sporting  prow- 
ess was  formidable,  and  there  were  times 
when  Philip,  without  realizing  it,  became  a 
bit  of  a  bully.  But  that  was  born  of  his  nat- 
ural sense  of  leadership  and  he  soon  got  over 
it.  In  its  place  came  a  boisterous  taste  for 
practical  joking  and  horseplay. 

He  continued  to  see  Elizabeth,  and  as  they 
grew  older  the  five-year  gulf  between  their  J 
ages  began  to  seem  less  important.  When  the  | 
King  and  Queen  came  to  Dartmouth  to  re- 
view the  fleet  in  Weymouth  Bay,  Philip 
was  invited  aboard  the  royal  yacht,  Victoria 
and  Albert.  The  commanding  officer  had 
been  discreetly  reminded  that  Philip  was  a 
relation  of  the  royal  family,  so  he  was  also  \ 
invited  when  Elizabeth  and  Margaret  came ; 
to  tea  in  the  officers'  mess. 

The  war  began  in  1939,  and  for  a  few  im- 
patient months  he  carried  on  with  the  final 
stages  of  his  training  and,  with  the  other 
cadets,  chafed  frantically  at  home  while  the 


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Picturesque  Picture-Frame  Heel  Stockings.  In  luxury  sheer  nylon,  of  course. 

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I      S     I)     I     I      s  II  II 


\l     I  I     M    I      II     N     \  I, 


Royal  Navy  the  remiiaiils  ol  llu- 

Hiitisli  Ivxpcdilionary  Force  hack  lioin 
l)iiiil<irk.  Slioilly  allciward  he  joined  llif 
>(•!  vice  proper  and  as  a  inidsliipinan  weni 
al)oard  I  IMS  Valiant  lo  lake  p.ii  l  iii  I  lie  war 
m  the  Mediti'rranean. 

I';ii/,al)etli's  eighteenth  birthday  came  in 
1911.  vviien  the  war  was  at  its  iieak  and 
British  austerity  was  at  its  most  l)arreii. 
I'ili/abelli  celebrated  with  a  small  party  at 
liie  home  of  Queen  Mary  I'hilip,  iiome  on 
leave,  was  present  and  tiien  enlisted  in  tiie 
A  TS,  British  etjuivalent  of  the  WAC 

There  was  no  secret  in  court  circles  now 
of  I'Mi/.alx'th's  friendship  lor  I'hilip.  They 
corresi)onded  and  exchanged  |)lioto^raphs. 
I'hilip  was  now  a  man,  and  a  vt'teran.  When 
he  turned  u|)  in  London  m  1911  he  was 
burned  to  a  niaho)j;any  color  and  his  hair  was 
bleached  the  color  of  straw.  He  also  sported 
a  superb  K(>l(len  beard  which  had  been  nur- 
tured and  trimmed  into  a  line  spade  shape  at 
sea,  but  it  did  not  last  lonn  on  shore. 
I'^li/aheth  sternly  ordered  him  lo  shave  it  off 
and  I'hilip  shortly  afterward  appi'ared  sheep- 
ishly in  public  clean-shaven. 

By  now  he  had  developed  a  taste  for  a 
rou^^hhouse  form  of  practical  jokini;  which 
delit;hted  his  more  boisterous  friends  and  in- 
furiated nearly  everyone  else.  One  ni^;ht  at  a 
London  bottle  party  he  tripped  one  of 
Ivn.uland's  titled  ladies  three  times  in  a  row, 
until  she  turned  and  stormed.  "I'hili]). 
dammit,  stop  i)layinK  the  fool ! " 

One  ni^hl  during  the  vicious  little  Blitz 
which  the  Clermans  ventured  in  1911.  Philip 
was  invited  to  a  party  in  the  West  End,  and 
the  Liijtwajje  was  proving  uncomfortably 
lively  company.  At  about  two  a.m.  one  of 
the  male  quests  volunteered  to  go  out  and 
try  to  lind  a  taxi  for  himself  and  his  ,u;irl 
friend. 

Charing;  Cross  Road  at  the  time  was  brisiht 
with  the  reflection  of  searchlights  and  Ger- 
man magnesium  Hares.  A  (ire  was  raging  half 
a  mile  away  in  St.  James's  Street  and  artillery 
shrapnel  was  falling  in  a  metallic  rain  in  the 
streets. 

After  an  hour  patrolling  the  deserted 
streets  the  young  man  finally  found  a  taxi 
and  won  over  the  jittery  cabbie  with  prom- 
ises of  a  sumptuous  reward.  Together  they 
returned  to  the  house  where  the  party  was 
still  in  full  swing.  As  he  ran  upstairs  he 
passed  Philip  escorting  two  girls  in  wraps. 

"And  guess  what,"  commented  the  young 
man  bitterly  some  months  later,  "the 
damned  Greek  not  only  stole  my  taxi  for 
himself  and  his  girl  friend  but  he  took  my 
girl  too." 

In  time  the  war  ended,  and  many  months 
afterward  Prince  Philip  came  home.  He  had 
fought  an  impressive  war  through  six  years 


of  alnnwt  unrelieved  danger.  Philip,  like 
most  carefree  people,  was  tH>rn  lucky.  At  llie 
end  of  the  war  he  found  himself  with  a  strin^|; 
of  campal^^n  ribbons  and  a  ■'Menlioned-in- 
Despatihes."  He  was  unscralclied  and  un- 
touched by  even  a  trace  of  the  fevers  that 
came  lo  servicemen  in  the  Middle  and 
I'ar  ICast. 

Back  home  in  late  UM.'j,  he  was  reunited 
with  I'lli/abetli  and  began  a  courtship  which, 
di'S|)ile  the  frecjuenl  rumors,  was  one  so  dis- 
cri'cl  and  (luiel  that  it  delied  even  the  British 
and  American  press. 

Bui  op|K)rtumli(  s  to  meet  could  be  found, 
;ind  they  were  found,  i'hilip  had  been  trans- 
ferred lo  a  shore  naval  establishment  at 
Pwlhelh  (unpronounceable)  in  Wales  and 
later  to  another  shore  base  called  HMS 
Royal  Arthur  at  Corsham  in  Wiltshire, 
where  he  gave  courses  of  instruction  to  petty 
ollicers. 

Ki.iZAiiinii  and  Philij)  met  frequently  at 
Buckingham  Palace.  If  there  was  a  crowd  at 
the  front  of  the  building  and  there  usually 
is  he  would  skim  round  in  his  fast  little 
MG  sports  car  to  the  side  entrance.  They 
met  at  Sandringham  and  Windsor.  They  met 
at  the  Chester  Street  home  of  the  Mount- 
battens  with  the  enthusiastic  encouragement 
of  Mountbatten  himself.  They  met  at  Ken- 
sington Palace,  the  home;  of  the  old  Mar- 
chioness of  Milford  I laven. 

Finally,  m  the  fall  of  1946,  Elizabeth  and 
Philip  met  at  Balmoral,  the  King's  home  in 
Scotland,  and  on  the  banks  of  a  loch,  in  the 
tradition  of  lirilish  royalty  Elizabeth  made 
her  wishes  known. 

The  engagement  was  acknowledged  and 
celebrated  over  champagne  at  Balmoral.  But 
in  spite  of  the  circumsjiect  nature  of  their 
relationship,  it  was  agreed  that  they  would 
have  to  tread  carefully.  Many  obstacles  and 
delays  stood  in  the  way  of  their  marriage. 
Philip  was  still  a  Greek  subject,  for  one 
thing.  Lord  Louis  Mountbatten  had  spon- 
sored his  application  for  citizenship,  but  no 
strings  could  be  pulled  to  quicken  the  citizen- 
ship procedures.  The  British  Socialist  gov- 
ernment was  still  riding  on  the  crest  of  na- 
tional enthusiasm  and  the  British  nation, 
always  tensely  class-conscious,  was  partic- 
ularly touchy  at  this  time  about  any  unnec- 
essary privileges  that  might  be  accorded  to 
the  unpopular  upper  classes.  Philip  would 
have  to  wait  his  turn  behind  all  the  other  dis- 
possessed Europeans  lining  up  at  the  right 
for  a  blue  passport. 

It  was  a  serious  young  man  who  left  Bal- 
moral to  return  to  his  station  in  Wiltshire. 
Philip  continued  to  lecture  his  petty  officers 
at  Corsham.  "Discipline,"  he  wrote  on  a 
blackboard,  "is  the  force  which  causes  a  man 
to  play  the  part  required  of  him  in  the  or- 

WIDE  WORLD  PHOTOS 


Touheaded  boy  second  from  left  is  Prince  Philip  at  St.  Cloud  school,  where  he  learned 
English  and  had  his  first  taste  of  baseball  and  other  sports.  His  family  had  little 
money,  and  Philip  alu  ays  had  to  be  careful  of  the  knees  of  his  tweed  knickcrborkers. 


PORTRAIT    OF    A  LADY 

about  to  "hution  up" 
a  reputation  as  the  hest-drrsscd 
woman  in  her  crowd 

Her  secret  i--  ^iiii|ilc  .  .  .  her 
siicces.s  is  as^iiK-d,  .Shc'v  IcMined, 
like  s(p  mans  ^iiiart  vsdiiicri,  lhat 
La  Mode  hullons  vmII  niat.c  the 
(li('s>  she  make^.  She  <  Ikmi^c^  her 
hullons  a>  carefully  a>-  she  selecl'- 
iier  jialtern,  knowing  lhat  in  La 
Mode's  new  collection  she  will  find 
every  .significant  fashion  button. 


01^*1 

f!^  Guoionteed  by 
^Good  Housekeeping 

!^*o.iaiivtl> 

B.  Blumenthal  &  Co.,  Inc.,  1372  Broadway,  N.  Y.  18 

Also  creators  of  famous  Le  Chic  fastiion  buttons 
featured  mainly  in  variety  stores 


FRE  DERIC*  . 


miwst 


/ 


'"is, 


LUCIEN  LELONG 


186 


L   A    D    I    E    S  • 


l{    O    M  K 


.1    <)    U    K    N    \  I. 


May,  1953 


by  REGIS  PAINE 

beauty  consultant 

Arms  Program — Most  women  today 
make  sure  their  legs  are 
smoothly  groomed,  hands  and 
elbows  creamed  to  softness.  But, 
often,  when  they  raise  their 
arms,  the  underarm  skin  shows 
irritation  from  using  a  / _^\^ 
too-harsh  deodorant.  \_ 
(One  out  of  two  women  have  had 
this  trouble,  a  nation-wide 
survey  shows.) 


To  avoid  this,  use  yodora,  the 
"beauty  cream"  deodorant.  Made 
with  a  pure  face  cream  base. 
YODORA  does  not  irritate  normal  skin. 
A  four-week  test,  conducted  by 
a  leading  skin  doctor,  showed 
not  one  case  of  underarm  skin 
irritation  from  using  vodora.  even 
when  applied  right  after  shaving. 
Yodora  helps  beautify 
the  underarm  skin. 


Helping  Hands — Spring's  the 
time  when  "smart  cookies" 
like  to  whip  up  a  tasty  " 
hamburger  or  toss  a  tangy 
salad.  But  who  wants  the  odor 
of  onions  and  garlic  lingering 
on  hands  made  to  be  held  in  the 
moonlight?  Just  smooth  on  a  bit  of 
yodora,  and  your  hands  will 
be  soft  and  sweet-smelling 
in  no  time. 


Tips  for  Teens — Don't  use  too-heavy 
make-up  on  sensitive  adolescent  skin ; 
nor  a  too-strong  deodorant. 
Use  yodora,  accepted  by  the 
American  Medical  Association 
Committee  on  Cosmetics.  Yodora 
not  only  stops  perspiration  odor 
effectively,  it  also  softens,  smooths 
and  beautifies  the  skin. 

Tubes  or  jars.  lOf,  35</,  60<f 


McKesson  &  Robbins,  Bridgeport,  Conn. 


ganization  to  which  he  belongs."  For  many 
months  Philip  continued  to  live  his  double 
life  and  keep  to  himself  the  secret  of  his  en- 
gagement, a  secret,  unfortunately,  which 
most  of  the  London  newspapers  were  con- 
fidently spreading  to  millions  of  readers. 

Philip's  citizenship,  which  he  had  been 
seeking  ever  since  he  was  eighteen,  finally 
came  through;  he  was  now  twenty-six.  His 
engagement  to  Princess  Elizabeth  was  an- 
nounced, after  five  previous  denials,  and  in 
July  he  formally  abandoned  the  Greek 
Orthodox  Church,  and  joined  the  Church  of 
England. 

With  the  announcement  of  the  engage- 
ment, Philip's  worst  apprehensions  were  im- 
mediately realized.  The  following  day  he 
found  himself  tailed  discreetly  by  a  sleek, 
silent  detective.  His  protests  to  Scotland 
Yard  were  in  vain.  The  detective  stuck  to 
him  from  then  on. 

From  then  on  he  could  go  on  no  more  wild 
sprees,  no  more  of  the  week  ends  in  Paris 
that  your  true  Englishman  regards  as  part 
of  his  heritage,  no  more  practical  jokes.  This 
was  the  last  of  his  happy  life  as  "just  Philip." 

A  life  of  dedication  had  to  take  its  place. 

The  former  Prince  Philip  was  now  plain 
Philip  Mountbatten  with  a  registered  ad- 
dress at  16  Chester  Street,  London  S.W.  1., 
the  home  of  Earl  Mountbatten  and  his  wife. 
The  public  waited  breathlessly  to  see  whether 
Elizabeth  would  submit  to  the  pattern  of  the 
Socialist-minded  times  and  become  plain 
Mrs.  Mountbatten.  They  found  out  on  the 
eve  of  the  wedding  when  Philip  knelt  before 
the  King.  With  a  naked  sword  King  George 
touched  Philip  on  each  shoulder  and  turned 
him  into  a  Knight  Companion  of  the  Most 
Noble  Order  of  the  Garter,  Duke  of  Edin- 
burgh, Baron  Greenwich  of  Greenwich  in  the 
County  of  London,  and  Earl  of  Merioneth. 
These  titles  were  Scottish,  English  and  Welsh 
respectively. 

After  the  honeymoon,  they  prepared  to 
return,  Elizabeth  to  her  official  functions, 
Philip  to  the  Admiralty,  and  both  to  the 
task  of  establishing  themselves  in  a  home  of 
their  own.  The  King  had  given  them  Clar- 
ence House  on  the  Mall,  a  few  hundred  yards 
from  the  palace,  as  a  permanent  residence. 
It  was  a  squat,  five-floor  mansion  on  which 
many  of  the  old  New  York  Fifth  Avenue 
mansions  had  been  modeled. 

It  had  been  occupied  once  before  by  a 
Duke  of  Edinburgh,  Queen  Victoria's  second 
son.  But  during  the  war  it  had  not  only  been 
bombed  but  was  taken  over  by  the  Red 
Cross,  who  had  knocked  it  about  pretty 
severely. 

On  the  King's  orders  the  workmen  moved 
in  to  whip  it  up  to  shape  with  central  heating 
and  up-to-date  plumbing.  In  the  meantime 
Elizabeth  and  Philip  rented  Windlesham 
Moor,  a  rambling  manor  house  in  Berkshire. 

It  was  the  first  real  home  Philip  had  ever 
known  and  it  had  a  remarkable  effect  on  him. 
Born  a  refugee  and  later  a  perpetual  guest  all 
over  Britain  and  Europe,  he  had  never 
known  anything  closer  to  home  than  a  cabin 
in  one  of  His  Majesty's  ships. 

Suddenly,  at  Windlesham,  Philip  changed. 
He  wandered  through  the  rooms,  supervised 
decorations  with  naval  precision.  He  called 
in  the  manor's  handy  man  and  with  pride  of 
possession  ordered  him  to  erect,  on  the 
smoothest  strip  of  turf  available,  a  cricket 
net,  or  netting  cage  in  which  cricket  players 
practice  batting  without  having  to  chase  a 
ball  for  miles.  He  gave  Elizabeth  some  bat- 
ting practice'  and  when,  with  a  woman's  lack 
of  reliability  in  such  matters,  she  lost  inter- 
est, he  drafted  his  private  detective  and 
chauffeur  whose  amateurish  deliveries  Philip, 
the  expert,  clouted  with  good-natured  con- 
tempt into  the  net. 

As  so  often  happens  in  marriage,  it  was 
only  in  gradual  stages  that  Philip  learned 
just  how  remarkable  his  wife  was.  Her  de- 
votion to  her  work  was  tremendous.  Her 
health  and  vitality  were  blooming,  and  she 
gave  a  sense  of  buoyancy  and  inspiration  to 
everybody  she  met.  The  width  of  her  knowl- 
edge was  startling.  Her  skill  and  sophistica- 
tion in  foreign  languages  were  extraordinary. 
A  passion  for  the  turf,  evolved  from  a  lifetime 


of  riding  horses,  watching  horses  and  occa- 
sionally falling  off  horses,  had  made  her  such 
an  expert  on  the  subject  of  horses  and  horse 
breeding  that  today  she  is  one  of  the  world's 
great  authorities  on  the  subject.  Her  child- 
hood curriculum  at  Windsor  Castle  during 
the  war  had  included  an  intensive  study  of 
the  great  composers,  and  Philip,  who  was 
more  familiar  with  baseball  than  with 
Beethoven,  was  amazed  at  how  much  she 
knew  about  music. 

Philip,  thanks  to  a  cosmopolitan  life,  was 
politically  minded  and  Elizabeth  could  dis- 
cuss politics  with  him  on  his  own  level.  This, 
though,  she  found  harder  to  master.  In  the 
first  months  after  the  wedding  Elizabeth  be- 
gan to  specialize  in  advanced  politics,  learn- 
ing from  the  top  downward  by  the  practical 
method  of  receiving  daily  copies  of  Foreign 
Office  confidential  dispatches. 

Within  a  month  after  the  wedding,  Eliza- 
beth and  Philip  were  back  at  work.  Eliza- 
beth was  the  more  fortunate  of  the  two.  The 
King  remembered  his  own  days  at  the  begin- 
ning of  his  marriage  when  he  and  his  wife, 
then  the  Duchess  of  York,  never  stopped 
traveling  on  official  duties,  and  married  life 
was  not  much  fun  for  them.  So  he  ordered 


WIDE  WORLD  PHOTOS 


Philip^ s  luxuriant  beard,  carefully  grown 
during  sea  duty,  didn't  last  long  after 
he  came  home  on  leave.  Elizabeth  did 
not  approve;  the  heard  soon  disappeared. 

that  Elizabeth  be  given  plenty  of  time  to  get 
settled  into  her  new  way  of  living.  After  the 
wedding  Elizabeth  was  freed  from  all  public 
engagements  until  February,  1948,  and  then 
her  engagements  were  deliberately  kept 
down. 

Philip  was  immediately  immersed  in  a 
mass  of  work.  His  desk  at  Buckingham  Pal- 
ace was  deep  with  mail.  Buried  under  the 
pile  he  unearthed,  to  his  delight,  a  formal 
note  from  the  accounts  section  of  the  Royal 
Navy  informing  him  that  he  was  now  eligible 
for  a  marriage  allowance  which  lifted  his  first 
lieutenant's  pay  from  $33.60  a  week  to  $52.43 
a  week. 

The  naval  work  was  fairly  easy.  His 
domestic  adjustment  was  less  so.  Although 
he  was  working  full  time  at  the  Admiralty, 
he  volunteered  to  accompany  Elizabeth  on 
some  official  functions  in  the  evenings  and  at 
week  ends  to  get  the  hang  of  it.  He  himself 
was  called  on  to  speak  at  public  banquets. 
He  was  elected  that  year's  president  of  the 
Marylebone  Cricket  Club,  which  is  the  con- 
trolling body  of  Empire  cricket.  He  had  a 
new  world  of  formality  and  protocol  to  learn, 
and  took  his  seat  in  the  House  of  Lords. 

Above  all,  there  was  one  problem  which 
Philip  liad  to  settle  for  himself.  It  was  how 
to  make  his  change  in  his  status  gracefully. 
All  over  England  and  Europe  there  were 
characters  of  variable  social  standing  who  at 
one  time  or  another  were  on  first-name  and 
back-slapping  terms  with  Philip.  Nobody 
wants  to  be  a  boor  or  be  considered  "up- 


stage," and  Philip,  like  most  men  with  a  lot 
of  friends,  enjoyed  his  own  popularity.  Yet, 
as  Princess  Elizabeth's  husband,  he  would 
now  have  to  keep  all  his  old  friends  to  some 
extent  or  another  at  a  distance,  and  many 
who  had  once  called  him  "chum"  now  had 
to  call  him  "sir." 

He  was  impatient  with  the  usual  rituals  of 
public  function.  He  was  never  content  to  be 
shown  merely  what  the  officials  wanted  to 
show  him.  He  preferred  to  skip  the  cere- 
monial teatime  and  pry  all  over  the  factory 
or  museum. 

There  was  more  than  mere  curiosity  or 
officiousness  about  Philip's  whirlwind  cam- 
paign. Behind  the  formidable  armor  of 
Elizabeth's  strength,  wit  and  intellect  there 
was  one  serious  weakness— her  lack  of  con- 
tact with  ordinary  people.  All  her  life  she 
had  been  protected  from  the  tough  business 
of  making  a  living  in  the  jungle  of  modern 
civilization.  From  time  to  time  she  had  tried 
to  overcome  this.  She  had  visited  wounded 
soldiers  during  the  war  and  had  served  in  the 
ATS.  And  once  she  attended  a  juvenile  court 
iij  London's  slumniy  East  End,  listening  im- 
passively to  a  succession  of  rough  and  sordid 
offenses  indulged  in  by  some  of  the  great 
city's  Dickensian  urchins. 

But  in  the  end  it  was  from  Philip  that  she 
would  be  able  to  develop  the  common  touch. 
Philip  knew  in  his  youth  what  it  was  to  be 
homeless  and  alone.  By  mixing  with  as  many- 
people  as  he  could,  by  seeing  from  as  many 
different  angles  as  possible  what  made  the 
nation  tick,  he  could  make  Elizabeth,  when 
the  time  came,  the  best  informed  monarch  in 
British  history. 

Philip  quickly  revolutionized  royal-family 
procedure  by  composing  his  own  speeches, 
and  here  again  he  knew  he  was  making  use 
of  a  privilege  w  hich  his  wife  could  not  claim. 
Princess  Elizabeth  could  try  to  emulate  him 
to  some  extent,  but  royal-family  pronounce- 
ments are  so  circumscribed  by  what  they  are 
not  allowed  to  say  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
not  to  fall  back  on  the  cliche,  the  platitude 
and  the  bromide. 

Philip  is  usually  good  for  a  laugh  some- 
where in  the  course  of  a  speech.  One  night 
before  a  naval  audience  which  included  nine- 
teen admirals,  he  replied  to  a  toast  of  "The 
Younger  Seafarers."  It  was  proposed  by  the 
dinner  president,  the  ferocious  Vice-Admiral 
Sir  Gilbert  Stephenson,  wartime  head  of 
training  for  naval  operations  in  the  Western 
Approaches. 

Philip,  though  only  a  commander,  was  not 
a  bit  put  out  by  the  scintillation  of  gold  lace 
that  surrounded  him— so  different  from  the" 
bashful  young  prince  of  a  few  years  before. 
He  told  the  diners  he  was  attending  "under 
false  pretenses"  because  he  had  served  in 
East  Coast  convoys  during  the  war,  and  not 
in  the  Western  Approaches  at  all.  Then,  roll- 
ing a  Groucho  Marx  eye  round  the  guests, 
he  said  condescendingly,  "Still,  we  did  actu- 
ally hear  about  you,  and  understood  you  did 
quite  well." 

After  six  months  of  marriage,  however, 
Philip  was  fairly  settled  in  the  routine.  A 
good  deal  of  his  rather  clownish  earlier  exu- 
berance had  gone,  but  in  its  place  had  come  a 
mature  charm  that  had  won  the  nation  and 
the  Commonwealth,  and  devastated  the 
hearts  of  England's  shopgirls.  Everywhere 
he  went  he  was  frantically  bobby-soxed,  and 
later,  when  he  made  trips  down  to  Sussex  for 
polo  games,  caused  minor  riots  as  the  girls 
tried  to  get  close  enough  to  touch  him. 

He  was  now  stationed  at  Greenwich,  down 
the  Thames,  and  was  keen  to  get  back  to  sea, 
but  there  was  a  new  reason  which  kept  him 
close  to  home.  At  Buckingham  Palace  on 
November  14,  1948,  the  first  son  of  Elizabeth 
and  Philip  was  born.  He  was  christened 
Charles  Philip  Arthur  George,  and  became 
the  first  son  born  in  direct  line  to  the  throne 
since  the  birth  of  the  present  Duke  of  Wind- 
sor in  1894. 

Existence  for  Philip  and  Elizabeth  in  the 
months  following  Charles'  birth  was  prob- 
ably the  most  wretched  in  their  married  life. 
The  King's  illness  oppressed  them  with  the 
most  awful  anxiety.  They  still  had  no  home 
of  their  own,  but  rotated  from  Windlesham 

(Continued  on  Pag/'  1^^) 


I      \    II     I     I      -  II    n     \|     I         I    <>    I      l(     \     \  I 


DANDY  STRIPE 

Miilti-hlri|pcs  witli 
your  r-lioicc  of  solid 
color.  KluHlicized  ankle 
straps,  cushiony 
])lutrorins  and  insoles, 


FROSTY  FLAIR 

Here's  texture  interest  in 

six  lighthearted  colors. 
Fashion  high  heels; narrow 
and  medium  widths. 


BOOSTERETTE 

A  classic  with  news  in 
the  gay  colors;  narrow  and 
medium  widths;  comfortable 
cork-filled  insoles. 


CAPRI  SHELL 

Five  smart  colors  or 
straw  ribboned  with  red  or 
blue.  Heel-to-toe 
cushioned  insoles. 


THE  WASHABLE  CA5UAl|^ 


fust  4  o  f  m  a  n  V  from   3.50  to  6. 


AT    FINE    STORES  EVERYWHERE 


U  N  I 


E  D 


STATES      RUBBER  COMPANY 


ROCKEFELLER     CENTER,    NEW  YORK 


188 


LADIES'       HO    ME  JOUUNAL 


May,  195: 


pretty  plisse 


Breeze  your  pretty  way 
through  summer  in  our  fine 
combed  cotton  plisses. 
Frosted  in  dainty  nylon, 
they  never  go  to  press! 
There's  night-and-day 
versatility  in  the 
charming  dress  length 
gown.  There's  sheer 
beauty-duty  in  the 
shadow-paneled  slips. 
Each  $3.98. 


SUPS  •  GOWNS  •  PETTICOATS  •  PANTIES  •  STOCKINGS 
SEAMPRUFE  INC.,  412  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK,  N.  Y. 


(Contituint  from  Pane  1S6) 

Moor  to  Kensington  Palace  to  Buckingham 
Palace. 

Finally  in  January,  1949,  Elizabeth  came 
down  with  measles  at  Sandringham,  an  ab- 
surd and  undignified  illness  for  the  normally 
healthy  princess,  As  a  result  the  breast  feed- 
ing of  Charles  had  to  stop  and  he  was  fed  by 
a  formula. 

As  usual  in  times  of  crisis,  Philip  worked 
like  a  horse.  He  philosophically  postponed 
his  return  to  sea  and,  with  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  pinch-hit  vigorously  at  all  the 
official  functions  which  his  father-in-law  was 
not  able  to  attend. 

Charles  proved  to  be  quite  a  baby.  It 
was  his  unshakable  san^-froid  and  recep- 
tiveness  to  ideas  which  endeared  him  to 
everybody.  A  few  months  after  the  death  of 
King  George  a  visitor  to  Buckingham  Palace 
was  halted,  as  so  many  visitors  are,  by  the 
small  boy  who  looks  even  smaller  in  the  huge 
rooms  and  endless  corridors.  Boldly  the  little 
fellow  demanded  where  the  visitor  was  going. 

"I'm  going  to  see  the  Queen,"  was  the 
reply. 

"Who's  she?"  asked  Charles. 

"Your  mother,  Charles." 

"  Is  she?  "  said  Charles,  deeply  impressed, 
and  walked  away,  hands  behind  his  back, 
mulling  over  this  absorbing  piece  of  intelli- 
gence. 

Charles  quickly  learned  to  enjoy  listening 
to  the  radio  and  looking  at  books,  but  tele- 
vision quickly  became  his  favorite.  Today 
Charles  is  getting  his  royal  education  on  the 
family's  sixteen-inch  television  screen.  He 
watches  every  time  his  mother  goes  out  on 
some  televised  function  like  the  Trooping  of 
the  Color,  and  the  lessons  are  teaching  him 
what  to  do  in  the  future. 

Charles  with  his  miniature  trains  and 
bricks  presents  some  very  real  problems  to 
Elizabeth.  He  is  Duke  of  Cornwall,  and 
revenue  from  the  Duchy  of  Cornwall  repre- 
sents a  six-figure  fortune  which  Elizabeth 
must  handle  for  him  until  he  is  eighteen,  to- 
gether with  the  £10,000  ($28,000)  a  year 
allotted  to  him  by  Parliament.  There  are  ques- 
tions of  when  and  where  Charles  is  to  go  to 
school,  and  when  he  will  become  Prince  of 
Wales,  a  title  reserved  for  the  eldest  son  of 
the  reigning  monarch. 

All  these  decisions  and  conjectures  that 
buzz  around  the  innocent  young  person  of 
Prince  Charles  create  a  condition  which  pre- 
vents Elizabeth  and  Philip,  no  matter  how 
they  try,  from  treating  him  exactly  as  any 
other  child  would  be  treated. 

Charles  has  become  used  to  being  saluted 
by  soldiers  and  cheered  by  civilians.  But 
thanks  to  the  care  of  his  parents,  he  is  grow- 
ing into  a  good  boy  and  a  good  fellow— not 
necessarily  the  same  thing.  The  only  fault  is 
that,  like  most  of  the  Windsors,  Charles  is  a 
trifle  shy. 

In  October,  1949,  Philip  flew  to  Malta  to 
become  first  lieutenant  in  the  destroyer 
HMS  Chequers  and  began  a  long  and  diffi- 
cult spell  of  overseas  duty.  In  1950,  he  was 
given  his  first  command,  HMS  Magpie,  an 
antiaircraft  frigate.  He  also  won  the  extra 
half-ring  on  his  sleeve  as  a  lieutenant  com- 
mander, which,  after  eight  years  as  a  humble 
lieutenant,  was  the  climax  to  his  active  naval 
career.  The  Magpie— Maggers  to  the  crew- 
men—was a  tiny  ship  but  a  disproportion- 
ately large  load  of  responsibility.  It  does  not 
take  long  for  people  to  discover  whether  a 
man  is  a  good  captain  or  a  bad  captain. 
Philip  could  not  afford  to  be  inefficient.  From 
the  start  expert,  hypercritical  eyes  were  on 
him  whenever  he  ordered  a  change  of  course 
or  rang  the  ship's  telegraph. 

He  was  a  good  captain.  His  crew  were  re- 
served but  secretly  rather  proud  of  him.  His 
relationship  with  his  officers  was  good.  But 
as  soon  as  the  ship  was  tied  up  there  would 
be  a  huge  Rolls  Royce  waiting  on  the  dock 
ready  to  drive  him  to  Government  House. 
Ashore  he  took  precedence  over  the  mighty 
Commander  in  Chief,  Mediterranean  Fleet. 
However  much  it  delighted  the  men,  the 
officers  not  unnaturally  felt  ill  at  ease  with  a 
commanding  officer  who  was  at  one  moment 
almost  a  brother  ar.d  at  another  almost  god- 
like in  his  remoteness. 


Nothing  could  be  done  about  it.  It  was 
just  one  of  those  things,  but  it  worried  Philip  j 
In  an  effort  to  bridge  the  gap  with  his  offi.| 
cers,  he  went  on  one  or  two  inoffensive  butj 
gay  parties,  which  were  eagerly  seized  on  byj 
the  Malta  gossips  and  relayed  with  more  and  j 
more  details  back  to  London.  As  a  result' 
Philip,  on  one  of  his  trips  home,  was  given  a 
severe  dressing-down  by  King  George. 

Philip  loved  the  Magpie.  In  future  years 
he  knew  he  would  look  back  on  it  as  his  last 
few  months  at  the  career  he  planned  for  him- 
self. Very  soon,  he  knew,  he  would  be  re- 
called to  what  royalty  refers  to  as  "higher 
service,"  but  which  Philip  is  reported  to  have 
described  irreverently  as  "bazaar  opening." 

The  call  came  in  July,  1951,  after  he  had] 
captained  the  Magpie  for  a  year.  It  was  a  farl 
from  jolly  sailor  who  said  good-by  to  his  men 
in  the  approved  naval 'manner.  His  period  in 
command,  he  told  th^m  with  the  sincerity] 
that  is  one  of  the  great  sources  of  his  strength,  i 
was  the  happiest  time  he  had  ever  known  in 
his  naval  life. 

But  in  his  brief  case  as  he  flew  back  to 
London  and  "higher  service  "  was  the  text  of 
a  speech  which  was  going  to  rocket  him  be-'j 
fore  long  into  the  lead  as  a  molder  of  affairs.] 
Some  months  earlier  he  had  been  invited  to  i 
speak  in  Edinburgh  to  the  British  Associa-  j 
tion  for  the  Advancement  of  Science. 

A  few  scientist  friends  had  looked  over  his 
drafts  just  to  make  sure  he  had  made  no 
technical  boners,  but  otherwise  it  was  all 
Philip's  own  work,  and  it  took  the  assembly 
of  leaders  in  British  science  by  surprise. 

Philip  described  himself  as  "an  outsider,' 
a  layman,"  and  launched  into  a  biting  attack 
on  the  failure  of  British  industry  to  keep  up 
with  the  rest  of  the  world.  It  was  a  good 
literate  speech.  The  scientists  loved  it,  so  did 
the  newspapers,  and  the  delighted  British 
people  read  it  through  with  a  sort  of  "that's- 
my-boy"  pride. 

Philip  was  elated  at  the  reception.  After 
nearly  four  years  of  being  married  to  a  girl 
who  was  more  important  than  he  could  ever 
be,  he  had  found  what  he  was  seeking.  He 
could,  with  care,  become  the  stimulant,  the 
conscience  and,  where  necessary,  the  irritant 
which  Britain  needed.  He  was  encouraged  to 
keep  it  up  and  has  done  so  ever  since. 

In  August,  1950,  Princess  Anne  was  born 
and  turned  quickly  into  a  gay,  laughing  child 
who  adored  her  brother  and  after  a  slow  start 
kept  up  with  him  in  every  stage  of  progress. 

The  late  summer  of  1951  marked  Philip's 
return  to  Clarence  House  and  his  oratorical 
triumphs.  A  study  of  tlie  family  at  this  time 
shows  a  charming  picture  of  friendship  and 
affection,  and  is  worth  deeper  examination, 
Philip's  relations  with  his  mother-in-law  and 
father-in-law  were  excellent.  The  friendship 
between  King  George  and  Philip  was  digni- 
fied by  an  immense  mutual  respect.  Every- 
body who  met  the  King  loved  him,  and  Philip 
with  his  easy  sailor's  ways  was  a  great  stimu- 
lant to  him  and  helped  him  emerge  from  his 
normal  tendency  toward  moroseness. 

Philip  got  on  pleasantly  with  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, now  the  Queen  Mother,  and  with  Queen 
Mary,  who  had  been  one  of  the  first  to  see 
possibilities  in  the  idea  of  Philip  as  a  future 
husband  for  her  granddaughter. 

As  Elizabeth  and  Philip  prepared  to  set 
out  on  their  Canadian  and  United  States 
tour  in  the  fall  of  1951,  they  could  look  back 
on  three  years  of  a  marriage  that  had  been 
dogged  at  every  point  with  difficulties  and 
pitfalls,  yet  they  could  feel  they  were  making 
a  success  of  it. 

Mt  is  easy  to  sneer  at  the  problems  of 
royalty.  It  is  understandable  for  a  young 
wife  living  in  Brooklyn,  New  York,  or  Wands- 
worth, London,  harassed  by  housing  short- 
ages, rising  food  prices,  and  children  which 
she  has  to  care  for  from  morning  to  night,  to 
sound  off  satirically  about  the  "troubles" 
of  a  couple  living  rent-free  in  a  mansion 
with  more  than  $200,000  a  year,  a  retinue  of 
servants  and  a  "Court "  of  their  own. 

But  Elizabeth  and  Philip  have  had  trou- 
bles all  their  own.  The  chief  difficulties  of  a 
royal  marriage  stem  from  the  goldfish-bowl 
nature  of  their  lives  and  the  utter  lack  of 
privacy.  The  newspapers  follow  every  .nove 
they  make  and  anticipate  quite  a  few  they 


1^ 


(Ii)n  l  make.  Tlicy  tmisl  iu-vit  show  Imiiian 
frailty  or  wfakiicss.  Koyalty  is  allowed  only 
lo  be  gracious.  II  Mli/ahctli  and  I'liilip  and 
the  Queen  Mother  and  I'rincess  MarKaict 
have  problems  of  their  own,  they  have  to 
take  Koof'  ^'f  ''  "<>t  lo  show  it  in  their  laces 
when  the  photOKraphers  aie  around,  which 
is  most  of  the  time. 

The  royal  family  has  bor  ni-  up  well  under 
(he  wei^;hl  of  newspaper  K<'ssip  and  cam- 
paigns. They  reali/e  that  it  is  sliniulaled  by 
Ihe  intense  interest  and  alTrilioii  which  is 
Icll  lor  them  all  ovi'r  thi'  woild. 

One  day  the  assdubled  family,  watchinn 
the  blissfully  innocent  I'rincess  Anni- at  play 
on  the  (l(M)r,  uui'ssi'd  which  other  noble-lxirn 
babies  would  be  "linked "  to  her  by  the  m-ws- 
papcrs  not  many  years  from  now.  (The  list 
included  Lord  Hay,  then  aned  four;  Viscount 
Horodale.  a^cd  live;  Viscount  ("ioukIi  of 
lashes,  an  old  man  of  ten;  and  Viscount 
Ipswich,  a^;ed  two.) 

Bui  in  lUf)!,  ck'spile  Ihe  lioubUs  that  had 
uoiie  before,  it  was  easy  for  the  public  to  see 
that  ICIizabeth  and  I*hili|)  were  a  couple  who 
were  not  only  in  love  but  had  found  happi- 
ness. Court  advisers  aureed  that  whenever 
I'lulij)  came  into  the  room  l';iizabeth's  eyes 
lit  up  in  delight.  And  if  Philip  kicked  soine- 
I  imes  against  the  hothouse  almos|)here  of  the 
court  and  pined  for  a  return  lo  the  Royal 
Navy  and  pub-hauiUinK  evenings  with  beer 
and  barmaids,  he  was  more  than  recom- 
I^ensed  with  a  contented  family  life,  some- 
thini;  he  had  never  known  before. 

Tlie  visit  which  Elizabeth  and  Philip  paid 
lo  Canada  and  the  Lniled  Stales  in  the  fall 
of  1951  may  be  remembered  by  future  gener- 
ations as  die  lime  when  Princess  Elizabeth 
became  beautiful. 

One  momenl  she  seemed  lo  be  a  plump 
matron  with  a  dislressin^  habil  of  appearing 
to  wear  everything  in  the  closet  al  once.  Next 
moment  she  was  a  stunning  crealure  who 
look  Ihe  brealh  away  from  everyone  who 
looked  al  her.  How  she  did  it  is  a  slory  in  it- 


self Hut  the  really  extraordinary  IhiriK  was 
that  people  did  not  seem  to  notice  the  Krad- 
iial  transition  she  was  making,  v.ettinj?  her 
w(■l^'.ht  down  and  putting;  her  wardrobe  in 
order.  althou).',h  they  hafi  plenty  of  (ip|X)r- 
liinities,  considering  the  niimlxT  of  limes 
she  ap|K\-ired  in  public.  All  they  saw  was 
'■  ICIizabelli.  In  fore"  aiifl  "  IvIizalK  th,  after  " 

'I'he  "iK'fore"  iK'rio<l  included  the  lime 
she  was  married  in  li)l7.  I^lizatx  th  was  a 
wonderful  bride,  but  she  was  certainly  not 
Ix'auliful.  In  adrlilion  to  a  tendency,  al  the 
time,  not  to  |)liotograi)h  well,  she  also  l(K)ked 
gawky  and  ill  at  ease.  Always  a  g(X)d  eater, 
she  had  cheerfully  eaten  herself  by  1950  to  a 
state  where  she  was  twenty  |X)undH  over- 
weight. And  unfortunately  Ihe  time  when 
she  was  al  her  fattest  coincided  with  the 
IHTiod  in  which  her  niolher's  inlluenceon  her 
clolhes  was  at  its  height.  As  (;very  woman 
knows,  Ihe  |)resenl  Queen  Mother  has  al- 
ways delied  every  law  of  current  fashions, 
but  il  did  not  matter  so  much  with  her.  She 
had  a  chubby  charm  that  could  carry  il  off. 
Elizabeth  was  t(K)  young,  insuriiciently 
lv)uncy.  and  could  not. 

In  1951  Elizabeth  slarled  her  diet,  and  it 
was  not  easy.  Elizabeth  loved  her  f(X)d  with 
a  great  healthy  love  and  ale  a  lot  of  il  with 
chocolates  between  meals.  As  a  nonsmokcr 
she  did  not  have  the  assistance  of  nicotine 
lo  hold  down  the  ix)undage. 

Il  is  widely  believed  that  it  was  Philip  who 
suggested  Elizabeth  should  "reform"  — no 
pun  intended.  Bui  this  is  not  so.  Philip  was 
always  silent  on  the  matter.  He  never  once 
criticized  or  chipped  in  with  any  gratuitous 
advice.  Il  was  all  Elizabeth's  own  work. 
One  or  two  newspapers  did  notice  the  grad- 
ual improvement  in  Elizabeth's  shape,  but 
to  all  effects  it  was  a  completely  new 
Elizabeth  who  emerged  from  the  BOAC 
stratocruiser  at  Dorval  Airport  outside 
Montreal. 

Today  the  British  Commonwealth  of  Na- 
tions has  the  quite  heady  inspiration  of 


Reared  in  a  sheltered,  formalized  tradition,  Elizabeth  had  little  contact  with  ordinary 
people  until  after  her  marriage.  Philip  makes  friends  easily,  likes  to  "find  out  what  makes 
people  tick,"  although  he  is  somewhat  hampered  by  royal  protocol.  Here  he  and  Elizabeth 
(back  to  camera)  swing  gailr  through  Cattle  in  the  Crop,  at  Ottawa,  Canada,  "hoedown." 


"M  1  f" 

mos'/  make  ups  Nhoui  iviaae  up : 
Magic  Touch  whispers  'Natural  Beauty 


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I 


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ADDRESS 


CITY  ZONE.. 


knowing  that  one  of  the  beautiful  women  in 
the  world  is  on  its  throne.  The  plain  girl  of 
twenty-one  has  become  the  world's  number 
one  glamour  girl  at  twenty-seven. 

Elizabeth  was  in  Kenya  when  she  became 
a  Queen  without  knowing  it.  The  evening 
before  she  had  watched  big  game  gather  at  a 
water  hole  in  the  Royal  Abercare  Game  Re- 
serve. 

Next  day  she  climbed  into  a  blouse  and 
slacks,  ate  her  usual  hearty  breakfast  and, 
leaving  the  tree  hut  in  which  she  had  spent 
the  night,  started  back  with  Philip,  her  staff 
and  her  hosts  for  the  lodge  which  had  Been 
given  her  as  a  wedding  present  by  the  people 
of  Kenya. 

All  day  the  message  of  the  King's  death 
had  been  trying  to  get  through  by  wire,  but 
was  for  some  inexplicable  reason  delayed. 
Not  until  the  early  afternoon  did  the  news 
reach  the  lodge  and  even  then  it  came  in- 
directly, the  editor  of  a  local  paper  having 
called  the  lodge  by  phone. 

Philip  heard  the  news  from  an  equerry  and 
cabled  London  for  confirmation.  When  the 
reply  came  he  took  Elizabeth  for  a  walk  and 
broke  the  news  to  her  alone. 

In  the  funeral  cortege  that  paced  through 
the  London  streets  in  a  cold,  white  February 
sunlight,  the  King's  kinsmen  walked  si- 
lently with  their  own 
thoughts.  There  were 
the  Duke  of  Glouces-  "-^  * 
ter,  the  frozen- 
faced  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, the  seventeen- 
year-old  Duke  of 
Kent,  alone  in  civilian 
clothes.  The  Duke  of 
Windsor  was  there, 
loo,  in  naval  uniform, 
handsomely  haggard, 
and  near  him  the  man 
who  most  closely  re- 
sembles him  in  all  the 
royal  family.  Prince 
Philip,  Duke  of  Ed- 
inburgh. 

What  did  the  future 
hold  for  Philip? 

Prince  Albert  of 
Saxe  Coburg-Gotha, 
Philip's  great-great 
grandfather,  and  the 
husband    of  Queen 


»       '..^  N.-  V' 

TOSSING 

THE  BRIDAL  BOUQUET 

In  the  fourteenth  century,  after  the 
wedding  ceremony,  it  was  customary 
to  rush  the  bride  to  get  her  garter. 
The  custom  was  gradually  changed  to 
throwing  a  garter  or  a  stocking.  The 
process  of  removing  the  garter  or 
stocking  was  a  pleasant  source  of 
good  humor  and  ribaldry  at  the  wed- 
ding. Probably  one  damsel,  more 
modest  than  some,  threw  her  bridal 
bouquet,  and  started  a  pleasant  cus- 
tom. The  legend  that  the  girl  who 
caught  it  would  soon  be  a  bride  was 
an  innovation  later  tacked  on  to  the 

custom.  —DAVID  T.  ARMSTRONG 


\'ictoria,  once  wrote 

( if  his  duties,  "The  position  of  Prince  Consort 
requires  that  the  husband  should  entirely  sink 
insown  individual  existence  in  that  of  his  wife ; 
that  he  should  aim  at  no  power  by  him- 
self or  for  himself;  should  shun  all  atten- 
tion, assume  no  separate  responsibility  be- 
fore the  public." 

But  times  and  personalities  had  changed. 
Philip  was  as  unlike  Albert  in  temperament 
as  it  was  possible  to  be.  On  the  other  hand, 
Philip  and  the  Duke  of  Windsor  were  alike 
in  many  ways:  in  their  tolerant  attitude  to- 
ward humanity,  in  their  informality,  in  their 
irritation  at  the  stuffier  conceits  of  the 
Court. 

After  his  return  from  Kenya,  Philip 
worked  night  and  day  greeting  and  accom- 
modating all  the  visiting  princes  and  states- 
men who  poured  into  London  for  the  funeral. 
When  it  was  all  over,  he  protectively  rounded 
up  the  new  Queen  and  the  grieving  Queen 
Mother  and  took  them  to  Windsor  for  a  few 
days'  rest. 

^EXT~regretfully— he  turned  to  the  busi- 
ness of  packing  up  at  Clarence  House  for  the 
removal  to  Buckingham  Palace.  Philip  loved 
Clarence  House,  and  he  had  poured  his 
heart  into  its  renovation.  He  and  Elizabeth 
had  owned  the  place  since  mid- 1950,  but 
they  could  hardly  look  back  on  a  week  in 
which  they  had  lived  there  uninterruptedly, 
and  not  more  than  a  few  weeks  in  all. 

In  the  days,  weeks  and  months  that  fol- 
lowed, the  pattern  began  to  show  through, 
with  Philip  first  concentrating  exclusively 
on  taking  as  much  worry  as  possible  off  his 
wife's  shoulders,  and  then  developing  a 
philosophy  of  his  own  about  the  position  of 
a  Queen's  consort. 

In  the  four  years  before  the  death  of  King 
George  he  had  done  a  wonderful  job  in  creat- 


May,  1953 

ing  for  Elizabeth  a  link  with  a  world  of  which 
she  had  no  knowledge  or  experience.  Now  as 
consort  to  the  Queen  he  could  widen  her 
horizon  even  further. 

Many  people  believed  that  the  accession 
of  Elizabeth  as  Queen  would  signify  a 
general  loosening  up  in  matters  of  protocol, 
but  quite  the  opposite  has  happened.  Eliza- 
beth insists  that  every  form  and  tradition 
relating  to  the  dignity  and  supremacy  of  the 
Crown  be  maintained  to  the  very  letter. 

Philip  was  certainly  not  being  left  out  in 
the  cold,  but  it  was  quickly  seen  that  the  new 
reign  would  be  Elizabeth's  and  nobody  else's, 
and  that  Philip  would  fit  into  the  Elizabethan 
mold  rather  than  vice  versa. 

For  a  few  days  there  was  some  agitation  in 
the  Court  as  to  whether  the  name  of  the 
dynasty  from  Prince  Charles  onward  would 
be  changed  from  Windsor  to  Mountbatten. 
This  idea  was  quickly  squashed  by  Elizabeth, 
who  announced  that  Charles  would  be  a 
Windsor  when  he  came  to  the  throne.  There 
was  no  controversy  about  the  matter,  but  it 
did  have  importance  in  Court  politics. 

The  moral  tone  of  Elizabeth's  reign  would 
also  follow  the  Queen's  own  rigid  sense  of  the 
proprieties  and  not  assume  Philip's  more 
casual  character.  Back  in  1949  Elizabeth 
firmly  established  her 
own  ideas  about  life  at 
a  meeting  of  the  Brit- 
ish Mothers'  Union: 
"When  we  see  around 
us  the  havoc  which 
has  been  wrought— 
above  all  among  chil- 
dren—by  the  breakup 
of  homes,  we  can  have 
no  doubt  that  divorce 
and  separation  are  re- 
sponsible for  some  of 
the  darkest  evils  in 
our  society  today." 

In  addition  to  re- 
vealing a  highly  ag- 
gressive sense  of  vir- 
tue,   the  statement 
suggested    that  the 
Duke    of  Windsor 
would  not  have  much 
more  success  in  get 
ting  the  Duchess  ac- 
cepted by  the  new 
regime  than  he  had 
done  with  the  old,  though  the  outlook  for 
the  Windsors  might  improve  with  the  passing 
of  old  Queen  Mary. 

At  the  Ascot  races  Queen  Elizabeth  has 
insisted  that  the  traditional  rule  barring  di- 
vorced persons  from  the  Royal  Enclosure 
must  be  rigorously  upheld.  The  duty  of  send- 
ing out  invitations  falls  on  the  Duke  of 
Norfolk,  who  is  a  Catholic,  and  he  works 
closely  with  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 

And  every  year  through  the  Ascot  season, 
estranged  couples  in  Britain's  social  register 
bare  their  teeth  at  each  other  in  the  pretense 
of  marital  smiles,  determined  to  delay  di- 
vorce proceedings  until  after  Ascot  is  over 
because  they  do  not  wish  to  miss  the  fun  in 
the  Royal  Enclosure.  This  has  been  particu- 
larly true  in  the  1953  coronation  year. 

Philip  and  Elizabeth  today  are  a  glamor- 
ous couple  who  balance  each  other's  person- 
alities nicely.  If  Elizabeth  is  the  remote,  regal 
Queen,  Philip  is  her  other  self,  friendly,  ac- 
cessible and,  above  all,  human.  Even  his 
quite  frequent  outbursts  of  bad  temper  don't 
do  him  discredit.  He  is  always  resentful  of 
attempt  by  either  officials  or  the  press  to  take 
advantage  of  Elizabeth's  strict  sense  of  duty. 
Sometimes  he  is  powerless  to  do  anything 
about  it  and  seethes  to  himself  as  he  stands 
a  few  feet  behind  his  wife.  But  when  he  can 
act,  he  does  so. 

Philip's  greatest  gift  is  his  ability  to  be 
both  royal  and  informal  at  the  same  time. 
When  he  is  called  to  the  company  of  debu- 
tantes or  women  generally,  his  manner  is  the 
just-right  combination  of  remoteness  and 
familiarity. 

"Relax,  girls,"  were  his  first  words  when 
he  was  introduced  to  some  of  Britain's 
women  athletes  at  the  1952  Olympic 
Games  in  Helsinki.  And  he  has  been  heard 
to  call  his  wife  a  "silly  sausage,"  with  humor- 


)iis  fxaspcr.'itioi)  ;iflfr  :i  private  arnuim-iil, 
I  in  expression  wliicli  did  not  apix-ar  to  upset 
•;iizat)eth  in  any  way. 

I'or  years  I'lulij)  flelied  attempts  by  iMn- 
lon's  male  fashion  flesiv;ners  to  mai<e  him  a 
eader  of  fashion  in  tlie  old  IVmce  of  Wales 
Manner.  AlthouKh  Philip  always  Itxiks  smart, 
ic  is  not  really  interested  in  clothes.  When 
le  has  a  suit  made  he  swin^;s  his  arms 
hroii^h  :i  full  circle  to  make  sure  thai  it  tils 
lomforlahly,  and  hu  does  not  ask  much  Ih-- 
/ond  thai.  He  prefers  suede  to  leather  sIkh-s, 
md  cares  little  how  haltered  they  v.el .  I  le 
naliies  hats. 

Philip's  ureal  achievemenl  has  been  his 
■apacily  to  link  the  t'rown  and  the  people 
icross  a  wide  <'xpanse.  The  nulf  was  Iik)  deep 
or  the  Duke  of  Windsor,  biil  Philip's  \ytn\- 
ion  enables  him  to  span  il.  IK'  h.is  done  a 
iremendous  job  for  the  nation's  under- 
)rivile^;ed  youlh,  who.  thanks  lo  his  tireless 
■I'forls  on  their  behalf,  now  enjoy  far  tx'lter 
i|X)rtiiu;  ;ind  recri'alional  facilities  than  the 
ivera(.'.e  American  city  boy. 

Sir  Alan  "Tommy"  Lascelles  is  the 
Queen's  private  secretary,  adviser  and  ^'o- 
x'tween.  It  is  his  job  lo  act  as  liaison  man 
X'tween  the  Queen  and  No.  10  Downing 


and  the  younn  man  wlu)  wf)uld  Ix-  Kinu.  one 
day  in  the  future    Prince  Charles.  • 

A  Kturist  in  I^)ndon  c.in  tx-  reason.tbly  con- 
fident of  s«'einK  I'ili/abeih  and  Philip  doin^ 
sfnnethinK  or  other,  even  if  he  merely 
w.ilches  them  drive  from  wjmewhere  im- 
|K)rlanl  losr)mewhereelweciually  im|)ortant. 
They  yt)  to  the  theater.  They  watch  the 
cricket  al  I-ords.  They  o|)en  tllin^'.s.  attend 
Ihin^'.s,  inaunurate  lhiii>,',s,  lay  foundation 
stones  lo  places,  and  present  i)ri/es  lo  |X'opIe. 
They  are  a  p.irl  of  London  hie  lhal  seems  to 
Like  I.oiidon  l);ick  in  lime  to  a  Ix-ller  a^e, 
and  111  these  limes  when  luiMhshmen  lend  lo 
!)(■  disillusioiufl  :ilx)ul  the  i)res<-nl  and  dis- 
truslliil  ol  Ihe  liiliire,  the  past  takes  on  a  new 
altraclion. 

liolh  M;u>^aret  and  the  Queen  Mother 
have  settled  into  a  way  of  living  very  dilTer- 
enl  Irom  thai  which  they  had  Ix-fore  the 
Kin^  died.  After  many  delays  they  moved 
into  llieir  new  home  al  Clarence  House 
shortly  In'fore  Christmas,  l^W';  Margaret 
l;ikinn  over  the  four-nxjin  suite  that  w\'is 
once  the  nursery  of  Charles  and  Anne.  She 
has  buill  in  some  wall  cabinets  lo  hold  her 
coUeclion  (larKc)  of  American  phononraph 
records,  and  in  Ihe  extra  space  she  has  found 


An  ardent  sportsman,  Pliilij)  mniiicted  in  the  Flying  Fifteen  race  at 
Cowes  regatta  in  the  summer  of  1952.  He  is  at  the  tiller  of  Coweslip,  ivith 
famed  designer  Uffa  Fox  (left)  as  his  crew.  Coweslip  came  in  second. 


Street— the  Prime  Minister— to  study  the 
political  temper  of  the  moment,  and  to  dig 
out  for  the  Queen  as  much  intelligence  as 
he  can  about  what  is  going  on  behind  the 
scenes  in  Parliament. 

What  this  means  in  practice  is  that  Las- 
celles and  Philip  are  Queen  Elizabeth's  eyes 
and  ears  on  the  nation,  Philip  chasing  all  over 
the  country  finding  out  what  the  man  in  the 
street,  on  the  farm  and  down  in  the  mine  is 
thinking,  Lascelles  keeping  to  high-level 
matters  of  politics  and  statesmanship. 

The  Queen  has  shown  her  appreciation  of 
her  husband's  efforts  by  gratefully  giving 
him  a  shove  up  the  social  ladder.  In  Septem- 
ber, 1952,  it  was  announced,  "The  Queen  has 
been  graciously  pleased  ...  to  declare  and 
ordain  that  His  Royal  Highness  Philip  Duke 
of  Edinburgh,  Knight  of  the  Most  Noble 
Order  of  the  Garter,  Knight  of  the  Most 
Ancient  and  Most  Noble  Order  of  the  Thistle, 
Commander  in  the  Royal  Navy  shall  hence- 
forth upon  all  occasions  and  in  all  Meetings 
except  where  otherwise  provided  by  Act  of 
Parliament,  have,  hold  and  enjoy  Place, 
Pre-eminence,  and  Precedence  next  to  Her 
Majesty." 

This  made  Philip  First  Gentleman  of  the 
Land.  Until  then  Philip  was  regarded  as  a 
junior  duke  and  ranking  even  behind  his  own 
son.  Prince  Charles.  He  was  also  ranked  be- 
hind the  Dukes  of  Windsor  and  Gloucester, 
a  situation  which  could  be  embarrassing 
at  functions  like,  say,  banquets  where  the 
seating  is  strictly  according  to  rank  and 
seniority. 

Elizabeth's  order  was  a  loving  one  in  other 
ways.  It  meant  that  her  husband  who  could 
never  be  King  ranked  superior  to  a  man  who 
had  been  King  once  (the